The sun was rising, cresting over the crumbling remains of an old stone building. It was once a grain mill, but even before the wars, it had been abandoned as larger processing factories took over, and the old ways of milling wheat were given up. Now, it was hard to tell what it was anymore. If not for the fortifications given to it at some point to retain it's historical value, it probably would've collapsed over a hundred years ago. At this point, the building was lucky to still have most of it's roof and a few windows. But despite it's crumbling stature and fractured infrastructure, it was still strong enough to serve as a shelter from the wind and rain.
Curled beneath the remaining pieces of overhanging roof, a form was curled up among old, thin blankets; a girl of around twenty years of age. Bits of water from the night's rainstorm had pooled in puddles around her, but miraculously she was mostly dry. Drops of dew clung to the rough fibers of her blankets, held up by the tiny wool strands. They were shaken and disturbed, however, as she was stirred. Her brown eyes opened, and she pulled the scratchy covers off of her head, revealing a mess of tangled hair. She rubbed her dirty, freckled cheeks, and squinted at the light which had disturbed her.
"Well, that certainly could have been worse." She mumbled to herself, sitting up. From where she was, she could see through large portions of the building where the walls had crumbled and fallen entirely. The forest had started creeping in on the building, and vines crawled through the doorway. "Bit of a draft, ay, Brooke?" She chuckled to herself, folding her blankets up. "Better get going." Throughout the night she had clung to her backpack, which was equally as torn and ratty as she blankets were, but made a good makeshift pillow at night, and had stayed relatively dry. After shoving the blankets back inside, she dug through the outer pockets until she found the last of her food. Holding up the short tin can, she frowned, wondering what was inside. The labels had long ago worn off, but hopefully whatever was left inside was still good. After all, she'd once eaten hundred-year-old tuna, and it was still as fresh as canned tuna could be.
Brooke cracked off the lid. The smell hit her before she could really look at the contents, and she swiftly tossed the can out the window, hearing it clink and slosh on the forest floor. "So there is an expiration date on canned beans." She sighed. "I guess I'm skipping breakfast." Instead, she made do by taking a long drink from one of cleanest puddles she could find. It wasn't very filling, but at least she was hydrated.
She tossed her pack over her shoulder and made her way out of the crumbling mill. The one upside to the rain was the smell. Brooke breathed deeply as she sidestepped down the cobblestone stairs, and set foot in the forest. The air was fresh, clean, crisp... It made her smile. That alone was reason enough to be glad for the storm.
There was a dirt road which crossed by the front of the mill. She had travelled along it from the East, where she can from near the Coast of Florida; or at least, what used to be Florida. From there, she travelled West, into Georgia, where she was now. But her destination was one state further: Alabama. That's where Genesis was, and her brother. He had travelled there ahead of her to secure places for both of them in the new city. Genesis would be the first true city in almost two hundred years, and they were going to be a part of it. For the first time in her life, Brooke wouldn't have to scavenge for food and run from mutated animals in the woods. She would have a home again... A place of safety. Hope bridled in her chest as she started walking down the road- closer to her destination.
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