“Never would have thought of it.”
“I’ll get you some coffee. We need to save the caffeine pills.”
“Max, wait, I need to…”
“What?”
“I just wanted to say… I don’t know. I’d be dead if it wasn’t you. I’ve got to admit, I was starting to doubt you. But you’re the reason we’re all alive.”
Max shook his head. “I’m not the reason,” he said. “The truth is, I’d be dead if I were on my own.”
“But you keep risking your life trying to save everyone else.”
“You don’t get it,” said Max. “The only way we’re going to get through this thing is with each other. All of us.”
“Sounds kind of cheesy,” said John. “But I guess it’s true.”
Max nodded.
“I still don’t think you’d be dead though. You’re made of tougher stuff than that.”
“It could happen,” said Max. “I’m sure it will at some point. Haven’t you read how long people lived in hunter gatherer times?”
“About forty, right?”
“The average is low,” said Max. “So you’ve got to imagine that a lot died well before whatever the number was. And that was before guns, back when the population was minuscule compared to now. The population must be thinning out, judging from what I saw, and what you’ve told me about the city. But, still, it’s dense compared to any other historical period.”
John didn’t know what to say. “Hell of a thought,” was all he could muster. He was exhausted, and he felt like he’d never been rested. Sleep was only a memory.
John turned his hand over, and examined the fingers on his left hand, where the nails had been pulled off with pliers. It still hurt like hell. Cynthia, fortunately, hadn’t gotten the plier treatment. Just a couple light cuts on her skin.
“That guy was really something, right?” said John. “He didn’t make sense. Nothing about him made sense.”
“Well,” said Max. “It made sense to him. That’s all that mattered.”
“He was just nuts.”
“Yeah. And there are more out there like him. You saw those prison tattoos just like I did. But not just people who were in prisons, but the ones who roamed free, but were hemmed in by society. Now the world is nothing but a playground. No rules. Nothing to stop them.”
“You really know how to cheer someone up.”
A voice suddenly cut through the radio’s static. “Help… help… Is anyone out there?”
John and Max exchanged a look.
The voice had faded out. Nothing but static.
“Did you change it? The station?”
“No,” said Max.
“What happened, then?”
“I don’t know. But we’ve got to keep listening.”
About Ryan Westfield
Ryan Westfield is an author of post-apocalyptic survival thrillers. He’s always had an interest in “being prepared,” and spends time wondering what that really means. When he’s not writing and reading, he enjoys being outdoors.
Contact Ryan at ryanwestfieldauthor@gmail.com
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Ryan Westfield
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters and events are products of the author’s imagination.
Stock image for cover provided by Neo Stock.