our apocalypse || michael langdon fic

chapter 2 - the trek

A few days have passed, and it's the same thing every single day. I wake up this morning, or, whatever time it is when I wake up, with a particularly dreadful feeling. I sit up and groan.

"Morning, Delia." says Timothy.

"Morning." I reply.

"You still got that headache?" Emily asks me.

"Yep, it's worse than ever today. I feel like death."

"I hear you." Emily says. "They can't keep us in here forever, though."

My head is pounding and my back hurts like hell. I'm not sure how much longer I can live in here without going mad. My biggest concern though is whatever the fuck is going on outside. There are no windows and the walls are heavily insulated, so I can't see or hear a damn thing.

     I feel like a dog in a cage. I feel like this is some punishment for something I didn't even know I did. Atleast I'm not dead, I guess.

     Suddenly, the large, heavy door slowly opens. A tall man in a hazmat suit emerges from the doorway with more suits on both his shoulders. After him, another man in a hazmat suit walks in empty-handed. I stand up, slightly afraid but also hopeful. I look up at Emily and Timothy, and they're both looking at eachother confused. The man slowly walked towards me, and he hands me a suit and instructs me to put it on. I comply, unzipping it, stepping into it, and zipping it back up.

Emily and Timothy are let out of their cells through doors and led down stairs to get to the bottom floor, where I am. They are given their hazmat suits and they both put them on.

Since we're finally all on level floor, I get a good look at the two. Emily is about my height, and Timothy is a good bit taller than I am. They both have a blank expression, as if they're afraid of showing any emotion. The men in hazmat suits lead the three of us out of our past prison. As one of the men push open the door, I am immediately blinded by the grayish haze that fills the open air.

Everything is gone.

White flurries of ash are falling around and swaying in the wind. Dead animals are scattered across the ground. I look up, and I cannot see the sky.

It's over.

Everything I once knew, everything I was so used to, was gone. Forever. But I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. All I feel is the need to survive. So, I continue to follow the men in the hazmat suits. I don't have any other choice except to follow these men. It's hard to see the ground in front of me, but the men seem to know exactly where they're going.

For hours, we walk with no end in sight. I don't see a single living person the entire time.

They're all gone.

They must be. Who could possibly survive like this? For the first time in years, I feel grateful for my life. I was spared. They could have chosen anybody to spare during the nuclear apocalypse, and they chose me. Why? Did I do something extraordinary? Something they liked? Or was it random?

Who are 'they', anyway? Why are they so important that they get to call the shots during the apocalypse? And what it is they want from us?

Questions. Questions are all I have right now. But I don't dare speak. I know better than that. It's not my place. It seems as if this is no longer a world worth questioning. I have a hunch that any sort of questioning will result in instant death.

Timothy and Emily seem to be glued to each other. They haven't spoken a word to eachother since we left, but they haven't been able to leave each other's side. I wish I could see their faces, but it's just so hard to see out here. The hazmat suits over their faces don't help, either. If anything, I'm glad I have those two with me. We've all become pretty close during the time we spent locked in cages. They're great people. They deserve to live.

One foot in front of the other. Repeat. One foot in front of the other.

Where the hell are we going?

We've been walking for ages. If I had to guess, I'd say around 5 hours. We haven't taken a single break since we started. Not that I need one, anyway. I have plenty of distraction going on in my head to pay any mind to the pain in my feet.

As we walk, I count the dead bodies I see scattered about. So far, I've seen 3. A man, alone, and a woman holding her child. Each time I see one, I wonder about the craziness that went on in their lives. What did they live for? What was their world like?

4 bodies. A young girl, probably in her early teens. Definitely too young to have done anything to deserve her fate. Poor girl had her entire life in front of her.

     I don't even know who sent the missiles. I don't think anyone does. I honestly don't think anybody is supposed to know. It wouldn't surprise me, it's not like it's the first time people in power have kept secrets from us.

     5 bodies. An elderly woman, probably in her 70s. A gruesome scene. Her eyes are wide open, a portal to her truest inner turmoil. I hope she lived a good life. I hope she followed her dreams. I hope she got the chance to sit down and love life. I look away before I start crying.

     Right as I begin to question if the men were even leading us anywhere, they both stop. Emily, Timothy, and I slowly walk further and stand next to the men. I can finally see it. In front of us is a round structure.

What the hell is that?

After standing still for about 15 seconds, the men continue to walk towards the structure. We follow.