Draft two of my 2014 NaNo.

The loudspeaker strained on with a loud crack, echoing throughout the emptiness of a bleak gray city. It was overcast outside and dangerous winds whirled through the streets. Rubble tumbled around and the sound haunted the city. Buildings moaned and groaned under the force of the wind, threatening to collapse any moment.

There was not a living soul.

The loudspeaker groaned and crackled for a moment as if straining against the hard blowing wind.

“Citizens of Duria,” It announced in a fuzzy tone, “We are proud to announce that the Plutonium Time Machine has arrived back without a single glitch!”

A loudspeaker was violently ripped off a building, as if the storm had understood what it said. It rattled against the ground as the wind kicked it along until it slammed into a garbage can and wedged itself in a small crack.

There were no cheers as expected. No one exited their home. No one made a sound. No one in the last city on this world thought that they would survive this storm. So what if the time machine came back? They would all be dead soon anyways.

Hurricane Andromea had brought destruction throughout the entire world. It was larger than any hurricane ever to be recorded. In fact, hurricane seemed to be much of an understatement for this huge storm that destroyed everything in it’s wake. It form over the Atlantic, wiping out Africa first and proceeded to destroy Europe. Asia was next and then poor Australia was gone. It had missed Hawaii just barely, but a tsunami from the aftershock of the storm wiped out the islands. By the time the storm had reached the Americas, it had become significantly weaker. It consumed all of South America and rushed over North America, missing one patch of land around the area of New York City.

These people had gotten lucky. Terribly lucky.

To survive the storms, almost half of the population in New York moved underground, believing that they would be safe there. The world beneath became extremely sophisticated with buildings, houses and what not. They were given most of the supplies. After all, they were assumed to be the only hope of mankind. Many people would gaze at these selected half with envy and hate. They would survive, but only because they were special and selected.

Soon enough though, Mother Nature had finally relented and the wind died down. Clouds began drawing back and rays of sunlight suddenly decorated the streets for the first time in 3 years.

People poked their heads out of their homes and soon enough, cheers rang throughout the streets as they realized the truth. They had survived the storm. They were alive.

Thank you Plutonium.

Thank you time machine.

Good-bye underground society.

The End

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