The city was coated in the darkness of the night.

Heavy clouds blocking the light of the moon.

She could see old buildings of the city down below from the nook she sat in.

The window was old, glass cracked, frame worn.

She felt the cold air on her breath.

The temperature wasn't very warm, she could especially tell from the amount of people silently shivering in the Barracks she found herself in.

Alma began to play with a long tuft of her own murky brown hair, although it was usually tied back so as to not distract her, she missed a spot that seemed to sit in front of her face.

Just a little off to the right.

Staring up at the moon, she wondered about the day, what it would bring.

As well as all the work she had to get done.

The thought itself tired her out to no end.

But if she wanted to leave this city, she had to do the best she could.

She laid her head to rest, eager if a little hesitant to get ready for the next day.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sunlight peeked through the window, shining a beam at a crack in the glass, causing it to reflect directly into her eyes.

"Agh! God-"

The light caused her to jolt awake as she fell out of the makeshift bed she set up in the nook.

Slightly dazed, she looked around the room. 

While called barracks, they didn't really have any actual beds.

Each of the workers was given a plastic futon and some bedding.

A loud banging was heard on the other end of the room.

"Rise and shine, you slugs!" The man was burly, sporting large defined arms and an even larger gut.

He wore wire frame glasses, one lens solid black. Sporting a ratty beanie and fairly noticeable salt and pepper stubble.

The loud banging hit the walls as he began to slam to large pans together.

She was already awake by the time the "alarm" sounded.

Though it didn't mean she wasn't affected by the sound, her hands held tight against her ears.

The others surrounding her slowly and groggily began it rise, almost zombie-like in their movements.

Everyone was put into a single file line, oldest in the back, youngest in the front.

Alma was somewhere in the middle.

"Listen up!" He had his arms at his sides as he spoke.

"We have a lot of work to get done."

As the line progressed he handed each of them a list.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

although as he got to her, he stopped, placing a tight hand on her shoulder he got in her face.

"And you, don't mess this up."

She had only been here for a month now, but she wasn't quite used to everything.

Misplaced labels, dropped cargo, not remembering the layout of the building.

Didn't quite help that the building itself was one foot in the grave.

Rotting wood, cracked walls, all of it.

But this was the only job she was able to get, there were no smaller jobs, no coffee shops, no grocery stores.

Everything was slowly being pieced together and so the focus was more on repair, supplies and other more important areas of productivity.

At least that's how it was thought in Alpha.

Alpha in comparison to the other guard cities was like comparing night and day.

Many of the other buildings were just as poorly maintained as the warehouse Alma found herself in.

Held together with worn scrap metal. 

She could see the outside from the large decrepit windows coming down from the Barracks.

Tall machines with spindly limbs and large cube like frames wandered the streets, followed by men in Jeeps, donning suits of white and gray.

The Machines - Trolls as they were dubbed by the populace for their destructive force, had begun to move behind the building as the workers piled in.

Alma had to squeeze through the amount of people just to see what was going on.

The large rolling gates at the end had been raised, and several of those white suits had walked in.

Pure white with gray under the arms, long fabric that stopped just above the ankle, sort of like a cape or cloak.

On the Jeeps, the letters ASDC were printed.

The burly man with the glasses introduced himself as Colby, he began to to speak with one of the men.

"Now." he turned to face the group.

"We have received the honor of restocking the supplies of the very people who protect us from the dangers of the mutants who live outside our walls."

"if you turn to your lists you will be able to see all of what needs to be handled."

The paper itself had a rather long checklist, from boxes of Batteries to food and other necessities.

In comparison to the nights, the day this time around was sweltering.

She watched as the workers were getting ready.

"Uh, hey."

A voice could be heard from behind her.

"You must be... Alma, right?"

"That's correct, and you are?"

She turned to look at the originator of the voice.

He was around her age, tall and slim with a pale complexion.

His hair was black, loose curls sat messily on his head.

Dark eyes with even darker bags underneath, looked like he hadn't slept in years.

"Ander Nelson, I was told that you could use some help."

"Damn Colby" she thought. "You must really think I'm useless huh."

"Well, The help is appreciated" she held out her hand.

Dust was caked on the sleeve of the sweater he was wearing, most likely from doing some work previously.

It seemed to multiply on the bulky work pants he wore, they sort of dragged across the ground.

He reached out his hand in reply.

"So, where should we start?"

From then on was a lot of hard work and heavy lifting, many of the crates were quite hefty, and she had some time getting them to the large doors on her own. Ander on the other hand, despite his stature, was carrying them with ease.

Alma, quite hesitantly, was quite thankful for the help.

Time seemed to have passed and soon it was just them.

"Finally" Alma sighed as she and Ander put the last case of supplies into the massive carrying module, placed on the back of the Troll's frame.

A small giggle escaped Ander's lips, "That was a big haul huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that again."

"So" Ander spoke in a sort of curious tone.

"Yeah?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't seem to have the strength for this sort of job."

"What made you want to work here of all places? I mean this Isn't the safest lookin place."

She hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what to say.

"Gee, I uh... forgot something!" 

Using that Utterly Perfect diversion, or at least what she though was such, she ran off in the other direction.

"Uh... yeah, I guess I'll see you later." He called out awkwardly, right after however, his expression changed, becoming a bit more serious.

She began to slow her speed, taking time to catch her breath.

She had no reason to tell him why she stayed, but out of the month that she was here, she had no one else to confide in.

He was literally the only one she had talked to in that whole time, even if the moment was pushed onto her in the way that it was.

Maybe if she got to know him better.

Suddenly, the large rolling shutter doors slammed open with a rattle.

"What?"

She turned around, hiding behind one of the massive metal shelves filled with boxes.

A group of people came in, she couldn't quite see their faces.

The lights in the warehouse are dimmed around this time.

There was one silhouette that was quite familiar, from the glint of the light from his glasses to his burly exterior.

Colby? What was he doing letting people in at this hour?

She knew she shouldn't be poking her nose into this, but she couldn't help it.

She felt it on the back of her neck, something wasn't right.

She crept closer toward them, making sure to stay out of sight.