“Well thing is, we’re all there is.”

“See, your problem is I don’t believe you.”

Natalie had been in the fallout shelter for all of an hour. The clock above the wall had 31 numbers, five hands and had barely moved. Luckily, her watch worked fine. For those three hours, her only company had been Harry. Harry had no possible chance of hooking up with Natalie outside of the bomb shelter.  This was Harry’s fallout shelter and Harry had invited her. The door was locked by either a timer or by some unknown failsafe device that was capable of judging radiation. In 9 out of 10 scenarios Harry was trying to get sex with a sleazy and absurd idea that they were the last two people on Earth. In 2 of 10, Harry was a horny super villain.

This was the worst club in High School and every moment Natalie was in the fallout shelter, she was more and more sure she was not getting any credit. Her first clue was that the football field size fallout shelter was on private property. Her second clue was that this club had a zombie contingency plan; any club that had the words destroy the brain or remove the head worked into the charter probably wasn’t sanctioned by the board of education. Finally, there was the fact that Harry (club president) was quite obviously trying to get in her pants.

Juliet appeared through a door in the wall that had just became evident. She wore an airsoft pistol at her waist because she was an officer, the only graduate of JROTC here.

“Julie, anyone ever tell you you’re a huge cockblock?” Harry asked.

“Yes my brothers, but there dead now, so no one living.”

“Now the mood is dead and you pissed on the corpse. Any news from elsewhere in the shelter?”

“We’ve found the piggy sir, it was Issac. Reeducation has begun.”

“God damn, a linebacker. Can’t trust anyone.”

“Wait, what’s a piggy?” Natalie interjected

“A whiny little bitch that symbolizes civilized man. Our experts believe the longer we keep him alive, the longer we can keep from descending into madness.” Juliet answered out of the manual, a spiral bound notebook.

“Wait, you plan to descend into madness?”

“No one plans to descend, one day a dog just tells you to do something and you feel obliged to follow his directions.” Harry exposited.

“Backtracking a bit, did you say reeducation?”

“Yes I did.” Juliet stood at attention.

“And that is?”

“We’re periodically calling him a pussy and berating his mother.”

With that Juliet left, back to reeducation.

“So, we’re going to die.” Natalie could be somewhat morose.

“Not necessarily, not if the coup goes as planned.”


“Joke my dear, nothing more.”

“Nuke or no, I wasn’t about to sleep with you.”

“Part of me knew that, but a man can dream.”

“Just remember, you don’t usually dream during blackouts.”

Harry left her to her idle threats and went to the ping pong tournament downstairs. As she stared at the clock above the door she got a feeling that the clock on the wall was on a longer count than her watch. There was a moment of remorse for all her friends outside and the apocalypse she imagined them dying in. Suddenly, ping pong sounded great.

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