#hells.pdstarter

[antniacmpana]

Never let it be said that Antonia Campana couldn’t plan for a crisis. The Left Hand Brewery was teeming with busy people, busy raiders and busy rogues seeking shelter from the coming storm. La tormenta perfecta. Nia had given everyone a job, whether they wanted one or not; she’d tripled the number of watchers at their perimeter, whether they were sentinels or not; and she’d made sure she wasn’t idle either so that no one could say she wasn’t worth her shit.

She absolutely was. Their preparations were going to pay off and she knew it. They had guns and ammo, they had gasoline, they had plenty of eyes on the city stretching out past their territory, and plenty of ears on the radio to keep updates coming to the camp as soon as they were broadcast. But in a crisis, there was always more to do. “What is it? Spit it out,” she demanded. “We have only so much time.”

[mxtilton]

Max could feel a stroke coming on every time he blinked. He was running back and forth across the extent of Balfour’s boundaries trying to coordinate all the sentinels and keep everyone sane — saner than he even felt. Breathless from a run from their front line back to the main buildings, he stuck his head in his last hope’s doorway and panted, “We need more people that can shoot without wasting bullets. Can you come help me out? Please?”

[cnlydcrkness-blog]

a s t r a n g e feeling of comfort always seemed to wash over the teenage boy when the static of that radio roared to life. there was a familiarity there, someone speaking in a calm manner towards him, even if it wasn't a specific message. if anyone had ever asked why he had continued to pack that thing around throughout the months of survival, he always told them it was his father's, something he had left of him, but that was a LIE. It was a beacon of hope for him, but he'd never admit that. this time, though, as the static washed over the serene area around him, there was a sense of p a n i c that seemed to swarm the air riley breathed. a HOARD. It was less than an hour later when he had all of his belongings packed and he began his journey to safety.

[oonasayers]

a  bored,   dull  look  covers  delicate  features.   platinum  hair  is  a  mess,   tasseled  and  tangled  into  a  bun  on  the  top  of  her  head.   keeping  her  eye  out  as  she  walks  back  to  her  place,   green  eyes  spot  another  survivor.   it’s  not  her  job  to  protect  them,   she’s  half  tempted  not  to  say  anything  at  all  about  the  walker  on  their  tail.   but  her  conscience  wouldn’t  allow  for  that.   ❝ HEY!   คนบ้า!   ❞   a  huff  escapes  plump  lips.   ❝   look  behind  you.   didn’t  you  hear  the  announcement?   it’s  not  safe  out  here.   ❞   nevermind  the  fact  that  she’s  out,   unprotected  and  on  her  own.