Self Apocalypse: The Beginning by John French

nightmare.  This wasn’t about economic recovery anymore.  It was about survival and ensuring the continued existence of mankind.
     
    The turning point was the night that some of the government stations fell silent and communications with most government facilities went dead.  It was almost unimaginable that it could even have occurred at all.  Confusion and unbelief still remains in the air, and no one was really sure where or how it even started.  There were some reports, but even then you didn’t know if it was truth or fiction.  What was truth was the obvious destruction and violent outbreaks that now encompassed us on a global scale.  The silence on that winter night was born after the first wave of nuclear missiles detonated in our country.  I’m not sure how many hits we took, but apparently most if not all of our major cities were gone.  Some military reports had leaked through and by the sounds of them, we were pretty lucky compared to some of the countries in Europe, Asia, and the Middle East.  I’m not sure who pushed the button first, but it seemed when we did we pushed a lot of them.  There were rumors of biological attacks too especially overseas, but like most news during those days it was second hand and frayed at best.  I guess the good news was it seemed that no country was in the position to attack us anymore.  Unfortunately I don’t think we were either, and with the continued silence I assumed we weren’t in the position to help ourselves either.
     
    The government station I was listening to at that time had finally evacuated for safety reasons due to the violence that was taking to the streets.  People were not holding back now.  With the sudden shutdown at pumps, and the halting of food distribution, things just went chaotic.  It seemed again we were just adding to the juice our own mixture making our situation worse than before.  The world was digging itself a deeper hole everyday, and that hole was now forming into a grave for us to all lye in.  Even in here in the peaceful town I once visited things were uneasy.  It may not have been outright genocide, but tension was building up and violent clashes had already taken place.  I had attempted getting into town for a little boost in supplies once the snow had melted.  I was stopped about two miles out by a family on foot.  They told me they had lost their car to a group of hostile individuals in need of the fuel in their car.  They lost everything in it, and had stated they felt lucky to have even been given the chance to walk away.  I had given them a ride to their home before deciding to get back to camp.  I was officially cut off from the world now.  As far as I was concerned I wasn’t going to go looking for trouble.  I had what everything I needed here, and would stay until some sort of news of hope worked its way back through the radio.  That was the connection I was searching for.  Some sign of stability taking hold once again.  I only hoped that we were going to be able to rebuild and not become a casualty, forever a whisper of what was once a great nation.
     
    I finished about half of the coffee pot by the time the fire died out.  I returned to the camper to get my hiking pack and rifle.  I grabbed some short supplies of food in case I stayed out, and then headed off into the woods in search of food.  I couldn’t help but ponder on my own situation.  I had spent so much time consuming my thoughts of the outside world over the last couple months that I neglected to spend time thinking on my food supplies.  Supplies that were now being eaten to a dangerously low level.  I had planned to be here two years.  By that time things were suppose to have gotten better not worse.  There wasn’t any hope of supplying in town, so the risks involved in going were not worth it.  I could ration enough to spread the summer, but winter was coming soon.  I would have to live off the land as much as I could and