Chapter 2
She looked outside the bunker, past the reinforced windows and the frosty, cold steel walls, and into the white forest. The trees whispered to her. They told her secrets. Secrets of the sun and the moon, the secrets that could make you gasp, secrets that are meant to stay hidden. The bark giggled, the bushes sighed. They spoke to her through the messages in the light, the way the branches scribbled writtings in the shadows, and the soft sounds of bark moaning in the cold.
Sometimes she would lose herself, looking into the forest. Night or day, it always held a mystery to her. Sometimes it would calm her, but more often than not it made her anxious. What could be lying just across her vision? She knew the possibilities, and it made her stomach colder than it already was.
The bird roasted on the fire pit. A strong, greasy smell warmed her head. She had plucked the feathers, and tied them onto new wooden arrows, like the manual that she found stored in the basement said to, well, that is after she cleared out the Left. Thinking about the Left always makes her sad. How could somebody commit suicide when their not even infected? Or force others to as well? There's always hope, she reminded herself. Always, so just stay surviving.
Arrows break a lot, she grumbled. And they're tedious to make, as well. But it's better than risking a gun, what with any of Them around. From the bones she'll make some new tools, maybe upgrade the gear that has been wearing out.
It's been 30 days since the last sighting. She started hoping that maybe the cold finally finished the rest of Them off, or at least the ones in her mountain. Her mountain. It's been a year now, since she has seen anyone else. She's lonely. Sometimes she thinks about what could be out there. Maybe she's the last one, maybe there's no one else, and she's dwindling her youth in a bunkerd cabin out in the middle of no where.
Or worse, maybe there has been a cure. Maybe children once again laughed and played in the parks, in the bookstores, in stores. Maybe mothers scolded, and fathers went back to looking over the newspaper. Maybe her family found each other, maybe they missed her like she missed them. Maybe it's all over, and she'll have already become too paranoid to come out in time to see that everything's ok. She worried that she'll end up an old woman by the time anyone comes out here and stumbles upon her sad, reclused home. That she'll stay here, trapped, forever.
The trees whispered.
She was lonely.
(AUTHORS NOTE: chp 3 done, again, if there's activity or suggestions, i'll keep going)