Three months. It had been three months since all the adults had been taken by the virus. Three months since Callie, along with all the other children and young adults of the world were left to their own devices. To try and survive as madness and chaos rained down on them. Everyone was off the grid - there was no internet, barely any electricity or running water, and food was becoming more and more scarse. The streets were deserted, vehicles and buildings had been pillaged, demolished and tagged with graffiti as people grew desperate for their survival. And as was human nature, in a fight for survival, it soon became to eat or be eaten. People flocked together and started to form gangs, or tribes rather, and started to claim parts of the city and surrounding areas to exert their dominance and slowly feed into their festering hunger for power.
Callie had not been lucky to find herself part of a tribe to shield her from the harsh world outside, nor did she particularly feel like joining those who currently ruled the streets. They chose violence and fear over peace and diplomacy, thriving on the thrill of the hunt, the bullying of the innocent, young and weak. They played the tyrant's war, and that was no way she wanted to survive. But in choosing to stay independent, she also became a target. So far she had managed to survive on canned goods she managed to scavenge on the few trips she dared to go outside, always on the move to avoid capture, but she knew it wouldn't be long before one of the tribes would claim the entire city. She had to find a safe haven, preferably in the country side. But getting there by herself was easier said than done...
