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“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought,
but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” – Albert Einstein
World War III was supposed to be the end of all wars. For five billion people, it was. Within minutes, the mushroom clouds engulfed major metropolitan areas around the world: Beijing, Berlin, Chicago, Delhi, Karachi, Kyiv, London, Moscow, New York, Paris, Pyongyang, San Francisco, Shanghai, St. Petersburg, and Washington D.C.. The purported mutual security of possessing the bomb became a mutual sentence to death. Within an hour, hundreds of millions were dead. New York was not hit by one bomb but five, each hitting a borough. Within a year, the nuclear fallout, disease, and nuclear winter had killed billions. Agriculture production was cratered, and food around the globe was contaminated with radiation; slowly killing those left on Earth. Even with rationing, the world is certain to starve.
Now, there is us. The billion remaining survivors living in the corners and crevices of the globe that escaped World War III. For two years, there was peace. Peace was necessary for survival. However, the peace has decayed as resources have become more scarce. Somewhere along the line, the question of our hunger became: what will I steal, and who do I have to kill in order to survive?
World War IV is not a grandiose battle of state power. Most states disappeared underground during the war. Instead, World War IV is a battle of human against human. Every human is in the Hobbesian state of nature—in anarchy.
…
To get ready for the day, I break off the icicles on my gas mask and reapply the scotch tape to the crack in the middle of the mask. Hoping that it will prevent the radiation from permeating my skin, I wrap my body in lead. My father was a radiologist before the war, which meant that he knew where to find the necessary gear to survive the nuclear radiation after the bombs dropped. Even with this knowledge, his body succumbed to cancer just ten months after the bomb. Since then, I have been alone. After layering up, I open the barn door to face the frigid world.
Covering my face, the wind pelts me with dark gray sediment as I trudge to the pick-up truck to drive into town. It snowed again last night. Reaching down to the ground, I dig through the powdered snow until I can feel the Oklahoman soil. It is coarse. Once again, there will be no harvest at the end of Summer.
After filling the tank of my truck with stolen gas, I place my hunting gun in the passenger seat of the car. The drive to Oklahoma City— or what is left of it—is an hour on pot-holed freeways. If my car were to break down on the highway, I would run the risk of freezing to death or encountering a past foe. Still, the drive into the city is much safer than the drive back. No one will go out of their way to attack me until I have something for them to steal.
The drive is familiar. Life after nuclear war is still— frozen in time. The billboards on the interstate remain unchanged. The roads slowly decay. The towns, even those left untouched by nuclear holocaust, are largely deserted. Oklahoma City is empty as I speed into town. Everyone imagines nuclear war as one or more big mushroom clouds, never daring to think about what happens underneath. We learned that humanity itself is not destroyed only by the bomb, but also what comes after. Empty tents line the streets. Most tents have human bodies, but no life.
There is a misconception of nuclear war that the bomb would only impact places where it was dropped. Instead, the effects are truly worldwide. The disruption of production created by nuclear war has destroyed supply chains, which decimated economies around the world. Even countries that did not experience the bomb itself were impacted. Switzerland, for instance, which remained neutral in the conflict, was downwind of the European nuclear attacks. Its government fell after inefficiently distributing aid for those affected by nuclear radiation. Elsewhere, goods became too expensive. Leaders were assassinated. Civil wars broke out throughout South America, Europe, Africa, and Asia. No government was safe from World War III.
Now, no one is safe in World War IV.
The first time I came to the city, I made the mistake of leaving my car in a parking garage. A few shattered windows and bullet holes later, I now recognize the importance of being able to accelerate straight as fast as I can out of the city. I park my truck downtown in the middle of the street. Outside of the car, my boots crunch the tundra of the inner city. Every block, individuals lay on the sidewalk, starving or starved. Those that withstood hunger did not survive the cold. No matter how many times I see it, it chills my bones.
One man shrieks out to me from the sidewalk. “Please,” he pleads, “Kill me, I will tell you where my canned goods are.” The man is dying a slow death, wounded from what I can only presume was a robbery earlier. “They took everything I have,” he says. “Kill me before the cold does.”
I nod, then respond, “You said you have canned goods?”
Gingerly, the man reaches into the inside pocket of his blood-stained coat to find a small note. He hands it to me. It’s a map with a red X mark 30 minutes north. He watches me read it, “Please,” he utters once more.
I respect his request. The bomb changed what it meant to be human in a way that is inexplicable. Oppenheimer’s toy has destroyed life as we knew it.
With this note, the trip to the city is short today. I walk back to my truck, wearily checking my surroundings for any source of life…. There is none. I take one last look down the street before getting into my truck. Something catches my eye.
I approach it slowly.
In the middle of the street, breaking out of the gravel and snow, there is a stem and a leaf. Bending down, I reach out to touch the life sprouting out of the deserted downtown road.
I return to my truck, and begin driving north, away from the future and back to the present. Survival is not just about living another day. It is about finding meaning and purpose, even in the most dire of circumstances. The world is broken, but perhaps not beyond repair. And as long as there is life, there is hope.
Tomorrow, I will set out again. Not just to survive, but to find others; to rebuild; to nurture the small signs of life that persist in the shadows of our former world.
“A nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought.”
Statement from Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev (1985)
See more about the humanitarian impacts of nuclear weapons here.
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