A new original story that I came up with while drawing a character. I have another story called Metal Movement but I am having trouble finding out what to do with the next chapter.

This is a hard, desolate place to live. Earth has seen many changes. World War III changed our planet into a desert and destroyed almost all of the water sources. The only water now is that up in the mountains during the winter storms that blow in from the arctic deserts up north, and the government controls it. But that doesn't concern me, that is not my mission. That is the rebellions problem.

Three years ago, I had a family. I had a husband, Sivious, and a daughter, Lira. Both of them were my life. Before we had our daughter, Sivious taught me how to fight better. He taught me martial arts and how to handle a hand gun. I learned quickly, and I was always proud when he said "You're starting to be better than I am." I'll never forget his smile. That smile that made me fall in love with him all over again. And my daughter: my sweet, sweet baby girl. When she was born, she became the center of my entire universe. Her laugh was like a soft wind chime: there one minute and gone the next, but sure to come back. Her beautiful cherry wood brown hair, just like her fathers, and her bright green eyes that had put mine to shame. For five years, we lived together. Happiness was everywhere. But then it was gone.

Sivious had been sneaking out of the house for three months, but that day he came back in a panic. That day, he burst into our little tin metal shack and told us to pack only the things we would need. I had asked repeatedly what was wrong, but he told me that the most important thing then was to abandon our home. He said that he would get as much food and the stashed water as the roadrunners could carry and that he would get Lira ready to go. I went to the back of the house to get as much clothing as possible and to break out the emergency survival gear that was tucked away in a large duffle bag. I heard the front door slam open and then endless gun shots. I ran to the front room, but just as suddenly as the gun shots started, they were gone. Whoever shot those guns were gone. The front room was torn apart and battered by bullets. I couldn't find Sivious, the only thing left of him was his lucky hand gun that he never left home without. Then I found my daughter lying motionless bloodied on the floor. I think I had dried out my tears that day. I buried my daughter near a wishing well that I would always bring her to. I made a promise in the wishing well with my daughters wishing coin. The promise that day is what has kept me going today: "I will find them, and they will pay. Every last one of them."