I reread the message more times than I can count, what did he mean by his past was too dangerous? Why didn't he just tell me what he was doing? What did the papers on his desk say? I put my questions aside for the moment. I reached into his desk and pulled out his old M1911 along with the two magazines he stores with it. I blew dust off the weapon and held it in my hand. The pistol weighed heavily in my hand, the cold steel a constant reminder that I now control a tool which could snuff out the life of a person in an instant with one pull of a finger, shaking my head, I tucked it into my jeans and stored the magazines in my back pocket. Whatever happened to my dad, I would need this to find out, however I silently prayed that I would never be forced to use it, before leaving the room. I gazed around at my surroundings taking one last long look at the place I've called home for the last two years, determined that I would return with my dad and everything will be okay again.
Walking over to the bunker door I began to rotate the gear to slowly unlock the door. I strained against the metallic gear waiting to hear the mechanical click as the massive door that lay between me and the dangers of the outside would be unlocked. When the sound arrived, I gave one last burst of effort into the door and slowly it creaked open. As it opened, the fresh light of day greeted me with a warm and gentle ray that I had not seen in what felt like an eternity. Its softness lay in stark contrast to the rest of the environment that was now before me.
For a second my determination wavered, for I knew that these wastes would be hard to survive. However, hard to survive is easier than impossible, as if I stayed in the bunker without food, I would be a goner in no time.
Shrugging off these thoughts, I took note of my surroundings, I was in my house, after all, the bunker was built in my basement. Calling it a house would be a stretch though, with the time, the house barely stood as parts of ceiling had collapsed in. While giant holes filled the walls, like some sort of a large ancient beast came and rampaged around collapsed rubble lay everywhere and a scent of rust tinged my nose. I began to wander around.
I meandered my way into the kitchen, it was complete mess all the fine China and dishes that were once so elegantly preserved now lay on the ground as just another piece of rubble for me to step around. I walked over to the table in our dining room and sat down. Years ago, me, my mom, Toby, and dad would sit here like a normal family and eat, laugh, and yell at each other. Now those memories seem straight out of a fairy tale.
I got up and began to make my way for the front door, passing by the bathroom I briefly glanced in and got a chance to look at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess and way too long for my comfort, the t-shirt I wore had a few holes in it and was evidently not the correct size. My skin was pale as if I had never seen the sun...wait that's because I haven't. Disregarding the sorry state, I was in I went back into the hallway, I found a picture sitting propped up on a small shoe rack in the hallway, the picture was a family photo taken just months before the world ended, without a second thought I picked It up and put it in my bag.
With that I opened the front door and made my way out into the world.