A young woman stood on the edge of a golden wheat field, her hair was plaited down her back, and a slight wind picked up the few strays of the starwberry blonde strands that always managed to escape hair nimble fingertips. She stood still, listening, her form stuck out against the hip tall sheafs of wheat. A pair of torn and faded blue jeans that were a few sizes too large, a red and black flannel checked shirt, the sleeves torn off, that was also a few sizes too large. About all that did fit her was a well worn pair of cowboy boots, that she guarded with her life.
The breeze smelled fresh, though that was always decieving. The wheat field swayed, a few gray storm clouds threatened on the horizon, but all in all it had turned out to be pretty day. It was now the heart of June, though she had lost track of the days, her sense of time seemed to stay with her. Sighing to herself, she started her trek across the field. She moved quickly and quietly, reminding herself of one of those jungle cats she had seen in her school days. It had been several months since she had come across another human, and at least a year since she had seen one alive.
Her bright green eyes scanned the path ahead, though she knew she was alone, she never quite felt it. The once large metropolis of Des Moines was just ahead, though now, it was desolte. Several of the buildings had imploded since the disasters. Earthquakes, Floods, Heatwaves, Massive electrical storms, all followd by sickness, famines, and death. At first, no one had beilived that the war would go as far as it had. The major governments would work out a treaty, and then go back on thier agreements. Eventually World War was the only path. She was so young at the time, eight years old, and she would never forget when her father had all of thier family and friends flown to his farm in the Heartlands.
Her parents pulled her and her siblings out of school, and for two years, the whole family worked. Stored food, supplies, clothing, water, every nessacary thing. Her father and uncles had built a huge underground bunker. Everyone had called her family crazy. And the strain had begun to wear on the whole fmaily. The called her fathr Old Noah, and laughed at them. No one laughed now. No one had laughed when the first American nuclear missle silo was blown up. They took to the shelter, and stayed for almost a whole year. Radio kept them fairly informed, untill the transmissions stopped coming. Her father and his brothers left the bunker shortly after that first year underground. They needed to know.
They found nothing. The fields and animals were poisined if they were still alive, but most everything was dead. The rivers looked clean, but there were no fish in them. No birds in the sky. No deer on the plains. The nearby towns were empty, most everything had been looted. Her fmaily had taken what was still salavgable. Canned foods, clothing that had been wrapped in platic, weapons and ammunition.
They had lived like that for a few weeks before radition posioning claimed one of her young cousins. The baby was three years old, born right before the bombings had caused the earthquakes. Her mother had told her that the first military base that was hit, was along a fault line. The first quake triggered several more, causing floods, changing weather patterns. The heartland of the US had not even seen the worst of it.
She shivered in her revealry, one by one the family memebers died. For some reason, she was still here. Why did it matter what she had thought about why she were still here? She had no one to share her opinons with anyhow. Her mother was the last to go, some months before today. And now here she was, scavenging for others leftovers. She had the shelter, but she had let her supplies run dangerously low. Her mother's passing had shaken her.
She belived it had been almost fifteen years. She was now 22 or 23. This was the first time in the big empty city by herself, and she couldn't help but think that she was here not only to find her supplies, but to search for other survivors, or maybe traces of them. Maybe she'd find some more information about what had happened those several years ago.