The Sole Soul

Aryan Menon

IMG

DAY 109 LOG 269:
I don’t know if I can survive like this. Food is scarce and hydration is limited to filtered urine.
Stock check: 16 energy bars, 3 glucose sachets, and a few MREs.
My companions in the bunker consisted of Dr Enrique, Dr Stein, and the cook, Donald.
Status update: They are all dead.
The signs of radiation outside have not subsided. No signs of life in my immediate radius.

Dr Max out.

 

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Dr Max switched off his computer and retired to his armchair in the corner. His lips were dry, his complexion pale and he was running a high fever. He was a nondescript man. He had bushy eyebrows, a nice thick head of hair, and circular glasses. He buried his head in his hands. His life’s work had led to this. He thought the bomb would be used for the protection of his nation. He never knew about the country’s intention of using it as a war dog. A slight malfunction and the world as we know it was gone.

The special bunkers were reserved for VIPs, scientists, and designated servants who would cook and clean for them. He missed his family. His willpower was tested at this dear time. At times, he wondered what if he was the only survivor on the planet. He started feeling hopeless; he was slowly being eaten away by the grandness of his failure. Silence dominated his bunker for the following hour.

He got up reluctantly and opened the entrance of the bunker. He dug through the dirt and reached the surface. He stayed up there and saw the land surrounding him. It was burnt, with some patches of green spread out inconsistently. The air seemed flat and there were no signs of life.

It was curious; the doctor was not experiencing any of the symptoms of…read more on NOPR