Fallen

 

I didn't really fall down. It's a metaphor for those of you who are too stupid to figure it out. Ugh, wow there I go. Not the second sentence and I am already insulting you. That had to be my problem. That right there, just how I always am such a dick to people! I've tried changing. I want to be nice... It's too late though. I can't do anything about it now.

August... What like the fourth or? Oh who gives a fuck. It was the summer and it was hot and that's all that matters. Even though that crap doesn't even really matter, But who cares you get the point. The usual was going on in town, as it had been my entire life. It was a small, actually quite tiny town in Nevada. And it is NEVAAADUH. The A makes a dang AH sound! I get so sick of people mispronouncing the name of the state I was born in! At about four I usually sat down in my makeshift office to pay bills and do some accounting and all that. I had been keeping a personal journal, I don't know what it's purpose was, or why in the world I made my entries so elaborate, but it was what it was and I made it kind of a habit. I couldn't possibly have imagined that it would be the very thing that ruined me. God I was so stupid... I wrote absolutely everything in that book! EVERYTHING. I had second thoughts about it too, why didn't I listen to them?! I cracked open the worn leather journal to find its pages fan out from right to left. And from right to left. And... From right to left! What in the... What in the gods name?! I couldn't believe my eyes! Was I drugged at that party last night and the drugs just now kicked in? No. That couldn't be possible, all those guys are too straight edge for any of that. I've gone mad. No I had really gone mad! I was furious that I couldn't write in my precious book! I slammed my hand down into the book. It stopped the flowing pages perfectly. My hand didn't bend any of them and it had came down on the last fresh page. Or, I mean I could of sworn I had left the last page blank! I remember clearly cutting my last entry short so that I could make just one more to end the book at exactly one year. I was so dumbfounded I hadn't even given a glance at what was written on the page. A black mass of inked numbers. Just scribbled all about the page. If I unfocused my eyes it looked just like regular writing. I had to kind of squint to process the numbers. They went in continuous spirals and connected patterns around the page. I began to realize that they weren't random at all, they went in a line, a curving, zigzaging line jutting all across the page, but it was a clear line. Every seven or eight numbers there was a gap. Or not really a gap, but a space. Not like a space between words, but just an emptiness where nothing was, is, or ever could be. I felt that if II tried to write there my pens ink would just be sacked away into an unseen black hole. I reached for my pen to test my theory, only to find that I had misplaced my only pen. But how could that be? I'm like the God of ocd I always put that pen in the same exact place on my desk. Whatever wrote this gibberish in my journal must have stolen my pen as well. A Crack of Thunder sounded and I immediately peered out of the window directly in front of my desk. The screen was missing. Not only missing, but by the looks of it, it had been set on fire and had burned away. My window was still locked, but it had a black char tint in it. I grunted to myself as now I had to spend money on a new screen and buy something to remove the burnt look off the window. With all the distraction of the actual window I had failed to notice the source of the thunder. There was no lighting. No thunder head clouds in the sky. But about fifty miles south a mushroom cloud rising at least a mile into the sky was also sending what looked like a Wall out of hell straight for my house.

 

I don't remember waking up. I was just walking. This was probably where my neighbors trampoline had been. It was one of the few spots that wasn't covered in rubble and there was a round patch of dead grass in the middle of it. The sky looked as though someone hotboxed the entire planet. I can't even begin to explain to you the devastation. Everything. Just Vanished. Gone. I walked up the hill behind where my house was. All that remained was the concrete bunker of a basement I had. I now wish I didn't have it. As I walked up the hill I made a point not to turn around until I had made it all the way up. I didn't want to slip on the loose gravel because of how grief-stricken I would be when I saw the total massacre. By the time I made it to the top I couldn't even tell that an explosion had occurred. The nice grassy tee off area for the golf course I lived on was untouched by the concussion. I slowly turned around. Now you've probably seen the pictures on the news when a hurricane or a tornado decimates a city. This was different. This was wrong and sickening beyond all fathomable lengths of the human mind.

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Nuclear waste is the material that nuclear fuel becomes after it is used in a reactor. It looks exactly like the fuel that was loaded into the reactor -- assemblies of metal rods enclosing stacked-up ceramic pellets. But since nuclear reactions have occurred, the contents aren’t quite the same. This waste, that was being dumped by the truck load at nearby yucca mountain, was extremely radioactive. Any human being to come in contact would die of radiation poisoning within 12 hours of exposure. Setting off a nuclear bomb in a pile of nuclear waste? Nuclear winter. So why am I alive? I live 40 miles from where the bomb was detonated and I have been living here for four years since then. Well, whoever made said bomb over calculated a few things. Firstly, the amount of uranium is to be 14 times greater than the amount of carbon neutrons. If the amount of uranium is any more, the explosion is significantly less radioactive in the direct area surrounding the point of explosion. Meaning that a one hundred mile radius around the bomb detonated at yucca mountain is safe and free of any radiation. As for the rest of the world, I don't, nor do I care to know. The second mistake was the extremety of the nukes' concussion. The wall of pressure released from the bomb blew away almost all radiation from the directly surrounding area of the detonation. A good bunker, a poorly planned bomb, and some random luck. That's why I'm still here. Same goes for the other few people who live in the town I've set up. We don't have much, but we're better off than the rest of the backened ice age that was the rest of the planet.

 

Yellowstone National Park. The very first National park declared by the government of the United States. The most powerful super volcano on the planet. The ash from its eruption could send the entire planet into an ice age. That's almost what happened. Almost the entire planet was fifteen below and struggling to barely survive. Almost every human on the planet was threatened. Almost every human. The majority of the wildlife and quite a few humans living in and around yucca mountain are doing just fine temperature wise. I believe that last night it only got down to about sixty degrees. Oh no the temperature is the least of my problems. Food, water. Land. I suppose the ice age people have the same issues, but of course for very different reasons. The people of my town have made a packed. We shall never venture into what we call 'the cold'. Not only for the specific adventurers safety, but for the sheer survival of all of us. If anyone from the outside found out we were warm. Instead of fifty our population would become fifty million overnight. The forty-eight of use can barely stay alive as it is. We don't need a single additional soul to ruin our day. If only I had tried harder to stop all of this... If only I- He didn't. No that son of a bitch didn't! He left. He left, heading out into the cold. I swear to god if he comes back alive I will wring his neck. And if brings friends.... Well fuck my day too why don't ya!

 

As I launched myself into the rushing river I could hear Henry's blood curdling screams. I floated about fifty yards down stream before I latched on to the sharp granite shore. I didn't turn around until I knew I was safe from the gushing water. The creature stood directly above Henry's mutilated body. With blood covering the ground around them and quickly drifting down stream toward me, fear bellowed up inside of me. Not of the blood. Not of the creature itself. But of what was to come. This couldn't possibly be the only one of its kind. It was. A mutant. Probably a human that had been exposed to just the right amount of radiation to make them go mad, but not kill them. There was more I was sure. Because off in the distance upstream I heard muffled growling and obnoxious screeching. A loud clicking rung out coming from the same direction. The beast that had devoured my towns traitor perked it's only ear up and darted off into the woods behind. I ran. I got the hell out of there. I was heading downstream. Every so often I'd jump in the river and float a ways in the hopes that it would hide my scent from the mutant beasts. After about an hour of this I crawled up the now dirt shore and just layed face down in the mud. I was lost, soaked, and my people would be doomed to survive if these creatures found us. This was far from rock bottom though, I was only down on my luck for the time being. Things got worse. Much worse.

Henry was the idiot who had ran off from the village. I told you that I would track him down and slaughter that fucker. Granted, I didn't expect a mutant creature to rip his jaw from his skull, but I basically took care of it. Since I have the time, I should probably get you up to speed, as you probably have a lot of questions involving the phrase 'what the fuck'. To summarize what I've already told you, I worked on a farm. A nuke went off in a nearby nuclear waste storage and I and a few other miraculously survived. Simultaneously the super volcano at yellowstone erupted covering the entire earth with ash causing the third ice age. In the four years following all of this I have made a makeshift town now housing 47 people. We may not thrive, but we survive. Henry, a recent resident of the town, ran off into the cold. I hunted him down, all the while realizing that not all of the world was ice age, and found that mutant creatures roamed the fogged woods.

Oh my journal? Right... I forgot about it. I still have it. The last page changes from day to day. I think it cycles through images. I still haven't the slightest clue how it got there, or what it is... What It means... I don't know. All I know is that I have to get the fuck out of here an-

 

Ice age? Where the hell did I get that idea from? A spark and everything around would incinerate. I've been running for hours and I'm about to pass out. I don't have a clue where I am. I don't think I care anymore though. The creatures are everywhere. I've been through three cities and those things were everywhere. Still not single human in sight. I've been hiding in a cabin on Mt Rose ski resort. It's December and this place should be about twenty degrees this time of day. I think I'll spend the night here and see what I can do in the morning. There has to be someplace, somewhere where humans still live. These mutant beasts... It's like they've replaced everyone. Like they just switched spots with every human one with except for me and--oh who am I kidding! Those things are people! The radiation must've... But that can't happen... Well at least not to everyone! There must be someone out there alive!

As the sun set over the Sierra Nevada I made my way to the summit of Mt Rose. Just as the sun disappeared behind the mountains in the distance I got one last glimpse of my burned-out city. Now overrun by those monsters.

I woke up shivering. My watch was equipped with a thermometer and it read -15 degrees fahrenheit. I reached to grab the thick blanket that I had previously tossed on the floor as it was much too hot for it. I slowly drifted back to sleep.

My entire body dripping with sweat I shot out bed grabbed my gun instantly blew the mutant to pieces. He must have snuck in while I was asleep. Man fuck this shit. What's the point of living if everyday you fight for your life? It would be different if I had a kid or if my wife was still alive and with me. But I have no purpose. If anyone at all is still alive... But no I'm the last one. I found a radio in the cabin and it got just about every kind of signal ever invented by mankind. Nothing. Nothing. Static. Very seldom I found a low humming noise on a channel. Eventually I just stopped trying. I left the machine on one of the channels that gave a low hum. I just sat in my chair and stared at the thing. I wanted to cry. I wanted to just scream and fucking run. I don't know. The hours ticked by. After about three hours I heard something over the radio. I jumped up and turned it all the way up. A low stuttered growl came out the speakers. It would come and go. It seemed to be slowly getting closer and louder. Ten minutes went by of the on and off growling until it got so loud I had to turn the speakers down. I was pretty sure that whatever the source of the growling was, was now hovering over the mic on the other end of radio channel. It got eerily quiet and then became completely silent. There wasn't even a hum anymore, just silence. Disappointed I grabbed my water and drank some of it. I coughed loudly, the water must've gone down the wrong pipe in my throat. I heard and echoing cough come out of the speakers. My eyes widened. My heart began to race. I looked over at the desk in front of me. A large stand up mic stood with a light labeled 'live' lit up on the base. I froze. It was in here. It was with me. My gun was on the other side of the room. My knife was on my bed. I slowly began to stand up and turn around. I glanced around the room. Nothing. Just as I began to walk forward a shattering boom came out the speakers making me cup my ears and drop to the ground. I crawled around to the desk and fumbled with my hand to turn the radio off. I flipped the small switch but the now piercing screech still emanated from the speakers. I stood up and darted to the nightstand by my bed, picked up my gun and shot both of the speakers. The silence was soothing. Until the boom happened again and the screech came back, now even louder than before. I couldn't take it, I fell to the floor paralyzed in pain from the noise and I passed out.

 

I awoke laying on the floor, staring into the closed eyes of the sleeping creature. I was completely paralyzed. I couldn't move a single muscle in my body. This was it. I was staring into my fate. Well, I guess you know that I didn’t actually die, because how would I be writing this otherwise? After ten minutes I regained movement, grabbed my gun and shot the thing dead. I looked out the window. And then noticed the fog in my breath. The snow was almost to the top of the window. I trying pushing the door open but it was no use. The snow fell harder and harder. If i broke a window trying to escape I would be crushed by it all rushing in at me. Time went on and I just watched as I was slowly being buried by the ever faster falling snow. Eventually it became pitch black and I was forced to start up the fire. I knew it was pointless trying to survive. I had little food from the beginning. And it was getting colder and colder.

This is it. and this time I mean I am done for. How can I possibly still be alive? My watch reads negative 41 degrees! My nose has ice inside of it! It’s like I can’t die. I feel all the pain of myself going, but I never do. I’ve been a frozen brick for eight days now. I can’t move, I can’t even eat, but I’m still alive. I wish I was dead. I wish I had the ability to something other than write this. It’s like they want me to. They don’t want me to die. They want me to tell the story of the last human being. But who am I telling it to? Why does this even matter? And why the hell won’t they let me die!

But it’s true. I’ve been greedy. I stole, I deceived, I did everything and anything to that stupid green paper filling up my bank account. I’ve killed a man. Before all of this of course. When it was wrong and illegal. I strangled him to death dragged his cold body out to sea afterwards. Karma. Yeah, I am sure that gypsy shit is real. It’s happening to me right now. I deserve this. I’ve done worse things to other people. I was just starting to wake up too. I was just having that Ebenezer Scrooge moment, where he realizes he’s a terrible greedy person. But it’s too late now. I’m Gone.