Free Shelf Life by S.L. Dearing

Shelf Life
    S hannon felt the cold wetness against her cheek as she forced her eyes open, only to close them again quickly as the warm, wet tongue slid over her face.
    “I’m up, Max...I’m up.”
    The Sheppard/ Lab mix danced excitedly as she rose from the cot, his nails tapping against the concrete floor. Shannon walked slowly across the room of the tiny shelter to her rations bin and opened it.
    “Shit...”
    Inside the bin she saw what was left of her emergency rations: four bottles of water and food enough for three days, at most. She glanced around the room, illuminated by a few LED lamps, and stopped at the calendar. Three weeks. Each day ticked off by a giant X. She had been in this hole for three weeks.
    She hadn’t thought about the water. Half of her supplies had been used to flush a toilet that was no longer attached to a working main line. She had thought the power and plumbing would have been restored by now. After all, this was an earthquake shelter...but what if the alert from the EBS wasn’t an earthquake?
    “It sure felt like an earthquake, didn’t it, Max?”
    He cocked his head to one side, ears up, and wagged his tail. Shannon smiled and turned back to the rations bin. She pulled out a foil package, ripped it open and broke off a piece of rice cake, then tossed it to her dog. Then she placed the bulk of food in her mouth, holding it with her teeth as she reached for a small black radio. Her index finger slid the small button into the on position and her thumb began to rotate the wheel as she watched the needle slide across the series of numbers. There was nothing but static. She switched to her AM channels, but the result was the same. Then she watched as the light dimmed and went out. She banged it a few times, then turned it off and put it back on the shelf. She stood and walked over to her chair, finally biting into the survival ration as she sat down and chewed, laughing to herself. Why had she turned off the radio? It was dead. Dead...
    She broke off another piece of food and tossed it Max, who caught it and smacked loudly with each chew. She slouched into the chair looking at the ceiling. She finally let herself think about what might be going on outside. She hadn’t been able to get anything on the radio. The phone had stopped working immediately, no power, no Internet. She had told herself that the moment she had gotten power or plumbing or a radio station coming in clear, she would head for the surface. But none of those things happened. She shuddered slightly as her imagination started to race, but she closed her eyes, pushing the thoughts out of her head. She glanced back at Max and smiled, then tossed him another piece of cardboard rice. She then looked at the wrapper, 3,600 calories and a five-year shelf life. She shook her head and tossed the wrapper on the floor.
    “Maybe I should stop reading labels, huh? Time to head out, Maxie... we need more supplies...need to see if anyone else if alive.”
    She stood up and looked around her. The shadows of the lamps playing against the grey of the concrete walls, smooth and flat, save for the air vents scattered in the four corners. She stood up and walked over to her cot and reached up. She moved aside a jacket and grabbed a pink and black backpack. The neon pink edges glowed in the lamplight. She turned, then stopped and grabbed the same fleece jacket she had just moved and shoved it into the backpack. She moved back to the rations bin and filled the backpack with the water and food. Then she turned and put on jeans and a long sleeve shirt with the silkscreened Trojan emblazoned on the front, with the words “Fight On!” written underneath. She sat and pulled on her thick socks and hiking boots. The laces worked their way up the hooks and were tied tightly. She then grabbed a hair tie and pulled her long auburn hair behind her head and into a high ponytail, letting the long curly tendrils cascade around her face. As she stood up, she