Biohazard

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When the world ended on Thursday, October 17^th, everyone ran blind and screaming with panic that it had finally happened, that Armageddon had finally been visited upon the sons and daughters of man. The optimistic were shocked; the pessimistic vindicated. The religious said it was the time of the Rapture. So as they waited for Jesus to call them home, the rest of us concentrated on staying alive.

No easy thing with the fallout.

The marauding militias.

The roving gangs.

The National Guard and special police units whose job it was to put them both down. Martial Law was declared country-wide. People were gunned down in the streets. Raped. Murdered. Assaulted. It went on and on.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, by the end of the first week?seven days shy of Halloween?nuclear winter descended just as the theorists had always predicted. So much dust and debris had been tossed up into the atmosphere that the sun did not come out for almost a month. It was sheer blackness during that time and bitter subzero cold. And snow. It snowed for weeks on end. Nobody would ever know how many were killed off in those dire freezing weeks.

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