I Want To Go Home

†Prologue [ A l e x ]

I walk down the streets of New Boston and somehow it doesn't seem real. Walking hand in hand with the love of my life, down a trashy looking street with guards every which way just seems so unreal. These moments make me think that maybe this is all a dream, I'm about to wake up now that I finally realize it's not real, but it is. It's real and that's what baffles me at times. 

It really does surprise me that I've lived through this whole apocalypse. That there really is dead people walking around outside these walls of New Boston. That I survived for years with those things in the world. How I even managed to do it, I don't know. 

The new generation think the whole thing is interesting, some sort of game. As if the life I lived was exciting and full of adventure. Full of adventure it was, but the only thing I got from it was grief and pain that I'm never going to get over. I'm afraid it'll go to the grave with me. Haunted by the faces of my friends, my family. It was an adventure, but an adventure no one should have to go through.

I guess because of this whole interest in the years before New Boston, Tallahasse Rebuilt, Capital City, and New Denver is the reason I'm being interviewed. Most kids nowadays have never set a foot out of these quaratined cities, will never know what it was like. They want to know the thrill of it all, what happened, the whole story. The only story I have is full of sorrow and I'm not afraid to break these kids' heart and tell them how very horrible it really is. 

I headed into Pines Radio Station, my wife right behind me. She wasn't all emotionless like me, I like to think that the apocalypse softened her up and it wasn't just my attitude after it all that caused her to go soft. I like to deny it's the second one.

I sit in the lobby area, where there are nice leather couches in a black color that resembles the night. It makes me think of the long nights I stayed up, not being able to sleep and staring at the dark sky and realizing my life was just as dark. You couldn't even find couches like this in my youth years, if you did they were torn and ruined. Seeing them now just made me wonder how we got back to life like this.

A man about in his mid twenties walks out, a smile on his face and some papers in his hand. He walks over to where my wife and I are seated and sticks out his hand. I shake it, not really listening to how glad he is that we could make it. My wife doesn't say a word either, just smiles and nods. Which she was taught to do a long time ago and I'm proud she still remembers.

He takes us back into a smaller room with a table, microphones and cords are all over the place. This is what my grand parents must of felt like when I was a kid with all the technology was coming out. I didn't realize there was still stuff like this anymore.

"Over here in this chair, if you would." The man gestured to the two chairs across the table from his.

My wife let go of my arm and patted my shoulder as she gave me a small smile. I took a seat across from the man who was known as Jackson Pine. My wife sat next to me, her hand never leaving mine. I kissed her knuckles, giving her a small smile back. The room had a few posters of The Beginning. It's exactly how it sounds, the beginning of the apocalypse. Everyone called it The Beginning. There was also other periods but those are for a different time, right now we're focused on The Beginning. 

Before I knew it I saw a sign that said 'On Air' blinking off and on. I sighed, knowing that his stupid radio show was now broadcasting. 

"Hello to all you listeners out there, this is Jackson Pine from Pine Radio and I'm here with two guests. They've seemed to live through it all! I'm lucky to have convinced them to come on here and tell us about themselves and the story of the time before New Boston, and all those other new quaratined zones out there."

He gave us a smile, and I wanted to leave right then. My wife put her other hand on top of mine and I let out a sigh.

"So let me introduce you to our special guests! Today we have, Alex Johnson and his lovely wife." 

My wife and I both said our hello's into the mics. 

"Let's start off with our first question, how old are you?" Jackson asked, looking between my wife and I.

"I am sixty eight, and my wife is sixty four." I replied, crossing my legs. The interviewer nodded, dotting down the informationon on his papers. "I am unluckily, one of the survivors from the period of the apocalypse." I murmured, turning my attention to my wife who was smiling at me. "And so is my wife. Along with a couple friends I'm sure you will interview after me." 

"What was it like? Eventful, I would guess." He chuckled, tapping his cheek with the end of his pen. I glared at the floor. I let out a sigh before I continued.

"Eventful, indeed." I answered, slowly turning my gaze to look at Jackson. "You all act like the apocalypse was some wonderful adventure. I can assure you, it was't." I shrugged my shoulders, furrowing my eyebrows. "It was awful. My friends will say the same thing."

"Mr. Johnson, or Alex. May I call you Alex?" I hesitated before nodding my head. "You were the leader of the group called Live Another Day." 

"Yes, it's a stupid name." I waved my hand, a small smile turning at my lips. "A dear, old friend of mine made it up. He was so determined that, that was going to be our name. We couldn't stop him." I chuckled, crossing my arms. "I was the leader, yes. Not the greatest one though." My smile turned into a frown, and I averted my gaze from Jackson.

"Would you mind telling us how many people died in your group?"

"Let's see," I whispered, my hand shaking. I hated talking about the deaths that occurred, I didn't like to remember them but they haunted me every damn day.

"Nine of our friends died, and one of them left." My wife spoke up, rubbing my hand. I knew she didn't exactly like to talk, and talking about our dead friends must hurt. I didn't want her to talk this whole interview, but I can't stop her from whatever she wants to do.

"Nine people dead, and one missing. Do you think that missing person is still alive today?"

"Sadly, I think they are not." I answered quickly before my wife could. I turned, giving her a my wife a sad expression as she glanced at the ground. I pat her hand, turning my attention back to the man. 

"Why don't you start telling us about The Beginning period?"

"Well, it's quite a long story." I raised my eyebrows, staring at Jackson.

"I've got time." He leaned back in his chair, an excited smile on his face. "I mean, my show is the only show on this station. So yeah, we've got a lot of time."

"Alright," I nodded my head, leaning forward with a determined expression. "Let me begin."