"We have some good news," the nurse said softly.

The patient didn't answer. He hadn't spoke since arriving at the hospital. The staff just assumed he was in shock, and they didn't blame him. His house had just been bombed in the Great War. He had lost his wife, who had been pregnant. He could barely walk even with a cane. His whole life was obliterated.

But he wasn't the only one affected by the War. It had raged for fifty-three years now, and it was reaching its peak. Entire cities turned into war zone. Millions upon millions of lives lost. Ever since the Creatures were created, life had become Hell on Earth.

The nurse plowed forward. "There is an area that has not been affected by the War. There was a safe place set up for survivors. It's far from the fighting. How does that sound?"

He shrugged. He couldn't really care less. It wouldn't have been the same as life in his old house, with Becca and possibly a new child. But that was gone.

"I understand if you don't want to go, but we were told it was mandatory," the nurse said. "Anyhow, you're healed enough, so tomorrow, you're going to your new home."

"I don't want a new home," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

The nurse opened her mouth, then shut it. It was pointless arguing with him. He had no more family; they died in the War. It was natural for him-even a twenty six year old man-to want his old life back. Everyone did.

The nurse just went to her usual business, not processing he had spoken for the first time in weeks until she was out of the room.

{Present}

I climb onto the bus, wincing as I go up the stairs and leaning heavily on my crutch. The nurse had told me I had healed enough, but I wasn't too sure.

Or maybe (and more likely) I just didn't want to go.

I ease myself into the nearest seat and put my small bag next to it. It doesn't contain much-just a toothbrush, a couple changes of clothes, and a journal that I had bought in the gift shop. We  were taking two buses, and I'm hoping there was enough room for me to have a seat to myself.

Then a teenager climbs onto the bus, looks around, and sees that I have the only empty seat. She bounces over to me-she seems to just ooze energy-and asks, "Can I sit here?"

I sigh and move my bag to the floor by my feet. "Thanks," she says. I shrug and look out the window. The buses had just begin to pull out.

I had just decided she wouldn't bother me when she pipes up. "What happened to your leg?"

I lift up my pant leg to show her the long scar that ran down it. She winces. "What happened?"

"My house was bombed. It wasn't dead center-it landed on the left side, and it was rather small-but it was enough." I don't speak after that. It'll be too hard to tell her about my wife and the unborn child.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," she whispers, leaning back into her seat. She bites her lip, and I can tell she truly feels that way. We're all affected by the War. We all know loss at this point, even some one as young as her.

"What's your name?" she asks, all the energy gone from her voice.

"Nathaniel."

"I'm Elvira, but most people call me Elf or Elfie," the girl-Elf? Elfie?-says.

"Where'd you get that nickname?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Dunno."

I sigh. "Look, where are your parents?"

"My mom died giving birth to me," she says softly. "My dad joined the Creatures when I was four." Her eyes turn angry. "He could dead right now and I couldn't care less."

She rubes her eyes with her sleeve. I don't know what to do, so I just pat her on the arm. Elf looks at me. "Have you lost anyone close to you?" she asks.

"I lost my wife and my unborn child in the bombing," I say quietly. "My brother was in the militia. You're not the only one who's lost family in the War."

"Are you kidding?" an elderly man says, leaning closer to us. We both look at him, one of Elf's hair-so blonde it was almost white-falling from behind her ear and into her face. She quickly tucks it back. He continues, "The only reason we're here is because we lost a loved one!"

"But we're alive," a woman with bright red hair sitting behind us says. "And we can do everything possible to honor their memories."

"Yeah," I snort. "Like what? I can't freaking walk, a lot of us are injured, some of us are young-" I gestured to Elf-"and we're going to be sent to a safe place. We don't have  a way to honor them! The only way we can is to hope we don't meet the same fate!"

She sits back in her seat. "I didn't say anything about fighting," she says coolly. 

I don't say anything to that. I still feel pretty miserable. I turn back around. It had gotten dark, and rain streaks the windows.

I'm drifting off to sleep when the bus slows to a stop. I lift my head from the window and look out it. We  had just pulled into an old parking lot for a tall, abandoned-looking place. I bend down, wincing, to grab my bag, hissing when it hits my injured leg.

"I can carry that for you," Elf offers as we both stand up, me clutching the seat in front.

"Huh? Oh, no, I've got it," I say, slinging it over my shoulder. She shrugs and slides into the aisle.

Once we were off the bus, we go through a line of soldiers who pats us down, searches our bags, and runs DNA tests to make sure none of us are Creatures. Once we're given the OK, we go inside into a surprisingly plush lobby and are given our assigned rooms. Since I don't have a family, I get a room to myself. We then stomp upstairs (there are no working elevators-they needed the metal for weapons) and into our rooms. My room number is 1304.

Once I reach it, I fall onto the bed, already half-asleep by the time I hit it.