At 12:01am on 12/21/12, I looked at the clock on my laptop and smiled.
Pft. Stupid Mayan calendar. Stupid people who misinterpreted the rock. I'm still here, and it's supposedly the end of the world. Hm. I have to admit, it's quite the letdown.
I saved my work on my laptop, powered down, and closed the lid before pushing away from my desk. With an enormous stretch and a few inhuman guttural sounds, I worked up the energy to stand up and walk away from my office. Ten hours of sitting at a desk staring at my computer screen had ever muscle in my body tense and aching.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, turned off all the lights in the house, and meandered into my bedroom. I set the bottle on the nightstand, right next to my alarm clock and the power cord for my phone, which I had forgotten in the office. Swearing under my breath, I stumbled around the house until I reached the office, and still fumbling in the dark, I managed to locate my phone before returning to the bedroom.
Placing my phone on the charger, I double checked the time. 12:09am. Still no signs of the Apocalypse.I had a Facebook notification that someone had commented on my status, and a Twitter notification that I had new interactions. I hit the clear button and put my phone to sleep. I turned the TV on to a recorded episode of Futurama, took my sleeping aid, and snuggled in with my body pillow and comforter to watch mind-numbing TV until I fell asleep.
My sleep was sound. I got a full eight and a half hours in, and woke peacefully in my bed, the television still turned on with Celtic music playing in the background.
Over the sound of the TV, however, I heard something else. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was definitely new. I muted the TV, and determined the sound was coming from outside. I pulled on my robe and wrapped it around me before making my way to the front of the house. The noise was much louder in the front of the house, but I still couldn't place it. I peered between the blinds to see if I could determine what was making that sound.
To my horror, there was a man with a chainsaw running down the middle of the street. I couldn't see his features very well, they were all smeared with blood.
I put a hand over my mouth to hold in the scream. If a man is running maniacally up and down your street with a chainsaw, you absolutely did NOT want to draw attention to yourself and let him know your location.
My brain was screaming at my body to move, to run, to do anything other than stand there and watch as a woman came running out of the house across the street. I couldn't tear my eyes away as I watched the man with the chainsaw stop, spin around quickly, and take off running after her. She stumbled and fell. The idiot was wearing heels, and one of them got caught in a crack in the pavement. The man with the chainsaw approached at full speed, and instead of getting up, the stupid woman just laid there, screaming, throwing one arm up in front of her like that was going to save her from a most certain death.
She was wrong.
The man with the chainsaw reached her in no time, and in one fluid motion, sawed the woman in half. Her blood squirted out and splattered all over the pavement around her body, which twitched for a minute, then was still. I continued to watch as the man used the chainsaw to saw her head open, and I watched the top half of my neighbor's head flop off and roll a foot away from the man, toward my house.
He dropped the chainsaw, and it turned itself off as it hit the ground. He knelt down beside her body, and grabbed the top half of her head. I watched in horror as he lifted it to his face and opened his mouth. He bit into the soft, squiggly tissue of her brain, slurping it into his mouth like some disgusting chunky soup. Bile rose in my throat, and I looked away to keep myself from vomiting. I still needed to keep quiet.
I backed away from the window, and silently returned to my bedroom. I grabbed my pistol and the three cartridges of ammo I kept in the interior door of my bedside table. Then I grabbed a couple of flashlights and called for my cats. We silently made our way to the basement, and I barricaded the door behind me.
At the bottom of the steps, I armed the trap I had set to crush the skull of anyone who tripped the wire. I ushered my cats into the steel room I had had built in the basement years before. Before bolting myself in, I pulled my emergency phone out of the bag I had been keeping in the basement for an occasion such as this. I dialed my mother's number. No answer. I tried her cell. No answer. I called my husband, who had stayed out all night helping his boss redo the tile floors of two separate stores in the franchise. No answer.
I was all alone, with only my two cats for company.
I grabbed the bag and ran inside the steel room, bolting the door behind me, and activating the air filtration system. Despite all my friends and family calling me paranoid and stupid, I had spent a lot of money and time getting my bunker ready. One can never be too careful. This room was guaranteed to withstand damn near anything, apart from a black hole and the earth swallowing the room up and pushing it to the molten center of the earth. I had it stocked with dehydrated and ready to eat meals, several gallons of purified water, and plenty of cat food for my little ones. Not to mention a large rack of ammo and an assortment of weapons, a bed, a refrigerator that will last for 5 days on it's battery even after the power goes out, two radios, several changes of clothes for both me and my husband, plenty of flashlights, batteries, candles, three power outlets connected to a backup generator, a portable camping stove and gear to cook with, kerosene lanterns and a large supply of kerosene, and a mini television that picks up both digital and analog stations. There was no shortage of necessities in my bunker. Hell, there was no shortage of luxuries, either.
I settled down on the bed, turned on the radio, and waited for someone to come on and tell us what was going on.
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