Hope City Diaries: Wartime RoutineHope City Diaries: Wartime Routine
April 21, 2099
I'm under my tree again. Living at school is becoming routine. We wake up, eat breakfast, and attend classes. We have a quick lunch break followed by more classes, then a few hours of free time, another meal, homework, and lights out.
Nothing too special, if you ignore the fact that we never go home. Also, there is the war. Most of us are used to it by now. After dark is the worst. During the day, the city seems peaceful, almost normal. Everything changes with the sunset. Gunfire echoes through the night and occasionally the sounds of explosions echo the distance. Our principal says it is just the guards along the battle line jumping at strange noises and shooting at shadows of their own imaginations.
She is trying to help us kids stay calm, but I know better. My brother's friend, Deshawn, stopped by the school during breakfast for a quick visit and to bring a message from my brother. He says that the invaders have moved the
Lespoir: Supply TruckScrounger's Ink: Supply Truck
April 20, 2099
A battered truck pulled wearily into the ruins of Old City. The trek from Lespoir had been rough driving, mostly off road. No road or highway connected the cities; there was nothing but faint animal trails, a dry river bed, and miles of rock and uneven, broken earth. Few travelers made the trip, and only those who had need.
The truck stopped by a dammaged B-545 jumbo jet. Deshawn "EarthHawk" Hajari stepped out of the drivers seat. He stretched long, tired arms and legs, then walked to the entrance hatch carved into one side of the fuselage.
"Ngozi? You in there?"
With a sigh, Deshawn opened the hatch and took a quick look around. The inside was clean enough, only slightly cluttered. Papers and random objects lay around in loose piles on the desk, shelves and floor. A gray chinchilla sat near a window, pouncing at dust motes. There was no sign of his friend.
Stepping back outside, DeShawn cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted