The Survivalist

The Survivalist

Bob sat in the small dark room oblivious to the stale air and the heat. His attention was fixed on the small flickering screen.

"For the last two years, the minute hand of the Doomsday Clock stayed set at three minutes before the hour, the closest it had been to midnight since the early 1980s. In its two most recent annual announcements on the Clock, the Science and Security Board warned: “The probability of global catastrophe is very high, and the actions needed to reduce the risks of disaster must be taken very soon. On behalf of the Science and Security Board, it is with great pleasure that we officially announce that we are moving the hands back two minutes to 11:55!" The assembled group of scientists beamed out of the television screen at him.

As Bob watched, the hands were moved backward amidst applause. "Doomsday Clock!" he spat. "What do those idiots know?"

Bob had lived through the threats and counter threats of the Russians during the 1950’s. His parents had built the bomb shelter he now called home in preparation for the destruction of man. Even then, Bob knew that the apocalypse was approaching. Now, he was bombarded daily with stories of ISIS and Al-Qaeda or some other terrorist group building a device that would destroy the world.

"It's inevitable," he murmured to himself. "That idiot American President is now talking about arming the Japanese and the Koreans with nuclear weapons. Insanity has taken over the leadership of the world. The end is near!”

Bob rubbed the bump where the latest injection had been given. His ultimate defense was well on its way. He picked up his journal and began writing.

Day 27: The nausea has passed and I find myself hungry most of the time. The only lingering side effects seem to be a blurring of my vision, although “blurring” may not be accurate. It’s more like a “hall of mirrors” effect where I see multiple images. The light sensitivity remains but my night vision seems to have improved to the point where I can see perfectly well in almost total darkness.

Years of research had gone into preparing for this day. He had studied a myriad of alternatives to ensure his survival. So many dead ends. It was almost by accident that he had stumbled upon the solution. It was literally staring him right in the eyes one night.

With a flash of insight - a true "ah-ha" moment - he recognized the answer and devoted himself to that single purpose. He had spent years raising money and funding research – much of it illegal – but he didn't care. Survival was his obsession.

Walking across the room, he awoke his sleeping computer and peered at the magnetic resonance images that he'd had done. "Perfect," he said. He could see the fine lines of chitin forming a shell under his skin. Soon, his armor would be in place and he'd be impervious to everything.

Such is the price of being prepared, he thought. I guess there are worse things than becoming a cockroach.

An entry for the March round of "Distorted Minds Contest" 
Prompt: Write an apocalyptic story from a bug or animal's point of view
Word Length: 500 – 3000
Word Count: 540