[ WP ] You leave work and notice a dried up leaf blowing in the wind behind you . You look away and when you turn back there are now five . They do n't look friendly .

“ Just got ta keep my head down and carry on… ” the girl ’ s muffled voice sounded small in the abandoned street. “ Don ’ t look at them Papa said. ” But she looked. There were more leaves now; some were fluttering out from under overturned cars while others were being picked up from piles in the breeze. All of them had thin, razor sharp edges that seemed to catch the light of sunrise. She was almost there, just a few hundred more yards to the tunnel. Her breath began to fog up the inside of her mask. She clutched the bottles in her arms tighter. She felt the wind begin to pick up behind her as the sun drove away the last remnants of sweet, peaceful night. 
 
 The tunnel door, crusted brown with rust, stuttered open unwillingly just enough for a man in a dusty corduroy jacket squeeze out. He had a gas mask on just like the girl but he yelled through it in a muffled voice, “ Joyce, **RUN**! ” Hardly had the man finished his warning when the first leaf flew by, narrowly missing Joyce ’ s shoulder. The wind roared in Joyce ’ s ears as she broke into a lolloping gallop. She hadn ’ t thought about running when she decided to come back with six full bottles of water. The water sloshed awkwardly in her arms, slowing her down. The sound of hundreds of razor sharp leaves grew behind her, crackling and spitting like a flock of angry birds. 
 
 The man in the corduroy jacket reached into his jacket as Joyce approached and threw something over her head. Joyce felt the shockwave and heat from the explosion but didn ’ t look back. The smell of half burnt leaves filled the air, and the wind howled like a pack of wolves. Joyce reached the tunnel entrance and followed the man beckoning her inside. Her jacket caught on the rusted edge of the door as she rushed through, and as she yanked herself free, one of the bottles dropped from the crook of her elbow and rolled into the street. 
 
 “ I lost one! ” Joyce tried to yell but her voice broke on the last word and she went into a fit of coughing. 
 
 “ Leave it! ” The man in the corduroy jacket roared and pushed her aside to begin dragging the rusted door shut again. Joyce landed hard on the ground but was careful not to let any more bottles escape. A new sound joined the groaning door and fluttering leaves—the sound of asphalt, concrete, and steel giving way to wood. The shadow of a massive root blocked out the shrinking sliver of light that still made it around the door. The root slammed into the tunnel entrance, striking a reverberating bass note that shook dust from the ceiling of the tunnel. The rusted door snapped shut from the impact and threw the man on his back. He scrambled up immediately and engaged the crude locking mechanism before standing back and listening. 
 
 The air was still and dark in the tunnel entrance. Dust from the tree ’ s attack floated listlessly around weakly sputtering lamps setup along the concrete walls. The deep bass note that the tree had caused when it slammed into the structure still rang in Joyce ’ s ears. After a time the man turned away from the door with a sigh. He addressed Joyce while helping her up, “ you ’ re a damn fool you know that? You know that scavenging needs to end by dawn. ” 
 
 “ Yes father, I know, but I found a stash of water in one of the houses! Look, 5 bottles! We ’ ll be set for at least a few days with this. ” 
 
 Her father ’ s face softened as he looked into Joyce ’ s eyes and Joyce thought she saw some new wrinkles. “ All of the water in the world wouldn ’ t bring you back if you got hurt out there now would it? ” Suddenly his eyes sharpened again and he touched Joyce ’ s mask. The sudden change and sharpness of the movement caused Joyce to try and pull away, but her father ’ s grip held strong. He tilted her head to the side and muttered a curse. “ Your filter ’ s been sliced. It must ’ ve been one of the leaves. ” Joyce ’ s eyes widened behind her mask. Her father looked more concerned than she had ever seen him. “ Do you think you got any of it in you? ” 
 
 “ No, I— ” Joyce broke off in a fit of coughing. Something felt like it was stuck in her chest. 
 
 “ Clarence needs to see you, come. Lets get moving. ” Joyce ’ s father lifted her up roughly and began to stalk stiffly down the tunnel dragging Joyce behind him as she struggled to catch her breath. 

