A loud clang rang through the bunker as the door slammed shut.
“I really think we have a chance to win this thing!”
Greg’s voice echoed throughout the cold walls. The three other inhabitants of the bunker, Jeff, Ben, and Malcolm, all sat around a table playing cards.
“You think?” Malcolm asked, his statement muffled over the sound of a bomb dropping in the distance. Before Greg could reply, a loud robotic voice chimed in.
“Threat imminent; chance of survival 60%”
“Can you turn that down?” Jeff grumbled.
Greg obeyed, and walked over to a panel on the side of the bunker and turned a nob aggressively to the left.
“To answer your question Malcolm, yes, I really do think we have a chance to win this thing. In fact, it seems inevitable. And when we do win, we’ll finally be able to reshape this world and make it better.
“With nuclear power!” Ben interrupted.
The other three objected immediately.
“Woah, wait, I don't think so,” Jeff replied loudly, ensuring he was heard over the rest of the group.
“Yeah, why not renewable energy?” Malcolm chimed in.
“Gentlemen, please. There’s already existing energy infrastructure still standing, scattered throughout the land! We’ll simply use that,” Greg stated, authoritatively.
Another bomb fell outside the bunker, audibly closer this time. The computer voice cut in again.
“Threat imminent; chance of survival 45%”
Without prompting, Greg, who had been about to sit down at the table, turned on his heel in frustration and walked back over to the panel, turning the voice down even more.
“Let’s table the discussion of energy for the time being,” Greg said, as he finally sat down. On my way back, I passed a cattle ranch that seemed mostly intact. It got me thinking about how we’ll best be able to distribute food once we win.”
“Why would a cattle ranch make you think about that? It’s not like we’re going to be eating meat,” Ben chided, while Jeff nodded along.
“Well, let’s try to be realistic here,” said Malcolm, cautiously.
“Yeah, we can’t very well start out a new world as vegetarians,” Greg chuckled.
“You’re right, as vegans!” Jeff replied proudly. The other three shouted protests in response.
“Now that’s just unrealistic,” said Ben.
Another bomb sounded off, closer still; the computer voice responded so quietly, no one heard that chances of survival for those in the bunker were down to fifteen percent.
“Alright, this bickering is getting us nowhere. There will be much to decide once the war is won, and we need an effective way to do it.”
“What are you proposing?”
“I say we form a revolutionary council!” Ben stated proudly, standing up from his chair.
The other three nodded in agreement.
“Alright, but if we’re to make a council we must first make the necessary bylaws,” Greg shouted over a slew of bombs landing all around the bunker.
“Threat imminent; chance of survival naught; exit immediately!”
“Yes, bylaws are an absolute priority!” Malcom shouted in reply.
He pulled out a notepad and pen, and started to write something on the top of the page, not even looking up at a loud whistling noise coming from above.
“We found this in the rubble,” a young soldier said, as she showed the notepad to her commanding officer. The officer read it aloud.
“The Bylaws of the Revolutionary Council.”
The officer and the soldiers looked around at each other in confusion, surrounded by acres of land pulverized by the airstrike.
“Were there any survivors?”
“None.”
The officer looked at the notepad again. The rest was blank.
- Dylan James Harper is an author and teacher from Sonoma County, California. When he’s not grading papers or writing, he’s spending time with his wonderful wife, and their three acceptably behaved pets. His favorite flowers are sunflowers.