Sam could feel it for days afterwards, he had survived the worst of the radiation blast, but his mind was still realizing everyone he loved, everything he had, gone in a puff of smoke.
He could hear the storm, although he was a good hundred miles from where he had last seen Wichita turned into an irradiated pile of rubber, that sound was going to haunt him forever. That sound of his father, calling out to him, telling him to get into the shelter, that the men were going to kill him if they found him. Sam crawled in and he heard the shot, saw his father fall, a red spot on his shirt. Sam slammed the door shut and listened as the looters tried to open the door. It was only 6:15, he had to find a way to completely barricade himself in.
He found the stairs by accident, they were behind a shelf of food, and when Sam grabbed a can of peaches, it moved back and the wall opened, revealing the stairs down. Sam sprinted down the stairs, his heart hoping that there was a switch to seal his exit behind him. He made it to the bottom of the stairwell, about 100 yards down in a minute and a half. As he hit the bottom, he heard the shelf move back into place. Sam was sealed in.
The lights came on around him, illuminating foodstuffs and a few weapons. Sam was safe, there was no way the looters could get him now. He felt the shake a moment before he knew what happened. He probably would never have known if it hadn't been for the sight he saw a few moments later. About ten feet above his head screamed thousands of little ghostly heads, each of them screaming in torment. A screen on a computer nearby suddenly chimed on, "Radiation levels unsafe, do not exit bunker at all costs."
Sam noticed a query box on the screen, he went over and typed, "radiation levels?"
The screen gave him the following readout. "Radiation levels consistent with those found in a conventional Ghost Rock Bomb. Attempts to contact Wichita City Center are meeting with failure, signal disrupted by irradiated atmosphere."
Sam's heart sank, if the computer was right, then Wichita was gone, along with everything, his family, friends, job, everything was gone, at 6:17pm, September 23, 2081... Sam broke down crying. When he finished, he looked around.
There were racks everywhere, some littered with food, others with weapons. In the far corner was a locked door. He couldn't hear anything in the room.
Sam went over to one of the weapon racks, "That's a nice assault rifle, whoever was supposed to come here was pretty rich." Sam eyed the rifle for a moment and turned his attention to the pistol lying on the floor.
A classic Colt Dragon, made in the early part of the 21st century. Very few of these weapons still existed. Sam pocketed the weapon into a holster he found nearby, loaded a bag with ammo and whatever else he could find and set out towards the door.
The key was still in the lock, whoever had shut that door had left in a hurry. Slowly, he reached out and turned the key.
He opened the door slowly, and screamed his lungs out.