It went a little Maze Runner at the beginning

Write about a vacation day – Winter Solstice

Flood

Crimson

858

It was supposed to be winter – very nearly Christmas, in fact – but you couldn't tell that just by looking outside. Everything looked the same year-round now. Barren landscapes, more desert than anything in what was once England had any right to be.

The virus had spread and there were very few people left. Most were insane – or close enough to insanity to be of no help – but she was one of the few who had remained unaffected. No one knew why some people were immune – no one knew why – but she was going to use every ounce of luck that she had in her favour, and hopefully this would work.

It was their last chance.

She held the old Time Turner in one hand, the glass so cracked and dirty that the sand was no longer visible. There was no way of knowing for sure when she'd end up – she wasn't even certain where she'd end up – but she had to try. It was better than nothing.

The weight of it was heavy in her hand – it felt a little too heavy, but she had no way of knowing if that wasn't just paranoia – and her heart beat hard in her chest. Her hands were shaking and her ears were ringing. She turned the Time Turner, allowing the small trickle of hope to encompass her.

After all, the future didn't have to be set in stone.

She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut; the shaking in her hands was worse now. The ground didn't feel right under her feet; bumpy and narrow and unstable in a way that almost made her open her eyes to check that everything was okay.

Almost.

What eventually did make her open her eyes was the very same thing that caused such an ear-splitting scream that she wouldn't have thought herself capable of previously.

The wind rushed at her a split second after the ground just seemed to disappear, aloud crack still ringing through the air.

She landed hard. She lay there struggling to breathe, the world above her spinning in a kaleidoscope of colours.

When she finally managed to focus her eyes she was greeted with the site of branches twisting above her as far as the eye could see. Trees. Lots of them. More than she'd ever seen before; more than would be able to survive in the pathetic excuse for a planet her Earth had become.

In hindsight, she probably should have done this from the ground floor, but at least she was on solid ground now – more or less. It was cold and wet and softer than she was expecting, she couldn't feel her fingers, but the landing hadn't hurt as much as she would have expected.