You're so sick of walking. You don't know how long you've been going, but in this heat, and without proper food or a decent supply of water, it feels like a lifetime. You look down at your feet, dragging along the dry, cracked ground. Your boots are filthy, But thats the least of your worries. You stop trudging for a second, and lift your head to look at whats around you. But there's nothing there. Its just dust, in every fucking direction. You let out an exasperated sigh and drop to the ground, opening up your backpack you take out your last bottle of water. It's halfway gone. 'Fuck', you think to yourself, and shove it back in your bag. Then you pull out your map. You were never good at reading maps, but now that there's nobody else around to help, you have to make more of an effort. The fact that the landscape has changed drastically since this map was made doesn't help. You pull your scraped knees up to your chest, and hit your head off them a few times - "Fuck, fuck fuck fuck!" you say out loud this time. It's not like anyone is going to hear you. You sit there for another few minutes before standing back up, and looking around once more. Desperately searching for any type of landmark, but to no avail. So you roll your eyes and start walking again.

But, after what you assume to be around ten minutes, the dust starts to clear. Not alot, but just enough so you can see a few yards in front of you. It also changes colour, from a harsh reddish brown to a warm orangey yellow. You can see the outlines of boulders in the distance (No more walking into shit or tripping over!) and you can pull off the bandana you had covering your mouth. It's way easier to breathe here. Not long after the dust clears, you come to a road. 'This is it!' you think. 'This is the road to Better Living, the road to a new life!'. You drop to your knees and kiss the hot tarmac, it fucking hurts your hands and knees, but you've never been so relieved. You really thought you were done for. You stand back up, and swing your backpack onto your front, unzipping it, you pull out your water bottle and take a celebratory swig. Gross. It's warm.

You step out onto the road and look to your right, then to your left. Thinking it's a little funny, all the things you learned from your parents or teachers about road safety - or anything else for that matter. What good is it now...? You scrunch your face up and shake your head until the memories have are jammed into the back of your mind again. You can't afford to cry, you're already dehydrated enough.

You've been walking down this road for what you guess is about two hours. You're at the end of your tether, but the sight of a rising skyline in the distance suddenly has you running. It appears out of the ground like a huge waking beast. This is what you came all this way for. To clean yourself up, start a new life, forget about everything that's happened. You haven't been the same person since the fallout. Why were you the only one left? It made you feel worthless, and guilty, and selfish. But this was all going to change. Battery City was just a few miles away. Battery City. A place where your troubles would be no more. You smile. The first time you've smiled in a long while.

You immediately pull your radio out of the side pocket of your bag. If you're this close to a city, surely there'll be some reception. You can see if BL/ind have sent out any more messages. You fiddle with the dial, but it's all static. No. What was that? You turn the dial back the smallest amount. Behind all the white noise you can hear the faintest hint of a voice. You hold your arm up in the air and wave the radio around, like you used to do with your cellphone when you were in a basement. Right above your head, you hear it. It was a voice! You hadn't heard anyone's voice but your own in so long, you stare up at your radio, trying desperately to hear what was being said.

"-and twice as shiny! This ones for all you rock'n'rollers, crashqueens & motorbabies, Listen up!"

Wait, is that music in the background?

"The future is bulletproof, the aftermath is secondary, It's time to do it now an-"

Shit. Nothing but static again. You shrug and put the radio back in your backpack, then you take a deep breath and look at the looming shadows of the city before you, before setting off on the final mile to better living.

"Keep running" you tell yourself. "It's all you have to do - just keep running". As much as you try and encourage yourself, you have to stop and catch your breath. It's not as hot as it was, but fuck, you are thirsty. You drain the last of your water, emptying it drop by drop down your throat, and you start off again. Not running, but a jog, until Battery City is no longer a silhouette against the setting sun. At first it's just the outline of buildings, but as you grow closer and closer you begin to see huge billboards, with animated smiling faces peering down at you as you hit the city limits. The first thing you notice is that it's clean. Everything is so, so clean. The second thing you notice... or rather don't notice, is the people. Where are all the people?

You begin to feel uneasy as you twist and weave deeper into the city, the streets all connecting to form one gigantic, sterile labyrinth. You try convince yourself that the reason there are no people is because it's getting dark. Maybe the city has a curfue? Yeah, that's it. You quickly push any creepier thoughts to the back of your mind. Just when you're about to give up hope, you hear a voice coming from further up the street. You mentally raise a fist in triumph and start down the road, as you grow closer, you realise how loud it is. It coudn't be coming from an actual person. Shit. You turn a corner onto a huge square, complete with giant screens advertising various and equally gross looking food substitutes. The biggest of all these screens, in the very centre, showed a man. He was bald, but had dark eyebrows, pointing down in the middle. You chuckle to yourself as you think about how he looks like a stereotypical villain. So that's where the voice was coming from.

"Security, Responsibility, ", He repeated, over and over. It was on a loop. Every now and then it'd change from his face to smiling workers in clean white factories, or a smiling family standing on their lawn in front of their gorgeous pristine home, waving out at you, but then it'd cut back to this man and his off-puttingly welcoming grin. There was a message scrolling at the bottom of the screen.

'TAKE YOUR MEDICINE'.

This, you've got to admit, freaks you out. You look around and the cold, plain, towering buildings and shiver. You don't know whether it's because of the cool desert nights, or something else. 'Where the fuck is everyone' you think to yourself again. You see a huge digital clock to your right, up on a building, surrounded by more screens that bombard you with smiling faces. It's only 11:30... for a city, that's not late at all. Something is not right. You decide you'll find the BL/ind headquarters. Surely there'll be someone there. They sent out cheery radio broadcasts a day or two ago, assuring survivors that 'there'll always be someone there for you at Better Living Industries!'

You set off to find the building right away. Luckily, you don't need to use your map. There's signposts fucking everywhere, with arrows pointing the direction you need to go.

While you're walking you think about what you'll say when you arrive at the front desk. Do you say you're a survivor of the bombings? You don't feel like you've survived. Emotionally, anyway. Do you ask to speak to a certain someone? What if they take one look at you and turn you away? You're covered in dirt and dried-in blood, that can't be the ideal dress code for the new generation. You're suddenly really nervous. You stop walking and take a deep breath, telling yourself mentally to calm the fuck down, they can't turn you away, you're the kind of person they're offering refuge. And I mean, even if-

OOFT!

Your train of thought is interrupted by something heavy crashing into you sideways. You and whatever it is roll off the sidewalk and down an dark alleyway. Before you've even thought of screaming, there's a hand covering your mouth, pressing down on your face. You kick about and thrash and wave your arms but it's no use, whatever it was that tackled you is alot stronger than you are. It's also on top of you, pinning you to the ground. You're on your back, your bag digging into your back. And It fucking hurts. You want to see this thing's face. You want to at least be able to see what's going to kill you. But this alley isn't lit, at all. You try punching it, but it takes both your wrists in it's other hand, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You give up. You stop moving. No sooner than you stop trying to fight back, whatever it is takes it's hand off your mouth. Bad move. You go to scream again. Another bad move. The thing slams his hand back over your mouth and leans down, so it's hair is dangling in your face.

'This is it', you think. 'I came all of that way for fucking nothing'.

Suddenly, everything you'd pushed to the back of your mind on your journey surfaced. You missed your family. You missed your friends. You were so alone. All you wanted was somewhere to start fresh, and realising that your epic trek to this place was fucking pointless, because now this fucking psycopathic murderer was going to slit your fucking throat.

You were just so fucking tired.

Without you realising, tears start rolling freely down the sides of your face. The thing on top of you scoffs, almost laughs, but sarcastically. It lets go of your wrists but there's no fight left in you, you let your arms fall by your sides. You choke back a sob. You don't like the fact that this thing is laughing at you while you lie there and wait for death. With the hand that was originally holding your wrists, the thing reaches up and pulls something from it's face.

"If you promise to shut the fuck up, I'll take my hand off your mouth."

It was a man's voice! Higher pitched than you would have expected. Rough and tired aswell. If you weren't in such an awful situation, you would have found it almost soothing. Maybe you weren't going to die at his hands afterall.

"Mmmph" was all you manage, with an awkward, stiff nod.

The man hesitates for a second, then takes his hand away from your face. He climbs off you, and stands up. He offers you a hand, but you're still lying on the ground. You're not too sure what just happened. Eventually, you persuade yourself to stand up. The entire time the man is just watching you. As soon as you're back on your feet, he starts walking away, back to the mouth of the lane, where you and he crashed through a few moment earlier.

"Stay here." He says without turning around.

Wait, what? This guy just assaulted you, and now he's giving you orders?

"Fuck you! Why the fuck should I do anything you tell me to!" You yell back, following after him, because he's already at the end of the lane. He turns on his heel before he gets to the street and storms back towards you. Wait... is he wearing a mask? He grabs you by both your shoulders and pushes you up against a wall.

"Because if you don't do as I say, you'll fucking die." he spits through gritted teeth, "Now stay here, and shut the fuck up. I'll be back soon." And with that he walks to the mouth of the lane once more, and turns left onto the street.

It takes you less than thirty seconds to assess the sitation. Stand here and wait for a clearly dangerous and aggressive man's return, or run for it.

Run for it. Duh.

You stretch your arms out once, in the process stretching your now aching back. And then you're off. You shoot out of the lane and turn left, forgetting where you were initially headed, all you care about is getting as far away from that lane before the masked psycopath comes back. You reach the end of the street and turn left again. You're halfway down the road before you realise what's happening.

You stop dead in your tracks.

All around you; gunfire. It's so loud, you don't know how you didn't hear it before. It's accompanied by yells, and an explosion or two from nearby vehicles. You're frozen to the spot, fixated on a group of people - Could you even call them that? - Standing on the steps of what you realise is BL/ind HQ - (Well at least you reached your destination). They're dressed completely in white, except... oh. They're wearing masks aswell. These cover their entire head though, white plastic faces with black plastic hair... and blood-red plastic mouths.

You've seen them before. Panic sets in.

You try to run, but your legs won't work. You try to scream out for help, not that it would do you any good, but all you can manage is a faint whimper. The gunfire gets more intense. You're so terrified you can't even look around to see who, or what, these monsters are shooting at. Not that you have much time to worry about it.

Because they've spotted you.

From a group of about thirty, seven of them make their way over to you. Slowly, as if to torture you. If there are faces underneath those masks, you imagine them to be grinning. If you weren't rooted to the spot, you could have run, but even then you probably wouldn't have. You'd given up. By some miracle, you were still alive, but your luck had run out. You just wanted it over and done with. You stand there, watching these things form a circle around you. They close in, without a sound. You shut your eyes tight, scrunch your face up, clench your fists, and almost feel relieved to know that death is close.

The last thing you hear is gunfire. Alot of it. Very loud. Very close.

And then you're gone.