Sitting there on the same old ratty recliner and gulping down his fourth brew in half an hour, Joe was not what you would call a socialite. Since he retired from the slaughter house a few months ago, it seemed like all he did was sit on his chair and listen to radio shows all day.
Deciding that this was a good enough time as any to go to the head, he pushed himself off the chair, but hesitated when something the news reporter said caught his attention.
"This just in, there are widespread reports of heavy damage and fires from falling . . . " Just then, a loud explosion rocked the house and threw Joe to the floor.
"What the hell was that?" He muttered, still dazed from being knocked down.
Unfortunately that was the last thing he said. Just then, a section of the ceiling came crashing down on top of him, crushing his skull, killing him instantly.
Deep down, under two miles of earth, concrete, and steel. This fact was not lost to Johanne Elken, head of the Northern Continent Defense Group (NCDG). And at this moment he was voicing his concern to the leader of the free world standing next to him.
"Sir, we estimate that at the rate which the meteorites are impacting the planet, it will be destroyed within 24 hours."
"What do you mean destroyed?"
"I mean, that it will be literally ripped apart!" Johanne said as he took off his wire rimmed glasses and absently
cleaned the lenses off with the edge of his shirt.
