This is a #storygram (mini-story) from my Instagram, which you can get to via the social media links at the top of this site. I do my best to make them daily for you to enjoy! YES, many of them will hopefully be expounded upon in novels or other future writing endeavors of mine. Thank you very much for reading and sharing them! And don’t forget to check out my film Portfolio too!
The Story:
It wasn’t much, but it was their home. Well, more of a fortress than a home.
When the war ended, there was no structure left in the government. It crumbled from within, and the United States became nothing more than a stage for abandoned cities to perform the drama of their slow decay.
For eight years they had managed to stay hidden from the bands of rebels roaming the aftermath. But they found them.
“We can’t stay here much longer.”
“Jack, if we go out there, we die. I can’t sneak out an entire community.”
They were trapped like words in an unread book–that would be them. No one would ever know about them. Their stories would remain bound until they rotted into dust.
Under the falls they had all of the water and electricity they could want. But no food. They would have to face their enemy and die, or they would starve.
“We haven’t actually tried negotiating with them yet.”
“Do you honestly think they have any desire to negotiate anything but our death?”
“What about New Chicago? They’d help us,” said a boy about 12 years old.
“No one can get word to them, kid,” Jack said.
“Well, I can.”
Jack and Grant looked at each other.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Ralin Zalcory.”
Grant studied him intently.
“We’d have to shut off the electric grid. You’ll have a small window to get out of these tunnels before we reactivate it.”
“Grant, wait! You can’t be serious!”
Ralin followed Grant down a hallway to the power room.
“Once you’re outside, you can’t get caught, or they’ll kill you.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Grant, what about his parents?”
“I’m an orphan, sir.”
Jack used his eyes to plead the boy’s case, while Grant put his hand on the power grid shut off lever.
“Grant, you’re sending this boy to his death.”
Grant closed his eyes and thought about his own son doing this. But his son was dead, killed in a rebel skirmish last year.
He looked at Ralin.
“You can do this.”
He pulled the lever, and Ralin began his dash to the surface.