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Broken Dawn (Aisling and Other Stories)

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Broken Dawn began as a joint project with multiple authors (should those authors wish to convert their stories to blogs, I will link them here).

It takes place approximately 20 to 30 years after a nuclear holocaust. While the catastrophe was world wide, most of the stories take place in the continental United States, after the fall. The main stories are centered around the region of what was once Colorado, Utah and Wyoming; an area that was rendered a hostile desert by the fall out, but for some smaller towns and cities nestled in the relative protection of the Rocky Mountains. People everywhere struggle to survive, and often the stronger prey on the weaker. "Strays" roam the wastes, lost nomads trying to find safety and shelter. Some have gathered together and attempted to settle down, scratching a meager existence from the land (either through attempts at farming, or from scavenging ruins and burnt out towns); these types of groups have become known as Families. Others have banded together to form Crews; marauding bandits who prey on both Strays and Families alike, stealing what they value and throwing away the rest; all the while making war on eachother, vying for dominance.

In one place, alone, the rules are different: Trade Town. Neither Strays, Family, nor Crew, the people who run it have built a one-stop-shopping neutral territory, welcoming trade from anyone and everyone. Almost anything can be found in Trade Town, for the right price.

My first forray into the world of Broken Dawn was with a few short, stand-alone stories, offering some insight into what became of the world after it fell. Later, you'll meet Aisling (ash-LEEN), a loner who is not quite a Stray but too small to be a Family, who finds herself at odds with one of the most feared Crews in the region.

Welcome to Broken Dawn, as I see it.

  1. Flight

    Aisling had to move. Derrik would be coming.

    She doubted he would be there this day, but knew he would waste little time. He would want to move fast, knowing she'd try to run.

    She scooped up her weapons, sheathing the knife, and headed for the entrance to her cave. When she got inside, she cast the AK and the .45 on to her cot and stripped off her clothes. She was a mess of drying blood and vomit. She looked at her feet with disgust. Her mother would never approve. Hell, she didn't approve.

    She made for the small stream near the back of the cave. The stream was part of an underground water source that eventually exited the mountains and supplied what was once a small river; one that was now barely
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