Deus Ex Diluvium (Ryden)

The Town

"Your friends?" The stranger was resting on a tree branch, looking remarkably at ease considering the peculiarity of his situation. "Fuck 'em. You don't need them."

"I do," Ryan sighed. "I really, really do. We both do. And they're not my friends. We just met."

"That's why you never travel with strangers," he nodded sagely, as if everything was crystal clear in his eyes, which infinitely bothered Ryan as he was obviously clueless as to what was going on as they spoke. The last thing Ryan wanted to be was the bearer of bad news. Catastrophic news. News which would rip this young man's heart apart.

"Do you know what's happened?" Ryan wasn't good at this. The low, tender voice he'd adopted was intended to be comforting, but sounded more like a child trying to build tension in a ghost story.

"No," His voice was deliberately slow, mocking Ryan's but not in a cruel way. A grin flickered on his lips. "Enlighten me."

Ah, shit, Ryan thought, I've made it worse. How the hell was he meant to look into those innocent eyes and tell him his whole family was probably dead.

"I'm not really sure how to tell you..."

"You could write it down, if you want. I think I have a pen somewhere, hold on. Not too sure about paper though, you'll have to use my arm."

"No, this is serious. I'll just say it. There's this big, um, wave, like a tidal wave, you know, and it's reached Vegas, I don't know how. The whole city's under water."

Right now the reaction Ryan anticipated most was laughter, because it honestly sounded ridiculous.

The man didn't laugh. He didn't seem disbelieving, but fear or grief wasn't making an appearance either.

"Oh, ok well that's sort of- wait, no that's not something I need to be bringing up in the first conversation. Let me start over. I'm Brendon, what's your name?"

"You believe me?" Confusion settled like fine snow across his mind. Every sentence Brendon began took a different, wild turn which pummeled Ryan's understanding until he wasn't convinced that he was hearing anything correctly. "And you don't have any more questions?"

"Long name."

"It's Ryan." At this point he'd given up on hoping for what should be happening, which was a comforting, possibly heartfelt, normal conversation. Or a conversation as normal as one about the end of the world can be. Instead, he'd just let Brendon take the initiative and let himself be dragged along by his ramblings.

"Good name. I had a cat called Ryan once. Cutest thing I've ever seen, black and white, looked a bit like you. Doubt you know each other though."

"Probably not. Look, Brendon-" Already he'd given up on his earlier resolution, which just goes to show how the apocalypse can change a man, because he normally committed to a decision to the end, no matter how stressed or unhappy it made him. "Why don't you seem bothered?"

"That's... a difficult question. I need some time to think, if that's alright?"

Ryan nodded his consent.

"Ok, I lied." Brendon began again. "I didn't need time to think. Or at least, not the time you'd be willing to give me. I think I have an answer, but its complicated and wouldn't make sense to you. It hardly makes sense to me and I think I would need my whole life to figure it out properly. Sorry, that got a bit, I don't know, a bit dark. No, a bit dramatic actually. Too monologuey. Sounds like I'm trying to confuse you."

"That's alright," Ryan finally remembered the bag. "Are you thirsty?"

"Oh, god, yeah," He welcomed the change in conversation. "Have you got any tea?"