The Last Moron On Earth

I awoke suddenly atop my lumpy couch to a sudden tightness in one of my legs. Due to an unfamiliarity with my new body, attempting to contract my leg to ease the tightness resulted in my rolling off the couch to the dirty carpet below.

Despite both the minor pain of the prior cramp and the short fall, I couldn't help but laugh at my situation, given I was incapacitated by a charlie horse.

I spent a day completely alone without a computer, I'm allowed a terrible joke or two.

Getting up on all fours, I stretched as well as I could, sighing happily at the few pops running along my back.

Despite yesterday's unusual fear, I'd have to say I was pretty okay with God turning me into a horse. Sure, everything we've made as a species somehow involved the use of fingers and I was at a severe disadvantage now, but there were a few upsides: I found that at distances my vision was thankfully unaffected. No more corrective lenses for me! I deduced from this one observation that he had probably fixed up all my various ails before deciding to take everyone and leave. Hell of a rapture this was turning out to be.

After a half-hour of my usual morning routine, I decided to try my hand...er, hoof, at cooking a more complex meal, as the night prior I only cooked a simple spaghetti dinner. Boiling water and adding oil is simple enough that hooves weren't too much of an obstacle. I decided that my first real breakfast as a horse should be one of champions: the standard bacon and eggs. Simple and delicious.

None of that was simple and at least half of the meal was arguably the worst thing I'd ever eaten.

Never mind that there were several shell fragments in the egg, the bacon was the kicker. It gave off warning signs whilst cooking, reeking of death and grease, but I powered through the stench and was rewarded with....well, the previous apartment tenant had left their old fridge full of stuff before they moved out, and I moved in a good two months after that. The bacon tasted exactly like THAT smelled.

A quick check of other foods forced me to face a reality I never considered: big-eyed horses shouldn't eat meat.

I washed the tears from my eyes and the bile from my face. My hopeful mood was destroyed. That sadistic jerk, I thought. Probably observed our twisted obsession for butchering other life on this planet, and turned it around to sate His cruel humor. Bastard.

Despite the tragedies faced thus far, I knew I would have to continue onward, deciding to actually investigate the assumption that I was the city's lone inhabitant.

After a brief struggle with my keys (try starting your car without hands, its really hard!), my dinky old Ranger coughed to life. Given that I was about as tall as a newborn Clydesdale, was just able to reach the pedals. My backwards bending legs would have some trouble maneuvering  to actually work them like I was accustomed to, but so long as I kept a level head and low speed I figured I should be able to drive about as well as the typical Californian.

Like all good plans, it did not survive first contact with the real world; driving out of the apartment's parking lot and observing absolutely zero traffic as far as the street went, I had to push my truck to its admittedly low limit. Predisposed to lowered speeds in the city, 70 miles-per-hour was quite exhilarating. Figuring that running around shouting for others was for chumps, I settled on attempting donuts in parking lots and honking the horn a bunch of times. I rolled down my windows and turned the stereo's volume as high as it could go, playing some trashy band I used to like back in high school.

If there were any others in the city, they'd likely find me just to shut me up, and I got to have some fun. Its a brilliant plan.

One poor decision later, I now know that electronics store facades aren't Ranger-proof. I can move on with my life, forever better with this knowledge.

I split my lip on the steering wheel, and I'm pretty sure there's some wicked nasty bruising underneath this fur coat, but I didn't die so thats a plus.

I guess I bled enough speed before the crash to ensure that the airbags didn't deploy, and I was able to back the truck out park it as intended on the street.

"Or maybe this old piece of crap is just a deathtrap," I mused aloud to nobody.

As I climbed out of the truck, a pale service dog (if its adorable blue vest and SERVICE DOG|DO NOT PET patch were anything to go by) slowly approached from a building adjacent to the wrecked store. It paused on the sidewalk, looking from me to the shattered glass that used to make up the window. Shaking its head, it faced me again and started barking, and turned back towards where it came. Looking over its shoulder, it kept barking at me and continued a few steps onward.

Noticing I hadn't moved from where I stood, it began whining with a paw raised, ears splayed to the side.

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I began to follow the dog. At my movement it bounded down the street to a pretty sad looking apartment building. Leaving me in the dust, it ran in the open entrance, comically peeking its head out seconds later to observe my progress. Unsatisfied, it began barking again. Eager at the prospect of meeting another horse-person, I quickened my pace as well as I could.

The animal led me to its home; the apartment was small but homey. Pictures lined the entire room, depicting a smiling older woman and her children at different points in their lives. Pressing on, I followed the dog to a small room, finding it whimpering by an empty bed. Disappointment.

"Well that sucks," I thought aloud. The dog's ears swiveled in my direction, though it remained planted by the bedside. "At least they did, in fact, leave behind other life. Little victories I guess."

There was nothing more I could do there, so I just returned my truck and pressed onward.

It was a good hour after I left the apartment that I realized I should have searched the pantries for supplies. I don't know how long it will be until people come back (people don't just disappear for no good reason, they had to be coming back) but until they do all bets are off.

Wait a minute....

With a new goal in mind, I set off towards towards a bank. There is no room for shame in this car, and I threw out decency when I hit that window. Besides, who else has wanted to rob a bank? Now its as easy as walking in!

It was less walking in and more 'kick a glass door in, run off in panic at the alarm, realize I'm an idiot and press on, try and get behind the tellers' desk, and remember that bulletproof glass is a thing that exists'.  Those pesky bandit barriers didn't deploy, but without an axe or key, I wasn't getting in.

So my big heist turned into me taking all the coins from a courtyard fountain outside the bank. A payday is a payday no matter how small, or at least that's the lie I'll tell myself.

In all my splashing and grumbling, I didn't realize I wasn't alone until I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Startled, I bolted upright and promptly tripped, completely falling in the chilly water.

Dripping dirty fountain water, I turned towards the intruder. A bubblegum pink horse significantly smaller than I was standing by the fountain's edge, gazing at me with a raised eyebrow. A utility belt was hanging loosely on its frame; among the various pouches were a pistol in its holster and a glistening golden badge clipped off the side. Oh shit....

"Well, uh, hello there....officer," I began. First contact with another living being capable of communication, and its with a cop outside a bank I tried to rob.

"And here I was thinking I'm stuck in some crazy dream all by my lonesome; now I know I've gone mad," the little horse mumbled under its breath. "Just what the hell are you doing kicking windows and splashing around?"

"Uh, well you see, I wanted to make a withdrawal, and the bank was closed," I answered, motioning towards the bank. Idiot, don't play dumb with the horse cop! "Um, why are you so...colorful? And small? Are you like, twelve or something?"

I grinned and looked down towards his glaring face, finally taking note of a strange appendage. A strange glowing appendage.

"Hey, dude, why's your face glowing? And whats with the-"

Life is just a series of head trauma following poor decisions.

I came to my senses out of the pool to a throbbing head and the struggling grunts of the officer; he was attempting to place me into the back seat of his cruiser, but the difference in size and hooves in general complicated things.

"Finally up, that's good; Listen, I don't want to deal with any more shit than I have to, would you mind getting in the damn car?" He leaned against the driver door, panting lightly. We were a good fifty feet from the fountain. I was both impressed and insulted; I'm not that heavy.

"How, ugh...how did you do that?" I asked, wincing. The world seemed to spin slightly, and my head was absolutely killing me. "Did I just get tazed?"

The officer horse grinned, and his weird horn began to glow once more. A short baton was floating in midair, surrounded by the same pale glow.  "Look, kid, I don't get it either, but we need to get back to the station. Are you gonna' get in the car or am I going to have to hit you again?"

Slowly rising to my full height, I looked around and spotted my truck across the street.

"Not that I don't trust your driving skills," I began, "but I think I'd rather follow along in my own truck, thanks." He shrugged, and holstered the baton onto his belt, closed the door, and climbed into his cruiser. Even with the seat as far forward as it was, he was quite a ways away from reaching the pedals, though once the glow returned and the car roared to life I realized he was using that weird telekinesis to control the car. Cheating bastard. I guess it was okay, since he was so small and cute and everything.

Our two vehicles made the trek onward, one of them driving more erratically than the other. I don't care if he beaned me five minutes prior, a police escort in a deserted city is a green light for recklessness.

We arrived at what had to be the most un-intimidating police station I'd seen.

The large, blocky structure was flanked by taller office buildings and wimpy trees. Walking inside, I could have easily confused it for just another office building. A German Shepherd came bounding towards us as we entered; the dog, almost as tall as the officer himself, began an erratic display of happiness as only a dog can.

"Hey, hey there Max, I told you I'd be back." It was the first genuine smile I'd seen on the little pink horse, and it proved infectious. I don't even like dogs, but watching him reunited with the animal was downright adorable. I took a step towards them and the mood was soured with the usual dog greeting of growling and barks. Dogs suck. Ignoring the dog to the best of my ability, I had to ask about his apparent urgency to get here.

"Okay, so did you just drag me down here to get barked at or what?"

He rolled his eyes. "Looking past this pink as hell horse crap, I woke up yesterday and found a city of almost two hundred-thousand people empty. Did you even try checking your twitters and myspaces? Nobody's there.  I figured that any other people remaining would want to stick together." Meeting my gaze, he continued. "Did you stop and consider what this implies though? The entire grids gonna go sooner rather than later. Its already been a day, and while the lights are still buzzin', they might not be for much longer. Now, the station's on its own separate grid, and when that goes we've still got a diesel generator in the basement."

"Oh, well, thanks then. I guess," I honestly hadn't thought that this whole crazy scenario might extend beyond the weekend. "So what, we just chill here in this fortress and ride out the happening? Pretty cool plan, I guess, mister....?"

"Sam. Just....just call me Sam. And no, we most certainly will not just 'chill out' and do nothing. As a matter o' fact, I brought you here because I need help. If we want to find others, we've got to think ahead. That means food, medical supplies, beds. We've got some of that, but honestly I don't know what to expect, or how long we have to hold out for.  Might as well be prepared for anything."

"Is there a point to this or..."

"Dammit, I just said we only have basic provisions to last us a short while at best, and while I'd love to go out and get us situated, I've got to figure out how to use that damn radio and get a message out that we're here. It was only a stroke of luck that the bank's alarm was set off, letting me know that there was someone else with me. How many other knuckleheads do you think might be out there, thinking they're all alone? The more we get together, and the sooner we get it done, the better off we'll be. So, how about it? Think you can do that?"

The rattling of crappy cart wheels echoed throughout the massive hardware store. Seeking to make the most of my trip, I tied four carts together with rope (from the rope aisle!) and simply roamed the aisles, dropping in whatever caught my eye. To be completely honest, I had absolutely no idea  what we would need.

The first cart was full of hand and power tools, and replacement blades. B-Cart was full of the chargers and batteries for the power tools, and as many extension cords and splitters as I could fit. Worst Cart had the fewest number of items but weighed the most; a portable generator, a bunch of car batteries, and a few jumper cables. The last cart was full of several varieties of duct-tape, all sorts of electrical wire, several cans of spray-paint, and that handy universal nozzle spray-gun attachment so I could actually work the cans. And rope. From the rope aisle.

"Because 'you don’t fuckin’ know what you’re gonna need it for. You just always need it.'" I gleefully shouted in my best McMarbus accent. Honestly, I'm glad nobody was around to hear it.

I certainly would not have been able to move this stupid train as a human, but I guess horses are pretty good at pulling things; who knew? The hardest part was tying the knots, and the next hardest was maneuvering the carts around corners, but I was still done in less than an hour.

I loaded it all into the bed of my truck, and went back for a bunch of those metal 5-gallon gascans, and a garden hose. Just in case. I'd noticed a slight sagging of the car before, but with it fully loaded I was able to appreciate just how low the truck sank. Not much I could do about that now.

I was halfway through the diesel cans (I had an even split of 4 gas 4 diesel) when I noticed a the streetlights nearby flickering. Lights that were on in adjacent buildings would suddenly shut off, unlike any regular blackout I'd experienced. Tauntingly they flickered, rushing me with an unbeatable deadline.

Fuck what I said about the hose, when the pump dies I'm getting the hell out of- With an ominous crack, everything shut off.

I thought I had dealt with the city's silence before, but it paled in comparison to just how deathly silent it was now. There was something off about it this time.

The silence was heavier, you know?

Thicker.

Without even the soft buzzing streetlamps to accompany my presence, I could hear my own heart beating in my ears; a soft squish punctuating each pulse. What went beyond the silence and darkness, however, was the emptiness.

Not my solitude, but...well, it was odd. Aside from the whole horse thing (and the mild concussion, I suppose), I hadn't felt any different while the grid was still up, but with its leave I felt as if a part of myself had gone with it, carried off by some imaginary breeze.

I don't know how long I spent sitting in the darkness, and I don't know when I finally started driving 'home'; hell, I don't even know how long I had been driving for.

All I remember is that I left the truck full of supplies parked outside the police station. I ignored Sam's questioning and his damn dog's incessant barking.

By some miracle I found my way to a small sofa in a fancy looking office room.

I was asleep before my head met the sofa's armrest.