The Last Moron On Earth

I left the city of smoke behind, and, with the dawn of a new day, drove back towards my home.

Funny word that. Home. No more fitting word available for an appropriated police station during the end of the world. Regardless, I was back. Fucking *home***.

As I went to park my dad's truck, I noticed that the massive glass window had been smashed. We didn't even lock the door when we left.

Walking in cautiously, two things were obvious: the dog was gone, and a majority of our stuff was gone. Well, many of the tools were left, but what was unloaded had obviously been messed with, and much of the provisions Sam had acquired were missing. What kind of asshole takes other people's stuff and leaves? Further investigation led to the revelation that someone had completely raided the armory. Weapon racks and armor lockers were smashed open and completely bare. Evidently, whoever was here intended to make the most of the apocalypse.

Undaunted, I went looking for the radio Sam had set up when the building lights flickered and died. Just my luck.

With a shake of my head and a soft chuckle, I turned tail and left. No point in staying here. With zero plans in mind, I reentered my truck and drove away.

***

I had this feeling that I was cursed; everything I would do was bound to end in disaster. I ought to try and enjoy regardless.

"Fang it! Fang it!" cried a pale man from the back of a wicked looking car.

I had been driving to another hardware store with only the sound of the engine keeping me company; my father listened to sports radio, but given the disappearance of Colin Cowherd, there was nothing to listen to.

The apocalypse, as it turns out, is a pretty boring place.

I remember friends jokingly mentioning that they couldn't wait for a zombie apocalypse for various reasons, one being that they could hook up a game system (or porn) to a movie projector. While I couldn't manage video games with these cracked hooves, I could probably get the projector running, so I appropriated a generator and found a small movie theater.

I only had power running to the projector room, and not the entire theater. So sound was out, but I set up some portable speakers I'd found on display at a Best Buy, and hooked it all up to cables running to the generator I'd placed outside. I may not be bright, but even I know that gas emissions kill (but mostly, generators are loud).

With a bit of toying around, I managed to start the computer and get the projector running, and was enjoying that reboot of the old 80's movie franchise for the third time today. It was pretty good

"I am the man, who grabs the Sun...riding to Valhalla!" My voice joined Nux's in the small theater. While the haggard man turned to address Bane, I fumbled around in my seat; I was going to do it right this time.

Raising the can to my mouth in time with the movie, I sprayed whipped cream amongst a fit of laughter. I was certainly glad there was nobody around to witness my display, but it was loads of fun regardless.

***

I had reached the bog scene with the Crows when I was racked by a churning sensation in my gut. Seems a diet of theater snack-foods and lukewarm soda was a mistake, and I'd found myself vacating my stomach contents in the nearest bathroom. Its funny, people have been gone for some time now, and the men's room still has piss on the floor. And I don't have shoes...

I hadn't clothed myself since waking up nude yesterday, and decided that even though I felt strangely okay with this nude thing, I should at least find some method of preventing the erosion of my hooves.

I'd been driving for almost two hours, lost. I thought I knew this city well enough, but I guess I relied on my phone's navigation apps a heck of a lot more than I thought.

I finally caught sight of a Big 5, and pulled into a parking space. Old habits and all.

Given the way things were going, and all shops encountered thus far, I had actually expected the shop to be open. It wasn't; the bandit cage was shut and locked. Okay, now the world is *encouraging** this...*

With a cry of  'Witness!', a hearty laugh, and the screeching of tires, I bypassed the metal gate by way of '04 Silverado.

X<

I shook myself alert from my stupor to the deflating of the airbag, and a high-pitched hissing; I only cleared the entrance and didn't strike any counters, yet there was white smoke coming out of the engine bay. Like a rock, yeah right...

Climbing out of the wrecked pickup, I made my way to the rear wall, where various styles of footwear were displayed. I settled on some zip-up patrol boots I'd seen, trying to get a matching set.  Eh, a bunch of black boots, they all look similar enough.

Figuring I couldn't wear them without modification, I tried carrying the boxes on my back without success. Sheepishly, I went to the camping area and found a backpack completely covered in MOLLE webbing. I'd always seen a hand-full of these on campus, and thought they looked ridiculous; now that I didn't have to pay the whopping $150, I thought it looked pretty cool. With a grin, pulled it off the rack, alongside a paintball vest with similar webbing. I'll look cool. Tacti-cool.

Looking in an angled mirror back in the shoe area, I realized I looked goofy as hell in that vest. But it was pretty cute, so I wore it anyway. I loaded up the boots in the backpack, snagged a few boxes of protein bars from the register near the front, and began searching for a new vehicle.

-====-

Walking absolutely sucks. Even with the missing population, you have to be pretty aware of your surroundings while driving. When walking, there are absolutely no distractions, and you get to thinking. It starts with simple things, like walking sucks, then it glances over to the ever-present boredom, and then the mind-numbing silence that comes with being the last motherfucker walking the streets. The end of the world is a lonely place. Who knew?

I must have passed dozens of parked cars, but didn't care to investigate the whereabouts of their keys, or just didn't want to face the unknown in a ricer. I still have standards, even if they're hilariously low.

The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, my search proved fruitless, and I was getting tired. I spotted a Walgreens pharmacy a block away, and made my way inside. I always questioned their decision to sell camping equipment, but I wasn't going to complain now. I had set up a few sleeping bags as a bed liner and put some fleece children's blankets on top for comfort. For fun, I tried hanging a tent canvas between the aisles, but only succeeded in knocking a bunch of stuff off the shelves.

I set my bag down by the edge of my little nest, downed some vaguely grape flavored cough medicine, and waited for sleep.