The Greek Gods and the Apocalypse

Chapter 1 (Edited)

As I watch the sunrise, beautiful yellow and orange light rushing in around me, I look into the barracks. Everyone is sleeping. I find myself wondering, do they also dream of a world outside of our colony, called Community? Or do they believe Community houses the last of us? The last of humanity.

I am a hunter. As hunters, we have very little personal space. Everyone has only enough room for a bed and dresser. Our barracks are laid out like a wagon wheel. Our beds line the walls of the round flat steel rim of the wheel giving each hunter a triangle-shaped space with drawable curtains. The center of the wheel, the hub is where our weapons are stored.

Slowly rising to my feet, I make my bed, draw my curtains, and get dressed. After drawing my curtains open, I grabbed my bow, and arrows, and proceeded to the front of the room. I smile as I pick up the bell off the table. Then I begin to ring it rather aggressively.

"Come on people, rise and shine. Breakfast won't be there all day." It's fun really. Ringing the wake-up bell and making the morning announcement. I'm always amused by how some people wake up immediately and are on their feet like their bed is on fire. While others look at you like they don't comprehend the concept of getting up at all.

"Leaving for breakfast in five" I announce to get the stragglers moving along.

The next five minutes are a blur with everyone trying to finish what they're doing so we can go eat. "Everyone ready to go?" Lots of yeses ring out "Let's go eat then."

As we approach the pavilion where all of our meals are served, Peter asks, "What do the other people moving swiftly towards the pavilion look like to you Aurora?"

"To me, it looks like eight groups of wild animals converging on their prey. Everyone is in such a hurry to get their morning meal."

With a chuckle, Peter says, "That's funny Aurora. I was just thinking everyone looks as hungry as I feel. I like your analogy better though."

Once seated at the hunter's table in the pavilion, "Everyone eat up. Remember we will not be back until dinner."

We all enjoyed the pancakes, sausage, bacon, and scrambled eggs. "Don't forget to grab your lunches on the way back to the barracks. We only have what we pack into the woods with us after all."

There are conversations taking place all around but the one that piques my interest is about when it will rain again. "I wish it would rain soon," Peter says from across the table.

"I couldn't agree more," I reply. "Not only because our collection barrels are only half full but I would like a little curveball thrown into my routine. Our lives feel a bit mundane when everything stays the same day in and day out."

"Agreed," Peter replies.

Nikki, a weaponsmith sitting across from me, calls my name and breaks my train of thought. "Aurora, I have a question for you. Who has the better throwing form? Me with my spear thrown overhand like a baseball or Russell with his side-arm knife throw. You know frisbee style."

Russell objects "I do more than sloppily sling my wrist like I'm throwing a frisbee to a dog." It's obvious that Nikki has offended Russell. He's got a scowl on his face and a sarcastic undertone in his voice. Nikki picks up on this and appears to be amused.

I glance from Nikki to Russell wondering why it matters. I find the question pointless. Nikki and Russell are the most competent projectile marksmen our colony has; therefore, I don't see the point in debating their styles over breakfast. Truth be told they both can throw anything with deadly accuracy. I would never want to be on the receiving end of one of their throws.

The small part of me that is amused by their endless competition takes over and replies, "Nikki's hair looks nicer when she throws but your biceps look better Russell." I can't help myself I break into laughter.