Four separate 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
The fire in the sky. I don’t often like to think about the fire in the sky.
Connor was so young when the sky turned to fire. The only sure thing is that there was a concussion that followed. I have heard it was a bomb, I have heard other theories. I even heard it was God himself. Who the fuck cares. It killed everyone it touched. We were far enough away that I only saw the flames. It was late in the evening, then suddenly it was mid day. A new sun-scorched the earth and all those around it.
Assuming it was a nuclear bomb. I bundled up Connor and we hit the road fast, against the wind. We lived close to D.C. not Arlington close but close enough that whenever they aired the shows on tv about ‘Nuke Disaster in DC’ I would sweat a bit. So immediately I jumped into a survivalist mode and tried to comb everything important out of my scattered brain. Grabbed some water.
The whole ride I watched the glow in my rearview. To hell with the car seat I pulled Connor over my lap and he slept as we moved Northwest on any back road I could think of. A few weeks we would be away, max. I thought we just needed time to clean up any fallout that could have contaminated our area that far out. It would be one hell of a story to tell at Connors 16th birthday.
Now I just hope we can live to see him turn 6. We are getting better at this thing.
Wow, who would have known making PBX would be so easy?! There is nothing easy anymore. But I guess you can’t drink bleach so people don’t bother to buy that stuff up or hold onto it too much. There is nothing white in this world anyway. Not without at least a little rusty dried blood on it. Though the rubbing alcohol was tough to come by. I sure hope this works out. Give those bastards something real hot to enjoy.
So in the kitchen with Sharon. Today we will be cooking up some locally sourced, free range C-4. Now ladies don’t be intimidated by this recipe we all have a little guerilla deep down inside of us. It is important we nurture that in these tough times. We thought we had it good with the men coming into the kitchen to help out. Emeril made it cool to dawn an apron again. Now, if there is a man in your kitchen, leave the kitchen. I have clever ways of making him leave the kitchen but that is for another day.
Oh man I am losing it. I went down to the barter shop on Terrywood, or whats left of it. This area is ‘patrolled’ if you will to prevent ‘crime’. Basically, it’s just not as much a madhouse as everywhere else. Which is fine. Gives a girl a sense of security to have a man with a .308 a couple of stories above her head. Anyhow gave up a beat down pair of toddler shoes for a broken radio controlled airplane. I just want the remote and the sensor. Not building a drone. hahah.
Lets just say I want to be at a safe distance from the action. If this little recipe of mine is a hit!
My baby girl is sick. She is als 10 so I dont know how much of a baby girl she is anymore. I am Daddy and from what I can see so far she will always be my baby girl. Being down here we are in a bit of a germ hole. Of course I have stocked up on cough medicines and most medications. Fever with cough though. I think she may need an antibiotic.
Our friends are still up top. They know something. There is a larger man in a big wool coat that has been carrying the laptop around for two days. He is onto our scent. Still we are too deep to even give him a whiff. The eye in the sky is always watching them. They all sleep at night. Silly. No one watches the perimeter. I have infrared on the camera and I have yet to see anyone watching the area. Thay’s a good sign. Means my neighborhood must be faring well or else they would be on a stronger defense. Unless of course they are just that clueless.
If I have to go up for meds I will go at night. Though leaving them will be so hard. It may have to come to that. These guys look like amateurs. I havent seen them eat in at least a day so I am sure they are getting desperate too. Still baby girl keeps coughing. and I am not even sure where to find antibiotics anymore.
Terry “Bam Bam” Hanson. Who the hell would name their little boy Terry? That’s my next opponent. I am not getting cocky though. This one might come to town with a full belly. Fighting is much different in our world now. The old saying, ‘hope he had a big lunch,’ has all kinds of meaning nowadays. Either way I am gonna manage my food so I can eat well a few days before. Try and stay good and hydrated till the fight. Stretch. All those important things.
Winning means eating. I want to win, want to eat more. At night though I am left wondering. What’s next. Is there something more. Work is still work. No matter how bad things are. We are still earning. Sure this is about survival as well but my eyes come from another time. A time when we looked to the future, to the bigger better.
What is my bigger better? I need things. I want things. Not tattoos and cars like I used too. I want things like affection and warmth. I want one damned person to look at me as more than a resource. You know, it’s not until money is gone do you realize all the things it couldn’t provide.