I do not know how much you will understand what I’m to tell you, but… What the hell, I’ll tell it all anyway.

Maybe the best place I should start the story about myself is when things changed. You might never guess it, but once, I was just a normal, spoiled little brat. Until…

The First Winter arrived. Back then, I, Helen L’Ordean, was only twelve and had such a carefree life you can not even imagine. The best parents, beautiful home, great friends. I don't even want to think about it or I'll just start crying.

That First Winter I mostly stayed with my parents and a younger brother and sister inside our home’s basement. Naturally, almost nobody knew that the cold spell that suddenly came from the Northern Pole would stretch all the way down to Soumount Sea and would last for four months. Now that I think about it, I fear those scientists who knew all about it were never really allowed to release that information. Would not surprise me if they were all arrested for spreading anti-government propaganda or something and it all got hushed up really fast.

Well, at least I did not know about it. Never knew the snow could fall down so much. In honesty, it was not all bad in the beginning. Not like in the end. Then it was all bad.

Well, actually, at first, it wasn’t. At first, it actually felt nice. Snow falling down, peacefully and gracefully, covering palm trees and our citrus trees grove. Not having to go to school seemed like a holiday time. And playing outside with the soft white powder was probably the most fun I had ever had. You should have seen my little brother rolling in the snow. We would spend time outside till our noses would not freeze.

It all got old very fast. The snow never stopped falling and in two weeks it covered half of our home. You hardly could go outside anymore.

Then we got scared. Really scared. And cold.

The government tried to keep things in order, plowing the snow off the major roads, sending the assistance with their droids and flyers to places that became snowed in, not that you would know what droids or flyers are, you self-flash-burning savage idiot.

Talking about savage things… That's what happened in my land. There were just too many homes, too many people who needed assistance, and chaos soon followed.

I can tell you all about that later. Except, if you have not seen people so desperate to kill their neighbor for a stale piece of old bread, you would not know what I’m talking about.

But, anyway, back then, within two weeks, we could not even see the edges of the back roads leading around our estate, only treetops sticking out to give us some sense of orientation. Going anywhere was not an option since my dad, contrary to all the pressure I did during the whole year, did not buy a flyer that summer.

On the positive side, the old, decorative wood stove that the mother restored a few years ago proved a lifesaver. When our wind turbine froze and we used most of the backup hydrogen energy, we moved down to the basement and kept ourselves warm by lighting up the logs we got from chopping our palm trees.

When the snow finally stopped falling and the sun decided to emerge once again, everyone celebrated. But, not my father, Orson. He did not seem too happy.

“This is just going to get worse and worse,” he announced to us. “The climate has changed. The air jet streams and the ocean currents have shifted. The government is not reporting it. The scientists are being shut down. It is very obvious. And, I fear it is just going to get only worse.”

“But they say this is once in a million event,” my mother, Reisa, said and then added. “We’re supposed to be in a global warming period. How can we have colder weather than this?”

“Maybe it’s true what President Rottinx said, there is no global warming, that it’s all just a political propaganda,” ten-year-old Tocky said.

“The science does not lie. The numbers are just numbers. Not able to lie. They are what they are,” Orson said. “Who lies and manipulates are the people that crave to have power over others for their own selfish end. They will tell you that two plus two does not equal four, but you have your fingers and can add right, right?”

“But my teacher said-” Rocky protested.

“Hush, Tocky,” I stopped my little brother from talking any more gibberish. Times were obvious to get more difficult, and he had to get smart and had to do it really fast. “I know some of your teachers are too ignorant and teach you wrong things, but you can’t listen to them. Just listen to our parents. They are ten times smarter than any of them, and not just because our father is an AI engineer and mother a biochemist. You will see how many of your stupid teachers are still alive when things go back to normal. I would not be surprised if they all froze to death waiting for their loving government to try and save them.”

“You’re right, Helen,” my father told me then. “But you can put it in a nicer way. Sometimes it matters how you communicate not only what you communicate."

“Stiil, she is right. Things won’t go back to normal, ever!” our mother added, trying to sound brave as she looked determined and hugged her husband by the waist. “We will need to change to survive. Whatever happens, we need to survive.”

And survive we did.

As soon as the snow melted and floods subsided, my father dipped into the savings to buy another wind generator and improved his old one to be able to work during the deep freeze.

To my delight, he bought a bunch of machinery, including a flyer we used to fly around and do all sorts of things, even went to the beach. But not many days were left for the beach as the work on the estate seemed to never end.

I remember when they brought in the heavy machinery. My mom looked very worried.

“How much was that earth excavator?” she asked, confronting my father as we took delivery of three different ground moving machinery. “Are you sure we can afford it?”

“We have to invest in those. We were lucky to be able to find those. Trust me, they will be in a short supply really soon, especially these that can run on hydrogen.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You look so worried. You made millions in the last company you worked for. Certainly, we will be fine.”

“Those millions won’t count for much. Our savings are now next to useless. The prices are going to go up and up - the inflation that is coming is going to eat into it, making money next to worthless. What we need to do is use the cash we have to purchase stuff that can help us survive winters that are only going to get worse.”

“Okay.”

“Now, we were smart to have a fully stuffed pantry. Now, while I play in the garden with Helen, I want you to take a flyer and the kids and…”

“It would be cheaper if I take our truck.”

“The roads are bad. It would take you forever. Just fly around. That will save us a lot of time. Look for the deals. I want you to purchase all the canned food you can find cheap. Also, we will also have to find new ways to preserve the food. Fly north to the farmers and buy whole animals. We can butcher them ourselves. Just preserving them might be a problem.”

“Drying the meat is one option. Smoking works too. And you know, the hams when properly salted can last for years. And I can buy all the flour and honey to last us for years. Vitamins and supplements too. With enough money, we can buy a lot.”

“Yes, hun, use ten percent of our savings account and do just that. Medicine too. Think as if apocalypse is coming. Because it is.”

And that’s what my parents did. While others screamed about the weather, went protesting against the government, demanded responsibilities and retributions, and fought with each other, we prepared.

My dad taught me how to drive an excavator and we started to dig out our yard.

“What is this going to be?” I asked him as I dug exactly where he told me to.

“You will see,” he answered me mysteriously and, not wasting more time on talk, went to drive the loader to move the dirt around.

“Are you planning to use the space to hold the extra hydrogen we are producing?” I pressed on.

“No,” he answered, a rare smile coming up on his face. “But it’s good you reminded me. Our original tank is almost full. Tell your mother to look where we can buy another two tanks. We are in the middle of the summer. I hope they will not be too expensive now.”

When we made about a fifty meters long by six meters wide and three meters big hole, we started to pour in concrete on its floor and sides.

“What are we building a swimming pool?” I asked as it all seemed to be one giant hole ready to be filled with water.

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Don’t you see what it is?” he said and pointed to the iron posts that poked out of the cemented floor every few meters.”

“Oh, they will support the ceiling?” I asked, now finally understanding. “We are building an underground shelter then?”

“Yes. It was fastest to do it this way. We might have only two more months of good weather ahead of us. We need to finish this now.”

“What are we going to use that for?” I asked him.

“Whatever we need to,” he answered, but I knew, he already had a plan.

“Grow some veggies?” I asked.

“We can do that. With vertical farming, we can do quite a bit in a small space. Also, we could use the extra space for storage. The snow will give us water. The wind turbines the energy. Everything else, we need to do it here.”

“Hah,” I said, seeing the options opening up. “We could grow mushrooms easily. Would not even need that much light. And delicious red peppers. Full of vitamins and minerals.”

My father seemed happy with how I was thinking and shook his head. “And next year, weather permitting, we will do twice that size,” he said as he looked onward.

We were so lucky to have started to do it right there. The next year, everything cost five times as much. And, four years later, the snow fell for seven months straight and the winter never really ended. Yeah, my father was a very smart man… We would have stayed comfortably in that underground complex for a very long time… if only someone did not come and took our wind turbines right from above us.

A wind turbine, do you even know what that is, you savage piece of shit?

Mat muttered an incoherent answer, stopping his loud snoring as he moved his body around trying uselessly to find a comfortable place.