Don't Count The Dead Wind

Chapter 1

His ear was startled when the sound of sirens sounded off. The reds had done it. They finally attacked. His teacher began to sob uncontrollably and the other children gathered around one another and held each other with loud cries and muffled tears. There was a long silence.

If the bomb hit then they would be engulfed by an immense heat greater than the surface of the sun and their bodies would no longer exist. The only remembrance of them would be shadow burnt into the ground and conformed to be praying to a false god or perhaps no god at all. For a brief but fleeting moment the boy wondered what it would be like to have his inside boil until his body oozed. He didn't think about it too much before he had decided that he'd rather not know.

For a second there was absolute silence save the fast and rhythmic breaths of those fearing death. Not even the birds did move. The entire countryside lay in wait and did not squirm in their reckoning for some time until a voice buzzed in over the radio and told that it was only a false alarm. Some dog had gotten into the base.

His father told him later that night that it would have never happened if they just elected Nixon instead of pretty-boy who's in over his head. Who could argue? Just about everyone. But his father regarded them as nigger-loving communist and nothing more.

(Author's Note: I know this chapter is really short, but I'm writing off the top of my head. Chapter two will be longer. Hopefully.)