The Long Road

The beginning

There was a time when America was supreme. We had lustrous glass skyscrapers which towered above us all, hives of commerce. We had acres and acres of lush green prairie dotted with wild flowers and vast acres of dense forest, home to an immense variety of wildlife. We had soft, warm, golden beaches which were perfect for family outings and romantic evening strolls.

Now there is nothing. The skyscrapers are now just piles of dust and rubble on the parched, poisoned ground on which I am now standing. The lush emerald green prairies are now bleak and grey wastelands which glower as if they have lost the will to grow. The beaches are now scorching deserts, home to nothing more than dried up memories of the past.

My name is Eliza Harrow and I am one of the remaining few. The year is 1975, I think. Nobody cares much about that kind of thing anymore. And nobody is really sure how it started. From the charred remains of the books and newspapers from which we have reconstructed our history, the end of the world began when The Great Dictator won The Global War.

America stood alone as friendly nations fell and traitor nations turned against us. The Fall of France, Britain's Great Betrayal, The Battle of Mexico; these were all events which shaped our world and which we've almost forgotten. And ever since then, The Great Dictator has been slowly taking over the continents; Australia, Europe, and South America. And The Enemy has been killing or enslaving anybody off who didn't seem to fit into his ideals. And now he is coming for us. His advanced troops have already crossed into Texas and California.

We are under martial law and they are already building the death camps. He is heading our way and our only option is to flee northwards. Canada is the last great haven and that is where we are heading.

Our journey started at night, when The Enemy's soldiers were off duty. For what reason, we don't know but it was a risk that we were willing to take. During the day they strutted around as if they own the place, which, I suppose, they did now. But once night had fallen they seemed to disappear. Maybe they didn't feel strong enough to control us yet.