Inferno

The heat was like the inferno was on Earth. The sun was a ball of light and tortured, and the cold air was non-existent. Even though we lived in bunkers, really deep on the ground, protected from everything, even what was supposed to warm us, the community could still feel the extreme warmth on the environment. The water that we used to wash ourselves was always boiling and the bathrooms were full of gas. The food could just easily become root and stinky, and that was a misfortune for all of us. I had been left with nothing days because the youngsters and hunters needed food. 

I worked on the kitchen aisle, so I knew we used somo fresh food our hunters geted from the outside. They were brave, they would get some special clothes we got from the military and went out, with the wild animals and the floor that was like flames. They would say goodbye with a lovely smile, with no fear on their veins. 

A special guy, no name for him, no need to, told me that the sky was read and orange. That you could just barely see the clouds, and even at night there were no stars and moon up there. He said that the world was a paint, just that this time it had different colors. More chaotic and warm. The sun rays were everywhere you walked, even at night, and being exposed to them with bear skin could give you two degree burns. The trees had no leaves, and there was no grass, so the small amount of animals that were left eated the hunters. 

We had lost a lot. Everyone had lost a lot. Family, friends, lovers and themselves. With the time writing our stories like the only shrank on the colony told us, you would also forget everyone's names on those papers with a pen on your hand, how could you write a name that days later its owner will just vanish with the ashes?

There is no need, that is why I have no name, and the special guy too. 

The food that they get tasted weird. Like a really burning meat, and when they brought some cans with vegetables and slimy fruits, they were mostly intoxicated with radiation. Months ago we stopped eating those, and now we just feed everyone with roast meat. There were lots of complainings, even battles between the survivors but we had a solid rule, the one that kept us safe from bastards who tried to stole and bring chaos to the bunker. 

You do wrong, and you go out. 

A strong voice screamed that on our first night. At the beginning we didn’t understand, going out? But we were people that traveled so hard to get up here, how could they let us out? A week later a man tried to steal more food than usual. Some man grabbed him and kicked him out of the bunker, we heard loud screamings and asking of mercy because it was a morning and the sunlight was furious. They never got him back and we never heard of him again. 

The rules were clear, no eating more than a piece of meat and two potatoes. Five bottles of water per week, 100 hours of work per week, if you want babies you only have one. No one ever broke the last rule, no one ever had a child. 

We had lived there for 4 months, divided the aisles from security (Gunners), hunter(Runners), cleaning (Perfectionists), supervising (Bosses), kitchen (Cookers), counting (Analizers) and nursing (Helpers). Before all of this apocalypse I was a chef so I got free entry to the kitchen, but a friend of mine got a lot of tests to see where she belonged and at the end, after 4 days lost, she got on cleaning. Everyone hated cleaning people, everyone always said they were too paranoiac. The Gunners were the one that saved us from ourselves, they checked on everyone and observed if someone was breaking the rules. The Runners were the ones that went out, the most risky charge but also the most brave and honorable. Bosses dissect every crime committed and everyone, was like justice and patrons, some annoying brats. Analyzers gotta divide all of our resources, like water, gas and light, very good on math. Helpers took care of us, all made of sweetness and compassion. 

I was lay down on the lower part of my bunk. In some baggy shorts, yellow and broken, a shirt that was probably from a really skinny girl because it was very small for me, and my feet were naked. I was sweating while reading what was for eating tomorrow. 

"I wish we could just turn on the air conditioner" a deep voice mentioned getting me out of my thoughts about cooking.

"I wish we could have an air conditioner," I replied, irritated. The heat was no good friend for me. 

The guy looked at me, with sharp eyes, these painted with the color of honey, yellow and brilliant. His brownish hair, cut so short it almost seemed he was bald. That haircut even gave him a more wild figure. 

"Do you always have to tear away my fantasies?" he asked.

"Do you always have fantasies that are too unrealistic?"

"Just leave my dreaming in peace."

"Your dreaming will not be in peace for too long." the guy gave me a sad smile.

"You do not need to remind me of that."

"Why not?" I asked. The heat increased on the room and my skin got sweatier.

"Because it makes it more real."

"It is real and we could never change that." he walked towards me. He was the one that could handle my pessimist thinking. He was there for me, always. He was the one that held my hand when the ground started shaking. He was the one that hugged me towards his body while I could feel my blood like fire. He was the one that gave me that beautiful smile before my eyes closed and never opened again.

The Earth had colisionate with the sun, being together like two lovers after a long time.  The humans that escaped to the north and hid in the bunkers, like us, never survived that explosion. We didn't survive.