Short Story (Early Beginning to The Runner)

Here's a short blip I wrote when I was just starting The Runner. Instead of starting where this story begins, I chose to dive right in and start ten years after this takes place. Enjoy!

            All of us remember that day, even those who were infants when it happened. I was four at the time; not old enough to really know what was going on, but old enough to have some idea that our lives were about to change forever. 

            My mom asked me to light the candles. “Place a candle by each lamp,” she said, “That way when the power goes out it won’t seem that much different.” I did notice the difference. Light bulbs don’t flicker and I’ll never forget how quiet that first day was, at least, in between gunshots and explosions.

            We all sat in front of the television. We had to sit a bit awkwardly because my mom wanted to sit next to all of us. We had to squish ourselves together on the couch. Since I was the smallest, I sat in between my mom and my dad. My dad leaned in so his shoulder touched my mom’s and I was squished a bit, but I felt so protected in between both of them. My brother sat on my mom’s other side. He was six at the time and he leaned in too so that we really only took up a tiny bit of space becoming one huddled mass.

            Our entire house had become one big supply closet of sorts. I knew the power was going to go off and never come back on. I knew that mom had spent the past year storing food because I helped her. I knew that dad had been collecting weapons and teaching my brother how to shoot a gun. I wasn’t old enough yet, but my dad gave me a slingshot and said, “Never underestimate the damage a slingshot can inflict when used properly.” I could already kill a bird with it and mom never minded as long as we ate whatever I killed. Mom was getting pretty good at making bird pie.

            “Good evening America,” Mark Adams began. He was the newscaster we’d come to know and trust in the first few weeks after learning that our world was coming to an end.

            “Although we have been preparing for this day for over a year now, I know none of you will ever feel ready for what is about to happen. I know many of you miss your friends and loved ones who could not join us today, but remember that they will be taken care of as they live out the rest of their lives in the virtual Eden created by MaxGroup.”

            My grandparents had opted to enter MaxGroup’s Eden. They felt they had lived full lives and I overheard my grandmother telling my mom that she didn’t want to be a burden. “There’s no need to waste food and supplies on us when we can be provided for by the group.” I missed them.

            They showed a shot of the MaxGroup tower in Indianapolis, where my grandparents were now living and I felt sad. I missed them, but also the tower looked so cold, like an office building, not a home. There were hundreds of people lined up and armed guards made sure nobody did…I’m not really sure what they were trying to prevent.

            Next, they showed images from Eden. I’d seen these clips before: old couples eating plates of sweets, scuba diving in crystal clear waters, holding hands and walking on the beach, riding roller coasters. I asked my mom once why we didn’t go to Eden and she said that Eden wasn’t really living, just keeping you smiling until you died. I didn’t see the problem with that, but I could see that mom didn’t like to talk about it so I stopped asking.

“The rest of you have chosen to remain and face the outcome of what scientists have been calling ‘Mother Nature’s Revenge’. America. North America. Planet Earth. Now is the time for us to remain united. In order for the human species to survive this catastrophe we will need to look after one another. If we turn on each other now, I’m afraid this may be the end of humanity. This is, by far, mankind’s darkest hour and cooperation between neighbors, communities, and the globe will be the only thing to light our way into the future.”

            Dad seemed to remember that we were all unarmed and passed out our weapons. He handed me my slingshot and my pockets were already full of rocks. My brother got a gun. It wasn’t very big and dad made sure that my brother knew how to fire the gun, but also how to not accidentally shoot himself or anyone else. “If you accidentally shoot yourself or your sister, there won’t be any doctor to go to,” he reminded him morbidly.

The newsman put his finger up to his ear as if receiving news on his earpiece. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just received word that our five minute countdown has begun. In less than five minutes our president and other individuals of childbearing years, representing the races of our globe, will be sealed inside a secret underground vault nicknamed “Arc” until this catastrophe has ended. They are the last remaining hope of our species should none of us survive. After they’re safely sealed in the vault, the electricity will be cut around the globe.”

Mom explained that it was important to make sure the president was safe because when the catastrophe ended the new world would need a trusted leader. She also explained that there was a chance that none of us above ground would survive. She said that it would be important to make sure that every color person was protected in this vault so that the new world could represent all of us who didn’t survive. I wished that my family had been selected to go underground.

I remember the camera turned to show an opening in the side of a cliff with a thick steel door ajar. The president was waving to the cameras with a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Soon the camera began to shake and I thought the catastrophe was beginning, but then dad said that it looked like the cameraman was running. Mark was saying that he was sorry and soon the camera was past the president and inside the vault. Mom gasped and dad cursed and I noticed that everyone inside the vault was white, not every color like they promised. The men were so old and the women were so young and I wondered again why they didn’t select us, and then there was a gunshot on T.V. and the news went to static.  Then the lights went out.  I was glad I had lit the candles otherwise I would have been scared.  Mom and dad stood up and soon my brother and I did too.  It was so quiet.  There was a gunshot.  An explosion.  More gunshots.  More eerie silence.  My life had just changed forever.

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