The Chosen Few
The day the world changed.
I used to joke that I could sleep through the end of the world. Turns out, I was right on the money. Life has never been the same since the day I slept through the actual Apocalypse.
“MOVE!!”
I was startled awake by something cold being pushed into my side. When I opened my eyes, there was a man — or I assumed it was a man — standing beside my bed, wearing a gas mask and shoving the barrel of a high-powered gun into my ribs. I had to be dreaming, right?
“I said, MOVE!”
His gloved hand reached down and gripped me by the shoulder. I wasn’t dreaming.
I sat up, as instructed, and that’s when I realized that he wasn’t alone. There were two other men dressed in the same fatigues, masks and all, standing in my bedroom. The gun was removed from my side and the weapon-wielder took a step back from my bed. I took that as my cue to get up.
The man who had been standing in the corner stepped forward and held out his hands, offering me a similar set of fatigues to the ones they were all wearing. “Get dressed,” he told me and all but forced the ugly garments into my arms.
I had so many questions, but it didn’t seem like now was the time to ask them. Tentatively, I put the clothes down onto my bed and picked up…
