At the Doctor

Adam Fisher was staring intently at his shoes but he didn’t think they were going to do anything interesting. He just knew he didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone. It seemed impolite when you had nothing to say anyways. And he never really had anything to say. And this is not his story.
Sitting awkwardly next to him was Gerry Blake, trying really hard not to scratch his crotch. I could tell you about Gerry but, in truth, you don’t want to hear it. So this is not about him either.
Rachel Corner did want to know about Gerry. Of course she didn’t know he had crabs, but even if she did it wouldn’t have mattered much to her. Rachel was kind of insane. And who wants to hear about a freak?
Chris Davis was sitting across from Rachel, trying to hide the fact that he was peeping at her breasts. You couldn’t blame the guy. They were nice breasts. But he had terrible acne and was therefore terrified to engage Rachel in conversation. It wasn’t really about the acne though. Chris just had horrible self-esteem. I won’t waste your time on Chris.
Mike Radshaw did want to waste his time on Chris. He didn’t know why. In fact he never knew why, but he wanted to beat the living shit out of him. Mike was gay, you see. He just wouldn’t admit it - which was why he was so angry all the time. So fuck Mike right?
Elspeth Smith had fallen asleep in her plastic chair. She couldn’t help it. She was old and tired but she had led an interesting life. She just couldn’t remember any of it. Which was a shame. I would tell you her story though. But she’s going to die in a few minutes so what's the point?
Lisa Bennett was texting on her cell phone. She did that a lot. She was a nice girl and all - just a little stupid. She had an eating disorder, which doesn’t necessarily make a person dumb or anything. But she was. And this is not her story. Because she’s stupid.
Ah Danny Stewart!  Here was an interesting fellow. He was the only one in the room who actually had respect for life. He was also the only one smiling and the only one who wanted to talk to people. Danny was a good chap and, truly, his story is a fantastic tale of love and beauty and trial! But he has cancer. And I wouldn’t want to bum you out.
Ray McDowell’s mouth was a hard line as he was regarding Danny’s bald head. He thought Danny was a Nazi you see. Ray always thought everyone was something and it was always something he didn’t approve of. So Ray was a miserable old man. And I won’t tell you about him.
In fact I won’t tell you about any of them. Nothing interesting ever happens in a waiting room.

The Freedom Roads - Part Seven

David turned the key again and again but the car didn’t even make noise anymore. The big guy was still standing there, in the rearview mirror, his broad forehead casting a slight shadow over his eyes. The woman had gone after the boy. David glanced at the Beretta. He wasn’t scared as such but exhausted and utterly helpless. He’d been driving for hours and he had stocked the car with supplies which, it seemed, was going to go to waste at this point. He stuck the Beretta down the back of his jeans, opened the door and got out.
“I don’t suppose I managed to turn you around with my little speech mate?”
“No”, the big guy grinned.
“Shit.”
The big guy laughed. “But I wasn’t all a bad dude to begin with man. Pop the hood.”
“Oh mate that’s just… Thank you, really!”
“Zip it, I didn’t do anything yet.”
“Right.” David got in quickly and pulled the hood release. The big guy walked up to the front, looked under the hood, tilted his head back and started roaring with laughter.
“Dude, come here. Look at this! Fucking look at this! And tell me what’s wrong with your car.”
David got out awkwardly, walked around the front and peeked into the engine compartment.
“It’s out of oil?”
The big guy had to support himself on his knees. He actually got down on one of them, he couldn’t help it. “It’s out of… Out of oil! Dude, you didn’t even check for oil! What the fuck man, hahahaha!”
David started laughing too. “You’re right mate I didn’t. I absolutely didn’t check for oil. I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about!”
“You really don’t dude!” The big guy regained some of his composure. “But you see this, this little red wire. The one that’s not connected to the battery. It’s used for something we humans call electricity, ahahahahaha!”
“Oh fuck off mate, is that it?”
“That’s it!” He had to take a breather. “How the fuck did you even survive man?”
David looked away, his lips slowly curling around the edges. The big guy was looking at him, expectantly, grinning. David braced himself.
“I got lucky. I, uh, looted a house once and someone had modified some power tools, probably to take with them on the road. And well they… Oh fuck it, they ran on car batteries mate!”
“AHAHAHAHAHAH!”
David had to take a step back, grinning. The big guy was on the ground, tears streaming down his plump, flushed cheeks and he couldn’t string together a complete sentence even though he really wanted to say something.
“You must be… The dumbest…. Motherfucker… To ever… Survive… Anything!”
David snickered. “I know how to rip them out and then you just kinda plugged it in. It was a simplified design alright!”
“Simplified design! Well it fucking had to be, didn’t it?” He started wheezing and coughing but got up and wiped his eyes with the back of his bear paw. He slapped it on David’s shoulder. “Aw dude, God bless you man, I needed that.”
“Don’t mention it. Hey, lucky for you I’m not self-conscious.”
“Heh, well. I took your pistol from you a couple of minutes ago but I sure as hell ain’t gonna kill you now am I? Hahahah! Here you go.”
Oh… My… God…
David looked up at him, shocked. His big, sweaty face and narrow eyes was showing nothing but good intentions. He looks like a panda. He took the gun.
“Jesus mate… I don’t know what to say.”
He wiped the remaining tears and saliva from his face and grinned. “Don’t worry about it dude. Come on. lemme show you how to hotwire a fucking car already!”
David looked around and started laughing. Italy was rapidly becoming more and more apocalyptic as he was going farther south. The few intact cars that were left up north were nowhere to be seen now, replaced instead by burned out wrecks. Sometimes only the skeletons remained, even the seats and tires burned away. David hadn’t noticed it before but the vegetation was slowly turning weaker. It was very small changes but the hills didn’t show the same amount of color as he remembered them doing a small week ago. There’s no purple left. David was finally seeing some of what Riley had talked about. And he couldn’t believe it. Riley, you were wrong. I mean you were right but you were so wrong...

… Riley was sitting in his chair, smiling slightly, giving David that terrible feeling that he might not die after all.
“Before I die I have something important to tell you.”
“Jesus Christ, do you have to be so fucking blunt about it Riley, really?
Riley made that sound he made when he heard something he thought was funny. It wasn’t a laugh really but more like he spoke his amusement without using words. It was so Riley and David loved it.
“That’s kinda your problem kid. You came barging in here with your head stuck all the way up your ass. Knocking’s not enough, David, and In fact you shouldn’t even do that. You might’ve been hidden away up there, and how you even did that I’ve no bloody idea, but the rest of us were down here, where it got bad. And it got really bad David. Even in the villages where people were supposed to know and love each other. People simply don’t care anymore. And I know I sound like a grumpy old dying bloke when I say that David, but with the way things are now... I never believed it before David. Do you hear me?”
He said it like an actual question and it was. Riley never raised his voice. He never had to.
“I get it Riley.”
Riley did that smile again that made David feel young and naïve and attentive. “David, son, you really don’t… You see a man standing at the side of the road, you drive past him. This is your only option. You see a woman with a kid at the side of the road, you drive past them too, but you won’t be able to do that, will you David?”
“… No.”
“Well then you check your perimeters. This is necessary David, alright?”
“Okay Riley.”
“That means bushes, ditches, cars, trashcans, containers, you get me.”
David grinned. “What about billboards?”
“Billboards? You know, I never knew a guy stupid enough to hide behind a billboard, Dave.”
“Right…”
They were silent for a little while.
“So what trick did you fall for?”
It was a fair question. David knew Riley would see it like that. He looked up at the weathered, leather face and saw tears streaming from the blue eyes.
“She knocked, David.”

It turned out hotwiring a car wasn’t simple. Kevin the panda explained that newer models had kill switches, hidden components and other things David had never heard about. What was essential, he explained, was to route power to the dashboard. There were several ways to do this, the simplest involving an electric drill bit to drill the lock but, according to the Panda, these were hard to come by, especially with power in them.
“So you gotta pop the hood which maybe means breaking the window but don’t bother smashing up any ‘04 models or later ones. They’ve got those kill switches and shit we talked about and you won’t be able to do it…”
“Aw man I could’ve hotwired that Shelby then.”
“What?! You found a working Shelby? Where?”
“This road, about eight hours that way, going 90.”
“Fucking aye dude, I might go get that!”
“Really? It’s a long way mate.”
“Dude it’s a Ford Shelby! I don’t even care what model it is…”
“Said GT500 on the back. Looked kinda old.”
“Fuck me man, that’s probably a classic!”
“Well, enjoy. So what do I do?”
“Right. It’s simple. Even I can do it…”
The Panda explained how to locate the red coil wire on different models and how to hook it up to the positive side of the battery, thus generating power to the dashboard.
“What happens if it’s the negative side?”
Kevin looked at him for a beat. “You ever seen back to the future where the kid and the old man fucked up the present by stepping on a cockroach or something?”
“… Yeah, have you?”
“You get shocked dumbass!”
Then you had to locate something called the starter solenoid along with the positive battery cable, usually located under the steering wheel. “You cross these two without getting shocked and you’re good to go! If you do get shocked then only the car is, hahahaha!”
“You know those are hit and miss sometimes right?”
David was surprised he even had to pop the hood but he scribbled down roughly how to do it and was left with a strange feeling of actually having learned something practical. He wasn’t used to that but it felt good.
By now the woman had come back with the boy and they were both standing at the side of the road, a little distance between them and the two men. The woman looked scared and pathetic while the boy merely looked bored, staring at the gloomy hills that were quickly turning darker. David felt he had to say something.
“Hey, what’s your name chum?”
“Luke.”
“Really? That’s cool.”
“Why?”
You idiot, of course he wouldn’t know. “Kevin will tell you the story later, right Kev?”
“Hah, sure!”
The boy didn’t look too pleased about that but David pushed it from his mind. Kevin wouldn’t do anything like that.
“Listen Luke, would you tell her I’m sorry for scaring you guys. I really am.”
“Che gli dispiace per spaventare noi”, he said vacantly, without looking at her. “I wasn’t scared.”
The kid wasn’t bragging. It was simply a flat statement and David actually believed him.
“Right… That’s good Italian by the way, you should be proud.”
“Yeah.”
There’s no emotion in this kid’s voice at all. Why does he talk like that? David turned to Kevin and put some distance between them and the boy.
“What happened to him?”
“The mom died a few months ago”, Kevin mumbled.
“Right.”
“So where’re you gonna go?”
“Rome. I want to see the state of it.”
“Do what you want man. But you’ll be better off going back north.”
“Why’s that?”
Kevin looked at David with a strange expression. As if he couldn’t even explain it properly. “Things got way worse down south, man. I mean I haven’t been to Rome or anything but…” The tone in his voice left no room for doubt in David’s mind. If a man like Kevin got quiet all of a sudden, one immediately listened.
“You might be alright though. Just keep that attitude you got going, you’ll be fine. Maybe.”
David said farewell to Kevin and Luke and awkwardly waved at the woman. It was getting dark but he still couldn’t stand the sight of her. And he was determined to keep going south, despite what both Riley and Kevin had said. He couldn’t sit still any longer and going north felt like fleeing. I don’t do that anymore.

He couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Maybe it was the tone in Kevin’s voice as he had warned him about going south. Maybe it was the hunted look on the woman’s face or maybe he was just experiencing the effects of exhaustion. But Luke’s voice wouldn’t leave him. As he drove north he remembered how utterly broken and impossibly indifferent he had sounded. So much so that David now wondered if the ill-timed death of his mother had even been enough. “People simply don’t care anymore.” David started crying. 

The Freedom Roads - Part Six

David Adams did not know how to hotwire a car. It seemed that even during an apocalypse people weren’t keen on leaving their keys in the ignition. He’d passed a blue Ford Shelby, a silver Mercedes SL and a lime Volkswagen van, all with air in the tires and gas in the tanks. The Ford stung the most. It had a few dents in the roof from hails but was in otherwise great condition. He’d busted the window just to sit in it and he could still smell a hint of new car and real leather. Amazing. Fucking amazing!
He saw the Fiat Panda from a distance. Oh hell no. It had air in the tires. Please lord no. All the windows were intact. Don’t do this to me. The keys were in the ignition. Fuck! Of all the dingy, crappy, bumpy pieces of shit to come across! He looked around. There weren’t any other cars as far as he could see and it was getting cloudy. Oh screw it! He pulled the handle and found the car was locked. Oh you have got to be kidding me... He pulled out the Beretta. Well, here goes nothing. He aimed at the back seat window and pulled the trigger but the safety was on. He flipped it off and pulled again but he hadn’t loaded it. Come on! He pulled back the slider and fired at the window. The gunshot split the sound barrier, shattered the window, kicked back and twisted his wrist with frightening force. He dropped the gun and cursed loudly. He’d been holding it with one hand and a loose grip. He wouldn’t be doing that again. But the gun worked and he had a vehicle which petrol gauge showed half a tank of gas. He slung his backpack onto the backseat and twisted the key in the ignition. It coughed and died out. Come on you piece of shit. It coughed again, but longer and louder. David stepped on the gas and the engine revved to life with a soft purr and a wheeze and Free Fallin’ emitted from the speakers. Alright!

David was laughing hysterically as he was speeding down the country road. He hadn’t driven a car in twenty years and he was all over the tarmac, encouraged by Tom Petty for the thirtieth time. The sun was setting and grey, brown and green flickered past him and blurred together as he quickly passed 88 miles per hour. The engine didn’t sound too good and it turned out one of the rims were a little bent so he had decided to race this Panda into an early grave. Pandas had always annoyed him. Lazy bastards.
The fuel gauge was swiftly dropping, so he started scanning the side of the road for a suitable place to sleep. That’s when he saw her. Thumb extended, standing next to a billboard, trying to smile. She wasn’t attractive. Her hair was the color of mud and shagged to her hunched shoulders. A stained, white top barely covered her sagging breasts and her ribs stood out even in the low light. Her legs were so thin it looked like they might snap and giant sunglasses covered half of her gaunt face. She started waving frantically when she spotted him but David Adams was not always a foolish man.
He sped past her and looked in the rearview mirror and saw two hunched figures hiding behind the blank billboard. He brought the car to a halt and looked closer in the mirror. They appeared to be unarmed, except one of them, the larger one, was holding a steel pipe. He sped up, pulled the handbrake and turned the wheel. The Panda’s backend spun around and the headlights panned perfectly to the two ambushers who all of a sudden didn’t look too comfortable in their own skins. Fuck I’m smooth. David pulled the door handle, kicked the door open and in one fluid motion he got out and pulled the Beretta from his jeans. He was furious and didn't notice the car dying out behind him.The woman led out a shrill scream and dropped to her knees and the bloke holding the pipe dropped it and backed up against the back of the billboard, his smaller companion quickly following suit.
“Whoa…”
“Whoa what?” David shouted. He couldn’t recognize his own voice but he didn’t care. “I could’ve been a woman. I could’ve been a kid! Would that have mattered?”
“I…”
He screamed, “Would that have mattered?!”
“Yes! Yes it would matter”, the big guy stammered. “Come on guy, we’re just trying to cope.”
“No, nah, don’t gimme that bullshit! The roads are littered with cars and the cans don’t expire until twenty-fifty. What gives you the right?” He made a stabbing motion with the gun towards the big guy. David’s eyes were wild. “Were you gonna kill me? Was that what the pipe was for?”
A small voice piped up. “Nossignore”, the woman chirped. “Che mai. Mi assicuro che non lo fanno, da Dio.”
David’s anger spiked,”what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The boy spoke up. Christ it’s a boy. “She said ‘never that.’ That she makes sure we don’t.”
“… Oh”
The boy spoke again. “Are you going to kill us now?”
“Boy, shut it!”
“What, he wouldn’t think of it if I hadn’t said it?” the boy shouted. “He’ll either kill us or he won’t. Right, I’m going.” The boy turned around and started walking down the side of the road, head bowed, barefooted. And British. David lowered the Beretta. Bloody hell. And made a decision.
“Okay listen. A few miles down the road, there’s a two story villa made out of pale, red bricks. It’s deserted and loaded. I took enough for weeks but there’s plenty left. Some rich guy committed suicide so you”, he pointed to the big fellow, “will have to clear the body out. Bury it, burn it, dump it, I don’t care, I didn’t know this one. Don’t get too hung up about it. After all he hung himself and once he’s gone the smell won’t linger in the floorboards or anything. Go there. Stay there. Pin your name to the door. I…” David looked around, feeling frustrated and helpless. “I know things are difficult but this is not the way to go man. Alright and I know… I know it’s scary. It’s fucking frightening beyond belief but you cannot be part of the problem when we’re so few left! Especially with a kid man…”
It registered. David almost felt sorry for him, looking down on his shoes, his chins rapidly multiplying. But David was pleased and couldn’t care about the big guys’ feelings. Not when the boy was stubbornly trudging along still. “Well fucking go get him then!”
“Grazie mille signore…”
“You get the boy to tell her everything I said, alright?”
“I do speak Italian you know…”
“Well, complimenti alla mama dumbass!”
David slung himself in behind the wheel and dumped the Beretta on the passenger seat. He twisted the key. The engine choked.
Fuck me!

The Freedom Roads - Part Five

David spent the night in Riley’s house. The upstairs rooms were much cleaner since Riley hadn’t been there in a while. God, how long did you sit down there alone? Even the bed was still made and only had a thin layer of dust on it. David flipped the pillows and drew a breath when he saw the black Beretta 92 lying on the bed sheet. Riley was all authentic apparently. The gun looked really old. The metal was faded and it had small dents and scratches that made David think it had been dropped a bunch of times. He pressed the magazine release and it slid out smoothly. There were still bullets in it. He flicked each of them out into the palm of his hand. Nine. He reloaded the clip and pushed it back in the gun. It clicked pleasingly. He pulled back the slide and heard a round go into the chamber. Holy shit this thing is loaded now! How do you unload it? Is this a semi-automatic? He pulled back the slider again and the bullet flew out to his right. There we go! He recovered the bullet and put it back in the magazine. He didn’t reload the gun but flipped the safety on anyway and stowed it under the bed. It’d probably give me nightmares under the pillow. He pulled back the covers and passed out as his head hit the cushion.

David was standing on a hill looking down on a field dotted with Scarlet, pointy tents. The sky was the color of blood and fire and the wind bit at his face. He heard drums and the wind carried the loud cracks of whips, followed by screams. He saw tall men in Roman armor, wearing capes the color of blood and bronze helmets reflecting the orange sky. Naked men and women were pulling plows by their necks. Some were pointlessly hacking at the ground with picks but whenever they stopped the whips cracked again. There were mounds of something. They stood dark against the bright sky and David couldn’t figure out their purpose. Then he saw it. Limbs twisted together, faces staring blindly into the sky. Hundreds and hundreds of people stripped of their clothes and tossed together in bundles. David looked closer. He couldn’t believe it. They were still moving. Each mound was slightly trembling and writhing in bizarre unison. Then a soldier threw a torch on one of them. It went up like nitrate film and their screams rose and fell with the smoke.
David screamed. “It’s only been twenty years! How did you let this happen? Don’t you consider this a slight overreaction?!” He was flailing his arms as tears streaked down his face. He could hardly hear himself over the wind as he sprinted down the hill towards the soldiers and their slaves. One of the mounds wasn’t aflame yet but a soldier was carrying a torch towards it. David aimed at him and lowered his shoulders. One of them popped out of its socket as he hit the metal armor with a blunt thud but they tumbled to the ground and landed at the foot of the mound and Riley was staring David in the face. “You fool boy“, he croaked. “But he was gonna burn you”. A kind smile of pity swept across Riley’s face. “I’m already dead son”. David lowered his head and cried. “Don’t ever throw your life away on the count of being a hero kid. The time for heroes is over. It won’t do anyone any good and you’ll only get yourself killed.” “Okay Riley…” “It’s pretty fucked up in here, you must have issues Dave.” “What?” “You’re dreaming kid, wake up”, Riley slapped him across the cheek.
David woke with a shout.

It was morning and grey when he set out. The Beretta felt heavy tucked in his jeans and David didn’t like it but wasn’t foolish enough to pass it up. I would have never found a gun. There were basically no guns before why would there be guns now? Why did Riley have a gun? David hoped he had never used it. I should probably test it. Would be no good to have it misfire when the Romans show up. He couldn’t shake the dream. Maybe I have no idea what I’m getting into.

He still had to decide where to go. He had never seen Venice but after the dream Venice scared him. Images of pale, bloated bodies, staring up at him from the canals flittered across his mind but he pushed them away. Rome scared him as well but for another reason. The Coliseum was probably still there. Was it insane to think that someone had decided to pick up the old games? David grinded his teeth; Yes it is. It’s only been twenty years! But he couldn’t shake the images.
It would be interesting to study though. It took us over 2000 years to become as civilized as we are. I wonder how long it’ll take us to regress to how we started out. Or form a new society entirely.
He imagined an Italy a hundred years from now. Its people divided into families, not waging war but greeting each other as cousins whenever they met. An entire country united under multicolored pavilions, kissing checks and drinking wine, singing songs and playing guitars. I wonder how Germany would do, David smiled.

He had reached the borders of familiarity. He couldn’t recognize the countryside or the villas anymore, nor the cars left on the road. Maybe it’s time to start looking for one. From this point on they might have batteries in them. 

The Freedom Roads - Part Four

The kitchen was cold and dark but neither of them cared. They were equals, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, only occasionally glancing at death poised in the corner.

“I used to write too.”
“What do you mean used to? We always write David.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, first of all, don’t tell me you didn’t have notebooks scattered all around your little cottage up there.”
“It isn’t really a cottage…”
“Secondly, how many stories have you boxed up in that noggin of yours? Do you see the world differently because your laptop doesn’t work? Do you stop thinking because there’s no one around to read your stuff?”
“Well what’s the point?”
“The point is that this is history in the making David. Very few people are in our current situation and if you don’t write this shit down, who are gonna know how we coped and died and loved? We’re back to scratch - back when history was made around a campfire only with fewer people!”
“I was never really any good Riley.”
“Well who do you have to compete with now? And who would care? Why do you care? Who the fuck are you to say your crap isn’t good enough by the way?”
“Yeah alright Captain.”
“Hah!”

…

“Riley?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you really dying?”
“Yes David, I’m really dying.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Ah. Well that sucks.”
“… Yeah.”

…

“Where did he get you?”
“Left of the navel, below the ribs, right here”
“Did it go in far?”
“Nah but it’s become infected by now and the bastard twisted it.”
“… Did you get him?”
“Oh yeah.”

…

“Are you scared?”
“Less scared now”, Riley smiled. “Are you scared?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“It’s not that bad. I mean sure it hurts and the cold is excruciating but every breath puts a damper on it now, just a little bit. You’ve got plenty of years left in you, kid…”
“I’m scared for you asshole.”
Riley smiled. “I know.”

…

“Any regrets?”
“Let’s not talk about regret.”
“Okay Riley.”

…

David was crying. “Riley… Riley! What the fuck man, we were just talking! Riley! We were just talking! Come on man, not in the middle of a fucking sentence, Riley!”
Clutching the man’s bony frame, David was shaking as Riley’s head rolled off his shoulder and tilted back.

David buried him in the meadow, in front of the terrace Riley had built. Sweat was pouring off his naked back and he had a cigarette clamped between his teeth. The sundown colored the sky golden and amber. It was very beautiful. And fitting, David thought. He had wrapped Riley in a blue blanket and carried him outside. He looked to be sleeping in the evening glow as David lowered him into the shallow grave and covered him with dirt. I wish I had come down sooner. Goodbye my friend.

The Freedom Roads - Part Three

The two-story villa stood silent against the morning sky. Images of lounges, leather armchairs and wooden cigar boxes flittered across David’s mind. He imagined the house thirty years ago with a Lancia in the driveway, next to the Ducati and the front of the house lit up by soft golden lights. The family had named their house Buena Fortuna, which was why David was now contemplating lifting everything he needed.
The front door was locked. Why can’t they all pin notes to their doors? The windows where dark and uninviting, some of them cracked or missing. He knocked on the tall, oak door but nobody answered. He walked the perimeter of the house searching for any signs of occupation or maybe a message to trespassers but found nothing. The back garden was massive and resembled a meadow more than a garden and held an impressive terrace, had it not been for the planks missing around the edges. David couldn’t tell whether they had been ripped off or not but good lumber was hard to come by as were nails. But they probably would have taken the whole thing or at least more than this, unless they live in there or are wandering. He went around the eastern side of the house. The paint was pale and flaked and a wide crack was running from a ground floor window all the way up to the overhang. Jeez. He went around the back again and trudged up the steps towards the back door. It was unlocked and as he edged it open it slanted on the hinges and scraped along the floor. It was uncomfortably dark inside. The morning light revealed a thick layer of undisturbed dust on the hardwood floor. David stood in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. The place was filthy! At one glance, all worries of anything larger than rats living in there vanished from his mind. The once crimson drapes now hung black against the grey wallpaper, covered in dusty spider webs. The windows held a yellow taint that had appeared black from the outside. Junk and plastic wrappers lay scattered around the living room and on the furniture. An armoire lay overturned and the shards of glass and porcelain faded in with the rubbish on the floor, but there was no telling whether someone had fought or not. David didn’t look for bloodstains. He proceeded into the kitchen imagining a pack of Marlboro lights tucked away behind the range hood. The kitchen wasn’t cleaner than the living room though it was a bit darker and the stench was worse. He started going through the cupboards and drawers, not looking for anything specific though tobacco would be a nice find.
“Where’d you come from”?
 Jesus Fuck man! David whirled around staring intently into the dark corners of the room, but blood was rushing to his pounding head so quickly he could hear it. He slid his left hand along the kitchen counter searching for a bottle or a pan or something sharp, knocking glasses, plates and cutlery onto the floor without managing to grab hold of anything, but then a light flared up in the corner of the room. David caught a snapshot of the man’s face for a second before the light was replaced by an ember that flared up and then dulled down. David grabbed his temples with thumb and index finger and tried to calm his breathing, seeing white dots and shapes move across the back of his eyelids.
“Are you the jackass who’s been tearing up my terrace?” The man’s voice was something else. He sounded like he was rasping through a thick layer of dust and slime. But does he sound frightened?
 “No, I didn’t take your planks man! I, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have barged in but I didn’t think anyone was living here.”
“Really,” the man was getting up, “it’s below your standards is it?”
“Well…”
“Relax kid I’m not gonna hurt you. Couldn’t if I wanted to and I don’t believe I do.” He was limping across the room, dragging breaths that sounded labored and painful. David put his hands down. He hadn’t realized they were still up.
“I’ve never seen anyone jump that high at the sound of my voice before. Guess it’s not what it used to be.” David heard the man rummage through a cupboard. Some empty cans clanged to the floor. “Here”, he handed him a dusty can of Perino.
“Oh, cheers…”
“Riley.”
“Good to meet you Riley, I’m David”, David extended his right hand.
“Yeah I don’t really do that. You might catch something too. I’m on the verge of death here Dave.” Riley shuffled back to his seat and lit an old fashioned oil lamp. Riley didn’t look well. Even sitting down he was very tall and just as thin. His grey shirt draped from his pointy shoulders and every bony indentation in his breastplate and collarbone were painfully visible beneath the open shirt. There was something else that David couldn’t quite make out in the sparse light but the shirt was black in places, most prominently in the abdomen. Riley’s neck was covered in gashes and a black and purple bruise covered his right cheek.
“It isn’t pretty is it? Death rarely is. And when it is it’s an even bigger tragedy I suppose.”
David couldn’t meet the grey eyes that so eagerly sought his.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Riley blew out smoke and smiled, “how about a conversation?”

The Freedom Roads - Part Two

With a grunt he hoisted his thirty liter backpack onto his fourteen stone frame. With his wide shoulders and slender build he could have been a swimmer or a fireman or at least a roofer but he had always told people he was a writer and this had always surprised them. This had, in turn, always surprised and annoyed David Adams, mainly because he actually wasn’t a professional writer but why the hell couldn’t I be? He just didn’t look the part and the apocalypse hadn’t done anything to improve things. His hair was ash blonde, shoulder length and specked with grey as was his beard which was full and quite long. When he kept it in good shape the first impression was always either John Lennon or Jesus, though less Jewish. Or at least he thought so himself. 

He zipped up his coat, fastened the straps and jotted down a quick note. As he slammed the door to his world behind him he turned around and stabbed the note to the door with a sharpened screwdriver. On it, in his tall, slender handwriting it said ‘Keep this house. It’s yours!’

David Adams set out with a feeling of having done something right. He even considered whistling as he walked down the familiar dirt road through the Italian countryside but he had never been able to. She hasn’t lost her beauty, which was true. The hills wasn’t as lush as they had been but purple bushes dotted the dark greens of the hillsides and the first leaves, almost fluorescent against the blackened cork branches had already sprung. The planet will have forgotten about us in no time at all. For an apocalypse this wasn’t all that bad. But he’d gotten lucky. On the phone from England his father had always joked that up there the world could end without David knowing. And so it almost did. It didn’t slip his attention but he was a spectator more than anything else. Nestled safe in the northern Italian countryside, where things had never gotten too hellish, he followed the end of the world on television, then on radio and then he didn’t bother. Shortly after the phone calls from his father stopped the fires began over the villages in the horizon, so David Adams locked himself in with his doubt and grief for a long while. His father had lived in London. Twenty years had passed and David had come to accept that his old man had either died or was living a life much like his own. He would turn 68 this year. David missed him.

Maybe I should pick up smoking again. He’d looted the supermercati in the nearby villages numerous times but, of course, all of them were out of cigarettes, alcohol and canned goods. Some of them were trashed or burned to the ground. The villas still standing were a different story but David avoided them when he could. When he was desperate he always knocked before making his way in. Nobody was ever there - none living anyway. He hated it; going through peoples things, taking what he needed. This might have been someone’s favorite tea kettle. Maybe someone wrote a love letter with this pen. He would have to get used to it. Now was the time.