Chapter Three: Identity

I look at her hand, then at her, then her hand again.  It seems an odd gesture, shoving her hand in front of my face, though I feel as if I've seen it before.  But you never know with a name like that.  I can't tell why, but I know that 'Fleet' isn't generally a name.  But of course I have nothing to compare it to from my lack of communicating with others.  I wonder why she even goes by a name when she's been alone all this time according to her story.

Chapter Two: The Stranger

The first thing I notice is just how cold my back is, and how grating the dirt is against my burnt skin.  The second thing is just how warm my chest is, and how my arms are wrapped around something.  I feel my arms rise and fall, and the sound of breathing is audible.  With a start I realize it’s the stranger I met the other day that I'm currently wrapped around.  I try to shift my arms but she starts to move as well and I realize that she's sleeping, her slow and rhythmic breathing soothing my panicked mind.  Not wishing to wake her I stay as I am, praying that she'll wake up in a good mood and won't kill me.

Time seems to be at a standstill as I wait motionless in the dark.  I can't really see anything, but I have a feeling that this is in fact the hole she was talking about, and I doubt there's much room to move around.  I jump when I feel her arms wrap around me in her slumber and I get squeezed.  It takes all my willpower not to scream, not just from the intense sensation of pain that my body is going through but also the frustration of being unable to move or escape.  My life is entirely in her hands, and there is nothing I can do to change that, so all I can do is wait for the day that I have recovered enough to survive on my own.

Chapter One: A Warm Reception

Bright light fills my vision, obscuring the world around me.  Flames consume everything in existence, scorching the very air in my lungs as I desperately try to breathe.  I struggle to my feet, gasping at the environment I have awoken to, ears pounding as the building roars its fiery anguish.  I can barely see through the smoke induced tears and the incredibly bright light, but I stumble over some of the ceiling, now a pile of rubble on the floor, and trip into a hallway.  I can hear the agonized screaming of someone else who had chosen this building as their shelter, but I have no time to save them.  My survival is all that matters.