14| last breath

8 5 11
                                    

Simon sat frozen in his seat as he watched the helicopters drop bombs in the distance. Smoke curled upwards in grey tendrils and people's screams echoed with the sound of explosions. He was startled by Chris banging at the small window that separated him from the compartment Chris was in.

"Drive!" He shouted.

"If we drive, we die!" Simon yelled back, scrambling to open the door. "We have to run."

Chris jumped out of the truck, glaring up at the sky.

"Let's go!" Simon shouted, extending his hand at where they came from. "Or I can go and you can stay here and die. I don't care."

The only thought in his head was they had to get back to the bunker. They had to get back to their groups. Were they safe? Had they escaped already? Simon hoped they were smart enough to get out of the bunker. Usually, staying underground would be safer in an air strike but he wasn't so sure about the state of that bunker. It had more of a chance of crashing down than it had of standing against the bombs.

The sound of the helicopters came closer as the screams of people became louder. Simon took off in a sprint, not caring whether Chris was following or not. If he wanted to stand there and fight, he could. Simon didn't give a damn about what he did or what became of him. He could die for all he cared.

His first priority was to get to the kids and Kailyn. He had to make sure they were safe. Even if he died today he wanted to know if they were safe or not. He had already watched Novah die once and even though she was alive now, it still haunted him. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he lived but they died.

"Where are you going?!" Chris's voice reached him as he ducked lower to make himself smaller as he ran.

"The bunker," He shouted back without stopping. 

"You can't save them," Chris shouted, speeding up to run beside him.

"They are not dead!" Simon said. "They are not dead until I see it with my own eyes."

Chris huffed. "You can't be so selfless now."

"I'm not being selfless," Simon said, ducking from a flyaway piece of rubble. "I'm looking out for my friends. You should do the same for yours, you know."

"They are not my friends," Chris corrected him. "They are just my group. "You can't have friends in times like this."

Simon didn't bother arguing with him. He saw no use in wasting his breath to correct a stuck-up and self-centred man. He had met people like Chris even before the disaster. They thought they were above everyone and all worldly relationships. Why correct him when the world was going to end anyway?

Another bomb was dropped somewhere closer to this time. Simon could feel the heat as something caught fire, the screams of people filling the air. The helicopters circled above, like birds of prey watching their next target. His muscles burned and he sped up to avoid getting hit, ducking under rubble and running low to stay out of their sight as much as possible. 

"Stop!" Chris shouted.

Simon stumbled to a stop even though he wanted to keep running. But the hint of urgency in Chris's voice set up a small panic in his chest.

"This is the place," Chris muttered, staring at the debris in front of them. The sound bomb still echoed in the background. "It should be here."

"What should be here?" Simon panted, clutching at his knees to try and catch his breath.

"The bunker, idiot!" Chris kicked at the ground. He dropped to his knees and started digging at the rubble with his hands.

"What?" Simon breathed, dropping down next to Chris and lifting the rubble he could.

"Where the hell is the fucking door?!" Chris had a look of utter horror and panic on his face as he dug through the debris with bleeding hands.

Simon's own hands were scratched and split from the concrete and metal. His thoughts were racing as he tried to find the trapdoor that was supposed to be there. Were they inside? Did they get out? Had the bunker collapsed? What if they were still inside it?

He couldn't even recognize the area. Everywhere he looked were broken slabs of concrete, metal beams and shattered glass. If Chris didn't stop he would have kept running. Still, he didn't want to believe that this was the place. He couldn't see any sign of the bunker. He prayed that Chris was wrong and the bunker was in another place, not covered in fallen debris. He prayed that the others were safe, not trapped inside a collapsed bunker. But a small part of him shouted that this was indeed the right place. Chris was right. The bunker had collapsed and the others were trapped inside.

"Oh, thank God." Simon was pulled out by Chris's soft muttering.

He had stopped digging and was now kneeling on the ground, hands on his knees. He looked relieved.

"What?" Simon asked, shifting closer to him. "Did you find something?"

"Look," Chris nodded at something ahead of them. "It's the bunker. The door is open."

Simon sagged in relief as he saw what he nodding at. Rocks had fallen inside the bunker but the door lay beside it, broken and splintered, but very much opened. They had escaped. They had run away when the air strikes started. They were not trapped inside. They were safe.

Simon laughed, relief bubbling in his chest. He leaned forward until his forehead touched the ground, not caring about the dust entering his eyes and nose. "Thank God," He breathed out. "Thank God."

But their relief was short-lived when another explosion shook the ground. Simon felt it in his whole body because he was hunched over, the shakes rattling through his skull and down his spine. The two of them jumped to their feet, stumbling across the ruins in no general direction. 

People ran past them, clutching at bleeding limbs. Simon could feel their fear and panic seeping into his skin, mixing with his own. What did the government want from them? Was their brilliant plan to massacre everyone in the whole country until the subjects were dead along with thousands of others? Was that what this was about?

"Get down!" Someone's voice cut through the panicked frenzy as an explosion shook the ground, throwing everyone off their feet.

A nearby building collapsed, crushing screaming people beneath it. A helicopter circled above, the rotating of its blades barely audible over the sound of people crying.  Some were trying to dig out their loved ones from under the rubble. Some were running away, limping and bleeding. Some were just sitting and emptily staring up at the helicopter above. 

"Get up. Come on. Let's go," Simon stood up, words stumbling over each other, as he pulled at Chris.

He stumbled to his feet without a word. There was blood running down the side of his face. Simon could feel a pain in his thigh, the wetness of blood trailing down his leg. But he didn't dare look at the wound. He knew if he looked at it, he would lose the strength to go forward.

The two of them started limping after the others without a word, stepping around the frozen ones and staring at the sky. They couldn't go very far when another bomb whistled through the air and landed only a few feet away from them.

Simon felt his feet leave the ground. He flew through the air, head hitting something hard. He couldn't feel his right leg as he lay on the ground. The smoke cleared and he caught sight of Chris a few feet away, a side of his body missing. He was clearly dead. Simon could tell from the empty dark eyes staring into his soul.  Of course, you don't live with only half of your body intact.

There were others around him too in various stages of injury. He lay among the dead and the dying, knowing he fit into one of those categories and soon he would be in the other. Darkness was starting to creep into his vision. He couldn't even remember his own name anymore. He couldn't see but he could feel the rough ground under him and the fading sound of the helicopter.

The last thought in his mind as even his hearing went out was, Are the kids safe? 


Total word count 18,265

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