Imagining World War Three
A short story about a young boys active imagination.
Kyle Emery was a typical fourteen year old boy except for the fact that he had an over-active imagination. He lived in an older Victorian style home in the middle of Nebraska. The home came with a fallout shelter buried in the back yard. A remnant of the 1960’s cold war era.
Kyle had taken it over a couple of years ago. It was the next best thing to a tree fort in a yard with no big trees. On this particular day, Kyle was happily roll playing…
“Here I am in my underground bunker. North Korea, for some unknown reason decided to test one of its nuclear bombs by exploding it over its neighbor to the South. The South Koreans retaliated with everything they had and since they were allies of the west, The United States was obligated to help defend them. They in turn dropped a nuclear bomb on North Korea.
“China was unhappy with that and sent several nuclear devices toward the United States. One was destroyed in flight. Two of them made it. One exploded over Washington D.C. And the other over Huston, Texas. Turning both cities to pure rubble.
“The united States then sent an abundance of nuclear missiles back to China. The world was in chaos. Everyone ran for cover. I ended up in this shelter alone. I’ve been here for a month now and my rations are beginning to run low. I may have to venture outside before too long to search for food.
“ Before this all happened,” thought Kyle, “I had heard stories of how people would starve to death. The food would be all gone and people were all desperate for something to eat. Men would band together and go out looking for whatever they could find. The animals had all been eaten and bugs were hard to find. People were digging in the ground for worms and grubs.
“Eventually, the unthinkable started to happen. People started to hunt and kill other people and eat them. You didn’t want to be caught outside alone. If you were, you would probably become dead meat.”
“I’m not sure if I want to stick my head out of this shelter. I may not like what I see. I’m alone and in good shape. I’m sure I’d be good eatin’ if I got caught. I have nothing to defend myself with. I should have thought about that when I stocked this place. Now I’m defenseless against those bands of roving men out looking for human food. Maybe I could join them. Then again, maybe not. I don’t think I want to eat people. I don’t want to gnaw the meat off their dead bones. ”
Just as Kyle was deciding to come out of his shelter, his mother knocked at the door and brought him back to reality.
“Kyle, are you in there?” It’s time for supper. Your father’s made us barbecued ribs.”
Kyle’s eyes grew wide. “Ribs?”
© Copyright 2019 by Scott A. Gese All Rights Reserved.