Prologue

 Humanity, it is what we all cling to.  When we hear of stories of struggle and triumph, we praise those who held onto their humanity, who built humanity, who saved humanity. I personally have never understood it. Why would we praise that self-destroying, arrogant concept that lost any relevance the moment the first man pierced the soil and replaced humanity with civilization? But the creation of civilization did nothing to spare of us the oppressive freedom that is humanity. Civilization’s destruction showed us what people really were, nothing more than vile survival machines, cruel and vicious. Every small faction in the post apocalyptic world thinks they are preserving humanity, they the good guys, they are still pure, even if a bit tainted. It was them who were the problem, they were the barbarians that resorted to cannibalism and preying on the weak. When someone else took it was excessive robbery, when they took it was a necessary wrongdoing. When someone else killed, it was murder, when they killed it was self-defense. Others lived to destroy, they lived in hopes that one day they could rebuild. Little did we know was that we were not the good guys. No, all the good guys died at the beginning. If you were alive 3 years after the war, you were wretched. Nobody was rebuilding, everybody raped and pillaged and killed. In the end, people do not go to hell, they build it.

I vomit. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that f*****g rodent raw. Or is it that irradiated water I drank? More vomit. My vision is blurred. I look up at the gray sky, the sun pokes through. I fall over, another stomach cramp. I need to find shelter, safety, where I can pass through this God-awful disease. The sun will set soon, I can’t stay here. But I can’t move, I’m trapped in my own pain. I start to drag myself off the road towards a small ditch, at least I might be able to hide from raiders during the night. Unlikely but better than being on the road. I hope there aren’t already people living in that ditch.

I hear gunfire in the distance. I have no time to waste. I crawl towards the ditch. I reach the edge and another wave of cramps, worse than before. I fall in, darkness.

Something is on my neck, two fingers. Zombies? No, they’d have eaten me by now. Raiders? Doubtfully, unless they want to sell me as a slave then there’s no point in checking if I’m alive. I try to open my eyes but my vision is still blurred and the harsh sunlight burns. I sit up and start to kick, more cramps. A cracked Russian voice says, “easy comrade, easy there. Wait a minute.”  I start to squirm, the hand pushes me down and in a second a knife blade lightly touches my neck. I lie tensely for a moment before the blade is retracted. A hand rests reassuringly on my shoulder. I manage to make out the image of a man in dirty green military fatigues, his green cap points right in my face. He shoves some leaf in my mouth and the Russian voice commands me to eat. I have no choice but to comply. The leaf tastes awfully bitter. Water is handed to me. I drink, darkness.

Reviews

[Matthew Smith]

Might want to fix it up. No one enjoys picking the a*s of one paragraph from the beginning of another.

And you spelled "apocalyptic" wrong. Y'know, in case you hadn't noticed.