Spero: A Post-Apocalyptic Short Story |COMPLETE| ✔

<ONE>

16:35
MAY 15, 2023

Day One

I was at home when it happened.

By home I mean my trailer deep deep in the woods.

By trailer I mean a bathroom, a small bedroom, and then a sad living room.

I was relaxing on my sagging recliner, sipping on some grade-A cola that was on sale at the store, wasting away my crippled 29-year-old self.

I turned on my television to hear screams of panic and to see insane citizens running about like animals.

Reporters were dutifully screaming out their lines over the chaos as stores were looted in the background.

I shook my head, assuming that abc was showing some science fiction novel-turned-movie

I flipped channel through channel until I heard a word between the static, suddenly realizing that these were not blockbuster films:

"Nuclear." Or so they said.

The remote felt limp in my hand as the news anchor rambled on about how a small missile was brought down just before the Chesapeake bay... A nuclear one. A bomb was detonated in Washington, and two more after that, swiftly blowing the Whitehouse out of the water.

The radiation had already killed a fair number of the population in the surrounding states of the Chesapeake, and as the woman spoke, new information of detonations and even another missile blanched across the screen.

I nearly choked on my drink, the horrors that were flirting across the screen much worse than those that I had ever witnessed in combat.

I leapt from my chair, and rooted through my closet until I found it: my gas mask. A white skull was painted on the dark helm.

I had run over into my small bedroom my limp slowing me only a fraction, flicking on the high tech radio I had set up.

Voices fizzed in and out until one finally focused in.

"Citizens, it is mandatory that you remain calm. If you are located in any of the following states or cities, please quickly pack the necessary items, and evacuate to the nearest safe house. Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina..."

The voice named off at least 14 states before rambling on even more about remaining calm.

I ground my teeth together, shaking my head at myself.

I was in one of those states at the time. Just between Ohio and Kentucky.

I exhaled, solutions were flying though my head.

Storm cellar. Metal walls sealed with thick rubber, and chains that locked from the inside.

I had grabbed everything, food, water, gallons and gallons of distilled, gas masks, two of which were in my possession, suits, fresh clothes, maps, books, and quite a bit more.

I practically launched myself from my door with the last items: a foldable cot and my radio.

I moved at the speed of light despite my injury, and made my way into the cellar.

I had exhaled, and gazed out at the golden hazy meadow and y'all green trees sparkling in the mid-day's light.

I had shaken my head, and lowered myself into the dark hole that was to be my home from that moment onward.