IV. Old Betty

I awoke to pitch blackness.

Slowly, all previous events came back to me; escaping from the apartment building, then hiding in the bomb shelter.

I slowly stood up, my arm searching in the air for something to balance on. I tripped over some large, square lump on the floor, my elbow slamming painfully into the cement wall. I squeezed my eyes in pain, taking a few steps back so I could stand up straight.

I walked a little more carefully this time, scouting along a wooden shelf I had discovered for some type of flashlight. All my mind focused on was getting out of there, the stuffy, musty air filling my nose and causing my throat to clench painfully. After some time of passing what must have been a dozen cans of non-perishable foods, my fingers clenched around the plastic handle of a large, nine volt battery flashlight.

Click!

The shelter lit up as the beam from my flashlight played across the walls, revealing more and more of the ancient retreat. Everything was silent except for my heavy breathing, which I could hear reverberating in my ears as I walked around the concrete enclosure. The walls were adorned with tall, wood and metal shelves, which held a few old flashlights and moldy cans of supposed non-perishables.

Maybe the world's destroyed, and I'm just soaring through empty space towards the sun and complete oblivion, I thought. Shrugging, I climbed up the wooden ladder towards the double cellar doors. I'd rather die in the cold pits of space then burned alive.

Throwing the doors open, my eyes were assaulted with the bright light of the afternoon sun. Crawling out onto the ground, everything seemed to be the same way it had been before I went into hiding.

Looking up, I saw the top half of my apartment complex missing. I blinked for a moment, when the only thing occurring to me was: at least my apartment's still intact.

Walking towards the old, rickety fence surrounding the yard, I peered over it. The streets were no longer visible; the debris from collapsed buildings covered everything, most small stores and shops buried under immense blocks of cement and metal. There was complete silence, except for the dead whistle of a cool breeze.

Struggling to pull myself up onto the fence, I toppled over it and landed on my back on the other side. Dusting my now gray shirt off, I brushed a hand through my frizzy, knotted blonde hair and began to walk. Having no idea where I was going, I stepped over large blocks of brick wall and ripped support beams. I felt my pants catch on a jagged edge, ripping a hole up to my shin. I had no reason, no place to go, nothing to look forward to. Hills of destroyed buildings stretching off in every direction, I had no choice except to walk.

As I trekked, I saw an immense blast of blue light shoot up into the sky and disappear in a bright flash. The ground below me began to rumble, knocking a few large chunks of concrete loose near the still-standing radio tower. I climbed over a large particle board wall, watching debris tumble haphazardly through the city.

This happened numerous times as I walked, until I became so tired that I cut myself just about every other step I took. This went on, until my dull thoughts were interrupted by a low humming.

Some feet in front of me, a red scrap of metal buried beneath the rubble was vibrating on regular intervals. Intrigued, I moved the wreckage as best I could, revealing the roof of a small, red truck.

And it was still running.

Pulling away most of the blockading chunks of cement, I pried open the truck's sunroof and dropped inside. There was nobody inside, luckily, but the keys were still in the ignition. It still had half a tank of gas, and despite the ripped and worn away plastic seats, I made myself comfortable.

Glancing through the windshield, I saw a mildly clear path between two large walls of debris. I turned the key in the ignition roughly, applying the gas as hard as I could.

The truck took off, getting at least a foot of air as it hit a flattened desk lying in our path. I rolled down my window, grabbing the door with my hand for support as it bounced against the vehicle. The end of our straightaway came into view much too quickly, causing me to slam on the brakes.

Disobeying my commands, the truck flew up an almost vertical ascent, tripping and bumping along a path of jagged edges and hunks of plywood and furniture. Reaching the top, I quickly swerved the vehicle around a jutting desk lamp. The tires hit a door, which aimed up like a ramp and sent us flying into the air.

It wasn't much longer of this four-wheeling until we reached the edge of town. The entire time, I had not seen one other live person. With my spirits destroyed, the truck - Old Betty - and I ambled off a mountain of concrete and onto a little dirt road leading away from the death site.