⊱ ✾   Prologue   ✾ ⊰

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   A ray of sunlight entered through the slightly ajar shutter, directly into Nadine's eyes. Tired and sleepy, she covered her face with her left hand; the plastic of her prosthesis was cold. With her other hand she gripped the old blue bunk bed to sit up. A small bump on the head with the same familiar wood finally woke her up.
   Sitting on the bed, feet on the warm floor, eyes closed, she allowed herself to enjoy the sun.

   Without opening her eyes she walked to the window, gently pushing the shutter's boards. Slowly, the sun's rays illuminated the room. Nadine wasn't very tall, with simple beauty, blue eyes as dark as her mother's, and brown hair like her father's, worn shoulder-length. Her skin full of freckles, was white, but always slightly bronzed. Every morning since she could remember at the foot of her window, she took a deep breath for a few minutes, letting the sun fill her body with energy.

   She gradually opened her eyelids. Outside, a gentle breeze moved the treetops, and birds sang a sweet melody. She put on her flowery wool coat and walked to the kitchen in search of her family. The light came through the window, causing the already clean breakfast dishes to shine like new. Outside, a melodious laughter could be heard... her mother's unmistakable laughter.

   She strolled through her humble home, around the wooden table to the door. She pulled it open, letting the sun paint her face once again. There they were, visible in the distance, working in the field, with a backdrop of green scenery behind them, just like every morning. Nadine used to work with them since she could remember, but the previous night she had stayed up late reviewing information about the universities she had set her eyes on. None of them close enough to visit every weekend, but if she truly wanted to succeed as an architect she had to strive for and aim at the most prestigious universities in Europe, even if it meant certain sacrifices on her part.
   Separating from her family presented a great challenge for her; they were very close. However, she knew perfectly well that it was the only way to give them a better life and pay off all the debts once and for all. They deserved it, they had always given everything for her and her siblings to have the best future they could imagine.

   Her mother, Maureen, looked up from the crops, her black hair tied in a low ponytail. She observed Nadine with a wide smile, waving her hand in greeting. Nadine began walking through the ready-to-harvest wheat towards them, but each step seemed to take her further away. She started running in fits towards her family, but it was futile.

   Her desperation caused one foot to entangle with the other, and she fell to the ground so suddenly that she couldn't protect her face. Dirty from the fall, with a cut lip, she knelt down searching for her family.

   They were no longer there.

   Everything was gray, all the crops had withered. The sun was gone, and the birds no longer sang. Threatening dark clouds covered the sky. Much time had passed since her family had set foot on that land.

   Burgundy, France. February 2036.

   A deafening thunder woke her from her heavy sleep. She sat up, frightened, hitting her head on the bunk bed where she and her younger sister, Joalí, used to sleep. Unlike her dream, there were no rays of light, shining dishes, or the warmth of her family waiting for her.

   She placed her feet on the cold stone floor, approached the window, and closed one eye to look through the shutter's boards: it was raining. Since everything had started the sun hadn't appeared. Pale, she walked slowly through the dark and humid house, towards the kitchen. All the shutters were sealed with a large number of large nails, probably placed by her parents before they decided that it was best to flee.

   She liked to think they had fled, that they were fine, and that no Drowned had harmed them. That's what she had heard them called when she was still in college, before returning home to search for her family.

   When it all started, she had left home to study two years ago, living in the dormitory, and with six hours of train travel and piles of study, she barely saw them. The first thing that was said was about a wave of suicides in the remotest villages in Europe; the despair came from financial insecurity, debt, and the constant pressure to work more and more for a low salary. Countries with low resources or in crisis had suffered the same fate for months, but it was barely mentioned in the news.
   Nadine knew exactly what they were talking about: since the big companies had employed the use of agrochemicals, her mother's business had gone downhill.

   Weeks later, people had already forgotten about all those workers who had taken their lives. It was only talked about again when a new headline flooded the news: multiple victims in different villages had suffered serious injuries in an attempt to be killed, some were not so lucky and died from the inflicted damage. Testimonies said that when they managed to escape, their attackers had started hurting themselves to death. People told stories of how they banged their heads against a fence repeatedly until they pierced their skulls from side to side, or described with horror how, with broken glass, they hysterically cut their own bodies until they bled out completely.

   Each story was more gruesome than the last, each one filled with rage, fear, as well as sadness.

   She pushed those thoughts aside, all they did was make her more nervous. In the kitchen, she searched for the tea cup she had saved from the day before. Since her return to her old home, she had been preparing provisions in a bag, along with clothes from her other sister, as the clothes she had brought were not enough. She and her sister Triana shared the same height, even though Triana was two years younger.
   While drinking her infusion, she surveyed the dirty, messy, and damp room. Only a little light entered between the boards, and it wasn't much because the day outside was still as cloudy. Observing the sofa where they used to sit snugly on Saturday nights to watch movies, she remembered each member of her family: her parents, her two sisters, and her brother Irving. Being the oldest had always meant a great responsibility for her, her family represented her entire world.
   Fear took hold of her bones at the thought that they might be in danger.

   Crying silently, she grabbed her bag full of provisions, the backpack full of clothes; she put on her mother's rain boots, took her father Destan's cut shotgun, and stored the scarce ammunition in her pocket, which was really scarce. She hoped to use it without any problems, she had been born with her left arm developed only up to the elbow, and since she was a child, she had managed but she didn't know if the little mobility she had in her left arm would be a problem. 

   She knew perfectly well how to shoot, even enjoyed great aim, but a gun that had to be taken with both hands represented a great disadvantage for her.

   Before leaving, she checked the house once again for her father's rifle; they had probably taken it to protect themselves, which gave her a little peace of mind, but it didn't hurt to make sure it wasn't somewhere among all the clutter. Her father came from a family of old hunters who had already left that custom behind, but the weapons still passed down through generations as family relics. Who would have thought that years later they would be used again, thought Nadine.

   She wiped away the tears and puffed out her chest in a sign of courage. She opened the door forcefully, closed it behind her. She held the weapon that would serve as her defense with determination, with her eyes fixed in the distance on the abandoned town of Burgundy.

   She began her journey, leaving behind, unknowingly forever, her lifelong home.

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