3620 Days

A group of friends goes off the grid after winning the $1 billion Powerball jackpot. Response to the Medium Magic flash fiction prompt, “You just won $1 billion lottery. What are your first steps?”

“Man, I’d love a bowl of Captain Crunch right now. How did we not think to add Captain Crunch to the list?” The six foot tall, sandy haired man in sweats named Steve, rummaged through the ikea cabinet.

“Because neither you, nor any of the rest of us, nor any of the rest of the adult population for that matter, normally eat the stuff,” the petite brunette named Jocelyn said.

Along with those two, the party living in the underground house consisted of Layla, John, Irving and Rebecca. The six had been friends since high school, which is how they had such a well developed plan for just in case. They’d all been together the first time they had learned about what happened when people won the lottery on the news.

“A Denver woman is the lucky winner of the ten million dollar jackpot tonight. Asked what she’d do with all that money, she said she’d probably pay off bills, give some to family members, then see what was left. That’s a good plan since she’ll have to first payout roughly half of the amount for federal, state and city taxes and that includes taxes on whatever money she gives away. Since she opted for the money all at once instead of over 30 years she also starts with about 25 percent less. Still, not a bad day’s work.”

“Are you kidding me?” John had asked. “What a crock! So ten million is more like. . . “

“3.5 million or there abouts,” Layla supplied.

“How is that fair? They said the Powerball was worth 10 million, not three and half! Three and a half and ten are not the same thing!” Irving said.

“If I won, I would find a way to prevent the government and greedy relatives from coming after my winnings,” Steve said. That had touched off a discussion that they’d returned to dozens of times through high school and later when they’d all ended up moving in together during college.

After they’d each suffered through bad first jobs, they’d begun taking the matter more seriously. They’d agreed to all buy ten lottery tickets every time there was a new powerball jackpot. If any one of them won, they’d all split whatever earnings there were. They’d even had a legal agreement drawn up to that effect.

About ten years ago, they had begun planning in earnest. It started as one of those late night drunken activities. They’d started talking about how they could live off the grid if they won. Jocelyn, who was an architect, drew out a sketch of an underground house, powered by a personal generator, and they’d gone to the store and bought a bunch of canned food and other staples to stock it with. John, the IT genius of the group, came up with ways they could use the internet once in a while from a public wifi without ever being tracked.

They’d actually built the house themselves over the course of the ten years, whenever money would allow them to continue it. They’d all learned about contracting and managed to construct a pretty comfortable structure, accessed by a series of caves. They figured even if they never won the Powerball, it was a good investment in case there was a nuclear war or to use as a vacation house. That last part came from Steve. The others just rolled their eyes.

Still they’d stuck with it, rotating the food and adding to the decorations and furnishings. Over the years it had taken on the appearance of a fraternity house thanks to the mismatched decor and other items different people brought in at different times.

Then the day they never thought would actually come did. Irving called Rebecca first.

“Hey, Becca. Did you happen to write down the Powerball numbers for tonight?”

“Yeah, hold on. Okay here they are 4,8, 29,62, 41, 3.”

After a couple seconds of silence, Irving said, “Could you repeat them one more time?” Rebecca did.

“Uh, Becca. . . “

“Yeah?”

“I think we just won.”

Now it was Rebecca’s turn to go silent for several seconds. “What did you say?”

“I. Think. We. Just. Won.”

After the screaming between the two of them subsided, which was followed by four more phone calls and more screaming, the six got together at the house, to make sure everything was ready and to decide what last minute things needed to be done. They each moved out of their apartment without leaving a forwarding address and moved everything into the house.

Irving turned in the ticket alone. He was allowed to remain anonymous for a period of time but the length didn’t matter because by the time it was up neither he nor they would be able to be found. Since there were no other winners they’d won the entire $1 billion. They’d deposited it, then quickly withdrew the money and put it all in a safe in the house. All that cash was a pretty sobering sight.

They’d done their research and determined that ten years would be long enough for them to stay off the grid before they could resurface under different identities. Then they’d be able to put the money in offshore accounts since no one would be looking for them by then.

In the meantime, they’d work on improving themselves. They built an enormous library and gym for that purpose. They bought board games and videos by the hundreds. The guys had decided to write a bunch of post apocalyptic zombie books. Not to be out done, the women had decided to write historical romances. They would take turns checking the internet at local hotspots for news, new developments and any other research they thought was important.

It really wasn’t so long when you thought about it. At least it hadn’t seemed like it until they’d been living together for a month. Then they’d all realized just what they’d given up.

“Are you sure no one bought any Captain Crunch?” Steve asked, looking through the pantry again. “It seems like something someone would have thought to buy.”

3620 days to go, Jocelyn thought. It’ll be fine, if I just stay away from the knives. She picked up her coffee mug, and walked out of the room. 3620 days to go.

© Natalie Frank, Ph.D. (Clinical Psychology) 2019

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