The chamber was dark. Deep inside the carved out hill, beds were carved into earthen walls and floors, stuffed with hay or scraps of fabric. Most of the residents fared no better in dress. Their clothes were simply made of whatever they could find and sew together. It lay in contrast to the bright sun outside.
Two young rabbits sat next to one another, leaning against a singular oak tree planted onto the hill. It had long since withered. Down below the hill, more rabbits were setting up a podium. A small town could be seen in the distance, running along a primitive dirt road. Most of the taller buildings had collapsed into a singular story.
"Ron?" the larger rabbit asked.
"Yea?"
It's going to be me this time."
Ron shook his head. "Justin.."
"I can just feel it. Tell me what's going to happen again."
"Alright. My Dad will call us all to assembly. They have the names of every boy rabbit in a bowl. They'll pick them out. They're going to call five names. If your name is called, you step up to the platform. Your things will be given to whoever you wrote down in your will. You put the noose over your head, and you jump. That's it. You're dead. They'll take the bodies down to have the priest bless them once they're sure you're dead. Then we send the bodies down into town, and they. . .prepare you."
Justin shook his head. "You say it so nice. Prepare. They aren't preparing for anything. They're slicing us up to eat us. Why? Why rabbits?"
"You know. Because we have the highest sex drive and reproduction rates. We grow up faster. You know that. We keep the town going, and they keep us safe from the wasteland. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked. Maybe before the bomb fell. Maybe our great Grandparents. For them it was different, but..."
"I wish it wasn't. I wish it was before the bombs fell."
Ron nodded. "Yea."
"You're the one I named." Justin said. "In the will. I just wanted you to know."
"I named you too. But don't worry about it." Ron said. "What about your mom?"
"She'll be fine. You know how she is. But, Ron? You're the little brother I always wanted. and more.. That's why I left you my picture book."
Ron took his headband off. "Wow." He said. 'I dunno what to say. Wow." He looked out at the assembling podium and scaffold. "Oh, crap. It's almost time. I gotta go, help Dad." He got up, stretched his legs, and ran off.
Justin sighed and watched him go. "Every Wednesday. I fucking hate Wednesday." Justin looked down, noticing something. Ron had forgotten his headband. "Ron!" He yelled. "Wait!"
Ron couldn't hear him, already far down the hill.
Justin stuffed it into his pocket. "I'll give it to him later." he said. "If I have a later."
Justin walked into the large common area, dirt packed down by many years of rabbit feet. A large platform was set to the right, with five nooses hanging from the scaffolds. Ron stood beside the platform, whispering into his father's ear. Ron's Father had a very grave and sad look about him, as always. Many others were hugging their family members tightly as they awaited the start of the ceremony.
Ron's father took the stage and stood on the podium, small glass bowl in one paw. It was filled with white square pieces of paper. "
I take no joy in what I am about to do." Ron's father said. "But I must."
"It is for the greater good." The crowd replied, completing the age old mantra.
After a long moment of hesitation, he stuck his paw into the bowl and pulled up one card. "Greg."
A young white rabbit came forward slowly to take the paper. His face was blank, ears completely limp. He looked at the paper, and walked over to the raised platform.
"Mitchell."
"This rabbit, spotted, did likewise and took his place.
Ron's father continued, slowly. Each pause made it feel as if the world had stopped. "John." Another rabbit. "Chris." Another.
Only one name left. Justin sighed and began to tear up, looking down at the ground. It was time. Ron's father stuck his paw in, and pulled out the final name. There was a long pause, while he looked straight at Justin.
Justin lowered his ears. He knew.
"Ron."
Ron stumbled, as if given an electric shock. He marched up to the podium as if his legs had been broken. Ron took the card, folded it into quarters, and held it tightly in his hand. He gave his father a very long hug, and whispered in his ear. Ron's father whispered back, crying. Justin could see him mouthing the words. "I love you too son."
Ron gave Justin a mournful look as he passed, combined with the very faintest of smiles. Justin began to cry. Ron's words running through his head. "I'm not afraid of death." He said. "I'm afraid of how. But death? Bro, everyone dies."
Ron slowly walked onto the scaffolding platform and slipped the noose around his neck.
Justin couldn't watch. He ran out of the assembly and back into the darkened halls, falling to his knees besides Ron's bed, dry heaving. The world was spinning.
"No. He whispered. "No no no no.."
Justin looked up. Every bed had a note on it. The will. Just in case.
Justin snatched the note off of Ron's bed and read it. It read. "To Justin. Brick."
"Brick? What? A brick?" He folded the note and stuffed it into his belt. He fell to the floor crying and lay there for a long time.
When he finally looked up, he saw it. One of the bricks under Ron's bed. It was loose. Very slowly, paws shaking, he reached out to it. He pulled it forward and let it fall onto the floor. It hid a dark recess.
Justin stuck his paw in, and felt around. He pulled out five things. A can opener, an old can of beans a knapsack made from cloth, a knife, and a doll.
Justin squeezed the doll He recognized it. The doll had been Ron's favorite toy when he was little.
"Where did you get this?" Justin whispered. "Knife? Beans? These are s hard to find. What were you doing?"
As he stuffed the items into the bag, the realization hit him. A conversation they'd had years ago, when they were kids.
"Do you think we could?"
"Escape?"
"Yea. I mean.. We could totally do it..right?"
"Not like this. We'd need stuff. A weapon, food..stuff like that. But.. Maybe. If we found a good place. The world is destroyed..We'd have to be careful."
"LEt's do it then. Let's escape."
Ron nodded his head. "Yeah."
"I'll do it." Justin whispered to himself in the dark. "I'll run away. I'll make a whole house, and I'll make a memorial..just for you." He curled up on Ron's bed and cried.
= = =
Justin awoke some hours later. The sun had already gone down. He rubbed his eyes, then sat bolt upright. "Fuck!"
Justin grabbed his bag and ran down the hall, turning and making his way down a steeper passage until he hit a room that was formed mostly with rock. "Hello?"
A very old mouse looked up. "Yes?"
"The bodies, did they take them yet?"
"No, but they will soon. You know one of them?"
Justin Nodded.
"Over there." He pointed. "I'm sorry."
Justin walked over to a long table, where five forms had been covered in cloth. He lifted the covers until he found the one he was looking for. Ron.
He lay there on the table, still, arms a his sides. If not for the rope burn around his neck, he might look asleep. Justin put his paws on Ron's face. "Ron.. I'm sorry..."
He slid his other paw into his pocket, where he found something unfamiliar and pulled it out. Ron's headband. Justin ran his paws over it then slowly put it on his own head. "If you were being buried I'd give it back..but they're just gonna recycle the clothes. I...why'd it have to be you bro?"
Justin sat down on the table and ran his paws over Ron's face, chest, and paws. The white square was still firmly held in the paws, the last thing he had touched. Justin pulled it out.
He shook his head and patted Ron's ears. Out of morbid curiosity, he unfolded the paper.
The young rabbit began to sob. The paper had only one name.
Justin.