It's Monday and that means another free short story this week! Here is one of my favorite sci-fi short stories that I have written. I hope you enjoy and that it distracts you just a little during these still crazy times. Everything Went Red
I closed my eyes hoping for darkness, instead the orange-red glow that now permeated our world still managed to seep in. Did true darkness even exist anymore? I wondered if any of us would ever know. Our world was dying and I doubted we could find a way to stop it. Deciding that sleep would elude me again, I got up and went to what we called a library. We were in a large bunker deep underground, you would think I’d have to turn on lights to walk around, but no the glow from above somehow had sunk down and embedded itself in the very walls. The radiation was spreading, it seeped into us right now even as most of us slept. The end was near and we would go out with a whimper instead of a roar. I went into the quiet room that housed our books and meager computers. I had read the history books about the world before the red, before the war, at least a dozen times. They sounded more like fairytales, for we did have a copy of those as well, than history. Yet I knew it all to be true. I had been born in those times even if I didn’t remember them. My father and I had survived the initial blasts and fights, though we had lost my mother. My father was been ex-military and had helped us set this base up, helped us survive. Then he went on a mission one day and never came back. I was ten. That’s when the library, the books that told of my father’s time, became my solace. Over time I had become our little colony’s historian, our record keeper, our researcher. Alana the Wise was my nickname. I didn’t feel wise. My research meant nothing. The past could not help us. I could not help us. Seeking the comfort of my books I started reading about life before the war. Everyone else except for our lookouts slept, so the only sound to keep me company was the rhythmic beeping of the computers. We kept them on even though we had not heard from other human beings in almost a year. For all we knew we were the last humans left. I doubted that, but we were at least the last with access to communication and that was close to being the same thing. The isolation had started to get to all of us, not to mention that our food supply had started to dwindle. Our attempts to grow food underground had proven fruitless and nothing could be grown on the red earth now, all we could do was continue to scavenge for old tinned foods and Twinkies. Try as I might, I could not concentrate on reading. So I switched to my passion project, the need to write down my own story. I had been secretly working on a history of our time, of the Red time after the war. After the others had come and for all intensive purposed killed humanity and everything else on Earth. I went to the bookcase and pulled it away from the wall. I had constructed a hidey-hole out of sight but easy enough for me to get to store my writings. Why I hid them I don’t know. I had already filled several notebooks with what had happened after the attack that changed the world, but I had no idea if anyone would ever read them. My father told me that before the attack people who believed in aliens were called crazy. The governments of the world had known different though, but kept everything top secret. Some world leaders had tried to communicate with the aliens. Others had built space defense systems. The attack came fast and hard. The space defense systems that were out there were completely ineffective, we never had a chance. Most people were caught off guard and many were dead before they ever knew what hit them. Those who survived had to live in a post-apocalyptic world worse than if thousands of nuclear weapons had been detonated. Whatever they nuked us with didn’t dissipate, it kept growing and soaking into what was left. If we dug down, it eventually caught us. Soon the very core of the earth would be dead and the rest of us survivors with it. “Why?” That is all everyone could ask. Why would they come and do this to us, to our planet? They were making it uninhabitable, so why destroy all the races on Earth if they couldn’t even use the planet afterwards. “I think that they did this before, to Mars at least and probably more planets out there. They come and destroy and then move on. Maybe the radiated planets can somehow give them a power source? It’s the only thing I can think of.” Her father had once confided in her. She didn’t think he had been wrong. The Reds destroyed as if for fun and then they just left us to die. As I came back to present, I started to write about the dwindling food situation. The lack of communication. The fact that the red continually spread and now it was never dark anywhere. Lost in my writing I jumped when I heard a random beep come from the computer station. “What the hell?” I quickly got up and went over to the screen that had blinked to life for the first time in forever. Message after message began coming across the monitor. They were coming in to the address that we had been broadcasting on every network that we could find. Apparently we were not as alone as we had thought. I immediately started to open the messages, eager to see who else still existed out there and contacting us. Bunker 117, we have heard your broadcast. Are you still there? Are there still survivors? Dependent on the number of survivors we might be able to pick you up immediately. Please reply. Time is short. The Earth will not last much longer, we have a plan. Please contact. Bunker 117, we have a ship. We have a means of escape, please contact so we can evacuate your location. I sat there blinking. Could any of this be true? Could there not only be other people out there, but could they have a ship? A means of escape? Why hadn’t we heard from them until now? Who were these people? So many things ran through my head. I didn’t even know where to begin my reply. “This is Bunker 117. We are still here. As of last count we have 31 survivors, but some scouts have not returned and they were due back yesterday, so we may be down to 27. Do you have enough room for that many survivors? Who is this? Why have you not contacted us before? I do not recognize the address from which your transmissions came from. We were once one of the largest outposts, we have heard from most colonies in the past. And what do you mean that the Earth won’t last much longer? How can you know that? Please send more information.” I sat there not knowing what else to do. There were probably tons of other things that I should be asking, but my mind went blank. I should go wake the others. The acting commander would want to know. Hopefully she would know what to do as well. Before I could move though, the screen started scrolling once more. We had no means of commination before. We are just now able to find survivor colonies. The message kept coming faster, I barely had time to think, let alone go get the others. The very core of the earth is heating up. The environment above ground is becoming more toxic by the moment. Several outposts have already succumbed to the even harsher climate. We are trying to save the precious few survivors that we can. We repeat, please send us your coordinates. So I did. Out of fear. Out of hope. Out of nativity. I ran back towards the sleeping quarters, yelling for everyone to get ready, we were being rescued at last. Just as people began to come out to see what I was yelling about, the sirens went off. The lookouts above ground came over the loud speakers in a panic. “Unknown flying objects have entered our airspace. Take cover. We repeat take cover.” Panic took over, even as I tried to yell over the chaos. “It’s got to be the people coming to rescue us! Everything is going to be okay!” Before anyone calmed down enough to listen, a rumble could be heard from above. Then the loudest noise that I had ever experienced shot through the bunker. Immediately I knew that I had been lied to and I had doomed us all. I wanted to apologize, but the noise grew louder and then everything went red.
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AuthorAuthor, artist, jewelry maker and all around creative person. I write in many genres and have a lot of fun doing so. Please take a look around and enjoy! Archives
January 2022
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