Epilogue

The storm that engulfed the wasteland continued to rage on. The harsh winds were beating on a lone boy who had ventured out into it. Was it bravery? Was it stupidity? He didn't know himself. He had come out with one purpose. Dressed head to toe in thick clothing, on top of that, he wore a cloak that covered most of that. His head was covered in a thick mask with glass goggles that fogged up with every breath.

He wandered, though it was not aimless. He had a direction, for he had been given a small device that would act as a tracker. As long as the dot on the tracker was in front of him, he could walk forward. Time was limited; it wouldn't be long before the signal would be shut off, that is what he was told. So, he walked. What would he find when he reached the dot? Not even he knew what he should expect to see. Still, he walked.

Over the hill, across a field, through a forest. He passed by plenty of dead scenery, covered by the blanket of the storm. He would never know how far he had gone, nor how he could hope to get back. He had no plans to go back. Once he reached the dot, he would simply choose a direction and keep walking. He had been told he would find his way out of the storm. He was not sure he believed that.

Finally, the small device started to beep. It was faint and could hardly be heard over the wind. He did not notice it but knew to turn around when the dot suddenly went behind him on the device. He had finally reached the location—a small shelter, or rather the remains of one. Holes in the sides and roof suggested the sand was not being kept out. He walked to the shelter, opened the door, and stepped inside. The room was filled with sand, except for a small corner of it that the remaining shelter managed to cover.

In that corner sat a girl. She sat pressed into the corner with her knees up to her chin. Her long, red hair covered her face. It was the only color in this dreary scene. She had not heard him enter due to the winds of the storm drowning out all other sounds. He walked up to her and tapped on her knee. She jumped, almost straight up, before losing her balance and falling. He laughed and offered an outstretched hand to her. All the while, he took off his bulky mask and took a breath of the sandy air. She didn't smile immediately. She didn't immediately cry. She just stared at him for a moment before doing both.

She accepted his hand, and he pulled her up. Swiftly, he removed the cloak and wrapped it around her. She donned her mask and goggles, damaged as they were. He put his mask back on. They each grabbed each other's hands, as to not lose each other in the coming journey. Then he picked a direction. It was entirely random. They began walking forward.

She had left a bag behind. It was full of a random assortment of expired nutrient bars. Food that gave vitamins but didn't taste very good. She had held on dearly to that bag that she had now left behind. With each step they took, they got farther from the bag. Another step and their silhouettes were getting blurry. Another step and they were almost out of view. Another step and they could no longer be seen. They would keep taking steps until they reached their goal wherever it may be.