Four seprate stories, four different lives in the wake of the perfect storm. The choices we make are building the new face of humanity. Each day we struggle to survive. No more news, no Hollywood and no political finger pointing. Now the lights are out, water stopped running, this is Our World
There are times when I wonder if the war is still going on. We are loners. It’s the only way to live. twice we have moved into more populated area. They expect shit ya know. you have to bring in a skill set or an offering. We just bring two mouths to feed. Then there are the rules of each community. Dont get me wrong I get it but…lets just say outsiders are frowned upon. I just want a place I can call home. Feel at home and build on that for my boy. I could imagine the early years of my son’s life to be like this
It was the oil that made us vulnerable. It always was the oil and I find myself wondering if that was always the plan. We were like addicts wandering around the globe. Moving in on places we know we didn’t belong in search of that next fix. Its funny too, when Iraqi Freedom went down there were groups of people who would cry bloody murder ‘this war is about oil!!’ then go and fill their tanks on the way to work. The age of blame is over. We all fucked up. How can we come down on a government that was simply providing the way of life we have all come to expect as Americans. Tell me how you would react if the President appeared on television with news that in less than a decade America would not have oil to sustain the life we had become accustomed to.
Sometimes I feel like its better this way. Now we can move forward. Before we were simply delaying the inevitable
So I feel that this is something to record. It is how the structure of society has changed in our world since the collapse. You see everyone has a value in this new world. It is not based on where you live or what you wear, not on the music you listen to or the people you associate with. We were lost in the importance of those things before the bombs. Before the lights turned out for good and we learned to worship the moon again your worth was determined by pop culture. Now, it’s very different. Skills, it’s all about skills. Those long-haired, dusty iron workers and coal miners or the crazy hippie guy who grew mushrooms at his house and never wore deodorant, kings in our world. Skills to survive comprise your worth.
Military and scientists are among the most valuable. If you had an army ranger and a biologist well, lets just say you would have one hell of a fantasy team. The world runs on skills now. Purification of water, gardening and most importantly the ability to turn trash and rubble into buildings and structure. It is quite an eye-opening situation.
So where does that leave me. Out of college I got lucky. Landed a good job out here and was making it. Finally. Then it all changed. My skill set disappeared in the wind like sawdust in a fire. I literally watched my college education, all my investment in post education and my career fizzle out with the rest of the lights. Now I am just surviving. Struggling day-to-day and learning. I have no skills therefore I am worthless to a community.
This thing must be ineffective. I have seen them run it over my shelter a few times. No ears perked up no smile and nod. It appears my efforts have proven effective. We are just too deep for that method. Still, there is a problem. They aren’t leaving. After all that effort and failure they aren’t leaving. Its bugging me. Days have gone by and I know we did not leave much food topside. Unless they brought their own.
They came in by foot. So surviving off what they can carry and not restocking would be a losing game for them. The only reason you would remain in a situation like this is if you were expecting some sort of payoff. These are strange times. I am not even 100% sure on what is going on up there now. How bad things really are. We have food and water but by now I have to believe, especially without the electricity, things are getting very tough. Even if the bombs killed hundreds of thousands there are still so many mouths to feed.
One of my children is coughing. A thick moist cough. Something that I am worried about. We do not have antibiotics. I have enough cough medicine to outlast the cough itself but if this gets worse. I may have to go topside. These thugs up there will not make that easy.
I woke up late last night to someone banging on my door. It was the guy from the fight, my opponent. So I jumped back and drew my hands up. He just fell to his knees and said, ” No, man I just watched you leave with all that food…I’m starving.” He was shaking and weak. Fighting takes a lot out of you especially a loss. I am sure that win was his only way to get food. To me he looked more dehydrated than anything else.
I helped him up and brought him into my ‘home’ these days I use that word loosely. He was faint so I gave him some water and sugar mix. Fed him till he was full. It’s the least I could do. He told me about the fights. 2 years into it, this man had the scars to show. No gloves in this league. ‘You will bleed,’ he told me. I understood what I was getting myself into and smiled as I ate a spoon of rice.
I thanked him on his way out the door. Before he could thank me. The fighter threw me a confused look. It had been a while since I had company, good company. Ages since I could just sit around and bullshit with another guy. It was a breath of fresh air. Then I dreamt of a beautiful woman. Hair as long as time, big brown eyes and voice that dripped like honey down my spine. It had been sometime since I was in the company of a lady as well.