If you find this, please share my story.
The world is ending. That’s crazy, right? And I decided to listen to a crackpot’s idea of a safe bunker underground. If this were a television drama, I’d be the dead kid in the cold open. I’m in over my head. This bunker is empty. There are are a few cots, some blankets, and a single case of water. But there’s no food. The water drums are dry and empty. A lot of equipment looks old and confusing. I don’t know if this is going to work.
I thought about leaving and finding somewhere else to go, but what else is there? It’s been two days since the announcement, and it only took hours before this town fell completely apart.
You know what? I should start at the beginning. That might help.
I found Mr. Trainer’s farm two days ago, the night of the announcement. There were a lot of scared people on the road, driving like crazy, honking their horns, and screaming at each other. Who can blame them? It took me a long time to drive through everything, and even then I ended up ditching my car on the side of the road and running the rest of the way here.
Mr. Trainer isn’t home. That was unexpected. I guess he’s on vacation or something. I probably shouldn’t have broken into his house, but here we are. Finding the keys to the bunker took a while, but soon I found the bunker out back. In my opinion, it was too easy to find. For a mind who prided himself on preparedness, Mr. Trainer sure didn’t bother to cover up the bunker entrance. I might camouflage it later.
The bunker is a disaster but I’m going to make it work. I have to. It’s not all bad, anyway. There are generators, seeds, candles and matches, and a library. Most of the library is just survivalist books, but there’s a collection of romance novels here, too. I try to not judge a book by the cover. But I judge, and I think I judge fairly.
Let’s see. What have I done to survive so far? I found Mr. Trainer’s well. It’s one of those pump kinds. I can lug a bunch of water from the well into the water tanks of the bunker. I raided Mr. Trainer’s cupboards for supplies. About halfway through the day, I wanted to go back and find my car. I accidentally left a bag there when I abandoned it.
While I was on the road, I saw someone. It was a kid, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. He was on a bike going in the opposite direction as me. I don’t think he even saw me there until we passed each other. His face was red and his eyes were bloodshot. He must have been crying.
Should I have said something to him? Should I have offered him water? Or food? I don’t even have much myself. Survival is on my mind. I’m so ashamed, though. Why didn’t I say anything to him? I saw him as an enemy. He’s not an enemy! He’s a scared kid! I hope his family is taking care of him. If I go into town for more supplies, I’m going to try to find him.
I spent the night looking through the survival books when I heard noises outside. I had left the bunker door cracked open for fresh air. Just outside were two men, both armed with rifles. They didn’t see the bunker door. They talked about going hunting, but the way they said it, I don’t think ‘hunting’ means what it means in the traditional sense. More like ‘scavenging’ or ‘raiding’. The taller one said he killed someone yesterday. The other one said it was necessary.
I’m in danger. I knew this would be the case. But only two days since we were told the world is going to end and we’ve already gone from civilized society to killing people for supplies? I’m glad they never saw the bunker door. They just left. Can’t say I’m going to get much sleep tonight. I wonder if I can find a gun of my own tomorrow?