The Apocalypse Playground: Chasing death

Chapter Two

The first one had landed two years ago. Scientists classified it as an asteroid and claimed that the event was nothing to worry about. The impacted area was tagged a scientific marvel, and the owners of the land began profiting from it when people started traveling from all over the world to witness this so-called marvel. This was only fair given that the impact of the asteroid had destroyed a large portion of the land, killing every crop within its vicinity. Soon after, however, the government declared that the area was out of bounds; property of NASA.

There were rumors afterward. Some scientists had come forward with disturbing information; no one had predicted the arrival of this space object. People began panicking. After all, if an asteroid could simply fall from the sky with no warning, what else could follow a similar directive?

By the time the second one landed, the government had succeeded in calming people down. A formal statement from NASA assuring the world that no other space object would collide with earth soon had been released. Almost everyone had gobbled this statement up, placing their faith in the hands of space experts. Besides, who would want to believe that an apocalypse was a probable phenomenon? Well, no one except my father. The day after the asteroid landed somewhere in the South of Texas, my father designed a plan that would keep us safe should a more dangerous object collide with earth. The ploy involved the building of a bunker and the stacking of supplies. My mother was put in charge of food and toiletries while my older brother was given the responsibility of procuring weapons and water. I, on the other hand, was in charge of entertainment. My brother immediately started to make fun of my duty, but my father swooped in, claiming that no amount of food and water could help a deteriorating mind. Books, films, magazines, music, and indoor games were a way of protecting our sanities. It was at this point that we all assessed the severity of this “what if” situation. If something deathly did hit the world, how long would it take for us to rebuild it? How many would survive? How long would we be forced to stay in our basement? My father was in charge of refurbishing our basement into a haven and fixing our old, battered generator. It took him a month to finish, and as soon as he was done, the rest of us started to equip the bunker. Within a week, our haven had enough supplies to last us a year. We tried warning the others, mostly relatives and neighbors, to do the same. Most of them repeated what NASA had said and called us insane for not believing the government. Some actually heeded us and began preparing for another space object incident.

Last year, the second one had landed. Those who saw it said it had been small at first, but as it neared the ground, it grew bigger and bigger, and then…it burst into flames. The scientists identified this one as a comet. Those who had not prepped for the event died when it landed on the ground. After the impact, the comet released debris that went on to ignite a plethora of cities globally and forests as well. The aftermath was just as awful, with the smoke and dust from the landing creating some sort of horrific winter. The sun vanished for weeks which severely affected surviving crops and animals. There was also acid rain which killed a bunch of animals who lived in water and destroyed the rest of the vegetation.  Most scientists, including the ones who had been working at NASA, had in fact prepared for this ordeal. They claimed that what the world was experiencing was called impact-winter.

When the worst of it was over, people began to emerge from their havens to assess what their new lives would comprise. So many lives had been lost, so much property destroyed. Months later, the stored food and water started to deplete. Raids began to frequently occur as people searched for bunkers that still had edible food and consumable water. Most of my relatives and friends died during these raids. When they had come for our supplies, my brother and father had been armed to the tee. None of them were able to lay a finger on our stuff. Unfortunately, two of them had survived and seen that we still had a lot of food in the bunker. The next time they showed up, they killed my father and took all of our stuff. Thankfully by this time, the world was starting to get back on its feet.

The new rulers were not government members or scholars; they were wealthy businessmen who had owned panic rooms years before the Apocalypse. These are the same men who financed NASA and therefore knew how severe this situation of space objects had been. Within a few months, they had assembled every living thing into one region and termed this surviving civilization as the “New World”. Houses were built for prominent families, while the rest of us were placed in camps. No one complained. While we had used all of our savings to buy supplies for the impending Apocalypse, they had invested in innovating technology that could rebuild the economy. They had the power to avail themselves and us with food, water, utilities, electricity; you name it. WIC had been in the center of it all. So yes, when we were given gray uniforms and told to enter a given tent, we did not complain.

That was the way of life; we were puppets with no real worth tied to our names. And for a while, I had no problem with this. Until a kid named Ron started calling me little fucker.

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“Water…”

“Really, kid? I just told you you are going to die, and you still asking for water?”

“Yes, I do not want to die thirsty.”

Snow let out a hefty sigh. I could tell that he regretted putting his cigarette off.

“When is the execution?”

Have you told my mother and brother yet?

I could not bring myself to ask this. They would be devastated. Well, my mother would, my brother would let rage consume him, and then he would do something incredibly stupid.

Oh no.

What would happen to my mother if Jacob went rogue and actually killed someone?

“I can’t die, Snow. Do you hear me? I can’t die!”

“Has it finally hit you that you are going to die?”

I bobbed my head.

“Are you afraid of death, Blake?”

“No.”

The response had come out curt and quick. It was the truth. I had no particular desire to continue living in this wretched world.

“If you are not afraid of dying…why the sudden change in mood?”

“There are certain things worse than death Snow…”

We silently looked at each other for a while. Snow’s white eyebrows were knitted, his forehead creased. There was this sparkle in his eyes, something that had not been there when he first entered the room.

“There is a way of escaping the death penalty.”

I c****d my head.

“Ever heard of the Playground?”

I nibbled my lower lip and shook my head. Snow let out another sigh; there was something different about this one. It was heavier, more ominous.

“If you want to live, you have to survive this place. Emerge the winner, and the death penalty will be scrapped off your record entirely.”

It took me a while to notice that Snow had stood up and was now walking towards the door.

“Wait, what do you mean survive the place?”

Snow paused at the door and fiddled with his unlit cigarette.

“Blake, if you win this, your family gets a house. No more camp life. No more stressing over what will happen if another comet strikes. Win this, and you save yourself and your family.”

Snow began closing the door. I struggled to get off the floor; I had so many questions to ask him.

“One more thing, you will not be playing by yourself you will have teammates. If one of them dies, if one of them is left behind. You all lose. You all die.”

The door closed with a silent thud.

What the f**k just happened?