Stilt Town

The boy made his way along the narrow, rickety bridge. Reaching the other side of town was sometimes difficult, especially in a high wind. He passed several hungry, homeless men sitting out below the town on the stilts. There was nowhere else for them to go but to hold onto the cross sections of the cold, wet stilts, getting buffeted around by the raging sea. The boy had no time to stand and watch the homeless so he kept running, past the blacksmiths and the bar, past the homes of countless others who had survived the apocalypse, where the worlds people was pushed from the land and sent back to the dark ages. The boy dodged a bit of plank that had been kicked up by the wind. This was one of the worst storms this season. The clouds were angry, the deep, dark sea looking grim beneath him. He was nearly home; he could see his house just down the walkway and across the bridge. He was halfway down the walkway when a massive wave reached up and washed over the bridge. He felt the supports beneath him shake and saw several hobos get flung into the sea. As he looked down into the sea at the hobos, he noticed a light, traveling underneath the raging waves. With a gasp, he realized. A rival town was using the storm as a distraction. They would come and knock down the stilts to make the town fall. When all the townspeople had drowned, they would drive in and pick up resources. It was a clever raid. The storm would make it look like a tragic accident and no town would get the blame. The boy knew that he had to get to the bell to warn all the other citizens to get to the boats and escape. As he ran, he could feel the stilts cracking below him, lights shining through the cracks in the walkway. The bell was in the center of town, so he wasn’t too far away. From his left, a huge crunching noise split through the sound of the storm. The whole left sector of the town was falling. There wasn’t much time. He got to the bell tower and began the climb up the spiral staircase. He got to the top and rang the bell. Even with the storm, the noise was deafening. His job done, he now had to get to the boats himself. Running as fast as he could, he got to the docs and jumped into the entry hatch on one of the submarines. He looked out the periscope to see if anybody was coming. A father and his son and daughter were running down to the docs. The boy knew this family; the man’s wife had died that last year to a violent and very graphic shark attack, and they had all been suffering from trauma and depression ever since. They were nearly at the submarine. The boy held open the hatch and called for them to come with him. the man smiled and was nearly there when a massive wave came and smashed the whole family into the sea. The boy watched them scream for help as they were crushed by the massive waves.