world war 3 has left the world confused and dying out, from a deadly disease only meant to kill the enemy. rather, it has mutated them, reverting them back to savage beasts. fight or flight instincts seem to be all that remain, and no sign of remorse seems to be within them. chances of survival are extremely low, the only way these two clean-cut british boys will survive, is if a damned miracle happened upon them.
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phil
“I told you I was never paranoid! the apocalypse is happening phil, and you always laughed at me for prepping for something like this.” dan reminded me, for about the millionth time.
dan was a huge conspiracy theory nut, but for once, it turned out to be pretty useful. in the closet of our bedroom, he kept a box with cans of food, water bottles, and a small switchblade that dan’s father jokingly gave him the day he went out to meet me. “he could be an axe wielding murder for all you know dan!” is what I heard him whispering to dan as soon as they got off the train. I let out a small chuckle, thinking back to our emo haircuts and my chemical romance tee-shirts.
“what’s so funny?” dan asked, lightly punching my shoulder.
“watch it buster, or I’ll hit the g note!” I replied, thinking about how naive we used to be. now, we’re walking down a street with half crumpled down buildings, people holding guns to their sides, not afraid to shoot anything that crosses them.
“hey watch where you’re going punk!” I hear a stranger yell, as I trip over a pair of legs, landing face first on the concrete.
“why don’t you keep your legs out of the wa- pj!” dan exclaims, reaching out a hand to help me up, and then a hand to fist bump pj’s.
“it’s been years man!” pj yells, slapping me on the back and pulling me in for a hug.
“yo, where’s chris?” I ask, thinking back to how they never seemed to leave each other’s sides. pj winces before responding, “he, um died. this guy came around our place, started stealing stuff you know? chris came after him, only winding up to get shot. I miss him so much."
dan and I glance at each, with pain in our eyes. chris had always been such a great friend, never failing to make us smile. god, I would give anything to go back to before this damned war. "gosh, I’m so sorry pj, I know how much he meant to you.” dan replied solemnly. “hey, at least he got to die doing what he loved, fucking around with people. he was such a prankster.” pj said, adding in a little chuckle at the end. “want to go get going? dan and I wanted to go get more food, but you should totally come with us!” I asked hoping to catch up with him. the three of us start heading down the street to raid a minute clinic on the corner, hoping to get some antibiotics and canned food.
we sat down in an abandoned alley eating stale chips with some awful instant coffee, and talked about our plans for the future. i had honestly no clue, since all of my plans had gone out the window. i wanted to move into a house, gets some dogs, maybe plant a vegetable garden. but now, we had to live day to day, question our safety, and not be afraid to protect each other. because now, in this dark time of the world, it’s fight or flight.
