Child of War

By T.C. Hansing

The war waged until the bombs fell. All that was left of society in the aftermath: a few hundred people. They had been alone and isolated for years – dealing with the loss of everything they hold dear - in a world of desolation and despair. But when a group goes into the nearest city on a routine supply run, they find something that gives them hope for a better future; a strange radio signal coming from hundreds of miles away. It is safe there….  There is no danger of starvation, thirst, the elements or radiation. Alex is sixteen years old and is one of a select few who are chosen to make the journey of their lives. Will they be successful in their quest? When things start to turn ominous along the way, it becomes apparent to Alex that he has become the embodiment of a war-torn youth - a child of desperation, still clinging to the past and dreading what the future might bring.... 

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.C. Hansing
• Release date: Aug 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393123132

T.C. Hansing

T.C. Hansing is an American author of dystopian and fantasy themed novellas . His books are published worldwide and are available to download on platforms such as Apple iBooks, Rakuten Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and Baker & Taylor. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Last Day

WE ALL LAID IN SILENCE, pretending to be asleep. Not because we did not want to talk but because we knew discussion would only bring up sore subjects. What was there to discuss anyway? How hungry and cold we all were or how much we missed mom? No, I would rather kill myself right here on the spot than discuss any of those things. It hurt me enough inside already, having to wake up every morning and make it through the day without her.  

The nights were no better. Even now, three years after her death, my dad was sleeping with his arms crossed over his face - silent tears running down his cheeks. Somehow, seeing my father upset every night made dealing with it even harder.  

I tried to distance myself from my dad and younger brother, Ethan, as much as possible. This was difficult considering we lived in a house with only three tiny rooms (a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen). That was all there was to our lives. When we were tired, I purposefully volunteered to lay on the floor and allowed Ethan and my father to share the tiny, torn up mattress we managed to salvage from the smoldering remains of the life we used to live. I would then take my place on the other side of the room facing the wall away from them. During the day, I spent hours locked in the bathroom; telling others I was washing up, while in truth I was curled up in the bathtub trying to shut the world out. I had a feeling they knew I was lying because they never questioned this dumb excuse and our bathroom had no running water. Unless I was cleaning myself with the rust lining the walls, I wasn't washing up.  

I turned over in my blankets to see if Ethan was awake. To my surprise, he wasn't. Maybe it was the fact that the only light source in the room came from a small flickering candle, but I couldn't help but notice the similarities in appearance between us. We both had brown wavy hair, deep green eyes and a tall skinny stature. Other people have brought up these comments before, but I always ignored them. Perhaps they weren’t making fun of me after all. I flipped back over and threw the blanket over my head. Tomorrow was Day Last, the beginning of winter.  

The first day of the new season brought with it the necessity for survivors to travel back into the city for supplies. When I awoke the next morning, it was no surprise to have my dad thrust several large sacks into my hands and push me out the door, into the unwelcoming cobble streets of the Alman district. The district, along the outer edges of Variability city, was once known as a place for the poor to seek refuge. Its tiny houses were cluttered together in lines along the streets, its roads dirty and its general atmosphere one of abandon. I walked along the streets until I came to the market square in the center of town. The market square was really a giant circle of open space, with various shops and merchants lining the outer edges. It is the largest open space in all the Alman District and is where the town meetings are held.  

People stood around a raised podium, where the district president was about to speak. He was standing in the background behind the podium, looking over his long nose at the notes. I never really liked him much. He reminded me of an overgrown lizard with his scrunched-up neck, dark black eyes, and balding head. I've never talked to him personally, but I naturally assumed by his demeanor that he let his position of power go to his head. He approached the podium in his nicest suit and begins to speak to his audience of slaves (as I call them). Of course, I was among them.  

Every single day we live to suffer, we're one day closer to achieving the future we desperately desire. And many of us have suffered greatly, He took a long pause as if in remembrance of his own loss. It was probably just for show though; I doubt he cared for anyone but himself. But now, we must honor the privilege of living in pain by doing whatever is necessary to stay alive. Today, as many of you know, is Day Last and our final chance to make it back into the city for supplies until spring. Doing so is a danger, but a necessary danger. Not doing so means certain doom for us all. President Talard took one last glance at the crowd and then finished his short speech with the closing statement he used at the end of all his speeches. Remember the future; the past has yet to reveal itself.  

And with that, the audience of people began moving to the outer edges of the town like a pack of depressed wolves. Many carried sacks just like mine, others hauled plastic containers or wheeled along barrels. I could see the repulsive looks in their eyes. Their faces were pointed at the ground, their bodies stiff and awkwardly walking. I forgot for a moment that none of these people (myself included) wanted to journey back into the fiery depths of hell. But we all continued to move forward, as our minds drifted backwards in time.  

It wasn't until the group in front of me stopped on the hillside leading up to the city that I looked