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We live in what can only be described as a prison. We live like a family, and some of us are. There are six of us. Randy, is the guy who built this place. He's a bit on the crazy side but we can't always argue because he makes that point about how right he was and how none of us would be alive if it wasn't for his bunker. Jess, my sister is probably one of the only people here with a true strand of hope. I've always been so envious about how she is so confident, no matter what. We also have this girl. She looks maybe fifteen, but she doesn't talk. God knows why, or what happened that traumatized her so much. While she is entirely mute she is kind of the reason we are so all sane. She brings a calm and wholesome attitude to the group. That's why we call her heart. Another kid is Devon, we call him Dev. He's sixteen and was gonna ride a football scholarship all through college. The kid has grit. He's willing to bite the bullet and do what nobody wants to. As selfless as he is we never let him take on all the responsibility. I count Gus as one of us because he is one of our most important members. He finds us food and warns up of danger, not to mention it helps to give his fluff a good floofing when we are down. Last but not least is yours truly. My name is Shaun. I was a medic for the military. Everybody insists on calling me doc, or med. Not a fan of those names, especially since when I introduced myself, I left out the part about how I was still in training. Luckily the most I've had to do for the group is a couple stitches here and there, but I rue the day I have to truly save someone's life. We were sitting around the Bunsen burner we cook all our cans on like every night when Randy looks up from his little pad with dull eyes, "Okay, who's been eating more than your fair ration for the last month?" "What?" Jess Chimes in, her smile fading. "Last month, I did an inventory stock and found we had enough food for the next three months. Now we only have enough food for a week. So who's been eating more?" Everyone turns to each other already judging culprits in their minds. Randy Continues, "We've been working off the honor system here, but I see now that that was a mistake. Listen, whoever did this, you've just collectively stabbed everyone here in the back, including yourself. So step forward and maybe we won't hang you!" Dev looks up already smiling, some smart ass response ready, "If you come out now, we'll only break your kneecaps." "It was you, wasn't it?" Randy snaps, "I always knew I couldn't trust you." Dev turns to me, "Is he being racist or paranoid?" Jess, steps in, "He didn't mean it like that." Gus Whines loudly and Heart starts sneaking away in an attempt to avoid the conflict. "I see you, you little bitch! You can't shy your way out of this one, I ought to teach you a les-" Before Randy could finish his thought he's cut off by a loud thunk by a weathered hand colliding with his face. "Say something else about her, I want a good reason to hit you again!" Devon shouts as I pull back on his arms. Everyone stands up and starts shouting at each other as Randy lays on the ground still confused as to what just happened. An abrupt whistle stops the cluttered voices and everyone looks at Jess, "Listen, we've all been cooped up in here for too long anyway. Maybe the lack of food is a good thing. I'm not sure what's beyond that two-inch door, but its time we get out of here." Everybody collectively shifts their attention to the door, a metal hatch at the top of a latter. The image of something being out there is too much and nobody moves an inch. "So who goes out and scavenges?" Before Dev can open his mouth Jess interrupts, "Not you. "Then who do you suggest? Schizo here? Whatever is out there he'll say zombies or the tv people." I stand up, holding back my shaking body hoping it isn't visible, "I'll go. I'll take Gus and the gun. I'm the only one who knows how to use it anyway." My sister looks at me longingly, "You may be a scardy cat, but damn it all if you aren't brave. Heart, get him a bag of Spram and the gun." Heart Rushes to the other room. Gus comes to my legs and sits as if he really knows the gravity of the situation. Heart returns with my bag and a rifle. She hands them to me along with a crumpled up note and gives me a tight hug. Randy walks up to me rubbing his cheek, "Don't die. I kind of like having a doctor on the team." Dev grabs my shoulder, "Don't take any risks out there and come back as soon as you have something. We don't want to spend too much time worrying." I push Gus outside the hatch and it closes behind us sounding louder than a shotgun. Tears are already streaming down my face and Gus rubs against my leg in an effort to quiet my fears. "Thank you," I whisper to him rubbing his ears. I open Heart's note to find it says, "Avoid the moths." It's been an hour and I've seen nothing. so far the neighborhood looks the same and I start walking towards the market. I notice salt around the foundation and think nothing of it. I walk through the entrance only to hear a click as my weight shifts. Looking down it was kind of surreal. Only a squeak escapes my mouth as I frantically look around. My boot was stretching a wire. I look around seeing that it might be my lucky day, as lucky as triggering an explosive device can be. I was on a tension detonation claymore. the moment I release the tension of the wire, I die. It's an especially sick design because it gives you a chance to survive while still alerting the trapper. I lean down pulling on the wire slowly climbing my way to the claymore. It's just out of my reach as a shotgun cocks behind my head. "Someone knows what they're doing." I turn around slowly to see a large man with a buzzcut standing above me. "You ex-military?" "I'm a doctor!" I blurt. "What?" "You shouldn't kill me, because I'm a doctor, and I can help you with that!" "What' what?" He asks as Gus digs into his leg with his teeth. He then yells in pain shifting his attention. I leap over the mine triggering it and launching hundreds of tiny metal balls into the guy's backside. Both Gus and the man fall bleeding. "With that," I say trying to get up. I can't get up. My feet are shredded and I'll quickly bleed out. Nobody won this. I lay on my back. I can already imagine the conversation between the group. Their worry holding my soul as everything shifts into darkness. Author's NoteWhen reading this story my friends asked if it exists in the same universe as Do or Die, one of them even asking specifically if it's based in the future. All I said to them was, "I don't like time travel and it would be difficult to tie things together, but I also like to think that everything I write is connected in some way. So it's really up to the reader's head-canon." I suppose I was trying to say that I wouldn't mind if they did exist in the same world, but I don't want to make the world of Do or Die more complicated my self, so if someone wants to Cow Tools everything, go for it.
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Dee
I'm a writer, artist, and comic enthusiast. Archives
September 2020
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