Fallout

Day 1, March 12

The screams of innocent souls ring in my brain. The dust has yet to settle and the war has just begun. Grey concrete stained red beneath me. An hour after the blast and the shrieks have not subsided. My arms are weak, but I drag myself across the room. Towards my mom. Like me, she's sprawled out on the floor. When it happened the windows of the shop burst. Hot air blasted us backwards and off of our feet. We hit the ground. Hard. I heard her groan out in pain, but there was little I could do to help her. A moment after my head hit the floor I blacked out.

...

"Hey mom," I shout from upstairs, "Do you know where my boots are, I'm headed to the shop down the road". With no response I begin to walk down the stairs to see if she heard me. "Mom?" I look around the room. No response. Then I hear the TV and head towards the noise. The room is dark with only the flashing light of the television to illuminate the area. Mom always had to have the curtains closed. Something about glare and not wanting to have to wear sunglasses in the house.

"Shush baby there's something happening," She stated while trying to tear her eyes away from the screen to actually look at me. Without hesitation I strolled over to the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and shut off the TV. She glared at me, "What did I just say? Did you not hear me?"

"Mom, I need you to calm down. Every week with you there's something new, it's not as if the world is ending," I crossed the room and grabbed hold of the velvet curtains. When they were open I cracked the window. Taking a deep breath I gazed into the alleyway. I've lived here my whole life. Even simple things like the cracks in the pavement feel like home. An idea lights up in my head and I turn to face my mother with a smirk, "Hey mom..." She looked at me with fear in her eyes. Every time I had an idea involving her she shut it down immediately. But this time it wouldn't do any harm. Her mouth opened, but before any words could come out I interrupted, "Listen I know what you're gonna say. Just hear me out, okay. You haven't left the house in way too long, just please come with me to the store".

Her mouth hung open, "I've told you a million times! I'm busy writing my novel!" She was a writer. Her last book sold out instantly, the one great work of Marlene Taylor. That was five years ago. Those who used to follow her work have even forgotten about her.

"Mom come on, you've been working on that novel for years. Leaving the house may give you inspiration," I tilted my head at her and her look softened. Then she raised from the couch and walked by me to grab her shawl. I saw the toes of my boots behind the couch and went to grab them.

As we walked down the block others started to run by us. My eyes trailed the herds of people heading in all different directions. It was weird but I tried to ignore it because if I panicked my mom would surely go off the rails. When we got to the store front some woman ran into me. She didn't even look back. My mom opened the door and called me into the store. The shelves had been raided, the walls stripped of anything and everything of value. No one was at the cash register. I looked over to my mom and I could tell her fear was boiling over in her brain, "What have you done?" I stared back at her in confusion, "Months I haven't been outside, and now you drag me out and this happens!"

"Neither of us know whats happening. I can't believe you could ever try to blame this on--". The TV behind the counter sounded. An emergency broadcast lit up the room. The news casters were crying. Between sobs they managed to get out the words, "There are missiles hurdling towards the most populated cities in the United States. I can't believe-". The shot cut out. My mom looked to me with tears in her eyes and we heard it. The impact.

...

The blood ran down the cuts of glass embedded in her face. Her wild, curly hair stained and her pink coke bottle glasses cracked. I pulled them off her face and raked her hair out of the way. My tears dripped down onto her cheeks diluting the blood that already sat there. She blinked her eyes open and it felt like my lungs were decompressed and I could finally breathe again. She stared up at me and said calmly, "Shannon," this is when I knew she was gone. She never called me by my first name. She continued, "Please, please listen to me. We're gonna be okay. You have to let me go," Tears formed in her eyes and then they shut. With a final breath she let out the words, "I love you,". My body fell numb. I slumped over and laid my head on her chest. I fell asleep as I felt the warmth leave her body.

Day 3, March 15

"Hey, hey!" A voice called to me and someone shoved me awake. I stared up at this stranger and was taken aback. They wore a gas mask over their face and a long black coat. It was cold. The air felt heavy, like I couldn't breathe. My vision started to black out again. Another person in a mask stood above me. As my consciousness faded, the first stranger wrapped a mask around my head. The second picked me up and carried me out.

Day 5, March 17

I woke up in a concrete room. The door was air tight and I was alone. I was laid on a cot with an IV in my arm. Panicked, my eyes darted around the room. My breaths shortened and my heart beat quickened. Then the door opened. A tall man walked in. He too was wearing a long black coat. He carried a metal chair in the room trailing behind him. In a gravelly voice he spoke, "So, what's your name?" I stared back in shock. I shuffled away to the other side of the bed and he chuckled. He continued, "I said. What's your name? You've got one haven't you."

Names. Something so impersonal. Everyone around me knows my name. But this man, whoever he may be, doesn't. I squeaked, "Sha-" I thought of my mom. How much she meant to me, "Marlene. My name is Marlene".

He dragged the chair up close next to the cot and sat down, "Ok Marlene. Any interest in learning who we are?"

"We?"

"We are whats left of this country. We had friends in high places that knew of the missile strikes beforehand. So we prepared. This organization is a protest. It's an uprising. The bastards in power planned these attacks. The government officials. They sent the missiles,"

"What? Why would they do that?"

"To start a war. To get the remaining Americans to fight against other countries. And we need to stop that because if that happens the whole world will go to shit. Essentially chaos will ensue. So. You in?"

I recognized his eyes. They were light blue, almost grey. He was the one to shake me awake and put the mask over my face. I inquired, "You were there. At the convenient store. What's your name? Tell me your name and I'll say yes,"

He stood up from his chair and turned to walk away. Before he shut the door he said without looking back, "Sloan," the door locked behind him.

Day 15, March 27

I had finally gotten into the routine of the renegades, the revolutionaries. They gave me my own mask and my own long black coat. There were hundreds of them. Mostly people that the originals had picked up off the street, like me. We were all on board. Everyone of us had lost something in the blast. Even before the missiles we resented our government.

It had been explained to me that if we overthrew the government, preventing more nuclear war, the radioactive fallout would subside in a few years. We planned to set out next week. To march into the capital and burn it to the ground. In order to avoid the fallout the higher ups planned the impact points accordingly. They hit ten big cities across the country. The poisoned air wouldn't reach them. We would wear our masks still. To prove our points. To remind the people of this country that even though many of our great cities remained intact, too many were killed. Too much bloodshed. The people deserve to know who did this to us.

Day 22, April 3

The trucks bounced along the cracked roads. We drove for hours that day. I looked to Sloan for comfort. He was my only friend. We had become close. Neither of us were ever too good at making friends, neither of us had family. Eventually, we just defaulted to each other. He just stared in to my eyes. We didn't need to speak. Simply with his eyes he could tell me to be brave to be stronger than our oppressors. We both got lost in the gaze.

"Thirty minutes everyone!" The driver shouted to us from the front seat. My heart began to beat rapidly, courtesy of the nerves. It felt like all my organs were tied in a knot, but Sloan walked over to me and sat by my side. As he wrapped his arm around me he spoke, "I know. I want you to understand that we can do this. And even if we can't what else do we have to lose," We both laughed at that. Soon that laughter turned to despair and as I laid my head on his shoulder we both stared at the floor. We had no idea what was coming next.