The sun’s first rays woke Rayne, and she sat up as the events of the previous day flooded back, scanning the dirty grey clouds for several minutes before she relaxed. Hoarfrost whitened the ground and rimed the trees and bracken. The chilly air nipped at her nose and numbed her fingers and feet. Her legs had stiffened, and the pain made her gasp as she dragged more wood from the dwindling pile and lighted a new fire. As soon as a tiny blaze took hold, she huddled close to it and almost thrust her hands into the flames to warm them. Her breath steamed, and she clenched her jaws to prevent her teeth from chattering as she waited for the sun to warm the air.
By mid-morning, her leggings were dry, and she dressed and ate a little food. She pondered the flying saucer’s attack again, trying to fathom the reason for the senseless assault on an unimportant girl. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that she would never figure it out. She sighed, remembering the dangers that had honed her reactions so keenly.
Rayne’s parents had joined the revolution in 2020, when wages had been cut to food stamps only, and so many had lost their jobs. It had been madness, not a real rebellion. They had been killed in a riot when the troops had shot most of the crowd on the government’s orders. Massacring crowds reduced the overpopulation that ruined the economy and threatened dwindling food supplies, as well as curbing civil unrest. People had become a burden, and the army had been ordered to sacrifice the many for the sake of the few. She and Rawn had been at home when their parents had been killed, and had fled to avoid the looters who came afterwards in search of food.
The erratic weather had wreaked havoc. Harvests had failed, floods had washed away entire crops, and droughts had hit other areas. Hail storms had caused terrible damage and freak winds or wild fires had ruined what was left. Earthquakes had ravaged some countries, and the resulting famine and disease had wiped out entire populations. Crops that had survived the weather became sickly, and the remaining livestock had been slaughtered. The ozone layer had thinned, and millions starved. People had eaten their pets, turned on each other and abandoned their children to die in the streets. Mankind had turned to the last remaining food source and hunted whales and dolphins to extinction, wiping out fish stocks.
It had been a time of turmoil and terror. People had killed randomly, burnt and looted in their desperate search for food. The government had ordered the army to keep order and reduce the population, but the soldiers had rebelled and gone home to their families. The putrid stink of decaying or burning flesh had filled the air, and hospitals had become charnel houses. All the while, the world had died. Rawn had looked after her since then. They had run and hidden, trusting no one, two frightened children in a world gone mad.
Rayne frowned, becoming alert as a prickle of unease made the hairs on her nape rise. Years of being hunted had honed her survival instincts, and she never ignored her sixth sense. A brilliant golden glow appeared about ten metres away, forcing her to squint. In an instant it faded, and a man dressed in strange white clothes and a tinted helmet stood there.
Rayne stared at him, unable to breathe, frozen with shock. If he had moved she would have run, and she sensed his scrutiny as she groped for and found a fist-sized rock. The stranger wore what appeared to be a weapon on his hip, and she wondered what use the rock would be if he chose to use his weapon. The stone dug into her palm, which grew sweaty. Her lungs burnt for air, forcing her to breathe again. The golden light shrouded the stranger once more, and when it faded, he was gone.
Rayne stared at the spot where he had stood, then rose and limped over to examine it. Two footprints proved she had not been hallucinating, and she shivered, glancing at the sky. Unease made her retreat to her fire and build it into a blaze. Her eyes darted around, vigilant for any sign of danger.