Lord of the Flies: Aftermath
Ralph walked through the empty streets of a dust covered city. His eyes scanned the area, carefully studying the buildings and the alleys that lie between them. It appeared to him that the city had been devoid of human inhabitants for some time. A layer of dirt and grime coated most of the towering buildings, and strange red stains dotted the cracking pavement. Shattered glass twinkled beneath empty windows, like tears shed from agonized eyes. The damp air was heavy and made Ralph's clothes cling to his flesh.
A large rat scuttled by in the road ahead, and Ralph was reminded that the city was not completely devoid of life. The war had ended nearly two years agol but before it had a final battle was fought inside the United States. Ralph was standing in the aftermath of this final battle, a city so empty of civilization that it made one forget that they were not alone. But he knew that small groups of survivors struggled in the ruins of the country's larger cities. This one would be no exception; afterall, it had once been New York.
Suddenly the buildings began to blur, distort and merge. The twinkling glass shards smudged together. The city had begun to change, to mesh together and become a mess of brown and gray smudges. Ralph blinked and rubbed his eyes. A wave of nausia washed over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the feeling to pass. Then he opened his eyes again, but the city he had seen around him had vanished. In its place he saw a jungle, and beyond that the sea.
"This belongs to us." The voice had come from somewhere behind Ralph, and though he couldn't remember to who it belonged, the voice sounded familiar.
"That's a reef. A coral reef. I've seen pictures like that." Another familiar voice that could not be matched with a face Ralph knew. He spun around to see who it was that had been having a conversation, but when he turned the island had become the city once more.
The abandoned street narrowed into the horizon. Ralph squinted and tried to remember the island, tried to remember the pink rocks he had been standing on, but his eyes showed him nothing except for the lonely city. A rock dropped onto the ground no more than three feet away. The crack of the stone against the pavement stole Ralph from his concentration. Another rock plopped down beside him, and then another on his other side. Rock after rock rained down around him, but none hit his body. A couple came too close for Ralph's taste, but none of the stones had ever struck him.
He watched as one fell over his shoulder and crashed to the street before him. He spun around, eager to see who was tossing rocks at him, but he saw only the buildings and the alleyways they drowned in shadow. Slightly startled by this, Ralph turned and began to walk in the direction away from the rocks point of origin. As he took a step, however, a rock fell before him. He dodged to the left, afraid the stone would hit him. Another rock fell before him, again forcing him to change the direction he had chosen. His feet tangled together and he fell backward.
More rocks fell around him, some of them very close to his head. He knew that if he moved in any direction at all, he rock slid over his face. He cringed and slammed his eyes shut as the rock began to descend toward him. Then somebody risked moving into the path of a falling rock. As he lie on the wet pavement trying to think of a way to escape, the shadow of a screamed his name, and a hand grasped his ankle. His back stung as he slid over the wet gravel. A small rock struck his kneecap, and the pain forced his eyes open. He found himself staring at the back of a man with red hair that hung beneath his shoulders.