Learning To Live

In the year 2086, infection has broken out all over the world. There is believed to be only three percent of humanity scattered across the globe. This young girl has lost everything; her parents her best friends, her siblings, almost everything! But she refuses to give up--for if she gives up, she will lose all hope, and never see her Aunt Maryann again; her last chance for something to save herself, and her sanity. Will she ever find her Aunt Maryann? Or will she spend the rest of her life in Base Camp 1, waiting for a cure?


Cover made by: Broken Inside and meg1

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8. Chapter 8

Outside it was quiet, which wasn't normal.

Maybe it'll be easy. I thought to myself.

But I scolded myself, ever since infection, nothing was easy. So, just incase, I kept my hand on the knives I had.

After about 30 minutes, still nothing happened and my mind began to wander.

The first thought I had was about Logan and instantly a lump formed in my throat.

Already I missed his red hair and his crooked smile.

Calm down. I told myself. Keep your guard up.

"Okay," I said out loud, to calm my nerves. "Okay,"

I looked around and tried to remember which direction I had come from when I first arrived here.

I came from the left--no, the right.

I turned around and started walking that way.

"Rylee!" I put my hand on my knife and whipped around. There was no one there.

I'm going crazy. I thought.

I started walking again, with my hand still on the hilt of my knife.

"Rylee! Hey! Wait up!" I whirl around again and this time I see Logan rushing towards me.

"What are you doing?" I hiss at him.

He doesn't answer, but rage and confusion is written all over his face. "Why?" He demands.

"Why, what?" I ask.

"Why did you leave?" He asks, his temper rising. "We--we took you in, gave you food and--and shelter, and you just leave without even saying goodbye?"

The anguish in his eyes, leaves a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, as I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.

My eyes suddenly snap open as I hear it. That sound I had always dreaded, everyday that I was out on my own.

"Why?" Logan's shouting now.

Then the realization settles over me. "Logan," I frantically, urgently whisper to him. "Keep your voice down."

He scrunches his eyebrows together. "Why?" He asks again. His voice softer.

I hear a deep, strangled cry coming in front of me, off into the distance.

"Because," I whisper, my hands slide back to the hilts of my knives. "They can hear us."

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