Shattered Earth

Chapter 1

        "What the hell is taking so long!" I yelled out loud, honking my horn in frustration. The traffic is horrible leaving the city during rush hour, and today I am not in the mood to deal with it. Thirty-two hours with no sleep, running from one end of the hospital to the other. Suturing and standing on your feet during long ass surgeries can really take one out of you.

      
      Two hours later, I opened the door to my apartment and went straight to the kitchen. I whipped up some delicious Ramen noodles and took a seat on my couch, switching on the news. "North Korean threats become more and more violent by the hour, as our Naval officers expect foul play, here is a statement from General William Davis,

"For the past few weeks we have been expecting an attack on the United States. The Korean government has been testing new-age nuclear weapons for the past ten years. However, they have become more violent with their attacks on our allied countries. All I can say is, I think we're next."

I rolled my eyes, "Well that's depressing", I thought. The news had been covering this story for more than two months now. It seemed like the only thing people talked about. I had caught people flaunting to their coworkers about the bomb shelters they were having built in their backyards these past few months. No matter how much I supported prepping, the one thing anyone with at least a little bit of common sense should know, you should never talk about it to other people. So, when someone asked me about if I was doing anything special, I would always say "If there's a disaster I want to go fast." Even though this was true, if it came down to it I would honestly rather die than live in the aftermath, it wasn't the whole truth. If there was impending attack, I would know because my Father would call me and tell me to head for our bunker.

My Dad is the king of disaster prepping. As a kid when he would come back on holidays from Washington D.C, we would always go out on a trip to our bunker. I'd never actually been inside of it, but I knew where it was. He had one built in the mountains for our family when I was a kid, but after my Mom left, it was just the two of us. 

After she left I was originally going to move to Washington with my Dad, but I ended up living with my Grandma instead. It was easier that way, I wouldn't have to change schools and I didn't have to grow up in the hustle and bustle of that city. 

I lied on the couch and listened to the news reporter go from tragedy to tragedy and after a while I was tired of it. I switched the television onto the cooking channel and turned the sound completely off. The exhaustion of my shift began to catch up to me, and my eyes got heavy. I stared out the window of my apartment, the lights of Denver were still visible despite the fairly long distance it was away. I eventually fell asleep, with not so pleasing images running through my head. 

       It seemed as if I had just disappeared into a dreaming abyss when I was awoken by the obnoxious sound of my phone ringing.
"Rose! Why haven't you answered my calls?" My Dad yelled into the phone. "I fell asleep" I groaned, checking the time. Four Forty-Five in the morning. "Listen to me Rose, you need to leave... now." My Father's voice was rigid.  I sat up, alert despite the heaviness in my body craving sleep. I had a nagging feeling that I knew what he would say next. "Dad?" I stood up and moved to the windows of my apartment. "Alas, Babylon. I love you Rose, I'll contact you if I can." He whispered. Before he hung up, screams echoed through the line, followed by a static sound. Not long after, the wails of distant bomb sirens filtered through the house. My Father's words still shook my being, but I jumped into action.

I  clicked on CNN to see live coverage while I fished my go-bag from my closet. "I'm getting reports on New York, Boston, D.C., the whole East coast is up in flames!" The reporter's voice was shaky as she read off a small pile of papers on her desk. D.C had been hit. That meant my Father was probably gone. However, there was too much adrenaline pumping through my veins to act on anything I was feeling. My head was spinning and it felt like I had been encased in a dark fog, a part of me just wanted to lie down and hope this was all a dream. That I would just wake up and everything would be back to normal. 

       I found the bag that was equipped with all of the things I would be needing if I got stranded. I changed out of my scrubs and put on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots. "We are at Defcon 5 people. Get sheltered in a basement or a low point in your home!" The news-woman shouted.  I grabbed my keys, purse, and phone. Then rushed outside and down the stairwell, not even bothering to turn the lights or television off. None of it would matter anyway if this really was the end. I made my way through the group of curious on-lookers in the parking lot, they were staring East, trying to find any signs of the attacks happening too far to see. I checked the trunk, making sure there was still a stash of spare supplies, and then I was off, towards the Safe Place.

       I was about an hour from the city now, or twenty minutes from my apartment, when I saw a bright orange light gather in my rear-view mirror. Denver had been hit. My friends probably gone. I felt a surge of regret that I hadn't gotten in touch with them before leaving. I might have been able to save someone. My mind wandered to not-so-pleasant places as I drove to the North. There wasn't a car in-sight. My Father was right, they would hit the big cities first, then the military bases, and he was sure they would bomb the shit out of anything else that was left. 

The bunker was just far enough outside of my city that I could get there in less than thirty minutes, which gave me some time to spare in case anything came up along the way. I ran the directions through my head as I sped down the roads. I felt for the people, not the ones that would probably die quickly in the explosion, but the one's who had to survive in the bunkers. The people that would eventually run out of food and water, they would eventually die of starvation or some might even go crazy. I might even be one of those people, and for a split second I considered pulling the .44 out of my glove box and ending it all right there. These terrible thoughts fueled my adrenaline as made my way to Boulder. I had hope in my Father, and I trusted that he wouldn't send me somewhere that he thought was less-than-perfect. But if it was anything like a normal bunker, I would be between a rock and a hard place. 

*1265 words
Revised some! Thanks for the reads.