Story #49
Two of Wands
He’d been little more than a babe when the bombs destroyed the world, when everything and everyone he knew became nothing more than faint memories. The soldier who’d pulled him out of a pile of rubble had raised him, and nicknamed him The General. Throughout his life, the attributes he’d displayed as a traumatized toddler, a certain aloofness, the ability to very quickly critically analyze a person or situation, and the desire for orderliness and control, had served him well.
The group of military misfits that he and his adoptive father joined settled in what used to be eastern Texas. After the bombs, it was just another patch of dirt. Under the ground, though, lay a safe haven from the harsh world that the surface had become. An extensive tunnel system that connected old, buried bunkers and a series of caves became home to a flourishing community over the years. There were families, tradesmen, schools, systems of society kept in order by a loose sort of governing. Eventually, it was The General who stood at the helm of the influential burg.
Though they were led by a council, The General had been their unofficial leader for quite some time. He was consulted in most matters. He’d understood early the value of becoming indispensable. After the destruction of the surface, and the water that was on it, weather patterns altered, and drinking water had become the most coveted resource on Earth. Most people in their network shared filtering technologies, but when he and his friend, not more than ten years old, had stumbled across an underground spring, pure, unaffected by the devastation above, he knew they’d found something special.
