Mother Earth

TW: Gun violence.

Every year temperatures rise across the globe. This year was the year Earth’s Ozone layer gave through. A solar massacre swept our planet. Our immune systems weakened, and disease spread. It started with our crops, then the livestock. This caused a massive shortage in our food supply. The survivors started getting desperate and began to riot, steal, then kill for their food. There is an increasing amount of ultraviolet (UV) radiation poisoning the Earth and everyone on it. It is only a matter of time before Mother Nature takes back what was rightfully hers.

Before the apocalypse began, I was a foster kid. Jumping from house to house until I reconnected with my not-so-little brother, Johnny. I do not think I would have survived this far without him. He always knows how to manage bad situations and talk with difficult people. I, on the other hand, have a different approach to things.

BANG. “Shae, did you really have to shoot the guy?” Johnny asked.

 “Well, if I didn’t he was going to shoot us, so you’re welcome,” I say as I sling my rifle over my shoulder. We spent the next ten minutes arguing on the topic. He tried to convince me he can talk himself out of any situation. However, I do not take risks, especially with family. If anyone points a weapon at either of us, I take the shot and I never miss.

I was able to get a new pistol and ammunition off the dead guy, so now I can make my leg holster. Johnny never carried a firearm, all he had was a long survival knife attached to his belt. He never used it to take other lives.

Johnny and I live in this underground bunker which originated as a storm shelter. It locks from the inside and protects us from the harsh conditions of the outside world. Even though it is small, we manage to give each other enough space to suffice. We have a designated bathroom bucket for only number ones. We must take the bucket outside for number twos. For our sleeping arrangement, we each have a cot stolen from an overrun military base. Between our two rooms, there is a shelf for all our food. We have a room divider made from a few rusted piped and some torn drapes. Since we already spend all our time together, being out of sight keeps each other out of mind. It is the only way we can keep ourselves mostly sane on this dying planet. It is not much, but it is our home. The world turned its’ back on us, now all we have is each other.

Contact with the outside world must be minimal. Whenever we need to make a supply run, we take extra precautions to do so. Today, we are going on a food run and every day it gets increasingly more difficult to find edible food.

“So, I was thinking we could hit up the local gas station again,” Johnny says. He began to dress himself head-to-toe with thick clothing. It is one of the few ways we can protect ourselves from the UV radiation.

“No. We have already gone there, and it is too risky. The local gang likes to hang out there and we would have better luck moving out farther from the city,” I explain.

“We can’t do that! We will be exposed for too long and there isn’t even a guarantee we will find food out there.”

“Johnny, we don’t have a choice anymore. If we want to survive, it is all we have left.” He does not respond to me, instead, he picks up his backpack and heads for the door.

“Don’t forget your face covering,” I remind him. “Listen, I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but you need to trust me. I am not going to let anything happen to us, we will figure this out together,” I say pulling him in for a hug.

The sunlight bounces off the sand causing my vision to go white as my eyes adjust. We walk for miles on the highway until we come across a pile of cars and a line of cement walls. I heard of the military putting up checkpoints to control people coming in and out of the city. Like everything else, it got overran.

“Eyes and ears open,” I tell him as I lead us through the pileup. If I were the enemy, this would be the perfect place for an ambush.

Suddenly, I heard the creak of a rusted car door opening and I nearly tackle my brother to the ground. I draw my pistol and give my brother the signal to be silent. The sound was only a couple of cars away. Whatever it was, it had to be close. I tell him to stay put and I move in. I decide to go around the side closest to the edge of the highway. The way the cars were set up on the road, it appeared as if someone placed them there to funnel their target to a more predictable point of attack. I heard it again, more quietly this time. I use a folding mirror to check my corner and I see it. The car’s driver door is open, and something is moving inside. I move across to the front of the car, making sure to stay low. On the count of three, I will slide up to the door and take my shot. Then, my mind starts to wander off my plan.

One…I forgot to check the area to see if there was more than one enemy.

Two…What if this was a distraction and they are coming from the rear?

Three…What if they got Johnny?

Cans and bottles crash to the ground from the driver's side door. I jump and get my sight picture aligned on my pistol, and a dog comes into view. He has a dark brown coat and big brown eyes. His legs shook and he was malnourished. However, his spirit was still intact. It has been a while since I have seen any animals, especially pets.

“We’re safe, you can move up now,” I yell to Johnny.

I see him stand up and start walking over when he says, “What did you fi-, hey… is that a dog?”

I explain to him what happened, and he insisted we let the dog tag along. After saying no to him for so long, I thought having a companion would be beneficial to him.

Farther down the highway, a green sign reads, “NEXT EXIT, FOOD AND GAS.” Below the words was a logo for a gas station I did not recognize. Either way, it was our only shot at food for the rest of the day. Once we fill our backpacks, we will head home. None of us can afford to spend a night out here.

Johnny is the first to rush into the gas station, the dog following close behind. He knows how much it drives me insane because if someone is in there, he has no way of protecting himself. When I walk in, he is out of sight, but I can hear him digging around in one of the back aisles. The dog jogs up and down every aisle sniffing everything and chewing on whatever smells edible. The pet aisle is the only thing that appears untouched. Even in an apocalypse, people can be meticulous about what they take.

“Johnny, let me see your knife,” I yell across the store. I hear him stomp over, knife in hand. Once he sees what I am attempting to do, he takes over the task. Slice. The bag of dog food spills out over the floor.

“Help me put some of this back in the bag. We have to portion it out to him or else he will eat the whole bag and get sick,” I explain. I prop open the bag, so it sits up by itself, and we take turns scooping handfuls of dog food back into the bag. The dog already scarfed down half of what landed on the floor. I take one of the bowls from the shelf and fill it will a little of my water and he drinks every drop.

“I don’t want him to have to walk all the way back to the bunker. I have an idea,” I say to Johnny. I grab the cart with the least squeaky wheels and roll it back to the pet aisle. I take one of the beds and lay in flat in the cart. I reinforce it with some towels and blankets to prevent sliding.

“See? Now he can lay down on the way back and we can cover the cart with a blanket to protect him,” I say.

Johnny and I finish loading our backpacks and packed the bottom of the cart with bags of dog food. I was able to grab a can of oil to temporarily fix the squeaky wheels of the cart. It is time to move, and we must move fast. As night falls, our enemies rise.

We make our way back up the exit ramp and onto the highway. As we pass the pileup of cars, the cart’s wheels start to squeak again. Rushing to get home, I decide to ignore it and keep moving. Johnny and I have targets on our backs. With each of us having full backpacks and a covered cart, we are a walking gold mine to our enemies.

As we get into the city, I must push harder to get the cart through the sand. Johnny trades off pushing for me to give me a break. With my backpack weighing me down and my feet going numb from the pain, I zone out. Lost in thought and dazed by reality.

Bang. We are taking fire. I crouch down and my brain springs back to life. I search for the source. I cannot tell which direction it came from; I believe there is a sniper in one of the neighboring buildings.

“Johnny, are you okay? We have to get out of here,” I look over at him. Blood crawls through the hole in his jacket.

“Mm…my… my shoulder,” he says. Fear struck his eyes and the panic set it.

“Don’t worry, I can fix this,” I say trying to convince us both. I swing off my jacket and tie off his shoulder.

“Keep pressure on this,” I instruct him. “Get in the cart.”

I roll the cart out of the sniper’s line of sight and into some shade. Uncovering the blanket, I function as Johnny’s injured arm to assist him into the cart. He cradles the dog as they lay side by side, the dog licking him out of sympathy. Throwing the blanket back over, I tell him to keep talking to me. It is the only way I can make sure he stays alive without exposing them both.

I change my route and take the long way home. Going through alleys and side streets that the gangs no longer occupy; I finally make it home. I swing open the double doors to our bunker and throw my backpack inside. Since we have a covered entryway, I pull back the blanket and take the dog out. Johnny leans forward and throws his working arm around me. Using his backpack as a chock block for the cart, I hoist him out. Johnny stumbles as I guide him down the stairs. I quickly run to collect the rest of our belongings from outside and the dog follows. Swinging the double doors closed, I lower the locking bar and seal us all inside.

I reach for my emergency medical kit and grab the tourniquet. With every twist, more tears fall. I cannot lose him; he is all I have left. My eyes burned as I tried to focus through the tears. The world was so cruel, but it was only repaying us for the cruelty humanity showed it for centuries. It was finally time for Mother Nature to take back what was rightfully hers.