This week, Chuck had us going to a link where we clicked on a title generator. It gave us a choice of 6 titles, but we got pick only one. I chose 'The Seventh Stone'.
Enjoy!
Thunder grumbled in
the distance, and yet she felt it through the ground as she ran across the decimated
city centre where the nuclear blast had almost leveled the place over a century
ago.
This was the place
Star had lived… the place she had played as a child… the only place she knew.
She had heard
stories of how the big cities ran the world, how big industry made big money
and wars were run by the big industries. She was also told it was all political
bullshit and handed a rifle and a Beretta with an extra clip and told never to
trust anyone.
Yep, this was how
the post-apocalyptic world was like when your whole family was dead and you
lived with people you weren’t related to.
Then the dreams
started… at first Star thought they were nothing but some bad tacos (because
she had found some tins of refried beans in a store and they were a few weeks
over their used-by date) besides, everyone got food poisoning that week from
those beans… it was a really bad time.
Then, the dreams
didn’t stop, so she started writing them down to see if they formed a pattern –
and they did. Tas – her camp brother – told her to keep that shit to herself or
people would start looking at her funny or they’d think she was the next Oracle
(the last one was shot for giving out the wrong information by the leader of
their group). And so, Star did. In her pack, she had her A5 two-inch thick
journal which she kept at the bottom and wrote in a few notes about each day.
She wrote what she remembered from her lessons, poetry and how she’d like the
world to be.
And each night the
dream would be the same: a huge thunderstorm approaching, looking like a new apocalypse,
shaking the ground like an earthquake as she ran through the middle of an
abandoned city alone with her pack on, her Berretta in one hand, a smooth,
large, oval stone in the other with a Moon Stone imbedded in one end and a flat
base. Her rifle strapped across her right shoulder, fully loaded and ready to
be used. Her footsteps would echo as she
raced up a large set of steps and found herself at a place called ‘The
Rockafeller Centre’ where six others had gathered with similar stones in their
hands.
She had never seen
them before, but she knew they weren’t there to hurt her. They all stood at the
edge of the empty fountain which she’d only seen pictures of frozen and people
ice skating on it. Right in the middle – at the fountain – they all walked up
to the mound, finding the places to fit their particular stones. As each one
fitted in, a loud click echoed and a humming started up – as though something was
switched on. As she knelt down to place her stone in its holder – to click it
into place - the rain began to pour from the darkened skies and she felt
herself smile, because she knew this was a good thing, Star knew this was…
Her eyes snapped
open and daylight streamed through the muddy windows of the bus she called
home. But today, it was humid… today, there was a storm brewing – a big one –
and she knew today was the day she’d find that stone and start her journey into
the city.
“I don’t understand
what this thing is.” Tas said, turning it over in his hand, “But I found it in
the Hudson.” He handed it to her smiling, “You have described that dream to me
so many times to me, sister, I thought you’d be the one to hand it to.”
The moment the stone
weighed into her hands, Star knew immediately what to do, “Thank you Tas. I
appreciate what you’ve done for me… and …” she looked at it intensely, spotting
the Moon Stone, the flat bottom, “I ready to take my leave now… it’s time to take it
to its place.”
He handed her a new
clip for her gun, “Here, you’ll need this. And I’ll take care of your home.”
Smiling, she touched
his grimy cheek as she took the clip, “You can have it… I have a feeling I won’t
be coming back.”
He had walked her as
far as he dared to see her off before hugging her, kissing her, telling her he
loved her… and knowing that what she had said was most probably true. Life here
wasn’t valuable, it was what you made it.
Star jogged along
the empty city street nervously looking around as the storm clouds gathered
around the sentinel buildings, making the shadows surrounding her seem more imposing
than they already were. Then she saw it… the large set of stairs. They were
broken and chipped, but they were there.
She quickly picked
her way up them to the top where she stopped and looked up at the Rockafeller
Centre and its empty fountain where the people ice skated at Christmas…
Lightning flashed
and she noticed a movement to her right, spinning, raising her gun to see who
it was, only to be greeted with another pointing a gun at her holding a stone
as well, “Oh… hi… you as well.”
“Yeah.” The boy’s
voice shook, “I keep having these weird-ass dreams about this place but…”
“There’s gotta be
others.” She said looking around.
“But there are…” he
said lowering his weapon as she did.
“Okay… let’s see if
this works out.” She smiled at him.
They all – as one –
climbed into the large fountain, walked to the centre and found the placements
for their individual stones.
As each one was
placed, a humming commenced…
…the storm started
overhead.
As Star’s last one
clicked into place, they all stepped back as far as they could and watched as
lightning lit up the fountain and the world renewed itself once more.
