🏆 WATTPAD CREATORS PROGRAM 🏆
𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌. 𝘛𝘞𝘖. 𝘖𝘕𝘌. 𝘙𝘶𝘯.
Thirteen must do one thing: escape. With the game taking a different course, he has to deal with his previous allies who are now out for a taste of his blood. As secrets, betrayals...
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The boy kept to the back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He sniffed and craned his neck to the sky. They had been walking for an hour, but still a long way off. That was, assuming his lead wasn't lying. But why would they? They were as confused as everyone when it came to the world they were on.
He had told his fair share of lies, and most of them were to increase his chances of survival. Lies wouldn't serve anyone apart from those who tell them. In an ideal world, everyone should survive. Because it included him too. Being selfless was easy if one had a foot in salvation's door.
The sun had taken a turn in the sky, bringing the light out with it. Everyone stared out into the mess of bricks, glass, and concrete. In the dark, the boy lost count of how many times he tripped over an exposed root of some grass network and gnarly tree or a chip in the pavement and in the asphalt. The tip of his boots glowed white against all the plaster and mud they traversed even in the dim moonlight.
They wove around clear alleys that were smaller and darker. Toppled buildings covered most of the wider ones, the sight oddly reminiscent of a child's playground with towers made of blocks. The only difference was the buildings' sides jutted out towards the sky like hungry hands craving to be pulled from the ground. In the darkness of the night, their silhouettes likened to sleeping giants. Or fallen ones, the reinforcing steel rods protruding from their "bodies" resembling the weapons that slew them.
"This way," one of the boy's companions said, waving a hand over her shoulder to beckon them. Her blond hair bounced against her back. "Keep an eye on each other. This is a tricky road."
The boy had stopped paying attention after the third left after a long time of taking only forwards and rights. The blond girl couldn't have found this by luck. She must have spent a long time getting lost within this concrete maze.
The queue stalked towards a timely facade of a house. Residential, judging from the lines streaming in and out of the windows on its sides. Those could have been used for clothes, for drying. Some of those clothes had slipped from the wires, piling over each other on the immediate ground. What a waste of laundry.
The spaces between houses were alleys in themselves. Whoever owned land around these parts enjoyed a bounty. They drew closer to the door. The blond girl stepped up the porch lined with pots of dessicated succulents and gripped the knob. It twisted with ease. The boy eyed the hole punched through the glass window to the door's left. She must have unlocked it from the inside the first time she went here.
The dried plants bore witness to everyone's entry. Brittle leaves rustled against the gentle breeze blowing from the west, standing tall in their plastic boxes mounted on the fence guarding the house. White paint peeled off the planks, taking the splinters along with them.
They better find something here. Something they could use to get out of this place.
He swallowed against the dryness creeping into his throat. Water has come and gone, and they have been walking under direct sunlight as early as the first light. The best course was to ignore, especially when they piled into the foyer and interesting details popped up.
