1.02: Fuck the Apocalypse

The young woman stooped down and plucked the bush before her free of the carrots hidden under its leaves.

“I hate carrots,” Shannyn muttered sourly as she stowed them in her small knapsack. “My fucking kingdom for a potato.” Not a sentence I ever thought I’d say. Oh how things changed when an apocalypse was afoot.

After scouting the area for more vegetables and finding nothing, she turned and made her way back towards home. Although “home” was probably a strong word; the shelter she’d found for herself was more like a bunker – but that’s how all homes were now. The “mayor” – more appropriately called a dictator, really – had determined that the best way to live in this new world was in a small box. Ugly boxes, too, since it was next to impossible to get decent building material.

Boohoo, nobody wants to trade with the apocalypse city. Cry me a river. Nobody wants to live here, either, but you won’t let us leave.

“Home sweet home,” Shannyn said to herself sarcastically as she let herself inside.

For a moment, she felt a pang in her chest. When she’d first kicked out the people who’d originally built the shelter, it had been Spartan, barely furnished. Then Giovanni had gotten inside and made it into something that almost looked like a home. Getting her hands on the paint to cover the bare walls hadn’t been easy – but it had been so worth it when he’d smiled at her.

Heart aching, she spared a glance towards the picture she’d tacked up on the wall before shoving her feelings aside. God, when did I become such a fucking pussy? Six months ago, I was the one making people cry.

Thoughts far away, Shannyn went to the sink to wash the vegetables she’d harvested. Most she put up on shelves for later, but a few she took with her over to the sofa. As she munched on a carrot, trying to pretend it was really a bag of Doritos, she tried to pull her head out of the past.

Sure, okay, she’d once been one of the baddest bitches in Oasis Springs. She’d had a pretty sweet deal going on with the mob – hell, she’d practically been raised by it. Her father, Lionel, hadn’t been the top, but he’d been pretty damn close, and that had made life very good and very easy for Shannyn. But the days of silken sheets and showers with five heads in them were over. She’d tried to hold onto her place when the Event happened, but keeping herself and Giovanni alive had been more important. In the chaos, a new family had emerged victorious.

Her mood blackened at the reminder of what she’d lost – and now she didn’t even have Gio. She bit into her carrot hard, the crack loud in the silent room. Fuckers. Fuck the whole fucking lot of them.

“And most of all,” she said aloud, venom in her voice, “fuck this apocalypse.”

She could not believe she was unironically calling the Event – as she’d come to call the mysterious happening that had resulted in life as she now knew it – the apocalypse, but that was what it was. Normalcy in Oasis Springs – hell, if it was even still called that – had ground to a screeching halt the moment the sirens had started going off all over town. The economy was in the shitter. She couldn’t even shower thanks to the fucking apocalypse. She was living off of shit she foraged from the wild.

So, yeah. Fuck the apocalypse right up the ass.

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