The Last Day on Earth

“May as well,” Bill said. Lucy just shrugged. She wasn’t very hungry. She supposed the impending destruction of your world was a great appetite killer. She wondered how people on Death Row in America could stomach eating those lavish last meals that they ordered.

Lucy watched her mother busy herself making scrambled eggs. They were lucky, luckier than most. Her parents lived on a farm, and they still had power from the old diesel generator Bill had kept for the rather frequent times the power went out even before everything went to hell. They had running water from the bore, and plenty of fresh food; more than enough eggs from the chickens and ducks, milk from Mildred and Daisy the goats, fruit from the orchard, veggies from Liz’s vegetable garden and thanks to the generator, the freezer full of meat was still good. Lucy reflected that they were lucky the asteroid wasn’t coming in winter, and that they were in the southern hemisphere. Luck was relative, she supposed. Then she felt guilty, because her sister was in the northern hemisphere and probably dealing with snowstorms. There would be no fruit trees or overflowing vegetable gardens for Claire and her family.

Liz dished up the scrambled eggs. Bill dove into his with enthusiasm, while Lucy just pushed hers around her plate. She watched her parents eating, and the thought that this was the last breakfast she would ever share with these two wonderful people brought a lump to her throat.

Bill finished his eggs and cleared his throat.

“Now, Liz, Lucy,” he paused to wipe his mouth. “I know you don’t think there’s any point, but I’ve reinforced the old bomb shelter and stocked it-”

“Oh, Bill…” Liz sighed. “This one’s going to be bigger than the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. We’re not going to survive it.”

“We might, we might not.”

“We won’t,” Lucy chimed in.

“Well we definitely won’t if we’re not prepared. They don’t know how bad it’s going to be. Jim Schmidt said-”

“Jim Schmidt! That old crackpot! He also told me the moon landing never happened, and thinks Elvis is still alive!”

“Well, no denying he’s got a few screws loose, but he was a science teacher for forty years. He’s not deluded about everything. He does knows a thing or two. He said it depends where the damn thing hits. If we get lucky and survive the initial hit, and the fires, and earthquakes, and the tsunamis, and whatever else the damn planet throws at us, there’ll probably be one of those nuclear winter type things. We won’t be able to grow bugger all for years. If any people or animals do survive, most of ‘em will starve.”

“Reassuring picture you’re painting there, Dad.” Lucy rubbed her face. “This one’s too big. We’re toast.”

Bill sighed and shook his head.

“How much stuff have you got squirrelled away down there?” Liz asked, looking at Bill shrewdly.

“Enough for about five years… if we’re careful.”

“Geez, Dad, how long have you been planning this? And why didn’t you tell us?”

“About six months. When I first started hearing the rumours. I knew you two would tell me to stop and that it was pointless, and stupid. At first I thought you’d just tell me it was another beat up like that whole Y2K thing, then when they finally admitted it, well… you just seemed so certain that we were going to die. I thought you’d tell me to stop.”

“You’re right. I would have.”

“Please, Elizabeth. Please don’t give up on us yet. I really think we have a chance here.”

Lucy looked back and forth between her parents. Liz just shook her head.

“Don’t be so cruel, Bill.”

Lucy decided to leave her parents to it, and got up and left the kitchen. She went into the laundry and checked on Matilda. Four little mewling black and grey fuzz balls surrounded the grey cat. She’d finally had her kittens. Great, Lucy thought.

Lucy gave the contented new mother a quick scratch behind the ears, looked a moment longer at the new kittens, and then went out to the verandah and curled up in the old rocking chair. It had been her grandmother’s favourite thinking spot. Lucy had adopted it ten years ago after Grandma Ina had died.