Hiding From The End

I tried not to let my racing heart give away my sense of panic as I parked the car and got out.

It was a delicate balance: Trying to get here as fast as possible, but without driving so fast that I might get pulled over and delayed any further.

The whole trip had taken four hours but it felt like days.

Every moment was critical, and every second felt like it might be my last.

But I was here at last.

Axel’s Prepper Hotel.

**

A few hours ago I woke up and found the message. It was written on the walls, on my mirrors, on my appliances, and on every scrap of paper in my house:

“Humanity Will End In Seven Days”

I lived alone and diligently locked my doors and windows every night.

Nothing was missing or otherwise disturbed in my house except for the obviously disturbing message plastered everywhere.

But perhaps most importantly, to the best of my knowledge I had never been diagnosed as schizophrenic, psychotic, or otherwise mentally unstable.

It was in that moment that I realized there were only two possibilities: Either I had suffered an inexplicable, complete break with reality, or this so called “End” was real.

There was no time or even point or making an effort to “warn” the rest of humanity. Even if they didn’t write me off as absolutely insane, seven days was so little time that there wasn’t anything that could realistically be done to stop... whatever it was... that was going to end humanity.

My sense of self-preservation immediately kicked in and I decided in that moment to find some kind of fallout shelter to safe myself from this alleged “End.”

In the best case scenario, I’d waste a week and just tell my boss that I came down with a sudden, serious illness.

In the worst case scenario, assuming there was anything even remotely possible that I could do to ward off dying with the rest of humanity, I might be able to survive.

A quick online search revealed something right up my alley: Axel’s Prepper Hotel.

It was billed as a “hotel” where people could live in a fallout shelter, equipped with food, safety, relative comfort, and even entertainment for as long as they could afford.

The options were extensive, the prices were reasonable, and the distance was driveable.

I had seen enough. I set off right away.

**

I nervously walked through the front door and was surprised to see a petite-looking young woman at the desk, rather than a burly, bearded man who drank a six-pack for breakfast.

Despite her youth, she was not playing on her phone or computer, but was diligently writing as I approached the desk.

She looked up from her work and smiled at me.

“Good morning,” she said with no accent. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, hi,” I replied. “Is this Axel’s Prepper Hotel?”

“Why yes it is sir, are you looking to buy or rent a room?”

Her calm, friendly demeanor settled my nervousness and all-around panic.

I felt that I could relax and talk to her normally without having to give any real reason for my staying here.

“Yeah,” I replied calmly. “I was wondering if you had any rooms that I could borrow for just a week or so?”

“Of course,” came the sweet reply. “We have a wide variety of available rooms depending on the level of security you require, the length of your stay, and price range.”

“If you’d like to tell me what your reason for staying is, I can give you some recommendations,” she added.

I hadn’t even thought of that really.

I was initially worried that a ton of other people had gotten the same “doomsday” message and were racing here on their own.

I would have felt fortunate just to get a room, let alone have my pick of what level of security I wanted.

Vague. Short. Diplomatic. That was how I needed to approach this.

Even so, I didn’t want to make this woman panic or otherwise report my to the police.

“I’ve just been having this sense that something really, really bad could happen soon, and I was wondering if I could stay somewhere safe and well-furnished in the event of some kind of... catastrophe,” came my reply.

“I understand entirely sir,” she said, to my relief. “It’s our mission to make sure our guests are as comfortable and well-equipped as possible in the event the worst happens.”

“Would you like me to explain how our rooms work before you choose one?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Alright then. Each of our rooms are located in functionally-designed fallout shelters several dozen feet below this building...”

I reflexively looked down at floor when she mentioned that I was standing above where I’d likely be spending my time.

“Each room is electrically powered with every electrical appliance you’d need. But there are several available means for you to produce your own energy in the event we can no longer supply it to you.

“Over the course of your stay you can enjoy television, a gaming system, and even surf the internet for as long as the internet exists.

“For meals, each room is fully stocked with three years’ worth of non-perishable food, rationed out for three square meals a day. We can restock and bring you more food at your request.

“Should you run out of food, there are instructions for alternative methods of food production that you can reference. Those alternative methods can likely feed you for another several months with proper rationing.

“As for defense, your room comes equipped with several firearms for self-defense in the event someone or something attempts to infiltrate your room. For an added fee and a background check, you can take those firearms home with you at the conclusion of your stay. Once you’re inside and lock the door, even we won’t be able to open it up and force you out unless your payments cease.

“We’ll give you as much privacy as you’d like over the course of your stay, but if you’d like some human contact we can check in on you as often as you’d like.

“Lastly, you’ll be equipped with a panic button that will allow us to enter the room in the event you suffer a medical emergency.

“Any questions?” she asked.

I had one burning question.

“Yeah, what happens if something happens and, like, you and everyone else get wiped out by something. Am I trapped down there?”

The question didn’t seem to bother the woman at all.

“Not to worry. Should we - as you say - get wiped out, you get to stay in the room indefinitely. Your room is equipped with various reading materials on how to survive a wide array of after-earth survival scenarios should you be forced to venture back outside.”

That sounded reassuring. She was quite knowlegeable, and quite the salesperson.

“Alright then, I’m sold,” I said. “I’ll take a standard room for one person.”

“Terrific,” she said and began typing. “That will come out to $2,000 per day. I know you said you wanted about a week, but would you like to prepay your entire stay, or use a Direct Pay from your bank account.”

It was a lot of money, I realized, but not an insurmountable sum in the event this whole “End” scenario turned out to be nonsense.

“Yeah I’ll pay for the whole thing in advance,” I said. “Give me eight days.”

“Very well,” she replied. “That will come out to $16,000. Oh, and I should remind you that if you choose to leave early we will give you a full refund on all unused days.”

That was a relief. I was glad to hear that if the room wasn’t what it was cracked up to be that I could at least recoup my money.

**

We went through the signing-in procedure, and I was then given instructions on how to properly seal myself inside the room once I was all settled.

Finally, she led me into an elevator, down a long, military-style shaft where dozens of sealed fallout shelters were lined up in rows.

It made me marvel to think what kind of people were living in there, likely hiding from some message they had received or wild idea that they had conveying the end of the world.

At last we reached my room, and I was delighted to see that it looked exactly as I had seen in the pictures and how it had been described to me.

It was crowded for accessibility, yet spacious enough for a massive quantity of food and necessities.

I was completely satisfied with what this room had to offer.

“Thank you,” I said to the woman.

She nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, enter the codes and the door will seal behind me. Hopefully I’ll see you in a week!”

She left and I could hear her footsteps as she made her way back to the elevator and returned to her work.

My anxiety was gone. I felt safe here - or about as safe as I possibly could.

If this truly was the end, I was as prepared to face it as any person could possibly be.

I entered the codes and watched as the massive metal door connecting me to the outside world sealed itself up.

After taking a nice, deep breath, I found a couch, kicked off my shoes, sat down, and waited for The End.