Fallout~~ story

This is a story I am writing, no, it has not been edited, nor read by me xD

Fallout~??
Before they raid our minds.


His beady, green eyes ran up and down a crack in the wall, a few muttered sentences escaping his paled lips as he did so. ??His thicket of blonde hair stuck out in odd places, as far as he reached toward what they called 'fashion'. He squinted his eyes tightly, deep in thought about something he didn't even know. Jerry snapped his head to the left as he heard a small tapping sound. Not finding the source, he went back to his anything but useful state of day dreaming about something he couldn't work out...


The silvered walls shook slightly, proving the approaching bombs. Shaking his head, Jerry moaned loudly, thoughts evaded his mind, although the main, was if they were nuclear bombs. His left hand was resting upon a wooden bench, fingers playing across it in a slow tune, and his right clutched a gas mask he would need. ??As he started to stand, the door opened. An old women shuffled in speaking in a rushed way, "We all most get into the vault, the bombs, they are not nuclear, but are still bombs all the same," her doe- brown eyes were wide in fear as she gestured Jerry to come with her.??


Obediently, he followed the women, occasionally glancing back at the room he had lived in for the past few weeks. Jerry scratched his small stubble of a beard as he tagged behind, taking long but slow strides. "The vault?" he asked in a somewhat strangled voice. The only reply he received was a nod of the head from the old women whom shuffled ahead quickly. If you listened carefully, you could hear her faint humming, bouncing of the walls, the sound carrying ever so gently. A smile painted itself across Jerry's face as he listened, but quickly vanished ??as the vaults door came in to sight.??


Jerry, like many others, was claustrophobic. A large groan escaped his lips as the women typed in a special code, then held her palm to a sensor pad. The large, metal door flung open, revealing quite a large space. ??Up against the walls were bunks, each four separated into a small room, known as 'A Living Area,' each family were assigned one, some of them were ??setting up theirs, others already finished. He looked around with his beady eyes, some were just trying to calm young children, supposedly their own. The rest of the vault was pretty bland, basically just being rock and dirt. Jerry kicked around the floor with his right foot, looking at the ceiling as dust flew up to it.??


The white, button- up shirt he wore was protected by a large, fawn coloured trench cost which fell to his wobbling knees. Taking a few steps forward, he sighed, prepared to stop and look for his living area. He knew all to well that he would be alone, only comforted by the three remaining bunks by his side. Letting another sigh escape his pale lips, Jerry spotted his area. While he was dazed off, the old women had made her way there, he now realized she had made his bed, set up a small, fold- up table and left some food, and a photo of his -dead- wife and kids neatly on it. When he was there, he thanked the women, but gestured her away with a wave of his slightly wrinkled hand.??


Staring at the photo, sadness flooded him. Like the many other times he saw pictures of his family, he had to remind himself;??
'I'm not a murderer,'
Spinning on heels, his shirt cuffs spiraled, dancing around in a way. Jerry winced, reaching out to grab an object, only to steady himself, as the first bomb hit. He nearly fell at the force, but quickly regained all balance he had lost during the seconds, thus using the time to sit, as if he stood, surely the next bomb would make him fall. Looking around, he realized loud screams which hung in the air. Wincing at the sound, Jerry shut his green eyes tightly, hand still clutching what had turned out to be a frame of one of the four bunks in the living space he was in.??