What Remains?

Chapter 1 - Danny- It Begins

Welcome to the first chapter of my Story "What Remains?". Im very new to Wattpad and this is my first piece of work. This Story is something I have wanted to do for a very long time. In fact, I have worked on this for quite some time now and have a few chapters lined up already.

I wrote this story so that it could be shared with People. BUT this doesn't  mean that you can copy it and as you can see: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Sure, call me paranoid.

I appreciate all comments and thoughts. Anything that can help me improve. Your ideas on what to do next would also be amazing! I understand this might not be your Cup of tea but in any case I hope you enjoy!:)

much love to all of you

- Edward J. Barber

It was the worst day of my life, and most likely the worst day in the history of man. Some call it "Judgement Day". Others call it the "Day that all Nations fell". Me? I call it the day when the world went to shit. My name is Danny and I'm a survivor. I'm seventeen years old and where I come from doesn't exist anymore. I was in a supermarket in Washington when it all went down. Nobody knew, that, as they bought their peanut butter and toilet paper, disaster would strike. And it would strike hard.

I was doing what I usually did when at the supermarket with my parents - Waiting for them to finish. I was one of those rich kids. I was. Past tense. At the time my family had a lot of money. We lived in a big house, which was much too big for three people. We owned five cars, three of which we didn't drive. We bought things, most of which we didn't need or use. Sometimes we ate food that was way overpriced and, well, you get the point. My dad, Mark, was the owner of Nemean Industries, a large security company which often supplied the American military with guns, vehicles and whatever was needed to protect the homeland. He was also an ex-navy SEAL and he didn't get to spend a lot of time with me so I savoured every second  with him. I spent most of my time concentrating on my school work and my sports. I was good at sport. Captain of the school football team, state finalist in tennis and I've never lost a fight in kick-boxing. My dad was proud of all my achievements, but he always pushed me to learn how to shoot. He would always say: "There will come a moment in your life when a gun could save you and possibly the ones you love. You won't know how it will happen or why or when but you can be damn that sure you'll know how to use a weapon when the time comes." He taught me how to hunt and took me to his private range every Sunday. Rifles, crossbows, hand guns. He taught me how to use knives in hand-to-hand combat and from a young age he taught me how to understand tactical sign language, the same he used to use with his unit back in the day. I could use many weapons without a problem and I was becoming so good that my mum, began calling me her "Little Marine". Little did I know that being fit and being able to shoot a gun would save my life more than once.

I was trying the free samples in the "Sweet goods" aisle when the end of the world began.

My parents stood next to me, inspecting the variety of cakes and other gastronomic pleasures. My mother, Maria, was wearing a red blouse, cream coloured pants, which matched her long, wavy blonde hair and light brown high heels. Her high cheek bones, big smile and kind eyes made her look like a model for high end, high priced clothing, which in some ways she was. She used to be a model but had taken it a step further since then, now owning the clothing business "Primus", for which she used to work.

My father, in great contrast to my mother, had a more relaxed and care free mentality, which was a little strange due to him being a military man. He wore a white V-neck shirt, which showed off his large muscles, accompanied by worn jeans and to top it off, white Ralph Lauren shoes. You know, typical work uniform. My mother smiled at my father, who was telling her a funny story of a prank he recently pulled on three navy buddies of his.

The shelves were filled with edible and inedible items, stretching from toast bread and corn flakes to toilet plungers and pink towels. The supermarket was filled with many people: senior citizens, teenagers moving in their boisterous groups, the odd family here and there and parents with their deafening children. I swore those 5 year olds could wake the dead.

Then I saw her. She looked roughly my age and she was unbelievably beautiful. Her hair was a hazelnut brown but dyed a golden yellow at the tips. Her skin was cream coloured and her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a navy blue and seemed to make the whole supermarket just a little bit brighter. A straight nose, full lips - any and every boys dream girl. She wore a tank top with a sky blue cardigan, grey jeans and, the icing on the cake, purple Nike shoes. I just wanted to stand and stare but my dad, sadly, didn't give me that luxury. Silent as a ghost, he snuck up behind me and followed my gaze.

"Damn. She's a keeper. Nice shoes too. You should go talk to her." He whispered

I spun around, my face red with embarrassment.

"Dad! What the heck!" I laughed.

"Sorry, it's natural. Just trying to ensure the survival of the species. Now come on, help me choose some snacks"

He was debating whether to buy cheese or chocolate cake. My mum was lecturing him on his diet.

"Honey, must you bring that calorie bomb home?" she asked, "Every time we come here you gain weight"

"Yes, that is true but I burn those calories ... eventually"

I smiled. My parents arguing was a sure-fire sign that things were ok. When they're quiet is when you should run and hide.

We started strolling over to the cash register when my mum said:

"Oh shoot, Danny, I forgot my bag. I think it's over by the bottled drinks. Could you go get it for me?"

"Yeah of course. But only because our money is in that bag." I grinned.

"Love you too" she winked.

As I walked through the aisles, my mind wandered to the girl I'd seen earlier. I told myself to stop. A girl like her was out of my league. She was probably one of those girls who would've laughed if I tried to ask her out. Or even talked to her. I didn't consider myself a "ladies man" but I wasn't that bad was I? I mean there was that one time at ...

An ear-splitting, blood curdling scream brought me back to my senses. A scream that started it all.