A small, dark figure crested over the hill. The young boy was dressed in dark rags that covered his hands, tattered jeans, and a black tshirt that once had some sort of image on it. Though it was extremely bright outside, he wore a hoodie and large leather jacket as well because it was cold, very cold. It was always cold.

They said that before the Burst there were these things called seasons, and one of them was called Summer. It was always warm in summer, and warmth meant that people never needed to wear jackets. Shaheen couldn't imagine what that would be like, to not have to keep warm all the time, but people before the Blast had lived soft lives. They never knew what it was like to fight for survival, to travel from place to place to stay alive, to grow up only knowing hunger and the cold. Those of them who had lived in luxury before the Blast rarely survived in the harsh climate that came after it. The people that they had ignored and left to fend for themselves were the ones who had triumphed in the end after the Blast, because they knew how to survive in hardship. The rich ones never stood a chance.

Shaheen looked across the vast plain that lay before him. You had to be aware of your surroundings in this world if you wanted to live. He knew that being out in the open was dangerous because anyone could see you, but at the same time, he would always be able to see anyone who approached him. Shaheen shivered slightly despite his layers. That meant that it was going to be dark soon, and he had to find shelter for protection against bandits and the cold. He looked across the plain once more and spotted a dark smudge that could be a rock out crop or the remnants of some old buildings, the glass and concrete refuges that had once housed hundreds of people in just one of them. That was what people said, but Shaheen never believed such tall tales. How could anyone ever have the time and strength to build something like that? It was a waste of time and energy when bandits could pick you off at any time.

The young boy set off on his journey towards the smudge. If he hurried, he might be able to make it in time to do a proper sweep of the area before he bunked down for the night.

Eventually, he made it to the smudge. It turned out to be an old building that had been destroyed by the Blast. He explored the wreckage, making sure that he was the only one there - you never knew who would be hiding in the shadows, waiting to slit your throat and take all you have.

The coast was clear. He did another sweep this time, looking for a good spot to sleep in. As he walked around he noticed something brown peeking out from under a pile of the sand and grit that covered the floor. He knelt down to touch the thing - it was strangely patterened - and it was solid, if a bit rough. Shaheen brushed aside more of the sand and grit that had been protecting what looked like a panel of...wood. That was what the brown material was called. There were two metal rings on the wooden panels. Gingerly, he slipped his fingers around them and pulled gently. Years of neglect made the wood groan, and in some areas the material began to disintegrate.

Shaheen pulled again, this time with more force, and managed to get one of the wooden panels to open. It subsequently fell off the hinges that it had once been connected to. A blast of stale air hit Shaheen in the face, and he waited to let some fresh air enter into the receding darkness that lay below.

His heart hammered in his chest. A discovery like this, a place that no one had opened since before the Blast, was extremely rare in the scavenged and over-picked world that everyone lived in now. What lay down there he wondered? More clothes? The body of a pour soul who had no idea what had happened? Weapons? Shaheen hoped there was something useful that he could acquire.

The boy had waited long enough. He walked down the steps into the darkness and found himself at the bottom of the cellar. He couldn't see anything around him, so he got on his knees and felt around tentatively until his fingers touched something.

Shaheen spent the rest of the dwindling daylight pulling things out of the cellar. He had found strange artifacts that he didn't understand, like a hard black rectangle with squishy things that you could press, and a large hoop that had retained its bright colours. He kept the rectangle to sell later to the strange folk who liked to trade pre-Blast items for things he could actually use. The hoop was too large and would attract unwanted attention on the road. Thankfully there was also a bag with straps he could use to hold the supplies that he actually wanted to keep. There had also been several knives with blades that were relatively sharp, probably because they hadn't been affected as much by the Blast and no one had used them since.

The one thing he was most intrigued by was a black box-bag thing that was rectangular in shape. For some reason, he knew to be very careful with it when he brought it to the surface. He laid it down gently, and slowly unzipped the bag.

Shaheen didn't know what to think about what lay before him. It was a strange object that was also made out of wood, but it was shiny and smooth unlike the cellar door. It was curved strangely in the middle and had holes in it that looked like they were put there on purpose. A long stick part extended from the top of the thing and had knobs attached to it. There were strings that ran along the length of the object. Shaheen slowly put his hand out and plucked one of the strings.

Out of nowhere a sound rang out. Shaheen jumped to his feet and looked around, before realising that the sound had come from the object. He knelt down again, and this time plucked another string. A different sound rang out this time, but it was different to the one before. Each string he plucked gave out a different sound. Shaheen's heart almost exploded out of his chest. He knew that he had discovered something amazing and unheard of in the post-Blast world. He had never heard sounds like this before. If he sold this to a collector he might never have to scavenge again.

He ran a hand through his dark curls and sat back on his haunches, staring at the thing.

"You are going to save me," he said to it.