A Story With No Name







I wake to a cold blast of air. I must have drifted off during my shift. I check my watch and it reads 2:30. I still have an hour and a half left in my shift. I look down from the metal outpost. 40 feet below I can see our bunker. It looks cold, dark, nothing more than a fortified garage. It doesn’t look like it could protect us from much but its held up fine the past 5 years despite the constant battering. I look around, now fully awake. I place the gun to the side and get up out of my chair. The post sways with my movement but I’m accustomed to the creaking of the supports below.

I look over the town, from here I can see everything. I look over the old shopping mall. Once teeming with people, now reduced to a grassy field. That was one of the first places people rushed to when the “End of the World” announcement came. Perfect sense right? Wrong. When the announcement came, everyone flocked to the stores. It was complete anarchy. Hundreds and hundreds of people cramped into one tiny space. One hell of a way to get an entire town infected. Lucky for us, me and my friends knew better. We had planned this for years and when it came, we were ready.

The unforgettable stench of rotting flesh brings me back to reality. I pick up my gun and sit back down, positioning myself as I have been for 5 years. I look down the scope and focus in on the small horde. Only 5 or 6 of them, not much of a threat. I sit back in my seat and relax. I watch them slowly shuffle down the street. I smile to myself as one stumbles and falls as the others walk right over top of it. They’re mindless beasts, their only focus is fulfilling their insatiable hunger. I see motion below. A lantern swings back and forth and I hear someone ascending the ladder to the outpost. I am shortly joined by my friend, Brendan. “What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?” I ask.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep too well…”

“Let’s chat, I could use the company.”

“Thanks, Bro.”

“Anytime. So is it just you, or is everyone up?”

“Everyone but Liam. You know him, he’d sleep through an earthquake”

I laugh at the remark, savoring the chance to let go of the present.

“True. So what’s everyone else doing?”



“I don’t know, talking or cleaning their weapons or something.”

“You didn’t feel like chatting?”

“Not really.”

“Why not? You’re usually the most talkative one here.”

“I guess I’ve just been a bit stressed lately.”

“Lemme guess, Shortage of supplies?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“It’s not hard to figure out. You’ve been limiting everyone’s rations and conserving ammo like a commie.”

“Hahaha is it that obvious?”

“Not really, I’m just very observant.”

“I’ll remember that next time.”

“So what are we gonna do about the shortages?”

“I don’t know. We will probably have to go on a raid again next week. Not a big one, just like four or five people.”

“Next week?!? But that’s during a government sweep! We’ll have the Fed’s on our heels the whole raid! Not to mention the nearest military base is five miles away!”

“I know it’s risky, but what else are we supposed to do? We need food soon and you know as well as I do that a hungry team is a dead one.”

“Fine, who do you think you will be sending?”

“Probably you, me, Liam, and Ian. We can’t afford any screw ups.”

“Alright fine, but we’re taking my truck… we need more space for supplies, plus I just finished installing the last of the armor. It’s a downright tank now.”



“Okay, have it your way.”

There’s a long silence as neither of us has anything to contribute to the conversation.

“... Hey, Brendan? You ever think if this will ever end?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Day after day it’s the same thing. Eat, fight, hide, sleep, repeat. Do you ever think that our lives will be like this forever?”

His expression suddenly becomes extremely sober and I get the feeling this isn’t the first time he has thought of this. After a minute of silence he says, “We each have our own story, none of us knows what’s in store. Do I think that this living hell will end eventually? Yes. But we may not live to see it. Right now we must focus on survival.”

He gets up to leave. As he walks through the door I say, “Don’t stay up too late, It’s your shift in an hour and by the looks of it, you need all the sleep you can get.”

“Thanks, you too.” he replies and climbs down from the outlook.

I sit back and think about what he said. He’s right we each have our own story. They all have to end at some point. I look out over the remains of my home town and think to myself, I want to know what’s in store for me but Hayes is right. No one knows what’s in store, we just have to focus on survival. We’ll live through this. We have to.

This is my story, and it’s a story with no name.