The familiar sound of screeching rusty metal pierces my ears as I open the bunker door. I am met with the bitter metallic stench in the air, and the hazy red sky. The red sun blinded me for a moment, after spending so much time in the darkness of the bunker. I stand at the top of the steps taking in the view of this desolate wasteland I’ve grown accustomed to. Hard to believe it has already been 7 years since the war. I remember what it was like when this land still had life. The trees, blue sky, fresh air. People. Back when it wasn’t just me out here alone. When the military wasn’t trying to kill you or take you on sight. Since the war, the military has had commands to kill every person they see unless they are important. This is in an attempt to restart with a world that knew nothing of the past, But they haven’t found me yet.

I shut the doors behind me and cover them with the debris and scrap metal I use to hide the doors, and check my bag for everything I need. It’s important to carry weapons in this world. You never know when someone will try to take your stuff, or kill you. With everything I need in my bag, I set off into the unknown. I follow the same route every day to the communications building a few miles away. It was an old radio station in the town that other survivors turned into a transmission station that is hidden from the military. We have secret codes that we use to know who is who. The system has been up for years now, but there aren’t many of us left. We use it to help each other map routes for supply runs each week. We can help each other find routes to take in order to avoid checkpoints, convoys, and patrols. I cut through some old railway tunnels in order to not be seen by drones, it’s the safest route. The same monotonous journey every day. The same cadence of my own footsteps over the gravel in the tunnels, the same graffiti on the inner tunnel walls that I see every day. I open the steel door with my passcode and enter the upper part of the building. The door shuts behind me and I move the bookshelf away from the small hatch in the floor. My bag hits the dirt covered floor at the bottom and I descend the ladder, turning on the generator once I reach the bottom. The “radio room” that was once an old cellar. The room lights up and all of the panels come on. With a few switches and button presses I am now live and broadcasting to any other transmission stations for survivors in a 100 mile radius. 

“This is station 9 going live from the orange county district, asking for any route updates going from the orange county district to Rushville… over.” A moment of silence filled with the slight humming of the old radio. There is more silence than usual, then followed by a voice that I haven’t heard before. “Station 9, 10-9.” So I repeat, “This is station 9 from the Orange county district calling for route updates going from Orange county to Rushville.” Then another moment of silence, then just “10-4.” 

I wait for a response from the channel, but nothing comes through. “What station is this?”, I ask. No response. I call a few more times and nothing else comes through. It has to be the station not receiving, so I go upstairs and outside the door. I begin to climb the satellite tower. I haven’t checked it in a while, I’m sure it’s just some messed up wires or something. The ladder was rusty and missing posts in some areas. My palms are slick with sweat as I near the top. I was unsure of it, but I needed to get up to the top. I reach the top, kneel down and pop the hatch to the electrical box. The wind was shaking the tower and I tried not to think about it. Everything looked fine. All of the wires were in good condition and the fuses were good. I stand up and check my watch. I don’t have much time left. The human body can only be exposed to the radiation in the air for a couple of hours a day without any equipment. I look back up from the watch and in the distance something catches my eye. Something in the sky, the sun gleaming off of it. I realize what it is immediately. It’s a drone! I look below the drone and I see vehicles heading my direction. At least 6 or 7 military trucks coming towards the station. I figure I have a couple of minutes before they reach me, so I hurry down the tower and back into the station to collect my things. I hear the humming of the drone overhead, it must have reached me first. I get my bag and start to initiate a program reset on the station's computer. I have to wipe it, or else everyone in the region will be found and wiped out. The program reset is initiated, and I shut off the generator.

BOOM!... I fall to the ground as debris falls overtop of me. Dust fills my eyes and mouth, my ears are ringing. Daylight shining down on top of me, through the demolished station roof. I crawl to my feet and run toward the ladder. Climbing the ladder I hear the truck brakes, the men yelling, feet hitting the dirt. I reach the top of the ladder and exit what was left of the back part of the station. I hear the voices shouting behind me as I sprint down the railroad tunnel where I entered. Then the sound of gunshots ring my ears. 

Bullets are whizzing past and chunks of concrete from the walls are being blasted to pieces right next to my face as I run. These were warning shots but the next ones won’t be. I dart behind the nearest cover I could find, which was an old train car. I reach into my bag and grab a smoke can. I hurl it into the tunnel where they are running from, then I jump out of the other side and start running for the end of the tunnel. Just as I near the end, something slams into my back. A sharp pain shoots down my spine and I hit the gravel floor. I had been shot. 

I crawl around the corner to the entrance of the tunnel and lean against the wall. The blood is running down my back and soaking my shirt. The bag hits the floor, and then the gun is in my hand. With the footsteps fast approaching, I turn the corner and open fire. One,Two,Three,Four shots and I duck back behind the wall. Bullets are zipping past me, and then there is a break. I turn the corner once against, but this time I am met with a hail of gunfire. I get back behind the wall and I know I can’t win this battle. In my bag there is one more smoke can, I grab it and throw it at my feet. I hold my breath and then I take off running as fast as I can towards my bunker. The smoke fills the tunnel entrance as I sprint away. Every step hurts but it’s my only option that I have left. It hurt to run, I had been shot in the back, but I think that my bag stopped the bullet enough to not go in all the way. I’m running through old decaying buildings and in tunnels to try to lose the drone. As long as it sees me, the soldiers will know where I am. I keep hearing trucks behind me but then I duck into a building and lose them. I stop in an old library and see the final stretch, I have to run across the open to get to the bunker doors. I stop and listen for the drone, and I hear nothing. It’s almost too quiet, no trucks, no drones, footsteps. Nothing at all. I grit my teeth and take off into the open, running as fast as I can. I reach the door, pulling the debris off of the door just enough to squeeze through. My feet hit the ground of the bunker and I shut the door.

  “I think I got away!” “How did I get away?” A sigh of relief as I fall to the floor.

I sit in silence for a moment, contemplating what to do next. It’s only a matter of time before they go searching for me and find the bunker. I’ve got to get my things and leave, I have no other choice. I stand up and start packing. I’m grabbing supplies from boxes and packing them into bags as fast as I can.

The sound of screeching rusty metal pierces my ears. I stop, and my heart sinks to the floor. A wave of warm air rushes down the entrance hatch and into the bunker. The ladder creaks, and heavy steps are heard descending the ladder. I take a deep breath, and I feel the grip of the pistol in my hand. I point at the entrance and wait for the inevitable.