Ragnarök: A short story

So this is a short story I wrote last month.. enjoy!

The end of the world came as many had thought it would, with a meteor crashing into the planet and causing a mass extinction. When I say the end of the world, of course I meant for mankind. This rock we call Earth has stood the test of time against many collisions of similar magnitude. A silent fireball shot across the sky, then a bright light could be seen across the horizon. My hair on my arms stood erect as if to actually leap from my skin and run. I stood there silent, no whispering, not a gasp, not a murmur could be heard from those around me. And while I heard nothing, I am uncertain on there being utter silence. My mind had frozen, I was left blank.. Without thought. I couldn't think if I'd tried. I was terrified, glorified, mortified and mesmerized all in this instant. This instant when the skyline shone brighter than the brightest day I'd seen. The irony that while my eyes were filled with brightness I myself was bright eyed. I was also wide eyed and cross eyed - they had actually crossed when they had grown dry from mine not blinking. I felt mortality and immortality at the same time. For in the moment before one thinks they might die the world is very slow. If I could have thought, I would have been able to rethink every thought I'd ever thought and then some. But I couldn't... It was all so silent. Restless and unmoving.
Through the silence somehow I snapped back into reality, someone had grabbed my arm and I was pulled then through the metal hatch that would save my life. We were hiding underground. When I say we, I mean those of us that knew this was coming. The government had chosen twenty of us to be the sole survivors all based on various skills and we were split evenly, ten and ten by our gender. Thank god I hadn't been a homosexual I'd have been left out to dry. We were the chosen few to repopulate the world, well us and them of course. The president and his family, as well as some very well to do's were hiding out beneath ground elsewhere. We weren't to know the location of course and they had told us we would be informed "when it had passed." To which my thought was, "if it passes we won't have to worry about it though, it's if it hits that it's a big deal!" The biggest...
I was in charge of keeping these blasted computer's running after the hit. Like they really mattered I thought, "what good is the internet if there's no one online?" But of course they needed someone who could maybe rekindle a bit of familiar technology when we all emerged. So among us was one well versed in electrical engineering, a doctor, a botanist, a psychologist, so on and so forth. Each of us dealing with a field the government deemed necessary to "restart." The funny thing was while we were all very good at our trades we were by no means "the best." Some of us were professors, but not at ivy league schools. I, myself, taught at a community college and my only claim to fame was putting an end to a computer virus that had started spreading uncontrollably through a network that actually found its way into one of the Pentagon's servers.
Apparently, there were other groups similar to our own all over the world just in case a group was "lost." We were all gathered and placed in this protective underground vault which they dubbed the "cocoon." And our number, should we contact or be contacted was 013. The three digit number led me to believe that we were going to be in good company should this scheme to defy the gods work.
So here I am writing my own literature. They didn't even give me a chance to grab a good read. I'm stuck here Ernest Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms and once you've read that, you've read it. I mean how am I supposed to be surprised about Henry getting his kneecap blown off more than once? It was the only thing I could grab though as they shuffled me out the door. I had no idea they would be carrying me away for a long period of time but I figured it would be long enough to where I'd need something to keep my mind occupied, so I snatched the book on my way out. There it was sitting on the stand I used to keep my mail on by the door. I'd set it there like you do anything you want people to notice, "Oh, you've read A Farewell to Arms?" "Why yes, yes I have," you say that right before sitting down in leather bound chairs and smoking on bubble pipes to talk politics - which is all just some kind of rouse to look like you have a brain anyway. Like any of that matters now that the freaking world is crashing down around us.
So I sit here with a book, a computer, and my thoughts. I wonder what lies ahead and in the most realistic since I know my life is already over. No I didn't physically die with everyone else, but I'm left knowing that I can never do the things I had aspired to do. I may never see another sunrise or sunset because only god knows how much longer the surface will cook. I may have a family, but there's hardly a choice. I'm left with the older one, the fat one, or the nerdy one (and everyone has dibs on her). My point being that none of them are my type and it all feels so strange when you're down here. I couldn't fathom falling in love right now.
Hell I'm lucky I don't have kids or wife. It seems that was one of the criteria in picking us for this. I mean I had friends and family that I'm absolutely torn up about, but no children. I'm really surprised they didn't pack us two psychologists for this shit though, hell even three. This is a rough stint were having to ride out down here in the darkness. And knowing that everything we've known and loved up there is all just gone now is terrifying in its own way. Imagine everything you've learned about over your entire lifetime being meaningless. I mean, who cares about history, or politics, or racial inequalities, or if there is or isn't a god? I mean, if there's a hell its directly above my head now.