Radiation with a Side Of Applesauce

Faith in Joline, brother.

The bronze belly of the titanic vehicle lied in front of me. If I jumped and used my bloodied foot as a pain trampoline I may just be able to grip the top of the bus. As she always says "Twice as bright, half as long".

With my currently less injured foot, I propelled my body up. Alternate knee bent, I prepared for the impact. As the top of my sole collided with the steel, an almost colourful array of pain had screwed itself into my toe. The funny bit , not for me, was that I was able to reach the top of the rusted bus without having to kick off it.

Gripping onto the most "I won't stab you and give you tetanus" looking parts of the bus I proceeded to trying to get a firm step. Blood is surprisingly slippery. My legs kicking onto the bus and occasionally at nothing, I managed half my torso above the bus. With that I was like a silent guardian, watching over my future soulmate.

To my disappointment , my soulmate is another man. A little, yellow man. And what's that? He has a cute little puppy, aww how sweet?  It's trying to give  him a 'hickey'. I read about this, show of affection in old word 'magazines'. Oh the blood and screaming is new.  Analysis... My fellow man is in danger!

Options..options...options. Idea! Leave
the area, let him get torn to little doggy shaped treats, then come back and loot his inedible back pack probably filled with supplies, gear and other goodies. OR. Try to save his chinky ass and probably either get ripped apart or.... If I survive, shot in the back of the head, for a minute chance of him giving me something for my toe which.... I could loot from his non-dangerous corpse instead...

With a loud metal clank the large rusted bus door which upheld my body snapped. The falling is most relaxing. The emotion of fear slowly dissipates into a slow calm acceptance. It feels like hours. I can even ask "when am I going to hit the... " D, D, D for dislocation! The feeling of air being forcefully shot out of my lungs is almost as discomforting as the tender flesh under my skin being clubbed by the sand.

Oh look I've joined the party. Like in those picture books, we can sit in a circle and tell stories, just me, slit eyes and the huge mutated mongrel about to  eat my face.

I have no choice, I slowly gripped into 'Joline', slowly from her holster. I drew.Both mutt and man were frozen in divine grace. Her might, her glory, mere uneducated mongrels were in awe.

In the eyes of the man, what little I can see. It showed almost disgust. Hopelessness. Absence of faith. The divine Joline was to save his sorry yellow buns but yet he still rejects her?! He does not  deserve this divine intervention, he does not deserve life. But no. The Joline accepts all, forgives all. She is all.

In the 'eyes' or whatever piece of flesh that is, lied something different. Hope. This look. Like a faded memory, familiar yet foreign. How hope has been beaten out of humanity, it had been swallowed by beast, mutants and whatever mindless creatures that walks this waste. It makes one think, are we still meant to be here. Or should we lay down and just die... Letting nature take it's course in what remaining days it has left. We scrabble for scraps while these beasts thrive.

"What doing you?! Why you hold sausage?" "Dog angry!" "Hoi". Shouted the man.

I replied with simple and calmly. "Have faith".

Almost gracefully, I slid my other arm, still sore from the fall, behind me. With almost divine speed, I pulled Joline back and sunk a rusted cylinder into the same eye socket which I had so deeply admired.

Respect held for these beasts came from their strength in this life, but that respect, compared to my own, held nothing.

With a slight twist of the wrist, a warm sticky substance slowly drooled from the rusted piping. Only one thought came to mind from this.  Lunch party.