𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬

14. Post-Apocalyptic David Beckham.

F O U R T E E N
Post-Apocalyptic David Beckham.

The ball smacks against the concrete time and time again, getting progressively harder as I take more pent-up frustration out against it.

My mind is imaging the ball as the heads of various people, kicking the ball is kicking them.

Every time it smacks against the concrete I grab it and do it again, I didn't even know I was this frustrated. Annoyance at years of getting fucked over is spilling over.

I can hear Ellie and Sam laughing, and Henry trying to have a conversation with Joel. That's a hard task, I wish him well.

I should've been a footballer, I'm pretty good at this.

"Bobbie," I hear Joel say, tearing me out of my trance. I look around the ball rolling at my feet, a smile on my face. He doesn't look so thrilled, I think he needs to kick the ball and imagine people he's annoyed at. We'd be here a few weeks, maybe years, but it may make him less grumpy.

The warmth my body created kicking a ball almost non-stop for an hour or two disappears faster than I'd like, and I'm back to being cold.

We begin walking again, having given it enough time.

The relatively large room we spent time in opens up tenfold into a vast room, due to only using torchlight it may seem larger than it is. My mind thinks about what's happening above our heads, they must be going all out, their hit list increased a fair bit in the last twenty-four hours.

"Do you know where we are?" I ask, my voice echoing around the room.

"Yep. The other side." He says, turning to the wall which has a sign drilled into the concrete.

It's a parking lot. Apparently only for p2 and p3, whatever the fuck that means. The Bank of America. I doubt it can call itself that anymore, dollars don't mean much.

Walking out the parking lot we get back to the outside, the sun has long since set so it's bitterly cold out here as well. It looks like most streets do, barren and void of life. Cars scatter along the side of the streets, houses stand worse for wear. This looked like it was once a nice street.

"No. No one is here. No one's gonna be here because, my plan worked." Henry boasts.

"So much goddam talkin'." Joel shakes his head.

I kick a rock with my shoe, watching it go flying it smacks on the top of the roof of a car with a clunk. I don't know any footballers, but I would compare myself with the top tier. I'm pretty damn good.

"I'm just saying, I delivered." Henry smirks, looking across at me with a wink. "Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house, and we're out."

Fucking hell. Smooth sailing is a thing.

"So we cross the river and then what? Where you gonna go?" Ellie asks.

"Don't know yet." Henry shrugs.

"Well, we're goin' to Wyoming." She says, Joel looks back at her, "What? It's a huge state. It can fit two more people."

"Yeah, maybe we just call this one a success, and say our fond farewells." Henry takes the hint Joel's putting forward.

"No, he'll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes. He's like," she puts on a deep voice, "'No, Ellie. Never, ever, happening'", she switches back to her voice, "And then I'm like, 'I'm gonna ask you a million more times' and he's like- "

Cracks of noise echo around the street, the sound sends a chill through my body. Gunshots. Lots of them. I duck to the ground. I can see dust kick up where the bullets hit the rocky ground.