"Nothing Left But Us"

by Jordan Rhames

Last week’s assignment was to write 10 microfiction stories, 100-150 words a piece. These stories should have a common metaphor, theme, or motif that ties them to one another.

Here is an accounting of the coming apocalypse from eighth grader Jordan Rhames. Perhaps the thing to fear is not what’s out there, but what’s in us…

Story 1:

Kaitlyn woke up to a crashing sound coming from outside her shelter. Half asleep, she grabbed her axe, and snuck behind the concrete wall protecting her from the wasteland that was the outside world. She peeked around the corner, and saw what appeared to be a mutated bear, sniffing for food. It had boils covering its whole body. Its spine had kinks and knots. It had five legs instead of the usual four. Glancing over, Kaitlyn saw her small stash of rations in the corner. It was all she had left. The military safe bases were destroyed years ago. Even the few survivors left were unwilling to trade for food, which was now more valuable than a life. Kaitlyn charged the bear, slashing its deranged, and twisted body. It clawed at her, a futile attempt at survival. Finally, it fell to the ground. Worms crawled in the spasming flesh, alive.

Story 2:

It was night. Ronan was on a tree branch, carving stakes from sticks with his knife. He made eight identical wooden stakes, with sharp tips. Sliding down the tree, he landed in a stream. The water reflecting the moonlight throughout the dark forest. He sat there for a few minutes, before striking one of the stakes into the ground, pulling it up with a bloody, rotting fish on it. Ronan repeated this process until he had eight fish, speared on the stakes. Walking back to camp, he recalled his siblings, starvation destroying their bodies and minds. A trail of blood ran behind Ronan. Four fish in each hand, scales bloody, the stakes tinted crimson. Twigs snapped under his feet as he finally arrived at their campsite. All three of his siblings sat in silence next to the fire. Noticing Ronan, they ran over to him, grabbing for the decaying fish.

Story 3:

Looking over her shoulder, Eva saw what remained of her brother after they were attacked by bandits. His snapped neck hung limply onto his shoulder, arm ripped off, and slashed legs. He was oh so confident he could protect them, promising his big sister that they would be okay. Now he was lying in his own frozen blood; the tips of his fingers turning blue. The wind bit into Eva’s skin. The bandits would be back any minute now, famous for cannibalizing the bodies of those they killed. They had already shown her mercy by letting her leave unscathed. If they saw her brother was gone, they would without a doubt change their minds. Eva ignored the pain in her nearly frozen body as she walked towards the forest, leaving the clearing her brother lay dead in.

Story 4:

Sarah vaulted a fallen branch, a pack of wolves close behind her. If she was being chased by wolves in any other alternate reality, she wouldn’t have been so horrified. The radiation destroyed the wolves bodies; they were twice the size they should’ve been and seemed to have a refined taste for human flesh. Their bones stuck out of their flesh, their teeth jagged like knives. Up ahead Sarah saw a river. On the bank were some broken boards. The only way she would have time to form the boards into a raft of sorts would be to slow down the wolves. Her backpack was weighing her down, but it had all of her food, clothes, and water in it. Throwing it behind her, she ran up to the river bank, grabbed the boards, and floated down the river, watching as the wolves ravaged her bag, leaving her for dead.

Story 5: 

Gripping his bag, Jay walked through the deserted town, flashlight in hand. Night was approaching, and he had to find a sufficient place to sleep. Seeing a school in the distance with both doors and windows, Jay ran up to the school, and opened the doors. Just as he walked through, he saw a child, laying on the ground. Setting down his bag, he circled around to the kid, only to see his horrendous face. The kid was young, likely only around 6 years old. He was definitely born after the nuclear war had started. His eye was swollen and his arms were short, stubby, and red. He was scratched up and had a bleeding lip. His nostrils were mere slits in his face. Jay glanced at his bag. As sorry as he was for this boy, he couldn’t afford to share his food with even one extra person.

Story 6:

Niv sat on a fallen branch, looking up at the stars. Glancing down, he saw his sister, Zareen, asleep on the ground. Niv walked around camp, peering into the dark. From his right, he heard a scream in the forest. It belonged to a girl. Just after, he heard a gunshot, followed by another scream. It was too dangerous to stay. Niv hurriedly grabbed his pack, and woke Zareen.

“There’s someone else here. They have a gun,” he whispered. Zareen didn’t speak, only nodded. Ever since the war started, she hadn’t uttered a word.  A second gunshot pierced through the silence as another blood-curdling scream was heard. They got up, Zareen picked up her stuff, and they headed off.

“Should we go back for them?” Zareen shook her head. He knew that the girl's chance of survival was slim. Still it felt wrong. Regardless, they walked off, slipping into darkness.

Story 7:

Sabrina sulked down the sidewalk, bored. Lately she had been in old neighborhoods, recalling what life was like before; when she had the internet, could make a quick meal in the microwave, and wasn’t so alone. Up ahead there was a bench. On it, sat a girl, crying. Running over, Sabrina sat next to the girl. Without saying a word, she offered her a granola bar. She was about to ask why she was crying before she, out of the corner of her eye, saw a man dead in the bushes in front of them. His jaw was hanging limply from his head, and his eyes were gouged out.

“Did you know him?” asked Sabrina. The girl nodded. Sabrina stood up and took her hand. She figured the man was her father. They walked away from the corpse, out of the neighborhood, over the hill and out of sight.

Story 8:

“At this point we should stop trying,” said Fletcher, “Lets just give up while we’re ahead.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Scotty remarked, “There is a gang chasing us, wanting nothing more than to decapitate us and display our heads on fence posts. Stopping now would be idiotic.”

“We’ve been running for days, weeks, who knows how long! They aren’t even following us at this point anymore. Those punks probably found some easier targets to attack.” Fletcher stopped in his tracks. “I’m not moving any more. This is stupid.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll go on my own. You can die for all I care. All you ever did was eat all our rations.” Scotty walked off ahead of Fletcher. Fletcher stood in place, while Scotty left his sight, leaving him with no food, no supplies, nothing.

Story 9:

Leon pulled on his gas mask. A bomb landed in this area a week or so ago. While he knew how dangerous it was to be walking freely in such intense radiation, it was the only choice he had. The rations he had stored up ran out 2 days ago. If he stayed any longer he would surely die. Walking out to an old grocery store, he broke open the doors using his bat. Leon knew that there was likely no food still left, but sometimes people used these buildings to take shelter in. With any luck, he may find an old stash of food left by survivors, or by residents in the area. Even if he gets radiation poisoning, at least he won’t die with an empty stomach.

Story 10:

Christina stood in the graveyard, crying. She should’ve known this would happen. When there’s no food, people were bound to dig up graves to see if there were any edible remains. All she wanted to do was visit her mother one last time. Christina’s arm had been cut off because she failed to comply with the government soldiers orders. She didn’t want to move to a safe zone. Now she had an infected arm, and cuts from branches as she was running away from them. Feeling weak, she crawled over to her mother’s grave, curled up beside it, and closed her eyes for the last time.