New World Rising Read Free

When The Devastation came she got her comeuppance. For every life science had saved, she reaped thousands.
    There were many names for what happened to the world. Some called it the Armageddon or the apocalypse; others saw it as nature’s way of purging itself. Either way, the destruction of the world was devastating. It started with the earthquakes. While cities fell into rubble, other parts of the earth opened up. Once dormant volcanoes awoke, searing the sky and smothering the land. Then the water came. The earth took back its land, drowning most of the world. Oceans swallowed continents whole, countries that once shared borders became islands and islands disappeared never to be seen again.
    Governments fell apart and panic ruled. So many lives were lost, technologies destroyed. Life as the human race knew it ceased to exist. But, as with all great travesties, there came hope. Survivors banded together, The Wall was built and The Sanctuary was created. Those who sought security and equality were welcomed to The Sanctuary with open arms. Those who sought power and dominance were left to Tartarus. Cultures ceased to exist and races blended together but the human race still found a way to divide itself. The Sanctuary formed a civilization that ostracized the world outside its walls, and that abandoned world formed the Tribes to survive. This was the New World.
    I traced my father’s script, wishing for the one answer he didn’t leave me. Why did he make our family leave The Sanctuary?
    No matter how many times I reread his pages or how many times I traced his words, the answer was never there. I wished I could remember something, anything from before the night of my parents’ deaths. But it was as if all those memories had died with them. I think maybe it was my mind’s way of protecting itself. I would get flashes of them reading me books or looking up at my mother as I held her hand. But that’s all they were. Flashes. I set his journal aside and opened the can of pears, relishing the sweet smell. I pulled one out, toasting myself before taking a bite.
    “Happy Birthday.”

 
     
     
     
    I AWOKE WITH a start, my arms flailing outward, as the scream caught in my throat. It only took seconds to recognize my surroundings, to calm my racing heart. This was how I awoke every morning, every morning since my parents died. After years I managed to restrain the scream, awakening before it escaped my lips. Screaming in the night could get you found, screaming during the daytime would get you killed.
    I checked my father’s watch in the green light. It was nearly three in the afternoon. There were still hours until dark. I knew I would have to stock up more food before I left for my next refuge, but scavenging during the daytime wasn’t an option.
    Thumbing through my book collections, I felt uninspired and bored, having already read them so many times. I thought about trying to sleep longer but my mind was too awake. After eating a breakfast of dried apples, I made a plan to grow my personal library. Aside from needing something else to distract my mind, books always proved a good source of trade. Those few of us who defied the Tribes kept to ourselves and stayed quiet. We never gathered, nor really ever trusted one another. But when goods ran scarce, trades were not uncommon. It was finding the right recluses to trade with that was key. One wrong choice and you could easily find yourself with empty hands and a knife in your back. A select few of my merchants knew how to read and those that didn’t, never turned down good kindling.
    Rifling through my few belongings, I decided to leave my larger backpack behind. It was too heavy and often cumbersome while crawling through the vents. I would only need a small tote big enough to carry books. My revolver lay on the mattress in its holster. I eyed it, speculating if it was needed. I always took it with me outside or to hunt for food, but no one ever came in the library