Apocalyptic Camaraderie

           Who would have thought, that it would take the end of days to find your best friend? Well, that is exactly what happened to me.

***

           It all began just a few months ago. The world was filled with destruction and unrest. All of the World powers were in a battle to show that they were the supreme leader. It was ridiculous and terrifying at the same time. Many of the smaller countries had already been wiped out through disease and military battles, while the larger countries held their fingers on the button, ready to launch a nuclear strike against whoever refused to stand down.

           That is exactly what came to be one day. Our trigger-happy leader lost his patience and fired nuclear missiles into enemy territory, and not surprisingly, the other world leaders followed suit firing their own nuclear attacks. Air raid sirens began to blow all over the place. Some people ran for the protection of their bomb shelters, some held on tight to their loved ones awaiting the impending doom, and others gathered in places of worship praying for their gods to protect them.

           Rioters began looting stores and causing countless amounts of damage to homes and businesses. Windows were smashed, cars were set ablaze, and people were trampled in the streets by massive crowds of bodies flowing through the town like a wall of lava, destroying everything in their path.

           It took just a few hours for the first missile to reach our country. The closest one to our town was about 20 miles away, so the destruction of property wasn’t as severe, though there was a lot of nuclear fallout to deal with.

           Luckily, as the missile approached, I was pulled off of the street by a stranger. He was a tall man, balding, with thin white hair forming a u-shape on the top of his head. He hurried me into his shelter. He introduced himself as Freddy. Also in the bunker, were his wife, Anna, and their children, Luke and Julie. Julie was about 8-years-old, and Luke was around 16-years-old, like me. Freddy showed me around their bomb shelter. It was buried 15-feet underground with 2-foot-thick walls of concrete and rebar. They had shelves lining the whole length of two walls. The shelves were filled with canned foods, peanut butter, rice, cases of bottled water, and other foods that would last for a long time without going bad. The bunker was powered by a gas-powered generator. It was stored in a separate room in the back with a separate ventilation system for the exhaust fumes. There was a composting toilet as well so they could dispose of the waste easier. I felt lucky to be in such an equipped place.

           I went over to Luke after the tour and introduced myself. “My name is William,” I said. Luke showed me his collection of comic books that he had brought down to the shelter with him. There were a variety of Marvel and D.C. comics along with some I had never heard of before. I could tell from the start that Luke and I were going to be great friends. From that moment on, we were inseparable…except when we needed to use the toilet, of course.

           The bunker provided us with silence and protection from the horrors that were a mere 15-feet above us. The only way we could know what was happening in the outside world was through a camera that Freddy had installed on the eavestrough of his house. It gave us a view of the bunker entrance as well as the front yard and a partial view of the street. He didn’t run the camera all of the time though; he tried to reserve as much power as possible, plus he didn’t want to strike fear into everyone.

           Anna watched over her children diligently, especially Luke. He had asthma and this confined area made it difficult for him to breathe at times. The air that they breathed in, was recirculated air and not fresh air…not that there was any fresh air to breathe outside anyway. Every once in a while, Luke would have an attack and Anna, with her training as a nurse, would help him through it. I was warned not to get him too excited or stressed out.

           We would spend most of our days, or were they nights? It was so hard to tell. Anyway, we spent most of our time playing games and reading, but then we decided to put our talents to the test. Luke was an excellent cartoonist, and I was pretty good at writing, so we combined our efforts and created a series of comic books. It was an action series that we based on our situation. We called it “Apocalyptic Camaraderie”; a story about two would-be heroes that survive a nuclear holocaust and travel around the barren wastelands searching for others in need of help. Luke’s parents would be our critics, but we knew that they would say they liked it even if they hadn’t. Freddy would act as if he was frightened while reading the suspenseful parts. I missed my parents and wasn’t sure if they were alive or not, but I was happy to have Freddy and Anna there when I needed them.

           One day, Anna was playing dolls with Julie and I was busy writing dialogue for our next comic when we heard a large thump coming from the entrance to the shelter. Freddy turned on the security camera and outside the door of the bunker was a large dog, perhaps a Rottweiler. The dog had collapsed against the door, whether from lack of food or nuclear waste. Its fur seemed blotchy with patches of hair missing. As much as I would have loved to go out and save the dog, we all knew it was impossible without risking our safety. Freddy turned off the camera so we wouldn’t have to see the dog suffer.

***

           One quiet evening when we all sat without speaking, listening to CDs on the portable stereo, Luke began to gasp and wheeze. Anna tried to help him, but she had limited resources. Luke needed more Ventolin and his supply had run out. Freddy said that he was going to take a chance and make a run to the pharmacy to see if he could find any. I volunteered to go with him. Against the protest of Anna, we covered our faces with old gas masks that Freddy had picked up from an army surplus store and got ready to leave. Freddy pulled across a wall of Plexiglas and sealed the edges with duct tape at the foot of the stairway heading outside. He told me that he had modified the masks to fit more modern filters and converted it into a full hood instead of having the back open. Freddy unlocked the heavy, steel door and we made our way outside.

           The dog which had collapsed against the door was now nothing but a hollow carcass. It looked as if other animals had eaten away at it. I felt so bad for the poor pooch. We hurried along the street, two blocks to the pharmacy, watching over our shoulders for any signs of life. We knew that if anyone survived, they would be desperate enough now to do just about anything. We made it to the pharmacy with no incident and climbed in through the broken window.

           Most of the shelves had been emptied by looters, but I began gathering up whatever supplies I could find while Freddy searched for the Ventolin. He came across two more puffers and a bin filled with Ventolin pills. We packed everything into the backpack that I was carrying and left the store. We were a block away when a pack of wild dogs spotted us and started growling and barking. It wasn’t long before they began to take chase. We picked up our pace and as we neared the bunker, I saw Freddy fumbling with his keys trying to find the correct one for the bunker door. Finally, he found it and opened the door. We made it back inside, and as the door began to shut, one dog managed to poke its snout through the crack. Freddy pushed the dog back and got the door closed, but not before the dog nipped at his finger, tearing the flesh away from his knuckle.

           Anna waited by the Plexiglas and witnessed the bite. She told me to cut away the duct tape immediately so she could help. Freddy insisted that she just worry about Luke for now and deal with the bite later. I cut away the tape as asked and removed the wall, then I dug the Ventolin out of the backpack and handed it to Anna. Luke was in rough shape at this point. I had just hoped we weren’t too late. Luke took a couple of puffs of the Ventolin, and within fifteen minutes, he felt better.

           Anna tended to Freddy’s finger. It appeared as if the infection had not yet set in, but they had no antibiotics. Instead, Freddy pulled out a bottle of Jamaican Rum that he had stashed away and poured it over the open wound. Anna then wrapped it tightly with some gauze and bandages.

***

           It has been three months now since the end of days. We still haven’t seen any people on the monitors, and the pack of wild dogs hasn’t been seen in days. Our supplies are beginning to run low again, so I am going back out to see if I can find some food. Freddy supplied me with a machete just in case I need to defend myself. I am a little nervous going alone this time, but the infection in Freddy’s finger had made his hand useless, so he was forced to amputate the hand to prevent the infection from spreading even more. With Anna’s assistance, he was able to cauterize the open wound with a hot frying pan and bandage it back up.

           As I carefully wander the streets of the town, I can’t recognize anything anymore. There has been so much destruction. It has become desolate. No people to be seen; only scattered bones and bits of hair littering the roadways. Could it be that we are the last of the survivors? Traveling from home-to-home, I pack everything that may become useful into my backpack. A few cupboards still contain canned pasta, beans, and canned fruit. I walk past my high school and it looks as if it had been abandoned years ago. Never could I have imagined such a thing happening in my lifetime.

           It’s getting late and I’m sure Freddy and Anna are getting worried about me now. I guess I should head back. Just one more stop to make, my house. I need to find out if there is any sign of my parents.

           There it is, at least what is left of it. The door is open, which means that there could be someone there. I can’t hear anything. Okay, I’m going inside. It doesn’t appear that it has been ransacked at least. Let me check out my room. Everything is just as I left it. Okay, I will check for food and head back to the bunker before it gets dark, not that there is much sun these days anyway. Not much food left, but any little bit will help. Time to go.

           “Aagh!”, I scream as I reach the front door. I am startled by a shadowed figure in the doorway. It moves in closer. “Mom?”

           I can’t believe it is her! “Mom, where’s Dad? I kept praying that you were alive.”

           “Your Dad is dead, William. I’m sorry. He was attacked by some wild dogs when he was out looking for you. We hoped that you found a safe place to stay.”

           “I did, Mom. I have been staying with a family in their bomb shelter. You need to come with me, okay?”

           We make our way back to the shelter and I introduce my mother to my new friends. I show her the comic strips that Luke and I had been working on as well and she was truly impressed. Together, we will get through this mess. I have faith. One day, when the sun shines bright again and the air is safe to breathe, we will rejoin the world and hopefully, it will be free from all those who fill it with hatred.

The End.