Tomorrow It Rains : Part Two
Tomorrow It Rains : Part Two teens stories
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writersvoice4u
writersvoice4uAuthor, Poet, musician
Autoplay OFF  •  9 months ago
This is part two of an ongoing apocalyptic story, involving a sixteen year old girl and her father, and their struggle to survive in a wasteland.
Please read part One.

Tomorrow It Rains : Part Two

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the Leader said. “I am Diablo, and these fine gentlemen are my family of demons."

They all started to laugh, and the tall, husky clown with the lime-green hair, removed his foot from my father’s face, as I sighed in relief.

“Tie them up,” Diablo said, “and let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

Two of the men grabbed our belongings, and the other two tied us up with rope. Diablo, watched as the stout clown, threw me over his shoulders, as two others grabbed my father from each end.

The clowns lugged us off into the woods, remaining silent as they trekked through rugged terrain. We were told to remain quiet, or they would slit our throats, and not think twice about it.

They trudged for what seemed like miles, stopping at a small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome home, kids,” Diablo said.

The outside of the cabin looked more like a run-down shack, with a German flag tacked up on its side. I silently prayed, as terror set into my bones. I couldn’t possibly see a way out of this.

Diablo slowly opened the door, creaking through the silent air. A foul odor emitted from within, as they shined their flashlights into the room.

“Fire up that lantern,” Diablo said, to the lanky clown with razor teeth.

The room lit up, and other than a couch and some blankets on the floor, it was mostly empty.

“Get them down to the meat chamber,” Diablo said. I was laid out on the floor, as the portly clown pushed aside a rug and opened up a concealed hatch.

I watched in horror, as Diablo yanked my father by his legs and tossed him down the dark hole like a rag-doll.

“Be easy on the bitch, Doughboy,” Diablo said, “I don’t want you to break my toy, before I had a chance to play with it.” So his name is doughboy--it suited him well, I thought.

He carefully carried me down the basement and laid me next to my father, who was grimacing in pain. Doughboy then went back upstairs and closed the hatch, as we stood there in complete darkness.

The odor was originating from within these walls. I felt nauseated from the stench, feeling around blindly until I reached my father’s body.

“Dad, are you okay?”

“I’m sore, but I don’t think I broke anything. Reach into my left pocket, on the side of my pants, and see if there is a matchbook inside.”

“Okay,” I said, as I reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of matches. “Thank God, they are here,” I said, as I let out a sigh of relief.

“Light one, Rabbit, and let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” I struck the match against the matchbook surface, and the small room illuminated. My jaw dropped in disbelief, as my eyes surveyed a room of rotting corpses and bones.

Various body parts hung like chandeliers; skeletal remains littered the floor,and dried blood painted the walls crimson red.

The match burned down, but I was too in shock to realize it before it snuffed out between my fingers. Dad grabbed hold of my hand,

“I’m so sorry, Rabbit. I should’ve never dragged you along.This world is not safe, not anymore.”

“It’s not your fault that there are sick people in the world,” I said, “besides, we are not going to die like this.”

“I saw a stick over there in the corner,” dad said, “light a match, and grab it.” “What for?” I asked.

“I’m going to wrap my sock around it and use it as a torch; Let's see if we can find a way out of here.”

“Okay,” I said, as I lit another match and grabbed the stick to hand to dad. But before I could give it to him, something diverted my attention; chains rattling in the dark corner of the room.

I aimed the light towards the darkness and saw a small girl, covered in grime, silently watching us. Her hands and legs were shackled to the wall, and a small bucket laid next to her feet.

She couldn’t have been more than ten years old and was severely malnourished.

“What’s your name?” I said, but before she could answer, the room went black.

“Hand me that stick, Rabbit.”

I handed dad the stick and a few seconds later, we had light.

“Help me to my feet,” dad said. I grabbed his hand and with all of my strength, I tugged, as he moaned and stood up.

My father was around six feet tall and the room was just slightly under that height, so, my father had to bend his neck sideways to avoid scraping his head.

We walked slowly over to the girl, as she stared as us intently.

“What is your name?” I said.

She looked away from me, as if she was too afraid to speak. “My name is Allison, but my friends call me, Rabbit.” She sat there, watching us nervously and hesitant whether to trust us or not.

“Don’t be scared,” I said, as I leaned in closer, “I won’t hurt you.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a stale Snickers bar.

“Do you want some?” Her eyes widened as I unwrapped the candy, and moved it slowly towards her mouth. She sniffed it, before biting a chunk of it off. “It’s good, right?”

“We have to find a way to break her out these chains,” Dad said. Dad pulled at the chains several times and realized they were loose.

“I think if we both use our body weight against these shackles, then we might have a shot at knocking the screws out of the wall.”

“And then what?” I said. “Even if we do break her free--we are still all trapped down here. These people are obviously more twisted than we imagined ,if they would do this to an innocent child."

“I know,” Dad said, “but let’s just get her free, and then we can figure out what to do, because we’re running out of time here.”

“Okay,” I said,

We grabbed hold of the chains, and pushed ourselves away from the wall with our feet, until we heard cracking.

“Pull harder,” Dad said. My teeth were clenched together, and with all of the strength I could muster, I pulled back on the chains and then suddenly, the chains snapped free from the wall.

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