A Standing Ovation for Armageddon?

OMG, do you even realise what you're cheering for?

Operation Crossroads: 21 Kiloton "Baker" Bomb Detonated Ninety Feet Underwater, Bikini Atoll Lagoon, South Pacific, July 25, 1946

I'm watching people celebrate attacks on Russian nuclear-capable strategic bombers like it's a football match, and I can't help but wonder: do you have any clue what you're cheering for?

This is the prologue from my novel, written in the immediate aftermath of Russia's invasion in 2022. Not because I'm some prophet, but because when you throw diplomacy out the window and choose pure escalation with a nuclear superpower, the math is pretty fucking simple.

Suzie stares into the mirror. Hollow eyes meet the ghost staring back. Her face gaunt, skin stretched tight over brittle bones. She can't even remember the last time she ate.

As if that even matters…

With a small robotic shrug she brushes back her hair. Strands come loose, clinging to her fingers like dead threads.

Oh no!

She freezes, staring at them. A single, pink-tinged tear slips down her sunken cheek. Slowly, she parts her lips. Her tongue grazes raw gums. Blood seeps from the torn flesh, metallic and bitter. When she nudges a tooth, it moves. Tears sting her eyes as the truth settles cold and heavy inside her.

I'm dying. Alone. Everybody is gone. I don't even know if my little boy is still alive.

Her chest tightens. Silent sobs rack her body until she doubles over the cracked porcelain sink. Blood and tears drip into the basin. She has already forgotten what brought her to the bathroom in the first place. Frantically she searches for a blink of normalcy. Thoughts swirl in her mind like smoke, but none answer the only question that matters.

Why?

She grips the sink harder, her breathing quick and shallow. Memory drags her back to a life that feels more imagined than real.

I don't think I was ever happier.

Joshua had gone to visit her father. Will had surprised her with champagne that night. They sat on the rooftop terrace, her bare legs draped lazily across his lap.

"Rub my feet first," she'd teased, laughing, "and maybe I'll make it worth your while."

His warm, deep laughter had filled the night air, the sound still echoing in her mind—right up to the moment everything shattered. The next thing she remembers is being covered in blood, buried under glass and debris on the floor of the rooftop terrace.

Was I too happy? Did I bring this on us?

The thought coils like a knife in her stomach.

No. This isn't just my end. This is the end for all of us.

Suzie turns toward the bedroom door. Beyond it, Will's body lies twisted on the bed, his face frozen in a grimace of agony, lips swollen and blue, eyes bulging with terror. He had drowned in his own blood sometime last night. The sheets are soaked with piss, bile and shit. The smell clings to her skin, thick and inescapable. Even the memory makes her stomach lurch, but it also reminds her why she came here.

Water. I need water. I won't leave him like this.

She twists the faucet. A few pitiful drops trickle out before the pipes groan and fall silent. She stares at the sink as blood from her nose, mouth and eyes slides in dark rivulets toward the drain and pools into a stagnant copper-red puddle.

Fuck.

Time slips away. The walls seem to close in, pressing the air from her lungs. She tries to scream, tries to release the rage clawing at her insides.

I hope the bastard who pushed the red button first burns in hell forever.

But the stench of death and human waste chokes her before she can make a sound. She gags, stumbling toward the door. Her hand misses the knob and the floor rises to meet her.

Pain explodes in her skull as she crashes down. With a strangled gasp, Suzie stretches out her arm, fingers clawing at the cold tiles. Her breath rattles in her chest. She fights for a last breath of air… and fails.

Joshua.

The thought floats weakly through her mind as darkness takes her.

Dad, please keep him safe. Let him grow up in a better world. I love you both.

This is science fiction. Do you want to make it real? Because this is the path we're on. Every cheer for escalation, every celebration of "hitting back harder," every rejection of any attempt at negotiation - it all leads here. To a red button that will mark the end of humanity. Not because of aliens, or disease, or natural disaster. Because of our own ignorance and stupidity!

So go ahead, keep cheering. But when the mushroom clouds rise, don't say nobody warned you what your applause was really for.

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