My current work in progress deals with bunkers, bomb shelters, and end of the world scenarios. (You can read the first unedited chapter HERE).
Because I'm not super familiar with any of these things, I've had to do quite a bit of research not only online but I've also had the privilege to tour the inside of an bomb shelter at our local emergency preparedness store.
Since a good portion of the novel takes place underground in a shelter, I wanted that first hand experience and get a feel for what it may be like. It's actually quite cool and more comfortable than you might think a metal bomb shelter could be.
My husband, in an effort to be helpful, decided that we should watch a show on NETFLIX called DOOMSDAY BUNKERS.
As we were watching these incredible shelters being built and bomb doors being tested, I noticed that most of the people who were requesting these shelters were... shall we say it?... quite extreme and had quite the supply of weapons and ammunition at their disposal. A bit terrifying really (these are the people who will be ruling the world in the end).
I looked at my husband, "We're screwed when the end of the world happens, you know that right?"
My husband, "We have a rifle."
"But we only have two bullets, right?"
He didn't say anything.
I don't even know where these two bullets are, and since there is a lock on the rifle that I have NO idea how to remove, I will have to use our only weapon as a bat. Not good.
I tried pointing out that we needed to be better prepared like the crazy people on the show--we need to give ourselves a better chance of survival than ZERO percent. I started tossing out ideas, saying we should start collecting big knives, swords, and crossbows--think Daryl Dixon and Michonne.
My husband actually said, "You're not a sword or crossbow person."
"Okay, then what kind of person am I?" I was expecting him to say something cool like grenade thrower or machine gun blaster...
"You're a victim," he said without batting an eye."That's what you'd be. A victim."
This may sound cruel, but we both actually started laughing, because this is probably an accurate depiction of the kind of person I am, and we both know it. I can hardly play games like RED DEAD REDEMPTION or THE LAST OF US without feeling a great deal of anxiety and the need to flee (fight or flee..I will flee and cower every time). So how in the world would I manage a crossbow or hatchet? I'm not even sure I could wield a bat successfully. What kind of a survivor would I be? You can read more about it HERE.
But just to put it out there, now that you know we have only one weapon in our house and two bullets that can not be located, WE HAVE NOTHING of value here. So don't pillage us. It's not worth your time. I promise. My husband is a vegan and my daughter is a vegetarian, so even our food sucks (just ask my boys- they'll tell ya). Like okra? That's what you will find if you bust down my door. Lots of okra.
Maybe by being unprepared and sticking a sign on our door that says, "VEGAN HIPPIES LIVE HERE. WE'VE GOT NOTHING GOOD" might save us in the end. Let's hope so because at this point, that's our only plan--and cowering, lots of cowering (on my part anyway).
Regardless, I sure hope we can find those two bullets...