Really Random Rants

Scavengers

A book I wrote over the summer... I don't have any new ideas to continue it, but here's what I have.

I don't know why we do it. I don't remember who sent us out or why we were the group chosen to Find...we just were.

But it doesn't matter who.

Because if you stop to think in the Lost...

They'll get you.

Prologue

Fourteen years ago, when I was just one year old, the World War destroyed everything. The North American Weapon had obliterated the entire South Eastern Hemisphere, leaving a barren wasteland. The radiation killed off all in range, chopping Asia's population in half. Those in the northern areas escaped to the Underground, and have lived there ever since.

Soon enough, the entire world was living Underground, far below the Surface. And not just because of the War's aftermath. Things happened up there while we humans were gone. Unexplainable things.

Four years after everyone went Underground, we realized we were running out of resources. So Coalitions were formed to share and protect the limited resources we had. And then, another year after that, it was realized that untouched resources were waiting on the Surface.

So Coalition G sent up a small group of survivors up to collect them.

But then Coalition X got jealous and sent up a bigger group to take the resources from the G's.

The G's locked all the resources in a huge coffer and met the X's in battle.

The X's won, but the key was lost.

And then all the X's mysteriously never returned.

In the years since, all 25 Coalitions have sent up numerous Scavenger groups, collecting small Artifacts before the group is killed and replaced by another. Each Coalition finds amazing things. Small, intricate little trinkets that would normally be overlooked. But each Coalition is hoping to Find the Master Artifact.

Each Coalition is hoping to Find the Resource Key.

Chapter One

"And the new Scavengers for Coalition Y...is...Group 2-94!"

The words rang through my ears.

2-94...that's my group. Were we seriously just Selected for the suicide mission?!

I followed our group's Leader, Griffin, with the rest of the group in tow, up onto the raised platform.

We lined up in order of Occupation, staring out into the audience.

"Can we please have your name and Occupation, please?" The woman asked. She seemed a little too cheery for my taste.

"Griffin, The Leader." Griffin said flatly.

How'd she like to taste my fist...

Griffin handed me the microphone.

"Oh," I mumbled as I caught the small black cylinder. "Um, Witt...The Keeper." I adjusted the satchel by my side as I handed the mic to Quentin on my left.

"Quentin, The Recorder." He mumbled loudly before passing it on.

"Finn, The Hunter."

"York, The Gatherer."

"Orion, The Cook."

The lady took the microphone the split second after Orion finished. "Well isn't that lovely."