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I Just Like Knowing What Time It is to Be Honest

I Just Like Knowing What Time It is to Be Honest

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Published by Ian Bahas
your average guy in an apocalypse filled with mutated chickens
your average guy in an apocalypse filled with mutated chickens

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Published by: Ian Bahas on Mar 17, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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03/17/2012

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Ian Bahas
I just like knowing what time it is, to be honest*BEEP BEEP BEEP* The alarm clock goes as I wake up. Time to refill the generator. I swearsometimes I think the only reason I keep this generator running is to power the alarm clock that tellsme to refill it. I mean, seriously, after finding that old-fashioned stove and that wind-up radio, thatthing is useless. I just like knowing what time it is to be honest. Helps me keep things in perspective.When your world has been blown to holy hell, you grow attached to those little bits of normalcy.I bet you’re wondering what the heck is going on, why I said my world was blown to holy hell,why I need a generator to power an alarm clock to tell me to refill it. The simple answer is that somepoliticians got angry with each other and decided to throw nukes at each other, decimating us normalpeople in the process while they hid in their underground bunkers and shouted messages about pa-triotism. Pretty much any war in history, plus radiation. “But Mister, how did you survive when somany of your fellow people died from the bombs or radiation”. Well disembodied child’s voice, I wassmart enough to buy an old, abandoned nuclear missile silo before the bombs dropped and luckyenough to be pretty resistant to radiation...although to be honest I only bought the thing because A) Itwas only about 100 grand...less than your average house B) I can tell chicks I live in a nuclear mis-sile silo and C) It’s a freaking missile silo!Anyways, I just happened to be chilling on the bottom level with a few cold ones when I hearthis BOOM!, feel a shake, and the power goes out. When I rush upstairs, I see the one thing I neverthought I would see in real life (apart from Scarlett Johansson naked.). A freaking mushroom cloud.So here I am, 20 years after the collapse of civilization as we know it, still a slave to the daily grind.Some things never change.
 
Ian Bahas
Might as well see who’s on the radio, been hankering for some company lately anyways andwith Gene’s route changing and all, all my friends (all 2 of them) can only visit once a ye-wuzzat?“Hello, is anybody receiving this?” a feminine voice crackles on the radio “This is a class 3 distresscall, callsign Nevada Hotel Golf Foxtrot Niner Niner, bandits chased me into chicken country and Iam neck deep in poultry. Need some serious help over here. Does anyone copy?” Huh...never heardthat callsign before. Must be new to the network. I was going to have such a good day too....oh whoam I kidding just another day sipping warm 20 year old beer while reading Tom Clancy novels. Mightas well get some action and do my good turn for the year....plus she sounds hot! “Roger that NinerNiner, this is callsign India California Bravo Mike Zero One what’s your location?” “Silo boy? I’veheard about you.” “Nothing good i’m sure, you got a GPS?” “Roger that, write this down cause I donot have much more battery life on this thing. I am at 37 north at16.08486 and 115 west at48.01895.” “Roger that helpless stranger, i’m about an hour out” “This ain’t funny silo boy, please hur-ry! I’m running out of ammo”.I quickly grab my chicken gear and head out on Old Faithful, my horse that I use when I am hanker-ing for civilization, and pray to god this person is still alive. I freaking hate chicken country “but mis-ter, what kind of threat could a chicken be to a 40 year old with a military assault rifle and a swat-grade shotgun” Well disembodied voice, consider this. Over the past 20 years, the radiation haschanged your average chicken from a 5 pound bird about the size of your average housecat to a vi-cious, territorial, 130 pound patchwork monstrosity about the size of a great dane with all the intelli-gence and viciousness of a pit bull. Never thought I would be so scared of a chicken, but someflocks have decided that men are pretty tasty...and I just happen to live right next to a flock of man-
 
Ian Bahas
eaters. They will generally stay away if one stays away from the nests most of the year, but this timeof the year is laying season....which means that my visitor is probably fending off more than a few ofthe monsters looking for an easy meal. Did I mention they had teeth? Never thought I would be sav-ing a woman from chickens......she better be hot and desperate!As I head towards the GPS coordinates, I radio ahead “how you doing there Niner?” “Notgood. Broken leg, on my last two magazines, and by the looks of it the whole flock knows i’m here.You better get here quick!” As if on cue, two hens pop out from behind a ridge and start bearingdown on us. I kick faithful into a gallop and frantically hope that these two were just a couple ofstrays. No such luck, as six more join my new friends. I jerk faithful around, grab my pistol, and firemy entire clip into the mass of poultry coming at me. Five fall to the ground and the sixth ends uplimping. I reload and put a final shot into its head, then move on. With this many out, the whole flockis probably out in force. I check my weapons to make sure they are loaded with the safeties off andgallop off towards the coordinates. After about two miles I hear the “pop pop” of gunshots and could just make out the sound of a woman swearing among what looks like half the flock. She must be adamn good shot to have lasted this long. I pull Faithful to a halt and sight down my rifle, picking offenough of them to scatter the rest and pull their attention from their angry, swearing prey.As I pick off more, I hear the distant crow of a rooster, which I now realize has been hidingout in the background this whole time. As if a switch were flicked, the entire group turns towards thesound and starts running at full tilt. Looks like this prey wasn’t so easy after all. “That you silo boy?”my charge yells. That voice, so filled with anger and defiance before now started to betray her painand weariness. “Yeah, how’s the leg?” “Looks like a clean break, just needs to be set is all....al-

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