Flash Fic Challenge – It’s The End of the World As We Know It, And I Don’t Give A Fuck

Latest challenge, and since it’s profane of course I was doing it.

It’s The End of the World As We Know It, And I Don’t Give A Fuck

The first hundred days of the apocalypse were epic as fuck.

Like, there was some weird ass virus or sexually transmitted disease or whatever the fuck, maybe it was the Andromeda Strain, I don’t know. By the time people started figuring out it had a ninety nine point nine percent fatality rate and was transmitted by air, a third of the world was dead. Where it had come from and what it actually was lost the race against time.

The thing was, some people were immune. Very, very few. But I was one of them, which I figured out when I realized the entire neighborhood had dropped dead, except me. The illness didn’t affect animals, so I went house to house, letting people’s pets go. I mean, they’re dead, sucks for them, but their pets deserve to give living rough a shot. The world was theirs now. I hope they did a better job with it than we had. But how could they not, right? People suck donkey dicks. People were the absolute worst.

I liked my alone time. I got to live in all the houses, and try out all the cars I could start, even though I’d never gotten my license. Because who the fuck cared? Nobody was gonna write me a ticket.

I suppose I should have been trying to find out where other survivors were and shit, but I honestly didn’t give a fuck. All I ever wanted was to be left alone, and I finally got my wish. I was asexual, so I had no desire to bone down, and I was a curmudgeon, which meant I didn’t like company in general. In other words, it was fucking great.

Well, once I got rid of all the bodies. They already smelled, and I knew they’d get worse, so I stole some equipment from a construction site a couple of blocks over, used an earth mover to dig a big ass hole, and just shoved all the bodies in it with another piece of machinery I didn’t really know the name of. But it sure worked well as a body mover. I tossed in some people’s compost heaps, to help speed the decaying process, and covered it all up with as much dirt as I could heap on top of it. It was still possible animals could find it and dig up lunch, but if so, they earned that goddamn meal. Besides, using all the heavy equipment was kind of fun. I used the earth mover as my personal car, and I even used it to break into a house by taking out a section of it. I parked the mover there, and piled up some junk, so animals wouldn’t get in. Some of the cats and dogs were still attached to the notion of people and came around, but I couldn’t feed them, so they soon got the idea I was no fun at all.

I wasn’t heartless. I dragged out bags of food from owners houses, filled up birdbaths and bowls with water, so they weren’t gonna starve to death. And once I had no intention of returning to a house, I left the doors open, so if they wanted to come back for old time’s sake, they could go nuts. It was their world now, and they were welcome to it. I was just a straggler from the fucked up age that had just passed in one violent, full body heave.

I found out stuff I never wanted to know about my neighbors. There was the usuals, the gross porn stashes, the even grosser Hummel figurine collections, but it turned out the weird family at the end of the block were preppers, or at least the husband was. He had a garage full of powered meals in buckets and MREs in bags, shit I didn’t touch because, why would I? I found some useful stuff, though: emergency blankets, Lifestraws, a mini-machete that would be great for chopping things – or people – up with, solar chargers, a backpack to put it all in, things like that. But I didn’t worry about food, ‘cause people had lots of food available, and the electricity stayed on for a surprisingly long time. So did the water, which I hadn’t really expected. I took the Lifestraws anyways, ‘cause you never knew.

Eventually I got bored of my stupid, piece of shit neighborhood, packed up a car with some stuff, and headed out. I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t fucking matter anymore. I could declare this entire country the New States of Buttholia, and there’d be nobody to contradict me. By default, I owned everything. Reality was pretty much I said it was. If I wanted to dabble in feudalism, or a currency made of Funyons, it was my call.

I was a little worried about encountering others. I mean, I knew I wasn’t really the only one, but I did fuck all to find them. I still didn’t want to run into them accidentally on the road, although I knew that was a possibility. That’s why I stayed put for so long. No one was coming to the bumfuck nowhere where I lived. Just in case, I had, along with the machete, a couple of knives and guns, taken from the prepper’s house. Being female, I knew there were men out there who only pretended to see women as fellow beings and not things because it was generally frowned upon. Now that the rules were off, they’d have no reason to pretend anymore. Just like I was free to no longer pretend I hated the idea of shooting those fuckers in the face.

I drove on roads, came to permanent traffic jams and drove off-road, and occasionally I saw signs that someone living might have passed through recently. For the most part, I found a whole buttload of nothing, except the remnants of the old society. I started seeing skeletons too. Not old dead, just bodies the animals had already picked clean. In general, I was seeing more and more animals, reclaiming urban spaces, and it wasn’t only regular animals. Someone had opened up the zoos, or the animals simply escaped, either way, but I once saw some lions chilling on a hill overlooking a roadway, and a rhino chomping apples in an overgrown orchard, like he was right to be there and I was the fucking weirdo. He was probably right.

I stopped keeping track of time, because, fuck it, am I right? But I think it was probably several months before I genuinely encountered another person. It was an older woman, early sixties, who had dragged a bunch of furniture out onto a sidewalk and created a sort of living room outside for herself. There were a couple of bookshelves propped against old storefronts, and she had a horde of cats that stuck around her, and seemed to be her own feral army. She offered me tea. I turned it down, but I gave her one of my Lifestraws, in case she ever found it useful. She gave me some books. There was an open if unspoken invitation to stick around, but as I said, people were never my thing. I moved on. She didn’t seem to care one way or another. The cats were glad to see me walk on.

Maybe a month after that, I came across a building where someone had painted ‘I’m Amy. Shoot a flare or honk a horn, I’ll come to you.’ I didn’t find out if that was true. Some time after that, I found a fire engine with its ladder extended, drying clothes on its great rungs. They looked to be female clothes, although I didn’t see the owner of said garments. She may have been sleeping in the cab of the truck.

By the time I encountered Kulap eating snacks from a vending machine she’d gutted with an ax, outside a train station in a place where the nights were colder, I had a theory.

She invited me to join her, so we shattered a cola vending machine, and I asked if she had encountered any people. She told me she had, once or twice. Like me, she was wandering with no fixed address. Her stories cemented my theory. “You know what this means, right?”

She broke open her fourth bag of chips. “No, what?”

“None of us have encountered any men. What if men didn’t survive this?”

She crunched chips thoughtfully while I used a screwdriver to poke a hole in a pop can. Didn’t need to; just felt like it. “What, you mean, like, none?”

“We haven’t seen a living one. None of us. Everyone I’ve encountered or seen signs of were female. “

“Is that possible?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Is a world killing virus possible? It’s no more stupid than anything else.”

She shrugged and nodded, eating more junk food. It wasn’t the only food to eat, but it was the most fun. “So what do we do?”

“Whatever the fuck we want.”

The next hundred days of the apocalypse were as epic as fuck too.

In Absentia © 2017 All Rights Reserved. | Login