Road To Survival Novels & Stories

Mikael laid a map in the middle then he wrote a circle. "This is where we are going tomorrow, and as you can see it's a large place so we have to split up to finish the job faster, knowing our capabilities, I think that we can finish the subjugation up to its roots the day after tomorrow so it should be fine" Mikael explained and then draw another circle in the center. "But this right here is the problem. They are attacking the center area of the place, so it'll be hard to subjugate the roots while protecting the walls" he said, then Damaria placed her cup down on the center of the map.

¶Aiyla PoV¶ ¶But One Of The Big Lessons I have Learned From My Journey Is You Can't Please Everyone, So Don't Try¶ - CHRIs COLfER 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Sometimes in life painful things can teach us lessons that we didn't think we needed to know. same thing happened to me, the painful things, the trauma and abuses I went throughout my life made me strong.. made me a fighter and survivor too! It made me realise the harsh reality of life! Life is not filled with beautiful flowers...it is also filled with thorns and it is upon us how we walk through that thorny path. "Either you give up...which is too cowardice"... "Or you could stand up and fight for what's right for you". After all

Someone finally couldn't handle the sight anymore and stumbled aside to throw up, while another broke into panicked, helpless sobs. My hands trembled slightly, and my face was deathly pale. I was one of the calmer ones, but there was no denying that I was just a high school student. It all started yesterday, during our class trip. The bus plunged over a cliff, and we woke up to find ourselves here. A system appeared before us. It told us we were dead and that clearing this game, The Tyrant's Atonement, was our only way back. It was a game where we could choose our roles.

"Gideon!!! Try to swerve and dodge as best as you can!!!! Once we got off the main road, go for the uphill roads that lead to the hill and valley areas of this city." . "Don't you think that that's dangerous, Sir?!" The driver said the words while stuttering. . "The uphill tracks... The uphill roads... Shall decrease the speed and momentum of this car... Hopefully. Come on we got to try our best and pray for the rest of the outcome..." . I could never get how Harrison could come up with some great ideas on survival, even at dire and life threatening times like this. I could only be quiet and stare at the road ahead of us. I was praying inside my heart.

He said, "Everyone is stuck here. If I were to clear a path just for you, others would call it a misuse of power. Daphne, are you just trying to get me in trouble?" My mother was so anxious that she began sweating profusely. She yelled, "This is a matter of life and death! Is this how you police officers do your job?" Half an hour ago, I returned to the day my father collapsed. Still stuck in traffic, I did not ask my husband, Jonathan Reed, who was conducting the traffic, for help. Instead, I forced my way through the stream of cars and turned sharply into a side road with fewer vehicles. I did not even have the time to step on the gas pedal when Francis appeared, blocking my car.

On the day of the departure they all dressed up, well prepared and ready for whatever they were going to face for the sake of survival. Or were they? "Fucking bastard. You said we won't meet any of this killer trees if we follow the 'yellow road.'" Ten cursed loudly. Refiling his gun with ammunition he fired aimlessly behind him. Yellow road on Ten's term. (The 'safe' path Salvador had marked out.) "Well don't blame me." Salvador breathed heavily. Multitasking between talking and running from a hoard of vines that carved for his flesh. "It isn't my fault that the area around the underground base is surrounded by a coal mine."

Because right now it feels like my own wolf put me in time-out. June stays quiet. Not defensive. Just steady. The trees thin enough a little later that I finally catch sight of something unnatural through the branches. A straight line. Too straight to be forest. "Road," I breathe. Aiden follows my gaze. "Maybe." Hope is dangerous out here. We don't celebrate yet. We just keep moving. Because wilderness doesn't care if you survive. The road turns out to be little more than a narrow strip of gravel cutting through endless trees. Not paved.

“How did you know?” “Because I know my sister.” I sat down and pulled the platter of bread toward me. “Downstream takes you toward the railroad and the river towns. More people. More eyes. More chances of being recognized. But upstream takes you toward the deserted ancient road.” I tore off a piece of bread. “Lonely road. Fewer merchants. Fewer travelers.” I looked at Zane. “Maya would always choose the hard option.” “The kidnapper would choose the hard way,” Zane said mildly. “And your sister would go whatever way she was instructed.”

“Then he tried to escape that shit by flipping the story. And now he wants protection. I’m not really that forgiving a guy.” Grace sighed. “You’re really starting to think like them.” I glanced at her. “Maybe that’s the only way to survive people like Renee and Zelda.” She didn’t say anything after that. We drove on. “Which road are you taking?” Grace asked finally. “I know these roads. I grew up around here. I’ll take the busy road. It’s longer, but it’s safe. Too many eyes. No one can shoot up a car there without witnesses.” Grace nodded. “Smart.”

"If we stay on this main road, it's about fifteen minutes. But there's a service road that cuts through—rougher terrain, but it would get us there in half the time." "Take the service road," I said immediately. "Ramon, in this snow—" "Take the fucking service road, Rafael. Please." My brother met my eyes in the rearview mirror, then nodded. "Service road it is." He took the turn so fast the SUV skidded slightly, tires fighting for purchase on the snow-covered dirt. Behind us, I could see Marcus and Rodriguez following, their headlights bouncing crazily as they hit the rough terrain. The service road was barely a road at all—more like a path someone had driven enough times to create tire trac