“When are we going?” The little black haired girl asked, almost as if she cared for once. Her mother, as silent as ever, merely looked at her. She wore a pile of clothes and rags, and had a large, wide brimmed hat for shade. Her face was barely visible beneath it, though it was clear her hair was turning grey from stress and age. The daughter was dressed in a dirtied shirt too big for her and boots. The mother grabbed a bag and looked at the girl. Staring at each other for a long while, the mother finally looked away and headed out the door, letting a brilliant, harsh shine inside. The little girl winced away from the light, but her mother offered a hand and an umbrella. The girl quickly jumped into its shade and began walking through the wasteland before them.

After a while it became clear they didn’t intend to go back. Her mother had fashioned a sled earlier and was dragging their belongings across the sand, though they didn’t want to touch them until they’d cooled off. Lead was the best coating, although lead paint had been hard to find, since the society that had collapsed frowned upon the use of lead. The girl looked out into the empty, bleached streets. It surprised her how much they’d used up of this city’s resources. They’d used all the water that was clean, and purifying what was not. They had four gallons with them on the sled, which were probably boiling. Bacterial contamination from their water was not a worry in these conditions. She looked up at the tops of the skyscrapers, wondering if anyone had made camp up there and then got fried. She followed their shade to the ground, searching the shade for possible dangers.

Her mother tapped her on the shoulder, pointing down one of the streets and tugging her a long a little bit quicker. The girl looked down the street, almost at once spotting what her mother had pointed out. She followed quickly, pulling much closer to her mother. She watched the sides of the buildings carefully now, wary of the wide, yellow eyes gazing through the shadows. Her mother pulled out a machete and handed it to her, the large knife becoming a sword in a child’s hand. She herself pulled out a wind up timer and an equally large machete. They stopped, the Mother winding up the timer carefully. The girl looked back, watching one of the ugly, deformed monsters creep up slowly behind them, watching them carefully. She looked back to her mother in a panic. Her mother, as if feeling her daughter’s desperation tossed the timer back. With a clink, all of the yellow eyed beasts charged at it, tearing at each other and the burning sunlight to reach their prey. In the same instant, many of the eyes blinked shut.

“Run!” Her mother whispered, tugging the sled much faster now through the sand. One of the monsters heard them and let out a horrid, croaking shriek. Everything was after them now, charging out of the shadows, clawing at each other to see who would get the luxury of fresh meat. The little girl winced with each swing of her machete, feeling it catch occasionally on her enemies. The mother did the same, praying desperately the timer was set for a short enough time. After ten feet of fighting through the sand, the timer went off. Each monster turned their head and scrambled towards it, going through the same motions of violence as before. The shrieks intensified, as every creature in the area was now fully aware that there was prey, and they were all headed for the timer. Mother and daughter weaved their way through the horde, occasionally her mother shrieking like one of them to throw them off a bit until they got further away. Finally they were far enough away to begin travelling normally again. They were going to cross the open, grey glass desert.

In the cities, the shades had been yellow because the buildings had stopped much of the sand from being turned to glass. For some reason or another, they had remained unaffected by the lingering radiation, but were particularly vulnerable to the new, damaging sun. With a much more abrasive atmosphere, people had been forced out of their normal lives. The number of people left on earth numbered at one million, many in the same areas.

“How long do you think it will take to cross?” The little girl asked quietly, wincing as the sand blew across her face. It left a small collection of cuts. Her mother sniffed the air, as if smelling her daughter’s blood.

“Pull up your mask,” She suggested, pulling out a pair of gloves from her pocket. She handed the gloves to her daughter, who had just barely pulled the mask over her face and the goggles down. She put on the gloves quickly, watching the dust swirl up around them. She occasionally felt sharp pricks on her legs and arms, but by the way her mother flinched occasionally, it was clear she wasn’t alone.