A Short Story : A Story?

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Bending her head down, she said a few words, words they all knew during those times they could act human and pay respect to a fallen soul. She said the prayer out of some kind of guilt or mercy, she couldn’t decide which she leaned to more. “Peace be with you, and may you rest now forevermore,” she finished and began the journey back to the compound. She was heading home. The thick, metal door closed behind her, creaking and echoing throughout the long hallway that began the maze of hallways and rooms in the almost empty bunker. It took Meghan a couple seconds but the echoes coming from the door just continued to fade. “Keegan, I’m home!” she shouted. Her voice echoed down through the hallway solely without the familiar music Keegan usually played. To drown out the silence, he’d say. She waited but no response came. She and Keegan were the only ones left in the compound now. They’d both spent most of their childhood growing up in this hidden refuge. The hallways, the rooms, even the inner courtyard, allowed them more than enough space in which to live their lives, even if they were lonely lives indeed. Dropping her stuff off in the mudroom, she kept the rifle only, still curious why Keegan hadn’t said something over the speakers as he usually did. The massive shelved room the lead to Keegan’s desk was stocked with several pieces of communication equipment, from rolls of wire to lines of walkie-talkies. He created most of the walkie-talkies to include this feature or that, all from the scavenging trips they took. Some of the rolls of wire were covered in layers of dust but Keegan had always been adamant in using most of what they spent effort in scavenging. Her eyes followed lines the entire way to his workspace, wondering if the lines had shorted, or something, to explain the quiet hallways. His seat was certainly empty as she made her way into the side room. The entire far wall was covered in screens, a few monitors, and of course, Keegan’s masterpiece, the long-distance radio command center. He’s set up towers, big metal antennas that echoed the same message on open channels that’d been playing for the last three years. “To all who may hear this, we are here and we

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A Short Story : A Story?