Survival. A Death of the Commons short story.

The following short story is based within the world of the Death of the Commons a comic coming out soon. You can read the first 12 pages of that comic here.

You roll the empty baked beans tin with your feet, the hollow clattering sound reverberating around the empty cabin.

You sit up straight, back cracking. The iron bed creaks, the musk of the mouldy bed suffocating the air.

Depression and decay starve the life out of everything. Living inside the belly of ancient machines has its benefit. For one you are always warm, the earth sheltering you from the harsh wind and red dirt outside.

Basic foodstuffs from before the event kept you alive. You don't live, you survive.

You think about the event, the great series of slow moving disasters that doomed the human race to an existence of scavenging rats.

Picking up the tin you throw it in anger, it clattering off the walls with a deadened rattle.

Picking yourself up you head back to the main chamber, the sound of running water and the humming of seemingly magical turbines pulsate in the background to an ever ending pattern. These hydro machines had been forged directly into the heart of mother nature and would survive long after you were gone.

Father had made a choice to bring us here you think. This life must be better than outside, but not by much. You had seen some of the world outside and it was a cruel dark place. Inside these ancient mountains there was power, food and shelter. Everything the body needs, but nothing it wants.

Fun fact, this place used to be called the Snowy Hydro Scheme. Snowy, ha! You couldn't even imagine snow in such a hot and arid landscape.

You start the walk to the hydroponics bay. Kids run past "Hey the sunflowers are getting picked today, come on come on!" they beam at you blasting towards the glass houses brimming with greenery and light.

It had been a good year you think to yourself as you bury your hands in your pockets. At least the crops had survived this year. You lost to many friends and family the years gone by from famine and disease.

You don't hold much hope that the future will get any better. But you will survive like you always have.
Keystone