PTPFNW (On Hold)

Chapter 1

It's 2056 and nuclear war is deadly close. And no-one will win.

Ding..dong
It's probably that Jehovas Whitness again I thought. Last time I said I was a druid! It left them puzzled and they left me alone.
I opened the door and saw two men in black suits, one holding a clipboard and the other had a brief case.
"

Hello young man" said the 1st man,"are you 'Mr Kyle Foster?"
"Why would you want to know?" I replied.
"Kyle is eligible for-"
"Compensation?" I asked rudely cutting him off.
"No. Actually he's eligible for a place in the nearest PTPFNW bunker for a time in need." He said smiling.
I sighed then took his pen and signed the documents.

Three months later.

I switched on the TV and turned it to BBC1 for local news. I was surprised to see news presenters panicking and Paul was crying. What on earth I am I seeing I thought then a camera man says, "World war three! We're doomed!" Then the screen went to that long beep and cut off. Claiming that the problems were technical issues. I flicked through almost all of the news channels all saying,
'Sorry, this service is unavailable due to technical issues. Sorry for the inconvenience.'
"What on earth is going on!" I shouted. Only for no-one to hear.
I packed my rucksack with Bruce, my phone and charger, I put my coat and watch on, grabbed rat foot, Paracetamol, Antibiotics, spare clothes and my Remington 870 MCS - the shotgun I got for my 18th, alongside two boxes filled with 50 shells for my R870 MCS. This is worrying I thought, what about my mum and the rest of my family. What do I do? I took my key and unlocked my door and saw a letter with my name written on the front. I opened it and read its contents; '18 Western Street, London.'
"I guess that's where I'm going." I mumbled to myself.