The air was smokey and turbid. On the horizon, the city of ruins crouched like the husk of a dead animal amidst its infinitely smouldering fires.

No-one there was alive. The warnings were driven into their hearts, etched into body and brain by the naked necessity of survival. She looked out over the dessicated sand, vision blurred by the reproachful sun and the dragons of smoke. She saw people, and knew she should look away. Then, as if the simple act of looking there crystallised her intent, she was moving towards it…

In seconds she was at its feet. It was much closer, simpler than she’d thought. No buildings, but piles of refuse, grey with ash and decay. And people, moving but without using their limbs; unanimated but speaking. She was here, had a pulse, could she help?

Flee.

She saw one man move towards her; again her vision drew her in and she knew that she was falling into the end of herself as she woke, throat clogged and limbs tingling with a resigned comprehension.