A father's plight

They always thought they were the lucky ones... after the blast nothing normal was left, everything they ever knew was destroyed or mutated to creatures of nightmares. Terry was never really the fittest or strongest father but his parental drive to save his little dark haired girl from abomination turned him superhuman. Sprinting barefoot across the tarmac carrying his scared little girl while being chased but bellowing sirens warning them of the incoming disaster.

His pulse quickens, his shirt drenched in sweat, his muscles tightening before he jolts upright " Lily!" He screams. Still dazed he realizes he is in not reliving a dream. " 38 days... the same nightmare for 38 days, that must be some record somewhere." He mocks himself. He gets up from the steel framed bed the military installed into the nuclear fallout shelter. Terry goes to splash water on his face and stares at the hollow reflection facing him in the mirror. "Just look at you... you look like a tired old man from a Stephen King novel." He mutters.

The bunker is dark, there are no windows to see the outside world, only noises. Terry walks to the dining area where he passes crude drawings of better times. He stops at a drawing of three yellow stick figures holding hands in front of a two windowed house signed by Lily. He stretches his hand out to one of the figures, the wall is cold.

Is Lily going to be joining us for breakfast a elderly voice asks. "No, uh she is still sick and its better if we don't bother her... last thing we want is for the flu to spread through the bunker." Terry explains. "Oh alright, send her my love then and I hope they feel better soon." The elderly woman said. Terry looks down at the bowl of gruel that is before him, he has lost his appetite.

"I heard the vault door opening last night... do you know what it was?" Marshall asked Terry, Marshall was a ex-cop and a doomsday prepper who forced the government to build the fallout shelter because "The commies are gonna nuke us anyway now". Terry looks at Marshall before uttering, "an old woman died last night... someone disposed of the body outside, better to dispose of it than to have it rot in here." Marshall looked perplexed..."That is the 15th one this month!these old hags are dropping like fucking flies around here! Those military bastards probably didn't even put a proper air filtration system in this poor excuse of a shelter!" An enraged Marshall exclaimed as he walked on his search of the air filtration system.

The bunker is dark. Terry's breathing is the only thing that drowns out his heartbeat. The concrete floor is cold beneath his feet. Everyone is asleep except for Terry. He hears scratching coming from one of the rooms. Growls echo down the halls. Tears run down Terry's cheek as the hair on the back of his neck raise. The bunker goes quiet.

Tick... tick... tick... tick... Terry feels like the dining area clock is judging him... creeping up on him... "Eighteen!" Yells Marshall as he slams his hand on the table startling Terry. "Eighteen what?" Terry asks. "There are eighteen of us left in this shitbox. The old people have all pretty much kicked it and now there are few of us left, fuck knows what they died of but I do hope to God I dont get it!" Marshall explains. "Get what?" Terry enquires "This mutated flu or whatever the fuck is killing all these old people!" Marshall yelled. "Oh" Terry said tearing up. "Oh fuck, I'm so sorry Terry I forgot about Eva, and now Lily is also sick! Jesus im such an asshole I should kick my own ass." Marshall apologized. Terry said nothing, he just sat there staring into the bowl of gruel. "How is Lily doing?" Marshall asked. "Good days and bad days..." Terry replied, "It's important for all of us here that Lily gets better." Marshall says trying his best to be as consoling as he can be. "What do you mean for us all?" Terry asks. "Well, uh, we don't want everyone to catch her virus you know before we know it all of us will be dead." Marshall said in a self-centered tone. Terry said nothing. Terry was too preoccupied with his thoughts about Lily becoming healthy again. Lily was such an innocent and loving child. Terry thinks back to the time where they had to hold a burial for a moth she found in the house.

"But daddy Gandalf the moth didn't deserve to die" Lily muttered through a flood of tears. Terry did his best to console a crying Lily. Terry told his wife Eva to not throw Gandalf the moth away. "But Terry, she only found it yesterday and by tomorrow she would have forgotten it." Eva said. Terry took Gandalf the moth who was rather rigid by now and put it in his breast pocket. "Don't worry I will handle it." He assured his wife before kissing her on the cheek. Terry went to his workshop in the garage and and cast Gandalf the moth into a resin globe where he could position him in such a way to recreate the classic 'you shall not pass!' scene from the lord of the rings movie. It took Terry hours to mount Gandalf the moth with his staff and a little paper wizard hat on a little bridge.

"Gandalf!" Lily exclaimed holding the now legendary moth. "Thank you daddy." Lily said while hugging him. "My pleasure Lilybug!" Terry replied contented.

The bunker is dark and Terry is out of breath. The clinical cold of the bunker crawls over him. The echoing growling has stopped. "D-daddy?" An innocent voice called out into the darkness..."I'm not sick anymore daddy." Terry's heart drops. He opens the door to see his dark haired little girl sitting on her bed drawing yellow stick figures on the walls with Marshalls bloody remains scattered across the room floor... "Thank you daddy" the little dark haired girl said while playing with a moth figurine.