The afternoon sun hung low over Fortress four, casting long, honey-colored shadows across the open training grounds. The base was unusually quiet. It was the kind of quiet that followed after a massive crack down or in this case hunt for beacons.
A lot of residents were inside their homes, hiding like they would be grabbed and searched if they went outside. But, brave children, who had adapted to the apocalypse with childish joy were out playing.
The air was thick with the scent of trampled grass and the metallic tang of the crates stacked on the ground. Sunshine stepped onto the field, her boots crunching softly. She spotted Leah immediately. The woman was sitting in a foldable chair, her posture uncharacteristically soft. In her lap lay Ala, sound asleep. The girl was snoring with a rhythmic intensity that spoke of true, bone-deep exhaustion. Her small hands were stained with dirt and her fingers were curled around Mrs. Long legs.
