Apocalypse Landing
The sun was a hazy golden ball, its glare muted by the morning fog. The day’s atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive; news reports from around the world painted a picture of a looming global disaster. The tension between Russia, China and the ‘psycho-political’ establishment had reached boiling point. I strolled through the field, taking in my surroundings, the bright colors of the newly bloomed flowers and the crystal blue sky, and wondering what destruction would follow if war was declared. Would I see mushroom clouds alongside these picturesque scenes? And suddenly, as if I had manifested it in a nightmare of a dream, my feet shook below me, and the earth seemed to shake to its core.
My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickling down my forehead. I headed back home and quickened my pace, feeling the urgency to reach my underground bunker. I had spent years preparing for this moment, storing enough food and water for months. But as I stumbled through the overgrown grass, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it still wouldn’t be enough.
The sound of fighter jets roared above me, and I could see their silhouettes against the sky. I heard the earth shake and felt the ground rumble over and over. What was happening out there? My breathing became shallow and ragged as panic set in; what if I didn’t make it in time? What if this was the end? As I reached the entrance of my bunker, I quickly punched in the code and prayed that it would open. With a hiss, the door slid open, and I stepped inside, pulling it shut behind me. In the dim light, I could see my supplies were not where they were supposed to be.
A strange odor permeated the air—an acrid smell that made my eyes water. As I took a closer look, I gasped in horror. My food and water supplies had been tampered with. The metal lids of my cans had been pried open, and all of the long-term food buckets were no longer there. Panic set in again as I realized that someone had broken into my bunker and stolen my precious supplies—all of them.
My mind raced with the possibilities. I had someone been watching me and waiting for this moment to strike. Had my preparations been insufficient, and someone had easily broken my defenses? Or worse, was it someone I knew, a neighbor or a friend desperate to survive?
I had little choice but to venture out of my bunker for more supplies. If I stayed in the bunker without supplies, how would I survive the fallout of radiation if a nuclear bomb had landed? Did one land? I was unsure; I was in panic mode with no survival food. I grabbed my guns and my belt of magazines. I threw on my old police belt with a flashlight and a stun gun. I put on my bulletproof vest, grabbed my helmet and my gas mask and put as much survival as possible on my body.
The air outside was already thick, and radioactive particles could be high in the sky. Fear and panic were making it difficult to breathe. I donned a gas mask and cautiously stepped out into the world that had become apocalyptic. I had prepared for months for this moment, and someone destroyed my ability to survive. My friends also prepared with long-term food storage and gear, but would they take me in if I had nothing to offer? Would they be selfish and terrified to know I was just another mouth to feed and leave me out to die? I had nothing to barter by myself and my skills. Would that be enough?
My heart pounded with fear, and my mind raced as I went through the ruins of what was once my town. The streets were filled with burnt-out cars, debris and bodies. It was a picture of chaos, a reminder that the world had changed forever.
Were my friends even still alive? Explosions shook the ground, and screams filled the air as missiles rained down in a terrifying cacophony of destruction. It was like a scene from a nightmare, a horror show brought to life before my very eyes. I feared the worst, that my friends were gone forever, lost to the senseless violence of war.
I trudged through the barren landscapes, looking for any sign of life or supplies that may have survived the blast. The landscape was desolate; all I could hear was my boots scraping against the rubble. My gas mask made it difficult to see ahead, but I pushed on, driven by my desperate need for shelter or safety. After a nuclear blast, I only had thirty minutes before the fallout landed on the ground and my body, but I was still unsure if a nuclear explosion had occurred.
A Short Story of Apocolypse
As I moved forward, I came across a crumbling building that seemed to have weathered the storm better than most structures. I carefully approached my senses on high alert for any signs of danger. As I entered the building, I saw it was empty and still relatively intact. The walls were thick enough to protect me from the worst radiation should I need it.
I took off my gas mask and breathed in the stale air of the abandoned shelter. It was dusty and musty but still a far cry better than being out there in the open. I began to look around, searching for valuable items that might aid my survival. If only I had my food storage and my water filter system. How could I have let my guard down knowing this nuclear strike had been looming? Why didn’t I protect my supplies better? I had enough long-term food storage for at least two years.
As I rummaged through the debris of the shelter, trying to find something of use, I noticed a strange sound coming from the corner of the room. My heart was pounding in my chest; I slowly approached the noise. In the corner was a small wooden crate. It was locked, but I could tell that it had been recently opened.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I pried open the chest to discover a stash of canned food and water bottles. There was enough to keep me going for a few weeks at least. Maybe someone else had been here before me and left it behind.
As I looked through the chest’s contents, my mind wandered to the events that had led me here. Could the nuclear war have started so suddenly, catching everyone by surprise? I had always known it was possible, so I had spent years preparing for this moment.
But nothing could have prepared me for the sight of a mushroom cloud that could potentially come and bring about the end of the world as we knew it. I was lucky to have made it to this shelter in time, but I knew many others weren’t as fortunate.
My thoughts were interrupted by another noise coming from outside the shelter. My heart skipped a beat as I pulled my gun out of the holster and went to the entrance. As I peeked out of the tiny window, I saw a group of survivors desperately banging on the door.
Without hesitation, I unlocked the door and let them in. They were dirty and wounded but alive. They told me stories of how they had been caught off guard by the nuclear mushroom cloud they saw very far off in the distance. Far enough away that we all survived, thankfully or would I be better off going up in the burst of flames? No, I have always been a survivor with a strong will to continue, hence being a prepper.
I quickly assessed their injuries and began treating them. As I worked, we talked about our experiences leading up to the war. One of them had been in the military and had seen the signs that war was coming. He tried to warn his superiors but was ignored. The other two had been traveling across the country, visiting national parks and seeing the sights, when they noticed a sudden uptick in military presence and a general sense of unease among the population.
I surveyed our surroundings. We were holed up in an abandoned warehouse on the city’s outskirts, surrounded by rubble and debris from recent bombings. The air was thick with smoke and dust outside, making breathing hard.
I turned to the survivors huddled in the corner of the warehouse and spoke up. “As I listened, I couldn’t help but shake my head. I had seen it coming too, but many others had been blind to the signs. It was a shame, but now wasn’t the time for dwelling on the past. We were in the midst of a warzone, and we needed to focus on survival.”
The group nodded solemnly, and we got to work. I led the way, using my prepper skills and military training to assess our needs and find what we needed to survive. We scoured the surrounding area and found a few abandoned stores with some supplies left. As we brought back our findings to the warehouse, I noticed one of the survivors looking at me with admiration in his eyes. He was a handsome man with dark hair and deep brown eyes that seemed to look right through me. I had gone fifteen years without a relationship and felt a tingle of attraction to this man. We locked eyes briefly, and I quickly looked away, trying to shake the feeling. I couldn’t let myself get distracted in the middle of this apocalypse. But as the days passed, I found myself drawn to him. His name was Alex, and he was a valuable asset to our group. He was skilled in finding functional materials, and his strategic thinking was precise. We worked together on many missions, and I began to develop feelings for him that were hard to ignore.
One night, after a long day of scavenging, we sat outside the warehouse, enjoying the silence that enveloped us. The moon was full, casting its golden glow on our faces. I couldn’t help but steal glances at Alex, noticing how his chiseled jawline caught the light and his muscles bulged underneath his shirt.
“Hey,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just lost in thought, I guess.”
He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. We’re in this together, remember?”
The book will soon follow. Will they survive Apocolypse? Will they fall in love? Or will her cold, beaten and battered heart self-sabotage her from the love that awaits?
