Chapter Eight-Three

"How are you feeling?" Is his immediate question as the door clicks shut behind him.

It's odd, I never thought he'd be the one to find me, all this time it's always been Vern.

"Where is he?"

He raises a brow, sets a chair close to me and sits, "You mean Vern?"

Shivering, I say nothing. He knows I mean Vern.

He heaves a sigh at my silence and picks up the remote on the table, switching the TV on. Cycling through the channels it's all the same thing over and over again.

Breaking news.

There's a display of destruction, something I'm very familiar with. The street the camera films has cars bent and broken, a large truck upturned and burning, and a large XPD vehicle that's been ripped apart.

The anchor's words fade into nothingness as the photos and videos grip me. There's more and more of it. Shootings, burning buildings and vehicles, civilians scrambling for dear life.