They say you can tell your generation by your “what I was doing when…” story. If somebody can remember where they were when Kennedy got assassinated, then they’re a Baby Boomer. If you remember where you were when Kurt Cobain died, then you’re a… I dunno, Gen X or something. If you’re a Millennial, it’s September 11th, at least here in the US.
For me I’d have to say it was The Flash. Big, nasty, giant explosion. It happened miles and miles away – I think somewhere on the coast? But even as far inland as I was I saw it. I’d like to think that that was my defining “what I was doing when” thing for my generation. But it’s not like I can ask around to see if that’s really a thing. I’m kind of in a generation by myself these days.
Anyway I was eating cereal when it happened. Lucky Charms, of course, objectively the best cereal. I keep hoping I’ll find some one of these days. No luck yet, but I’ll keep looking.
The news was on, talking about mounting tensions and threats and increased NORAD presence. Same stuff they’d talked about for years so it’s not like I was paying attention. I was still cramming for my math test that day. Fuck trig. At least that came out of it, right, never having to do trig again?
Next thing you know there’s a huge flash of light from the kitchen windows and then nothing much at all.
Turns out it was a bomb. Who knew, right? Some real Fallout junk. I forget if it was an A-bomb or an H-bomb or something else. It didn’t seem to matter in all the other shit going on at the time.
The weeks after were the worst. The evacuation, the refugee camp. State of emergency. Checkpoints. More bombs, other places. I figured we’d be fine, since we were a no-dig-deal kind of state. Not much but corn around here, low population density, so no good bomb targets.
They kept saying that there’d be an EMP, that we should all brace for it. But it never came. Can I just tell you how crazy glad I am that never happened? I can lose everything else, alright, fine, but I’d fucking die without my phone. Even when shit was crazy, I had CandyCrush and Drake to keep my mind off of things.
The radiation did impact us after all, though. Apparently it moves and weather carries it. I never liked rain anyway. People started getting sick. My cousins, my parents, even the soldiers manning the checkpoints at the camp, even if they tried to hide it. I seemed to be the only one who wasn’t bothered. Sure my hair fell out, but I got over it. I didn’t shrivel up or start spitting blood like everyone else did.
Saying goodbye really sucked. In a sick kind of way, I wish it had taken longer, so I could have been with people for longer. But, no, I guess I don’t really wish that. Then I’d have kept seeing them suffer. Most people can’t even speak by the end of it, when they’ve got radiation sickness really bad they just grunt a lot. It’s not easy to watch.
When I realized I was the only one left I hung out for a while. Until the bodies started to smell. I know, I know, I should have buried them, but I’ve always been kinda’ small and stringy for my age. Not really the champion of the presidential fitness test over here. Instead I packed up some gear and started walking. I figured I’d find another camp by the end of the week.
But the only camps I found were the same story. Over and over. Lots of animals were dead too. But if I was somehow resistant or immune or whatever to the radiation, it couldn’t be just me. I couldn’t possibly be the only conveniently mutated weirdo in the world. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself.
It didn’t occur to me to keep track of time until I started noticing the seasons change. Since I started counting it’s been about two years. I’ve gotten pretty solid at living like this. I don’t see the bodies anymore, they’re all dried up or decomposed, even when I’m somewhere they ought to be. And animals turned out to be a lot more resistant than we ever were, so the hunting’s alright. I can start a fire. I raided a Bass Pro Shop and now I carry a tent around with me. I like to think of it as extreme camping.
Through it all, my phone’s been with me. I am way the fuck overdue for an upgrade, but I gotta say that that solar charger is the best purchase I ever fucking made. I wish I’d had the chance to download more apps and music before it all went to shit, though. I know all the words to every song I’ve got on here. I’ve demolished Candy Crush about a hundred times. PokemonGo is still my fave though.
It’s funny. I never got into the hype when it came out but it’s been the best thing I’ve had out here since all that bad stuff happened. When I was walking, looking for people, it gave me something to keep me busy on the road. And when I figured out that there were no people, just me, well, I started to go a little funny in the head for a bit. But having something to do kept me walking.
The loneliness is the worst part these days. But the Pokemon… they help. I know they aren’t real. And I know that, someday, the satellite that keeps this dumb thing running is going to fall out of the sky or spin out into space. But until then I’ve got my team. I’ve got all my little buddies.
I don’t think I’ll ever catch ‘em all. They’ve got those special ones you can only get in Australia and stuff. And I don’t know how to trick my phone into thinking I’m in those places. I’d Google it, but the real web’s been out forages now. But I’m pretty sure I’ve caught everything that isn’t gated.
Do you have any idea of how many fucking rattatas there are in the world? It’s ridiculous. But even they’re good to see. Just another little friend to pick up out here. Just me and the pokemon. The Pokemon Master At The End Of The Universe. Suck it, Ash.
It was fun for a while to just take all the gyms and make them mine. A team of one, slowly taking over the world. Then I started to feel like I was making the other two team extinct and that made me feel weird, so I just beef up my own gyms now. Unless I feel like red’s getting too big for their britches and need to knock them down a peg and stick a Magikarp up there. Just for the fun of it.
I’ve got a pretty solid team. For a while I tried to specialize. Only fire types for a while. When I got sick of that I tried for only bug types. But then I got all up in my head about it and didn’t want to feel like I was leaving any of them behind. I know they’re not real. I know. But, man, I need them. I know I do. Is it so wrong to feel like, maybe, in some weird way, they kind of need me, too? After all, I’m the only one left in the world to play. When I go, they go.
It was easier one I got all the items. I’ve seen more of the Professor than I ever wanted to. I try to conserve my stuff for when I’m in a good area, like in some old city ruins. Like now. Pokestops all over the place, way better than out along the highway. My own poke-city to play with. A city of pokemon. A world of pokemon. And me.
What are those pink petals doing? I haven’t dropped a lure in ages. There’s no way I did it by mistake, I’m not cracking up that much…
I didn’t drop that lure. I really really didn’t drop that lure.
Who dropped that lure?
