I remember my last day as a "normal" teenager - going to cheer for a school that I hated and for a team that I hated even more. I remember how Katy Bass spilled orange juice all over my uniform before the big game, the heartbreak of my parent's death and moving in with my crazy Uncle who constantly rambled about far-out, imaginary government conspiracies. I remember when our country was turned over to the newest "leader of the free world"". It was the same day my life was flipped upside and my uncle's seemingly crazy conspiracy theories came to fruition. I remember it like it was yesterday, the day when the walls went up around the city and I grabbed everything my arms could hold and ran away to hide with my not-so-crazy uncle. It was the day I became 2nd leader of The Clan. .
I woke up in darkness, in a type of hell I never knew could exist on earth. I heard water dripping like the sound of a leaking faucet and I tried to sit up to see where the noise was coming from. Immediately, my head pounded as the blood rushed from my head back into my body, my limbs. I was overcome with nausea and so dizzy I couldn't have possibly stood up. I was on the floor of some type of dungeon but had no idea how I'd gotten there. I remembered being hit on head with something incredibly heavy - perhaps it was a sledgehammer. I did remember the moment of attack, but beyond that, I could put very few pieces together. I did remember that I'd been getting medical supplies on the outskirts of Seattle, which was now called Sector 22. I'd rummaging through a abandoned hospital in an effort to gather as many bandages, disinfectants, medications and other first-aid items I could find. I remember the swift sound of something coming up behind me. And it goes blank from there . .
I wondered how long I'd been unconscious, lying on this freezing cold, damp floor. I finally got up with my head still pounding and put my hands on the wall, groping in the darkness until I found the door.