As the bombardment intensifies, she curls in the fetal position, hands clamped over ears. The bunker shakes, concrete walls quivering like paper, shockwaves vibrating through her bones. Screams catch in her throat as, all alone, she endures it. But when the onslaught eventually ceases, she crawls determinedly from her sanctuary to survey the wasteland she once called home. She glares at the distant city. Still resplendent – untouched – drones patrol its vast perimeter.

They negotiated peace at first, offered friendship, new technology, and coexistence. But it’s not human nature to share. Frowning, she clenches her fists. The war’s not over yet.

By Helen M Merrick

From: United Kingdom

Website: https://www.authorhelenmerrick.wordpress.com

Twitter: helenmerrick4