The Last Day on Earth

Lucy felt around in the back of her wardrobe and found an old bag. She plucked her favourite novels off their shelves and put them in the bottom of the bag. It was strange thinking about the possibility of tomorrow, albeit a vastly different tomorrow, after over a month of thinking that oblivion was her only possible future. She tried to think practically. She didn’t allow herself any more room for sentimentality, other than a handful of photographs and a gold bangle that her grandparents had given her when she’d graduated from high school. She looked over her clothes and picked out some of the sturdier looking pieces to join the books in the bag. Her journal and an unopened packet of pencils went in the top of the bag. She threw a last glance around the room, then walked out, shutting the door firmly behind her. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been. She could still hear her mother rustling around her bedroom.

Lucy walked out to the laundry to grab Matilda and her kittens, but the box was gone. Lucy took one last lap of the house she’d grown up in. Memories threatened to flood her. She allowed herself to wallow for a minute before ruthlessly closing her mind to the clamouring thoughts.

She stood outside and waited for her mother. The moon had risen. It was almost full and lit the landscape with its silver glow. Apart from a quick glance at the moon, Lucy kept her eyes firmly earth-bound. She didn’t want to risk seeing her death hurtling toward her. Her mother came out carrying two large bags. They didn’t speak, merely nodded at each other. Together they walked across the dark yard, through the orchard to the old bomb shelter. A warm glow emanated from the opening of the shelter. Bill was waiting for them.

Lucy blinked as her eyes adjusted. The last time she’d been in the shelter it had been mostly empty and full of dust and cobwebs. Now it was clean, brightly light and full of boxes and supplies. There was a comfortable old couch that used to live in their playroom, a little kitchenette up against one of the walls, a dining table, Claire’s old desk, and bookshelf full of survival books. The box with Matilda and her kittens sat high on a bench, out of reach of the dogs that milled about. It seemed bigger as well, even with all of the extra stuff in it.

“Oh, Bill.” Her mother and father had followed her in. Lucy dropped her bag and walked to the end of the shelter. There was a new door.

“What’s behind here?”

“Sleeping areas, a toilet, and another supply room.”

“Wow, Dad.” Lucy was shocked. This was much more than she’d been expecting.

“Like I said this morning, I think I’ve got enough down here to last us a few years, and I’ve got all sorts of seeds so we can replant if we get the chance to…” he faltered off. Lucy and her mother were both staring at him.

“What?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Oh, Bill. This is amazing.” Liz bit her lip and Lucy knew she was trying not to cry. Lucy watched as her mother turned around and buried her face in her father’s shirt. Lucy quickly strode over and hugged both of her parents.

“Dad, I… this is… wow… I wasn’t expecting this. I hope it wasn’t all for nothing. You’ve put a lot of effort in here.”

“Well, we’ll find out soon one way or the other,” Bill said. He led Liz over to the couch. Lucy trailed after them. She made herself comfortable in between her parents. The dogs made themselves comfortable at their feet. Liz gripped both Lucy and Bill’s hands tightly in hers.

They sat. And waited.

About the Author

R.M. Allinson is an Australian author. She grew up in a teeny tiny town called Noorat (which is no longer even officially a town as of the 2011 census) in rural Victoria and graduated from Monash University in 2008, with a very useful Bachelor of Arts. After back-packing around Europe and North America in her early twenties, she somewhat accidentally ended up living in Vancouver, Canada for the past 3 years.

Along with Canada and Australia, she’s also called Japan and Kiribati home (if you know where Kiribati is without looking at a map, you get a lollipop) at various points in her life. When not writing, you can usually find her either with her nose in a book, hiking or skiing in the North Shore mountains, at a gig, tending to her balcony jungle, or stalking the pets page on craigslist and day-dreaming about the day they move to a pet-friendly building.

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Copyright

Copyright © 2013 by R.M. Allinson

All rights reserved.