Thick dark clouds covered what was left of the perfect night. There hadnâ€™t been a clear day in Washington sense before it happened. It. Thatâ€™s all people ever really called it anymore. It had been a simply war, whatâ€™s the worst that could have happened, right? Wrong.<br/>Maxwell lifted his body up from where he had been casually lounging in the grass. Any rest you could get these days was a gift from the Gods. He sighed softly to himself, standing up on two feet and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He scanned the horizon that lie to the west of him, nothing but debris and carcasses. The army hadnâ€™t even bothered to clean the streets, much less burn the bodies. He groaned softly, looking away from the west and instead turned his gaze towards his small tent. Tents were hard to come by, but he had one none the less.  He couldnâ€™t help but chuckle softly to himself, in the good old days, a small tent in the woods would upset him, not make him this happy.<br/>A bit of liquid fell from the sky, hitting Maxwell on his nose, then dripping off quickly. His first reaction was hope, maybe it was raining, but hope slowly turned to dread as he looked up to the sky. There lying in the tree above him, was yet another lifeless body. His body tensed up as he quickly stepped back away from the tree. He grabbed his small tent, wrapped it up in his bag, and took off running west as fast as he can. He hoped to find just one more person alive. Maybe even more.