Tori's POV:

I wake up in the rubble. I can taste ash, there's smoke in my lungs, the world is spinning but not on it's axis. It's entirely upside down.

A few days ago I was helping my dad clean out the gutters. Mum was cooking lunch, I was out of Uni for an unnecessary holiday, and the rain had been coming down for weeks already. Charlie was at school-

Charlie... where is Charlie?

I remember the dam breaking. I remember the tanks rolling into town. I remember the flood, the pile up on east 13, the collapse of the Ignatius water tower in downtown, and the sinkhole that swallowed Truham. Oh god, the sinkhole...

What I can't remember are the pieces in between. I remember people in suits showing up to the neighborhood, they were offering us water by the case, clean clothes, and groups of locals were gathering to cook food in the street on burning tins. Last night I woke up to see the Breeden house on fire.

I got up... I went down stairs... I couldn't find mum or dad.

"Hey." Says a voice.

I look up at the hand reaching out to me. It's one of Charlie's friends, Tara. She doesn't say much so I don't hate her. I look around and notice her other half is missing. The gender fluid one. I accept her assistance and climb up onto my feet. We look out at the rubble of a fallen town. Houses all along the province either burned, toppled from the water pressure, or sunken from the massive holes in the earth.

"Where's Charlie?" I ask, "Is he dead?"

She shakes her head, "No. I remember seeing him when the suits showed up at the schools. They were shooting us, one by one, like a line-up. Then he did something and they took him away in a dark car with tinted windows. Imogen went with him."

"No sign of Nick?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

"What about your partner? Darcy?" I ask.

She shrugs, "I haven't seen them since the fallout."

She's wearing a denim jacket, a ripped up burgundy shirt, and some jean shorts. Her shoes have holes in them but she seems to be holding up okay. Her hairs a frizzy mess but her face isn't bruised, she's not bleeding, and I find solace in that. Where is everyone?

The atmosphere has a grey hue to it. I'm dizzy and I have to use her shoulder to hold myself up but my brain locks in on one thing; Charlie is alive. If he's out there I have to find him...

We're lost in the fog. As she leads me away from the collapsed shed and the flaming tires I fester in my chest with the worst of what's happened. My parents are dead. That much I know. I also know that Charlie's valuable to the people that did this. Otherwise he'd be dead by now. I'll stop at nothing to find him.

There's a forest up ahead. That's where she's leading me.

"How did you find me?" I ask.

She's honest, "I wasn't looking. I went out to scavenge for food, clothes, whatever I could find to bring back to the commune. There's a sort of make-shift shelter in the woods. A group of us have gathered there for safety. A lot of people are dead and no one's been able to do anything about it. The bodies are piling up down-town. They wont let us in to get supplies, the wont let us bury the people we've lost, people are getting sicker and they're acting like we're criminals."

She swallows hard and then coughs enough to spit up blood, "People are trying to come to the border to help us and the military are turning them away. It doesn't make any sense."

"It does to someone who's never trusted the government." I say, "Get down."

Just as I tell her to do so the car behind us erupts in a hot roar. It's strong enough to blow my hair out of my face and she and I just lie there on the other side of a hill. Some animals that were hiding in the tree-line a moment ago scurry off deeper into the woods. This is something otherworldly.

When we finally find the strength I'm lifted back up off the ground. It's clear now that my left leg is at least sprained. There's bruises underneath the shredded pant leg. I have to lean against her to get out of the province and into the forest.

Up ahead, on the trail, is a young boy waiting for us. Issac, another one of Charlie's friends. It's odd, I watch a lot of horror movies. Usually the part where the girl is pulled out of the rubble and led away by familiar faces into a place that's safe is the ending. There's a dawning of peace.

I don't feel like that. In fact I feel like I'm only just stepping foot onto the lot for rehearsals. Like the camera for my horror movie is rolling but they're just getting glamour shots before the real story begins. If it is an ending the sad equivalent of the one at the end of the first season of AHS. That dreadful song '24' by James S. Levine is playing and Mr. Harmon just can't let go. His entire family is still trapped in that house.

Mum and dad are gone. There's nothing for me back there. But Charlie is still out there. I have to believe it. We catch up to him and it's clear he's been waiting for you.

He nice, "Wow Tara. We send you out for supplies and you bring us Charlie's sister. You're good at this."

The two of them hoist me up on their shoulders and I have to let them. The pain is almost too much to bear. This isn't the ending of 'Wind Chill' where the girl who survives, played by Emily Blount, is in the back of the ambulance and out of the snow storm. No, this is where she was finding out that there was no other car in the crash and that there's a crack in the fuel line.

I'm passing out... the pains too much.

When I awake I'm on a cot beneath an awning out by the river. There's several other awnings built about seven feet apart from each other. There's a tool shed nearby and someone has one of the windows open. She's passing out food to the people in line. There's a lot of people here. I sit up and look across at another cot.

There's a boy here, my age, bandaged up real good. He's got no clothes on. These are survivors of the fall out. I've got my knee wrapped up but other than that I'm much more in shape than these others. Oh- I've just looked over my shoulder to spy a girl who's missing half her face.

Tara comes over and sits next to me on the cot. She passes me a bowl.

"There's not much. Some rice, kidney beans, and three pounds of ground beef split between forty six people." She sighs.

I politely take it from her and place a hand on her knee, "It's more than some people have."

She nods. We have supper.

The first night is fine. I keep to myself. I've moved my awning to be closer to the stone wall the awning was placed on. I'm not smiling but I'm not frowning either. Mostly content with my decisions. Mostly accepting of the way life has turned out.

A group gathers by the water. They drink their wine, laugh, and try to make light of the situation. I try not to be mad at them. After something horrid it's important to fill the empty spaces people leave behind. The only one who can fill that space for me is the person who isn't here. Charlie is my responsibility now that our parents are dead.

Tara smiles at me as she joins some of the others. I nod and appreciate that she's leaving me to my processing. I'll try to talk with her come morning. I'm not one to stick around waiting on an answer. I have however had a day.

The commune is ran by a man telling us to call him 'Uncle Vines'. He insists that during the first few hours of the day everyone chip in and do their part. Since we must avoid the water of the river until it's unmucked we inquire water for other things. There's a girl here who's shown us to properly iodine water to make it nonpoisonous. some of us spend time with her working on that and it does take a while. Others build more awnings and sleeper tents. Some of the older teenagers, 'round my age, tend to the toddlers that have no parents. The parents we do have among us are either out hunting, or doing what Tara was doing yesterday; scavenging. There's not many parents.

As I lie here trying to go to sleep I think about something Issac told me today about how many of the adults were 'put down' by the suits. In the night we hear them drilling out there in the surrounding towns. There has to be a lot of them.

I spent my time today boiling water for cleaning with a log fire and a piece of a fence. I watched the flames flicker and thought about the people who've done this to the provinces and the schools. I think about hurting them. I think about getting information out of them.

When I fall asleep my dreams are full of blood. There's loud screams, fires, and my face in a mirror. Fog too, lots of fog. Then I'm twenty thousand leagues under the sea and there's something big way out in the distance with a face and I'm waking up in a puddle of sweat.

This morning when I wake it's someone I don't particularly like that much shoving my arm. I look up at Harry Green, the knob. I sit up swiftly, pull my sheet up over my chest.

"What d'you want?" I ask.

He shrugs, "Uncle Vines wants you to come with us today."

"Uncle Vines? What would he want with me?" I furrow my brow.

He looks over his shoulder at the boy standing behind him. Ben Hope. I don't trust either of these boys, how could I? They've both hurt Charlie. Still, an adventure outside the compound is exactly what I need to get more insight. I'll never get out of here if I don't try.

"Alright then." I say, "Go away. I'd like to put on some clothes."

Ben steps forward and drops a stack of them on my cot, "Freshly washed. No need to put on the ones you had when you arrived."

The two of them leave the awning. The others here are still sleeping but I cover myself with the sheet to put on the thick, baggy 'London' sweater. It's not grey but it is black and therefore it'll work for now. The black jeans are perfect, the socks are thick but they're not over used and therefore they make my feet feel fresh.

I stand and move my way through a crowd. It's the silver blue of a new day. Tara is there at the truck waiting for me. I suppose she'll be joining us. Uncle Vines, the tall, brute man is already in the drivers seat. Ben and Harry are tossing items into the truck's tail bed. I slide on into the back seat and Tara comes in after me.

Issac is here. He sits up against the window to my right. Ben and Harry stay in the back and one of them slaps the hood to indicate they're seated and ready. Then we're off. I look back at the compound. I don't know how... but I know I won't be back.

"Why are you here?" I ask Issac.

I can understand Tara. She's got this sociable thing that's proven to benefit the compound, if we're outsourcing it's wise to take her. As for the boys in the back I'm sure they've black marketed their way into Uncle Vine's good graces. This kind, lump of a boy next to me with his nose in a copy of 'This Not So Boring Vacation' by Fabian Nickels doesn't seem to have much in the way of war matters.

"Not sure. I just do as I'm told most days. Hard to say no when they've done so much for me." At least he's honest.

About ten minutes passes and we're only going deeper into the trees. I know the highway's are gone but this is itching my skin. I haven't gotten the slightest clue as to where we're going and I don't like being kept out of the loop.

The suns coming up. My stomach is growling. We were forced to skip breakfast on account of this excursion and we're not even offered an explanation. I lean forward.

"I want to ask who you are and where we're going but you have this intimidating factor that makes you impossible to approach and there's an underlying secrecy to you so I feel even this could get me and the others in trouble. I don't like that." I blurt it out, I don't have time to waste on uncertainty when so much is at steak.

He looks at me in the rear view mirror. There's a weird half smile to his face. He lifts the cap off his head, scratches his scalp, and clears his throat.

"Yeah I don't reckon you do feel much comfort Ms. Spring." He's got an american accent, like someone from the deep south. That frightens me.

"I'm taking you to a friend of mine. She wants to help." He says, "I ain't got much information for you... I'm sorry. I'm doing the best I can. I should warn you though, I'm a schizophrenic and I ran out of my medication two days ago. I suspect the hallucinations will come back soon. Just... be wary of me."

There's a god awful storm outside. Ben and Harry hide beneath a blue tarp to protect themselves from the rain. Issac closes his book and sits up straight in his seat. We're so deep in the forest I just saw a Scottish Wildcat. Our driver is a mental patient. This isn't good.

He cuts on the radio. A hit radio station plays songs that were popular last year. The hum of the truck muffles him as he has conversations with himself. I'm scared.

Tara takes my hand and I let her, "He's been bringing the commune great supplies every other day for weeks. He's kind, protective, and I saw him personally patch a boy back together who'd been blown to bits in a factory fire. I think we can trust him."

I lean into her to whisper, "Not if he doesn't trust himself."

An unknown amount of time passes. Conversation between the three of us back here has been all but non-existent. We're taking a strong turn and going down a gravel driveway. Everything goes dark aside from what little the headlights of the truck illuminate and we've gone through a tunnel in the side of the mountain.

I feel Tara's grip on my hand tighten. I don't mind. It steadies me a bit. We're going deeper and deeper into the earth and I'm unsure if the driver knows where he's even going anymore.

We level out eventually. The road becomes regular pavement. There's vines hanging from above us in the cave. Vine... uncle Vines. Does this have something to do with his name? Light comes out overhead and we're coming out into an open prarie divided by the highway on which we drive.

Up ahead is another forest but it's not as thick as the one we just escaped. My mind is swimming. I have no idea where we are. There's no one out here that would know who Charlie is, let alone where to find him. The others that are with us don't seem to have any information at all. The rain has cleared up a little and there's a big brilliant moon above us in the sky but it's not enough to ease the tension.

"Please!" Shouts Uncle Vines a little aggressively as he comes to a grinding halt.

Something slams into the wall behind my seat and I worry it's one of the boys heads busting open like a watermelon beneath the tarp. Blue comes into view where I'm looking over my shoulder. Harry is pulling Ben up and to his chest. The two of them sit there up against that hump where the tire is underneath the tail bed.

I see the look on Ben's face. He's injured but Harry's comforting him. Trauma changes people, I suppose. It's kind of sweet.

Only when I look back at the man in the driver's seat finding it difficult to catch a breath any and all resolve surrounding the feelings I just had vanish. He's arguing with himself. That's not something I know how to help with.

Eventually he settles down and we continue on our way. We're only driving for about five more minutes before we pull into the driveway of a rather comfortable looking home. Two stories, above ground. A little basement too with one of those great hatches.

We're getting out and I'm with Tara helping the boys get some of the supplies out of the back. It's blankets, clothes, and at least a weeks worth of food. Are we going to be living here?