'Children of Earth - The Apocalypse' is an original work of fiction. Please do not plagarise
this work or anyone's work for that matter for you own safety, pride and credibility.

Please enjoy this work!


Children of Earth
Cycle One
-The Apocalypse-

Memory Data #1.11 - The Charm of the Waste. Masquerade.

Only twenty of Hardy's men survived the battle, and half were wounded severly. Robinson's men
laid about the dunes dead and bloating in the hot sun. Perdue had gathered the men, ordering
them to retrieve anything that could be of use and that the band was to head back to Jaspa that

Sasha sat with her back to it all, watching the sun begin to set. She would not look upon Hardy's
body as it laid wrapped in the back of a supply truck. He was to be taken back to Jaspa and
given a funeral along with the other good men that had died that day. She could not bare the
thought of Jaspa knowing that Hardy's good will had been a failure on the depths of the Waste.

"Miss?" a voice said behind her, she glanced back to see Perdue standing behind her, his feet
sinking in the sand.

"Yeah?" she answered quietly.

Perdue moved to stand beside her as she sat still in the sand.

"The captain wanted you to pilot the good tank back to Jaspa, will that be a problem?" he asked

Sasha nodded, she had agreed to do it and she would.

"I would just like to say that the Cap..."

"Please, Perdue, don't..." Sasha groaned as she came to her feet.

Perdue shook his head. "We leave in a half hour. Try to keep up..."

"Sure..." Sasha said distantly as she watched the sun disappear beneath the horizon.

Perdue turned and rejoined the men who were almost ready to pull out. Sasha followed in the
distance, walking slowly to where Robinson's body laid, covered from the sun. She edged closer,
a sick smell rising from the body. She pulled the cover back quickly. Robinson's face was red
with blood. Sasha nearly gagged as she bent down pulling her knives out of the corpse and wiped
them on Robinson's clothes. She stood, looking down on his body and tears welled up in her eyes.
She growled and spat upon the dead face. Sasha almost expected Robinson to wake and wipe the
spittle from his face, but he was dead and could never return... Just like so many of the others.

Sasha replaced the cover on Robinson's body and moved to the tank. It was white, not the largest
she had ever seen, but large enough. The red Alliance crest was on the front, below the cannon
and Sasha did not want to look at it...

Once inside the tank, she quickly reviewed the controls. She had been trained to run a tank in
the Alliance Academy, all the children had. Soon she was ending up a small caravan. All the
while she tried not to think about the supply truck a few carriers ahead and the body it carried.
Darkness soon fell and Sasha turned on her lights, falling behind the rest, and then catching up
again. She had figured that she would have just enough fuel to make it back to Jaspa. The
thought of Jaspa made tears well up again. What would she do in Jaspa since Hardy was not there
with her?

By dawn she had lost sight of the caravan, they had sped on before her. Sasha kept on, topping
one dune after another. She wasn't sure which direction she was traveling, but she followed the
tracks in the sand. After a while she realized, the wind erased her only trail. Groaning in
disgust, Sasha stopped the tank and opened the hatch, looking across the Waste seeing nothing,
hearing nothing. Panic gripped Sasha suddenly and she cried out. She fell back in the tank and
started it again, picking up speed as she tried to travel in a straight line.

Hours passed and the sun had traveled half the sky. Then on the slope of a dune, the tank

"C'mon baby..." she muttered, pushing the tank forward only a few more feet to the crest of the
dune. The tank quit, fuel gone.

Sasha did not bother to try and start it. She let her chin rest on her chest; no more tears
could relieve her. Slowly she felt the tank slide down the dune and she roused herself. She
looked around the cabin of the tank. There was water, and a satchel of food. She grabbed the
two small jugs of water and the satchel, climbed out of the tank and onto the slope of dune.
She turned to watch the tank slide to the bottom. Sasha smirked, her luck had been running out
and she knew it. Now she was to walk. She knew no one would come after her, she figured she
was lost.

Growling to herself, she climbed to the ridge, looking about for any sign of life. All she could
see were dunes that seemed to stretch forever in every direction. No mountains, no vehicles,
only the stinging wind and the harsh sun. Sasha began walking, keeping her head low to see, the
sun beating down on her small frame.

Sand filled her boots and her hair, weighing her down. She stopped several times to pull the
collar up on her jacket and adjust the weight of the jugs in her hands. By sunset she figured
she was walking northeast and she wasn't sure if that were correct. Finally she stopped,
dropping her jugs, opening one and almost drinking the whole thing.

"Whoa," she said removing the jug from her lips, "I can't do that... I'll die out here if I drink
all the water..." she muttered to herself.

She removed her jacket, shaking the sand out, then her boots doing the same. Night was falling
and the cold was soon upon her. She kept walking though, trying to keep warm. Sasha talked to
herself to stay awake, she hummed old tunes her mother used to sing to her, she recited as many
poems as she could remember, but the weariness took her and she stopped again. She was too tired
to continue, so she wrapped her jacket around her and slept, laying her head on the satchel.
Dawn came again and still Sasha slept. Not until the heat of the sun warmed her did she wake.
She was covered in sand, but her water was still at her sides. She opened the half-emptied jug
and finished it off. Angrily she threw the jug behind her and cried again.

"Damn you, Ben..." she moaned, rising to her feet again. Soon she was off again, walking slowly,
her feet slipping in the sand. By midday she only had half a jug left and wrappers of food were
in a trail behind her. She felt no stronger, but kept on walking in a daze.

Sasha began dreaming on her feet. She dreamt of her mother's death and her father's abduction.
She dreamt of Jaspa and of Hardy. She could cry no more, her head dry, her emotions becoming
memories. She tried singing again, a song that her mother had loved.

"We tried to talk it over... But the words got in the way... we're caught in... this... masquerade..."
she sang breathlessly, sipping a little from her last jug.

The light played over the sand as clouds passed overhead. It seemed to her that the sand was on
fire for one moment, dancing before her eyes, then it laid dead again as a cloud passed before
the sun. She was muttering to herself, unintelligibly, rapidly as the water disappeared. Sasha
still carried the empty jug as she stumbled across a dune ridge. Only an hour passed before she
fell to her knees. She dropped the empty jug and shrugged off the empty satchel. She moaned,
tasting only sand. Rocking back in forth she cried out.

"I'm not going to die... I'm not going to die," she muttered over and over as she slid down to
the sand, lying on her stomach. Soon she felt her body floating up above the sand. Then all
went dark.


This is the last chapter of the first cycle.. the cycles will continue. look for Children of Earth:
Cycle Two - Children of Earth... that doesn't make sense, i'm going to have to retitle that..