Phillip Kendall woke in the darkness in a cold sweat, as the thunderous crack of the storm jolted him from his tormented sleep. His rugged features now strained and worn glistened to the rhythmic beat of time as the blue indigo lights on the radio flickered in the darkness of the bunker .
His frantic pulse pounded in his head like drums of war as he tried to get hold of his thoughts. How long had it been he thought—had it been hours, days, or even weeks since he took refuge in the bunker of the abandoned ranch house that once belonged to his father.
He struggled to his feet and released the hydraulic cylinder of the two-ton blast door, and he headed to the surface. He stood in horror as he gazed toward the city just a few miles away. The sky was burnt ash, and glowed eerily as flickers of destruction illuminated the sky of the burning city. Phillip fell to his knees as the pale wind of August brought with it the stench of decay. He threw back his head and his body clenched as he cursed the harbinger of death that had brought with it only destruction.
It began to rain, and as these heavenly tears fell from the sky they washed away his fear and his body went limp, as if to say, I give up. As he lay there, he heard a glimmer of hope crackle from the bunker below. The radio hissed, and in a broken voice, the announcement came: To all survivors, make your way e-st, to gr-nt-wood, there will be shel-er, fo-d, medical -sstanc…. Phillip hadn’t caught all the message before the radio fell silent, but he knew he must head east, he must find others, and he must find a way to help.
Phillip was a scientist, and he knew the government was going to need his help fighting the thing that came from the sky.
Terry A. Elkins (whyguy)
This is another story I have been working on, for now, just a taste.