California Bound

Chapter 1: Luke

     Gods, I wish I had some cold water right now. Nevada is so warm all the time. It was better back when the power was still working, of course.  I would kill to be in a house with functional air conditioning. Poor choice of words; I have killed to be where I am and honestly, it hasn't gotten me very far. Hell, I had to decapitate 4 Walkers just to find a place to sleep last night.

     It intrigues me why they need houses and beds when they don't even sleep, or why I had to be born just in time to be stuck in the actual apocalypse. Sometimes when I'm walking down the road, I think about these things. But when I do, I also must not get too deeply into my own thoughts. The last time I contemplated Death, I ended up surrounded by Walkers and fighting for my life. Rule #53 of the apocalypse:  Don't think about the apocalypse. You get distracted, and when you get distracted, you die. The End. Game Over. Bye-Bye.

     Luckily the Walkers I usually meet are idiotic ghosts bent on getting revenge for their deaths. I think it's absolutely ridiculous to waste your afterlife avenging the unimportant events of your previous life, but I'm also one of the few actually living humans left, so I don't have much room to complain. Most people died the month after Hell broke. Oh yeah, Hell broke.

     All things including evil humans,  demons, fallen angels, and every other inhabitant of Hell was set free about 7 years ago. I was 9 years old. I would have died, if it wasn't for the man that took me in when my parents were killed by a band of werewolves. His name is Luke. He has raised me to be one of the best survivors in the country. He taught me everything I needed to know in order to survive in this new world, as well as everything he could teach me instead of finishing school. He was a history teacher at his public high school who enjoyed preparing for the apocalypse in his spare time. He was incredibly useful though, and enjoyed giving me tests about every subject he taught me.

     I was surprised when a knife flew past my ear, though I sensed it was coming in time for my reflexes to duck. I did it again! I can't stop getting lost in my own thoughts, but of course I cannot think of that now. I swerved to avoid the next knife and threw my axe at the head of my attacker. This demon was in the body of a very tall Asian man who was obviously vey dim witted, because it barely flinched before the blade penetrated his now broken skull. Almost a shame, I thought, I was hoping that would have been more fun.

     "What was that?" Luke asked incredulously. "You let him get two throws in before you even drew your blade!" He looked disappointed in me. I hated when he looked at me like that, like I could never meet his impossibly high standards.

     "An axe," I said, slightly annoyed, "in the skull of a demon. I don't understand why you're disappointed; I threw it perfectly. It's not like you were very eager to help out." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his face scrunching up in surprise but I ignored him. I wasn't in the mood for a lecture right now. I have passed this stupid test of his at least 10 times now. I'm sick of him waiting for me to fail. I won't fail.

     "Fine. You hungry?" He seemed like he was dropping it, so I did too. When you have to spend the apocalypse with someone, it's best to pick your battles, and I always seem to pick the bloody ones.

      "Definitely." I haven't eaten in at least 8 hours and all this walking has really worn me out. When he sat down his pack to start a fire, I said, "I'll set up camp while you cook." We were in the middle of nowhere which meant no houses nearby. Portable tents are a staple of any survivor's kit, and definitely part of mine. So I pitched the tent and laid out the blankets for Luke. He always insists on sleeping with a blanket even here, where it is barely cool enough to sleep as it is. But I don't argue with him. He did save my life all those years ago and I need him to keep teaching me.

     "Here," Luke said, "eat. You'll need your strength to pass your next test tomorrow. I'm going to take you to meet a rather special friend of mine." He handed me a metal ration bowl full of some kale and potato soup, 'the food of heroes' as he calls it. I call it 'disgusting'. I eat it though and wonder about the friend I will be meeting tomorrow.

     "I didn't know you had any friends," I remarked, jokingly, "I would think that they would have gotten sick of getting a B in friendship" This sounded a lot sillier than I meant it to, but I was kind of serious. His compulsive grading drives most of the few survivors we meet away.

     There was only one woman who thought his quirkiness was attractive, and she was killed by a shape-shifter who pretended to be her late husband. She missed him so much that she gave her life just to hug a copy of him. That's why most of humanity is now extinct. They care too much.