It happened without warning.
The bombs fell.
Everything fell to ruin.
And almost immediately
I forgot
what the sun looked like.
A cloud of soot
rose from the aftermath.
And the entire planet
became cold.
So cold, most of the plants died.
Food's been hard to come by.
And if that wasn't enough,
the heating of the stratosphere
destroyed the ozone layer.
So even without seeing the sun,
if I go out unprotected,
I'll be burned.
I'm cold.
I'm hungry.
I'm alone.
And this is my story.
This is how I survived 77 days
in a nuclear apocalypse.
I had to learn things quickly.
I put on my gas mask
and an old hoodie
and went outside.
Everything was covered in dirt
and soot.
And there wasn't a soul around.
I took shelter in an old,
long, unused subway station
that had been sealed off
from the public.
With radiation everywhere,
I knew
that would be
the least exposed place
I could find.
It'd be safe
while I tried
to find other survivors.
The further underground I went,
the safer
I'd be from any future bombs.
After all,
I had no way of knowing
if this was really over.
I set up an old
radio I found
in a security booth
and left it on.
If anyone was alive,
this was the only way I'd know.
I was lucky
to find an undamaged water
purifier
in an old warehouse store.
All the water sources had become
contaminated with radiation,
and I'd need it
if I wanted to live longer
than a few days.
I needed information.
I needed to know where
the bombs fell.
I couldn't risk
leaving in any direction
until I knew
there was somewhere safe
I could go.
I scanned the radio frequencies,
but no one was broadcasting.
I found some old agricultural
books in an indoor
greenhouse beneath
a local cannabis dispensary.
With any luck,
I'd be able to grow
my own vegetables.
Has to be better than the canned
beans I've been eating.
It's getting colder outside.
I found some old winter clothing
in a local mall.
Scavenging resources is
pretty much
all I can do for the time being.
I have to make my visits
to the surface count.
Going outside
has become incredibly dangerous.
The ozone layer was destroyed
by the heating
of the stratosphere
and as a result, UV
radiation is higher than ever.
Fortunately,
the danger of the nuclear
fallout was declining.
Within a couple of weeks,
the area would be safe
for travel and decontamination.
Though I'd still need to cover
my skin from the UV rays.
It was safer to
travel outside now,
so I sought high ground.
I needed to know
where the bomb hit,
and which direction to go.
I walked to a popular lookout
point that sat
just outside the city.
It wasn't hard to figure out
where the bomb hit.
The path of destruction
got increasingly worse
the closer you got to it.
I now knew
where to walk away from.
However, I didn't know
how far I'd need to go.
It was too dangerous to risk
moving forward
without proper supplies.
It was time to
stockpile everything
I could get my hands
on, everything
that could be safely
decontaminated
and prepare for my journey.
A month has gone by.
There's not been
another explosion
to my knowledge,
so whatever conflict occurred
was over.
But I hadn't heard or seen
from another survivor yet.
If this was a localized attack,
there would have been
rescue personnel.
This told me the damage
must have been widespread.
I needed to move quickly.
I began my journey
walking along the subway tunnels.
I knew
that would at least
take me out of the city
and keep me safe underground.
The subway cars had ceased
working due
to the EMP
from the nuclear blast,
just like all electronics.
When I reached
the end of the subway line,
I walked until I found
an old truck
on the side of the road.
I opened the back.
Inside
was the body of the driver.
Looked like
he tried to take shelter here.
Unfortunately, cars and vehicles
don't offer much
in the way of protection
from the fallout,
and this poor guy
choked to death.
The truck still worked.
I was lucky.
I kept driving away from
the blast.
The roads were littered
with debris
and broken down vehicles,
so I had to take things slow.
Still, it was faster than my feet
and I'd exert myself much less.
I’ve more or less gotten
out of the range
of the worst of the fallout.
By now, I'm
estimating I've driven
about 300 miles.
I won't be going much farther
though, not without more fuel.
And the gas stations
seem to be dried up,
which tells me one thing.
Someone else had
the same idea I did.
There are other survivors,
or at least there were.
I had no way of knowing
if they were still around,
but it was the hope
I needed to keep going.
I haven't found any
survivors,
but they've
definitely been nearby.
Most of the stores
I've looked for supplies
at have been looted already.
Hopefully it means
they're somewhere safe
and I just can't find them.
I'd like
to look in underground areas,
but I don't want to risk
going into any buildings.
Without regular maintenance.
Any structure
could crumble on top of me.
Best I avoid taking
unnecessary risks.
For now at least.
I just hope
whoever's out there is friendly.
But given
how we got into this mess,
I wouldn't
bank on others acting morally.
We need each other to survive
just as much as we don't.
Much to my surprise,
the truck radio kicked on today.
I couldn't believe it.
I replied immediately.
Risky, I know, but
it was riskier to go alone.
I drove the truck
to a community center nearly 600
miles from where I'd started.
Military medics looked after me
and checked my radiation levels.
Apparently, I was a lucky one.
I was just outside the blast
radius about 45 miles or so.
Had I been any slower
at seeking shelter, I'd likely
have succumbed to the fallout.
I'm told at my range
you have approximately 3 hours
to get to shelter.
Otherwise, well,
I'd rather not think about it.
I volunteered to assist with
recovery and rebuilding efforts.
I looked for other survivors,
people on the road
who might not have been able
to find us.
The military refueled my truck
and gave me
some uncontaminated clothing
to give to any survivors.
Anyone wandering in
this might have
had their outerwear
contaminated
with radioactive dust,
and we can't have that
entering anyone's lungs.
Any survivors we found
were promptly sent
to a showering facility
the military had built to ensure
any of their exposed skin
wasn't contaminated either.
It seemed like
we had things under control,
but the future was anything
but certain.
Even if there was no further war,
the repercussions of our exposure
to the nuclear bombs
would likely continue
long into the future,
not just on the land.
But it's well documented
that children born after exposure
tend to experience
genetic damage,
and even if they don't,
the chance
they might contract
cancer was a lot higher.
But there's nothing
we can do to change that now.
We have to keep moving forward.
Decontamination efforts began,
but it was unlikely
we'd be returning to our homes
anytime soon.
We were put into a government
housing project
not far from where we were.
It’d still be some time before
we'd have certain luxuries again.
But the rebuilding effort
had begun.
But honestly, I was just
glad to be alive.
Life wouldn't be the same again,
but at least
we might have a chance
for tomorrow.
And that's how I survived
77 days in a nuclear blast.