This is my fuckin’ campus, yo. I was on it, watching for when the cops just stopped showing up at all. Me and my boys went in while the streets were going crazy. Stupid rioters offing each other, setting their own places on fire. Mobs at churches, screaming God did this! End times! Bullshit. We did it. And now we got to live with it.
I saw past when the cars died with no gas and the lights went black. I planned. And now we got the whole campus. It’s a fortress. We got our guns, got supplies. Got more than that: got the brains. The faculty we found who were still here. We own them now, and they help us. They brew fuel in their labs that makes our motorcycles go. Mobility. We can raid the city. There’s a generator, and the brains keep it going. Electric light. Plus all that wicked dope they cook for us. Continue Reading
Mama won’t let me out of the house. At first I thought it was because I broke her peacock lamp and then told a fib about it. But that’s not it at all. She says it’s too dangerous. The Hunt’s about to begin. Continue Reading
You walk the street, night cold against your skin. The asphalt scratches your feet. You walk down the centre of the road, playing chicken with the cars. So far they’ve all chickened out first.
The last (a Ford? You can’t be sure) swerved violently, missed you. You thought they’d be in the ditch for sure. Somehow the driver held it together, screamed obscenities as they drove away. You didn’t even turn to watch.
Road’s been empty too long. You guess it’s the hour, that and the road. You consider trying the highway. There are always cars on the highway.
But it’s lit. That thing shines bright as day at midnight, gives them too much chance. You’d be visible too long.
You prefer to test reactions, wait ’til their headlamps hit you. That’s why you choose moonless nights. Continue Reading