𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 102

Far away

2035

Valencia

Aidan must have lost his senses. Totally, at this point. If that is what the effects of sleep deprivation are, I don't want to have it.

"A car? Is that your brilliant idea?" I voice.

Aidan smirks. "Come on, it is better than nothing at all."

I sigh, exaggerated, and drop the drenched book back into the water with a splash! "You do know that cars run on gasoline. Gasoline has expired. Long ago."

Aidan shrugs. "Not if you know the right place."

Of course, he has a secretive backup plan of his backup plan of his backup plan, surely, and of course, he is always so perfectly prepared.

I raise an eyebrow, but his only response is a red jerrycan that he holds up proudly.

"Where did you get that?"

"I told you, if you know the right place..."

I exhale. "And where the fuck will we find a car, you bright fucking candle on a birthday cake?"

Aidan shakes his head at my retort and laughs. "I know a spot."

I roll my eyes. "Of course you do."

Luckily, the rain still pouring down isn't acidic – almost a miracle nowadays. We have been walking from Aidan's bunker through the Bronx until we reach a neighborhood I have not even known. Aidan marches straight for the house at the very end. We are soaked by the time I stand in front of the garage next to it. The wind creeping around the corner causes chills to run down my spine.

A rolling gate is closing the garage off from the house connected to it, but Aidan just lifts it with ease, revealing an almost spotless car.

"You are telling me you had a car as a backup plan all along?" I say bitterly.

"That's the advantage you have when you were sent out to scour through neighborhoods in recruitment." He shoots me a victorious smirk, holding up a key.

"You seriously stole the key in advance?" I rub my face in despair.

He sighs. "No, I just took it."

"It's the same thing. What if the owner wanted it back?"

"Nobody is ali-", Aidan already wants to say, but then he remembers what he told me.

40 years. Nine years since the earth's population went extinct, quite possibly.

I scoff. "Go on, Sherlock. Let's see if it works. I'm telling you, it won't last that long."

He walks to the side of the car and fills the tank.

"Seriously, where did you find that?" I ask, eyeing the jerrycan suspiciously.

"Leftovers from the military. The population might have stopped making gasoline almost ten years ago, but not the military." He appears again and puts the jerrycan down. "I don't know if the car will start, but I guess we will figure it out."

With that, he opens the driver's side door, sits down and starts the engine.

"You know, we could just stay here..." I groan when I notice his efforts.

"And let the house collapse on top of us like a stack of cards? No fucking chance," Aidan comments and appears from the driver's side again, shaking his head in dismay.