Perry starred across the open water of the lake. Fog hung low to the water, obscuring the shore on the other side. Dark clouds obscured the sky far on the horizon, making for a spectacular sunrise, one which Perry was sure he would never see again. Cold metal touched the bare skin of his arm, breaking his revelry, bringing him back into the here and now.
The rifle hung heavy in his hands, the moisture in the air condensing on the cold metal of the firearm. Perry looked again from the rifle to the sunrise in front of him and struggled to comprehend the tragic events of the past few days that had brought him to this point in time.
Complete economic collapse, anarchy, violence and death. The world had come crashing to an end in the span of a few days. Governments were overrun and untold millions killed in the streets as chaos took hold of the panicked masses. Perry survived. Despite everything, he survived and now found himself on the shores of this beautiful sanctuary.
Perry’s senses were assaulted by the sights and smells of peace. Deep green grasses, clear, clean water, the bright white of the house which Perry now called home, all struck him as an affront to what he now knew to be reality. The chaotic scenes through which Perry had fought and survived stood in stark contrast to the peace before him. The world around him was falling apart, but here, in this place, Perry was safe. In this moment, Perry was at peace.
A dark wisp of black smoke moved quickly through the air before changing directions abruptly. Parry now saw the smoke for what it was. A small flock of birds, startled by something on the far shore, had taken flight above the lake. Perry watched as they erratically flew back-and-forth over the water, unsure of where they should go.
A bright flash on the horizon drew Perry’s attention out of his thoughts. The flash continued to brighten, quickly overtaking the rising sun. Perry shielded his eyes against the onslaught until the brightness bleeding through his fingers began to subside. Cautiously he removed his hand and the sight that greeted him chilled his blood.
A giant cloud, black and shaped like a mushroom, raced towards the sky. The dark clouds that dotted the horizon drew back from the advancing hell-storm, burning away like tissue in a flame. Perry could simply watch in horror
More flashes drew Perry’s attention to the south and east. Once again the offensive light assailed him and Perry struggled to fend off the onslaught. As the brightness again faded, ghost images of the mushroom cloud danced in Perry’s vision and he blinked furiously to remove the. The two images remained and Perry quickly realized they were not ghost images at all, but two more mushroom clouds burning away the horizon.
Perry glanced back to the rising sun, now a seeming washed out version of itself against the hell unleashed upon this earth. And yet the realization of the approaching end somehow enhanced this sunrise, made it more beautiful. Perry realized with a sudden peace that this sunrise, this last transition from night to day, would be his last. Perry drank in the colors as oblivion raced to meet him.
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