There are two types of people in the world. Raiders. Survivors. If you don’t fit in either, you’re a Biter. This was Casey’s world now. Gone were the books, revision for exams. Now, she helped ration food and cook for the small community.
The camp was good. Crops grew. Biters were few. No Raiders for ten days now until throbbing engines could be heard in the distance. There wasn’t panic as everyone knew their role. As Casey ran to hide, counting the children in, her father came running up. He handed guns to Jack and AJ; boys Casey’s age.
“We need you. You up for the job?” he asked. The boys nodded vigorously, itching for the opportunity to show they were now men, and get their hands on the guns.
“What about me?” Casey asked.
“If they stay, I stay.”
“I don’t want you to see this Casey. I’ve got to protect you.”
Casey stood before her father, laying a hand on his rifle. “You can’t shield me from my responsibilities. This is my world now Dad. I gotta get used to it. I gotta start fighting for it. You’ve got to let me fight.” She saw pain in his eyes as he loosened his grip on the rifle. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“I know,” he whispered as he watched his child run to the boundary, shedding her innocence with every step. “That’s what worries me.”
239written for Siobhan Muir's Thursday Threads over at The weird, the Wild and the Wicked