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Bad Karma
a short story of the apocalypse
by
“You can't do it that way.”
“You mean kill myself?” he asked as he downed another shot.
“No. Not that. You can always kill yourself. But you have to go clean. Or the bad thing happens...”
“The bad thing? What can be worse than suicide? I mean life is fucking pain, man. Fucking pain. Ain't nothing worse than living the pain. Know what I mean?”
I nodded in the affirmative.
He fumbled a cigarette from his pack. I picked up his lighter off the table and ignited it. He had to grab hold of my hand to steady the wavering cigarette in his mouth. He puffed loudly as the flame took then exhaled straight into my face.
“Could you please not do that?” I said waving my hand in front of my face.
“Shorry,:” he slurred. “Forgot you don't smoke.”
He waved a hand over his head.
“Hey, cutie! Couple a more beers for me and my friend.”
I made a slashing motion at my throat then lifted one finger. The waitress saw me and nodded her head.
I Love You More
a short story of the apocalypse
by
An eerie howl floated on the wind. My sister shivered next to me. I ducked down behind the shattered dresser and knelt beside her. Putting my arm around her I pulled her close.
“I love you, sis.”
“I love you more,” she said. She'd been saying that since we were kids, since she was old enough to talk.
The howling sounded again, closer this time. MJ's teeth chattered together. But it wasn't from the cold air. The Pack's blood was up.
“You think-”
“No! They're hunting but they don't have a scent yet.”
“We need to get home, Bobby.”
“Soon, kid. Gotta get that food we saw yesterday and I can't do it alone.”
“But don't we have enough food already?”
“No.” And that was the truth. We needed enough for 8 months now that the winters were so damn long. We had maybe enough for 4 months between us but she didn't know that. I would figure out something. Always did.
“But we're close, sis. Real close. And you can help get us there.”
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Prom Queen and Goat Boy
a short story of the apocalypse
by
“There you are,” Jack observed. “Right on time.”
Jack lowered his binoculars carefully and glanced at the sky checking the angle of the sun. His survival could hinge on something as simple as foolishly allowing sunlight to glint off of the glass lenses of his high powered Zeiss Conquests. But Jack survived exactly because of his extreme, careful attention to detail.
Jack raised the binoculars again and looked down the mountain at the small party gathered at the bend in highway 180. An elegant woman in her mid fifties stood in the middle of a group of armed men dressed in a motley collection of hunting clothes and military issue camouflage gear. The men deferred to her and waited patiently as she gazed up the mountain.
“Where's the old man? Get sick and die did he?”
Her husband, the mayor, hadn't made the journey in almost three weeks. He'd been coughing and stooped the last few times Jack had observed the small procession. A couple of the men in this group coughed as well. All of them looked pale and gaunt.
“The 'H' getting you down, huh.”
H4N2 erupted on a population weakened by the effects of nuclear fallout, malnutrition and exhaustion. After all the scares, bird flu, swine flu, SARS, etc., mother nature had finally gotten it right. The kill rate was just above 50%.
I Like to Watch
a short story of the apocalypse
by
I like to watch, have since I was a little kid. Most people, including my coworkers, find my gaze disturbing. Whenever I visit some backwater country I inevitably see some peasant give me a sign to ward off the evil eye. I’ve had drug addicts and psychotics freak out when I stare at them too long. And girlfriends…well let’s just say the ones I’ve had didn’t last long.
The Bureau doesn’t seem to mind though. My ability is the one thing that separates me from ordinary agents. I don’t miss anything.
Ever.
But this time, sitting across the table from Malcolm Cundit, Hollywood power producer, I had the sneaking suspicion I’d missed something.
And that would be very bad.
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