I step out into the wind. My hair blows across my face, blocking my vision. I push it away calmly. I look around at the storms destruction, rubbish was swirling around and newly replaced windows had been smashed in, leaving glass all around. This wasn't the first time though. Ever since the invasion, storms pass through, leaving damage. Those of us who survive the attack, take refuge in an abandoned bunker. Well some of us. There are others, who take control, we fight against them.
We are survivors.