After The End
get a calendar. I slip through
the library door and my backpack gets wedged in place. Pulling
myself inside I curse. The calendar should go a few years ahead
just in case. In case of what, I don’t know. It feels like not
knowing what day actually would be my birthday, or Christmas, or
the anniversary of the recent day of rising death would be as
unbearable as laying naked on asphalt in summertime.
    I scamper to the computer stations. Power is still on
in the building, so maybe the Internet still exists too. It’s only
been three days. Maybe. Maybe I could search up a printable
calendar for the next five years. Hit the power button. Thank
goodness for a buzz and glow and glimmer. “Load faster you out of
date piece of junk.” Searching and found. “Good signal for an
apocalypse.”
    Why this even exists I don’t know but I could weep
for the comfort of it. It’s like knowing time will still exist.
Print to station 1. “Enter print credit code? Crap-tasticness on a
Communion Wafer.” Circulation desk must have an admin override.
Search the desk, toss a book, open the drawers. “Under the register
maybe?” Manual for operation of register and blank code cards in a
file. “Pay dirt.” —thud thud crash— “Really? More zombies, ugh.”
Outer door. Lights are off in the lobby. I must’ve made too much
noise (knew there was a reason to be quiet here). Basic
instructions… scan card add $1-5 to card with admin code 0037.
Enter twice, scan again, —Thud Thud— “um okay, not good” agree to
terms. Okay done. “$2 max for new card? Whatever, fine, just do
it.” Again button button yes $2 and on. Bolt to the computer and
enter code…printing total is $3.60. “Dammit” sprint back to
register —Thud THUD crack scrape— I’m not looking, not looking,
just move quickly “hurry hurry” $2 added. Dash to station.
“Computer printing…faster faster”—THUD THUD Crack scrape moan—
“Time to bail like the bar tab is coming” and… printed. “YES!” Four
years of time. If I can get out, I have four years.
    How to leave? “Ouch! Stupid chair”. Looking looking…
meeting room window! Any fleshies out this side? Nope. Clear and
climbing out. Lower the bag as silently as possible. Two books on
wilderness survival and medieval weapons fall out. Okay here I go.
“Ummph. Big drop, little legs.” Made it. Stuffing the tomes back
into my pack. Sword out, backpack on, hauling ass towards the
woods. No Dead are following and I’ve got all I need for now. I
feel better just knowing today is September 19th.
    Something was different; there was a handsome
vampire half-holding me and Cal stood over us. My senses were
coming back to my body. Daemon, that’s his name. I tried to
remember, but my mind was foggy.
    He must have drunk too much; when had this
guy last fed?
    It felt like forever before I realized Cal
was spooning me stew and feeding me pieces of orange. All I heard
was the young vampire apologizing profusely while holding me
upright; his grip on me was delicate and warm.
    I vaguely understood him say he’d been
without nourishment for over a week and hadn’t wanted to worry us
before.
    I would’ve rather been given a warning.
    I took the remaining fruit from Cal’s hand
and finished it on my own as the silver-haired vampire gave a sigh
and leaned back. His worry for me eased for the moment.
    “We will work on your control first, I
think.” Cal announced to his student; it was as close to a
reprimand as I heard. Daemon nodded quietly, his expression
penitent.
    Soon, I had completed my dinner and my focus
returned. I joked with the overwrought vampire.
    “Okay, that wasn’t a bad trip, but it wasn’t
much fun either. Let’s not do that again; if the hunger is that
strong, give me a heads up next time, alright?”
    He still wouldn’t look me in the eye, but
remained crestfallen and almost whimpered; he was a scolded
puppy.
    I tried to lighten the mood.
    “I’m fine now. Let’s just pop out
Read Online Free Pdf

Similar Books

Freelance Heroics

Stephen W. Gee

Scorpio Invasion

Alan Burt Akers

Under His Watch

Emily Tilton

WickedBeast

Gail Faulkner

A Free State

Tom Piazza