untitled story, chapter 1

The bombs fell on August 19, 2156. The warning signs were all over. We were told it was coming for a long time. Decades. Nobody would do anything. America declared war on Russia. That’s when the bombs fell. No one was prepared for the destruction America received. Nobody that wasn’t in a bomb shelter lived for more than two days. Liquefied or burnt to death from the blasts. My great-grandfather survived. He saw all of it firsthand. But now, now I have to survive. I’m living in the apocalypse. Raiders don’t come by anymore at least. Save for one or two stragglers a month. Then there was the night everything changed…

I was dozing off in my makeshift bed, pistol in hand. I was afraid to sleep, there have been more raiders in the area lately. Despite myself, I slept for one, maybe two hours. I awoke to gunfire and yells. Raiders. I kept silent as I turned the safety off on my pistol and crept down to the first floor as slowly as possible. Four raiders. Running around in town, blasting everyone, man, woman or child into bits. No mercy. They’ve lost their minds, and they seem to be fine with it. They take food, weapons, anything except hostages. There were six houses in the makeshift town, including mine. I took off, trying to save myself, or stop the raiders.

I saw a straggler taking a piss on a dead man, and I took my chance. I took out my knife and crept up to him. I was just about tot attack when he turned around, finished. I leaped at him and stabbed him repeatedly in the neck and stomach. He didn’t have time to scream. He was gurgling his last few breaths and I looked back towards the other raiders. They were torturing a family. Making the mother choose which child dies first. I picked up the rifle the raider was carrying and took a potshot towards the raiders. I hit on the foot and he fell, screaming. In retaliation, he shot both kids. “You fucks!” I shouted and charged towards them in a fit of blind rage. I took out my pistol and fired off three shots. One landed a raider in the chest, while another in the arm. I charged towards the one who shot the kids and started beating him with my bare hands. I picked up a rock and repeatedly bashed him in the head as hard as possible.
I got ripped of the mess of blood and tissue and started receiving my own beating from the raider that was shot in the arm. I pushed my fingers into his wound until he couldn’t stand it and get rolled over in pain. I took his shotgun and spent a shell in the back of his skull. The last raider was female, and she was dying. I let her suffer.

The woman was cradling her dead kids in her arms, crying. After a while in this waste, you get used to seeing this shit. I left her to her grieving and looked around the town for survivors. The only house that wasn’t attacked was mine. Damn it. Me and the woman are the only survivors. I went back to her to talk to her. “Come with me.” I said warmly.
“Why? Where will we go?” she wailed back.
“I’m not sure, but anywhere’s better than here.” I offered her my hand. She took it and stood up. We buried her children and we took what we could. I tried to make small talk, and learned her name was Stacey. We took hold in a semi-standing barn for the night when she woke me up.
“Frank, Frank.” She whispered and nudged me.
“Huh?!” I grumbled.
“I hear something outside the barn. Whispers.” Shit, I thought. I picked up my rifle and checked out around the barn. I looked around the corner and saw a dog sniffing at the barn door. I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried back to my bed. There were two raiders standing at the entrance, waiting for me. They had Stacey held at gunpoint and were calling my name. I saw them first and shot one of them in the side of the head. The other one turned to me and fired. I took on in the shoulder. I took out my pistol and fired a few rounds through the searing pain. To my luck, a round pegged the raider in the stomach and he collapsed. There was one more who had Stacey at gunpoint. I walked into the barn, and stared him dead in the eyes.
“One more step man. Shell be the new fucking wallpaper in here.” He shouted, wild eyed. He was scared. Desperate.
“Listen, just let her go, and I won’t put two rounds in your fucking skull. You think Ill lose sleep over your scummy ass blood on my hands? I’ll be doing everyone a favor.”
“Listen shit-head! I will fuck you up! Don’t fuck with me! I’ll, I’ll-” He pointed his gun at me. Perfect chance, now or never. I drew my pistol and fired two rounds. Both hit him square in the head. Stacey was okay, if a bit shaken, so I let her sleep. I took watch the rest of the night.
The next morning, I got patched up, packed up, and we left. We walked for I don’t know how long. Where we were going, what we would do when we got there, it didn’t matter. We survived.