Surviving the apocalypse with my military system

[March 23, 2043]

[Location: Bunker 030]

[12:00 PM]

The massive bunker door closed slowly, and most of those present, including myself, watched it with terror. Its imposing structure had been designed to withstand even the explosion of the most powerful nuclear bomb.

As the door closed, on the distant horizon, the ominous nuclear mushroom cloud could be seen, the grim signature of the devastation that had followed the bomb's impact. Just before the destructive shockwave reached us, the colossal sealed shelter door closed tightly, isolating us from the outside world.

We found ourselves trapped inside, in a shelter that had been conceived to face the worst imaginable nightmare. Outside, the world was rapidly turning into an uninhabitable and deadly environment, immersed in lethal radiation. We knew that millions, no, billions of people would succumb to this unprecedented catastrophe.

What happened is quite easy to explain: the United States and NATO clashed with Communist China and its allies in an unrelenting ten-year conflict. The escalation of tensions culminated in an unthinkable act of desperation: the launch of nuclear bombs.

However, in anticipation of the catastrophe, the government had built bunkers, structures that resembled those from Fallout, but these were real. Unlike in video games, in real life, these shelters exclusively housed individuals of great significance, those with the capacity to forge a better future in a world that would require centuries, at least around 300 years, to recover.

So, amidst the chaos and destruction, a select group of survivors sought refuge in these fortified bunkers, carrying the hope and responsibility of preserving the spark of humanity and eventually guiding it towards reconstruction.

Across the country, a total of thirty bunkers were erected, each of them unique in design and features, yet sharing a common purpose: to keep the human race alive.

Our underground refuge stood out among the rest; it was one of the largest and could accommodate over a thousand people. In addition to having extensive warehouses filled with advanced technology vehicles and an impressive arsenal, it featured a room equipped with state-of-the-art servers.

This operations center was meant to be the genesis of a new world. It even included a darn tutorial on how to identify communists.

What made our bunker exceptional was its population: mostly civilians with a small group of military personnel, specifically, the Rangers. The government believed that to ensure a prosperous future, it was essential to maintain a strong military force. So here we are... In a pretty fucked up situation.

All of us, the inhabitants of this bunker, shared the same fucking bond: we had lost our loved ones, our homes, and we had dodged death, which had been avoided by the damn government that needed us alive, not for love, but to protect its own skin.

Time would tell whether those who led us from the surface were still alive after three centuries, and whether we would ever be able to reunite with them, or if we were destined to forge our own path in an unfamiliar world.

The question that continued to haunt me was why the heck I was still stuck here. I was barely twenty years old, and to be honest, I didn't feel like my presence contributed much of anything.

It's true that I had been in previous conflicts, where I had faced Chinese and Russian adversaries in a series of events that had resulted in the loss of many lives. However, that didn't automatically grant me the right to be selected for this shelter.

Amidst my doubts, I couldn't help but think of my mother, who had passed away alone while I remained locked in this damn bunker.

The woman who gave birth to me dies alone in her house without being able to be with her son; What a shitty life I have.

I took a deep breath, turned around to look at our fellow survivors. We were still standing at the entrance of the bunker, and the atmosphere was laden with sad and gloomy thoughts. Many of them were lost in their own reflections, some with tears in their eyes, while a small percentage remained motionless, as if they were dead inside.

I couldn't blame them. The end of the world, the impending catastrophe unfolding on the other side of that impenetrable door, was overwhelming. Bombs and radiation were ravaging the outside world, and here underground, we were the fortunate ones who had escaped the fury of the apocalypse.

The worst part of it all was that the darn bunker was next to a small town. The pleading looks of those women, begging us to take their children, would stay indelibly etched in my mind.

I guess, somehow, life had to go on. The world was headed to become a vast and desolate radioactive wasteland, with no prospects of recovery for hundreds of years.

After a while, the bunker's authorities made the decision to set the mission in motion, organizing everything. The main task was to conduct a thorough inventory, ensure that everything was in its place, and, what turned out to be most heart-wrenching, to hold our last supper.

It was a terribly depressing experience for all of us. Even I found it difficult to eat. Grasping the magnitude of what was happening was an immense challenge. Nothing resembled the movies that had depicted people being happy about being saved. Instead, in this post-apocalyptic world, sadness and despair overtook our hearts as we struggled to face the reality of our situation.

Many of those in the bunker would have preferred to share the fate of their families rather than survive here. Furthermore, nobody had any idea of what the future held for us, as radiation was an invisible and unknown enemy. Frustrations and anger were directed towards the Chinese and their actions that had triggered this apocalypse.

Most of the people in that shelter were complete strangers to me. I had interacted with only a few before all of this, and none of my friends or comrades had managed to survive. The ability to socialize seemed to have completely disappeared. Even the most extroverted soldier was immersed in devastation, walking through the bunker in silence. Nobody communicated with anyone, not even attempting to start a conversation. Following the example of others, I decided to fall into silence, sharing with them the burden of discouragement that weighed on our souls.

I was seated in the immense cafeteria that occupied a substantial portion of the bunker. It was a space almost as vast as a parking lot, with endless rows of tables and chairs, pristine white walls, televisions hanging on the walls, and some movie posters decorating the atmosphere. At first glance, it might have seemed welcoming, but the atmosphere in that place was incredibly depressing.

There we were, hundreds of people sharing the same space, but each of us immersed in our thoughts or devoid of appetite. Some would pick up their plates and take bites without enthusiasm, while others simply stared at their meals with no interest whatsoever. The cafeteria, once a place of gathering and conversation, had become a silent witness to sadness.

However, all the melancholy was abruptly interrupted by the entrance of an elderly man. He was wearing a white lab coat over his army uniform, his hair combed back, glasses perched on his nose, and a somewhat unkempt mustache. He walked into the room with a wide smile that contrasted with the sorrow that filled the atmosphere. Behind him, a group of doctors followed in his footsteps.

With a megaphone in hand, he began to speak with enthusiasm, even though his words were met with expressions of disgust and murmurs of discontent from the soldiers. "Alright, Rangers. I know what we're going through is incredibly tough, but let's not lose hope," he exclaimed, trying to inject some encouragement into the gloomy atmosphere. "A bright future awaits us, where we can rebuild the great nation of the United States."

Despite his initial enthusiasm, the man fell into an awkward silence in the face of the lack of a positive reaction from those present. "Uh... Well, anyway," he stammered, his smile losing some of its shine, "after you finish your dinner or lunch... honestly, I'm not sure what time it is, heh." His final laugh sounded forced, and the atmosphere remained heavy with sorrow.

Then, with a determined expression, he continued, "For those willing, I invite you to follow my assistants, who will guide you to the cryogenization chambers." His two assistants, standing beside him, looked proud as they prepared to carry out the assigned task.

I had heard of cryogenization before; I knew it was an experimental and risky process. There were rumors that to freeze you, they injected large quantities of chemicals into the body, a procedure that could be deadly for many. It was like playing Russian roulette, with no guarantee that everyone would come out of that experience alive.

The announcement to head to the cryogenization chambers filled me with unease. There had been no time to perfect or continue experimenting with the process, and now it was presented to us as the only option. I looked around, noticing the worried looks on my fellow's faces, all aware of the risks we were about to take.

"What will happen afterward?" one of the soldiers asked as he took a sip of water.

"Well, my friend, that's quite straightforward," replied the man in the white lab coat. "All of us will go into cryogenization for a period of 300 years. It's estimated that in three centuries, the planet might become habitable, or at least mostly so. Our mission is precisely that: to work together to rebuild the nation, creating a new world for future generations," he concluded with a smile that tried to instill confidence.

I'd rather be dead than be in charge of rebuilding the country. Surviving the apocalypse... it's hell. Who knows what we'll face out there? What if the Chinese survived too? What if they track us down and kill us? What if the bunker fails? There are too many uncertain possibilities that make me think being dead would be simpler.

No one responded to the old man's comment, and we simply got up when his assistants began calling us in groups. I was assigned to go to the first set of cryogenic pods.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about that area, just large rooms with pods lined up in rows, one next to the other. The room was incredibly cold, with frost-covered floors that crunched beneath our feet. The icy atmosphere and the sight of those pods that would be our refuge for the next three centuries heightened the feeling that we were about to enter a long, deep sleep, with no guarantee of waking up in a better world.

They dressed us in special black suits that were full of holes and tubes to keep us alive, which proved incredibly uncomfortable as it forced us to strip down to our underwear.

"Please, I need you to enter the pods," the supervisor overseeing the whole process instructed. "It's just a matter of lying down, and everything else will happen automatically. It might be painful at first, but then you'll only sleep. Cryogenization feels like a dream, so there's no need to worry," he concluded.

Of course, idiot, I thought sarcastically. It might feel like sleeping, but with the added constant worry of whether we'd wake up or not, you damn son of a bitch. I silently prayed, hoping that God would hear my pleas and allow me to rest in peace.

In the end, I decided to follow suit and settled into my assigned pod. Surprisingly, it was quite comfortable, although it was darn cold, which made me let out a faint manly groan, thankfully unnoticed by anyone.

It didn't take long before all of us were inside the pods, and they closed silently, sealing our uncertain fate.

"I have a really bad feeling about this," I whispered to myself as the cold embraced my body.

And I was right to be worried. I felt a hatch open from the back of the pod, and suddenly, something pierced through my back. It was an immensely large needle that made me scream in pain and quicken my breath.

"Gah... aaahhh!" I cried out as more and more needles began to pierce my body. It was a terrifying experience; it felt like I was being murdered right then and there.

The pain was unbearable, and then I started to feel liquids flowing into my body. After that, I don't remember anything else. I blacked out from the pain as the cryogenization process advanced and plunged me into a deep sleep, not knowing if I would ever wake up again.