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Hello, I'm going to be posting all of the part of this, you can give constructed criticism. Remember I'm only 13. If you have any idea for the next part just quote the part and say what you need to. I used Google Docs if anyone if wondering
The terrain of the midwest was like a semi-arid wasteland. Ithaca knew better than to complain though. At least it wasn't a jungle filled with elaborate mazes of brush, snakes, and mutant dogs. She had gotten here from a city west of here, near a river. St. Louis, Ithaca thought the name of the city was, well at least before the war. The track from St. Louis was hard and long. The anarchy that had erupted in the city when the war came was extreme. Ithaca survived it all, the bandits, the thieves, the water elementals that had come out from the river. She thought of it as a test, one that empowered her to go further.
Ithaca was walking on a seemingly infinite road of old paved concrete. There was many unusable parts of the road of course, but that was only in the old standards of living. Now any road was used no matter it's condition. The particular road she was using was some back road, it's name lost in time. People didn't need to name things anymore. What was the use of them? People back then would name everything from pets, building, even things you can't see. She would on occasion walk in an old school. In these schools Ithaca would sometimes come across an old textbook. She would take a gander at the thing and ponder on why the people of old times believed in such things.
Time had passed and it was about midday and she had enough scavenged food for about a week in her pouch she wore on her belt. But she was coming up to an old town which was abandoned before the war came. These kinds of places were the best to prospect for equipment and food. She walked up to a car that was a couple dozens yards from the first building. Probably the most appealing thing about these places is that they had little or no people and were isolated from larger centers of populations. She thought for sure that this place was void of people until she saw a figure in the distance. Ithaca crouched behind the car and peaked to see who the person might be and how far they were. At first gaze the person was male, a tall build, white by the looks. But the naked eye was always deceiving, it could be a mutant or something else that wandered the midwest.
Ithaca sat there for awhile seeing the person walk in and out of the building carrying things that appeared to be food and equipment. She sat there holding herself back from running in guns blazing. Avoiding getting hurt was number one priority, any sort of wound could be deadly without proper treatment. Ithaca sat there waiting for the man to go so she could see what he left. Suddenly she saw the man stop and turn around toward the car. The man drew a shotgun and pointed near her. She drew hers it was obvious now, the man must of saw her.
The man shot two times and took cover behind the building. From his actions Ithaca knew that he had one of those shotguns that shot only two at a time. She got up and shot her gun, she missed, a warning shot. And what was now more clearly a man turned and shot. At first he seemed to miss, she shot twice before then felt a strong pain in her leg. Ithaca went back down behind the car and saw that the man had got her in the leg and scimed her arm. Ithaca kneeled down and shot again, she missed. The man dashed to a closer building only ten yards away. Ithaca shot but frustratingly the bullets went past him, her leg had a limp and she couldn't stand anymore. The man walked closer pointing near the car. Ithaca stood one last time in retaliation and shot. She heard a tick. Out of bullets. The man saw Ithaca and point the gun at her dull plain face.
The man's face was more clear now, he had buzzed hair and a short scraggly beard. His hair was a brown hue and had eyes that were a light blue, which didn't make him less furious. He shook his gun motioning her to put the revolver that she had down. She did what he wanted, it was hopeless she had no more ammunition and was wounded. Ithaca put her hands up and went on her knees. The man looked at her. His eyes looked down at her face then her body. His look made him seem a bit lustful. But the man grabbed her gun opened the chamber and put one bullet inside. He opened his bag and pulled out a can of food and set it down. He looked at her one last time then ran away. Ithaca got up and looked at him run, this was a first time someone showed her mercy. She looked at the horizon which was turning a reddish-orange hue from the sun setting, Ithaca was thankful she was still alive. With a few painful steps she stepped inside a building and sat in the corner. Ithaca took out her canteen and started to tend to her wound. Ithaca would always remember this day's peril and it's significance.
A Lonely Road: Part 1
By: Alex "Green" Stevens
The terrain of the midwest was like a semi-arid wasteland. Ithaca knew better than to complain though. At least it wasn't a jungle filled with elaborate mazes of brush, snakes, and mutant dogs. She had gotten here from a city west of here, near a river. St. Louis, Ithaca thought the name of the city was, well at least before the war. The track from St. Louis was hard and long. The anarchy that had erupted in the city when the war came was extreme. Ithaca survived it all, the bandits, the thieves, the water elementals that had come out from the river. She thought of it as a test, one that empowered her to go further.
Ithaca was walking on a seemingly infinite road of old paved concrete. There was many unusable parts of the road of course, but that was only in the old standards of living. Now any road was used no matter it's condition. The particular road she was using was some back road, it's name lost in time. People didn't need to name things anymore. What was the use of them? People back then would name everything from pets, building, even things you can't see. She would on occasion walk in an old school. In these schools Ithaca would sometimes come across an old textbook. She would take a gander at the thing and ponder on why the people of old times believed in such things.
Time had passed and it was about midday and she had enough scavenged food for about a week in her pouch she wore on her belt. But she was coming up to an old town which was abandoned before the war came. These kinds of places were the best to prospect for equipment and food. She walked up to a car that was a couple dozens yards from the first building. Probably the most appealing thing about these places is that they had little or no people and were isolated from larger centers of populations. She thought for sure that this place was void of people until she saw a figure in the distance. Ithaca crouched behind the car and peaked to see who the person might be and how far they were. At first gaze the person was male, a tall build, white by the looks. But the naked eye was always deceiving, it could be a mutant or something else that wandered the midwest.
Ithaca sat there for awhile seeing the person walk in and out of the building carrying things that appeared to be food and equipment. She sat there holding herself back from running in guns blazing. Avoiding getting hurt was number one priority, any sort of wound could be deadly without proper treatment. Ithaca sat there waiting for the man to go so she could see what he left. Suddenly she saw the man stop and turn around toward the car. The man drew a shotgun and pointed near her. She drew hers it was obvious now, the man must of saw her.
The man shot two times and took cover behind the building. From his actions Ithaca knew that he had one of those shotguns that shot only two at a time. She got up and shot her gun, she missed, a warning shot. And what was now more clearly a man turned and shot. At first he seemed to miss, she shot twice before then felt a strong pain in her leg. Ithaca went back down behind the car and saw that the man had got her in the leg and scimed her arm. Ithaca kneeled down and shot again, she missed. The man dashed to a closer building only ten yards away. Ithaca shot but frustratingly the bullets went past him, her leg had a limp and she couldn't stand anymore. The man walked closer pointing near the car. Ithaca stood one last time in retaliation and shot. She heard a tick. Out of bullets. The man saw Ithaca and point the gun at her dull plain face.
The man's face was more clear now, he had buzzed hair and a short scraggly beard. His hair was a brown hue and had eyes that were a light blue, which didn't make him less furious. He shook his gun motioning her to put the revolver that she had down. She did what he wanted, it was hopeless she had no more ammunition and was wounded. Ithaca put her hands up and went on her knees. The man looked at her. His eyes looked down at her face then her body. His look made him seem a bit lustful. But the man grabbed her gun opened the chamber and put one bullet inside. He opened his bag and pulled out a can of food and set it down. He looked at her one last time then ran away. Ithaca got up and looked at him run, this was a first time someone showed her mercy. She looked at the horizon which was turning a reddish-orange hue from the sun setting, Ithaca was thankful she was still alive. With a few painful steps she stepped inside a building and sat in the corner. Ithaca took out her canteen and started to tend to her wound. Ithaca would always remember this day's peril and it's significance.