Alone

Fires consumed the town. People huddled close with their loved ones as the world continued to march toward the end of an era. Riots hastened and grew more violent. Governments were toppled as civilization met its end. Chaos was the new law of the land, anarchy reigned supreme. Death became standard fare as the blood of the old world flowed through the streets. Men, women, and children lost their lives the night Earth fell. Those unlucky enough to have survived pondered what the new world has in store for them. Many took cover in their homes and prayed to whatever god that was out there to keep them safe. To let them prosper in the hell that consumed the world. Nearly every innocent had the comfort of having someone they love by their side as humanity collapsed.
Nearly everyone except Daniel Rodriguez. He was all alone in his apartment, and what did he do? He got fucking drunk.

. . .

“Let the mother fucker burn.” Daniel slurred as he chugged his bourbon from his couch. “About god-damn time the world ended anyway.”
Daniel was a young man, in his early 20s. He was actually quite handsome as well, even when drunk. When sober, he kept everything clean and relatively organized. Believe it or not, Daniel was actually a well-liked individual. Everyone thought he was a great guy. Some called him a hero every time he helped someone else. But no one ever said being well-liked meant never being alone. Unfortunately, that’s just what Daniel was. He was alone, and within his good heart laid a bitter soul.
“Good riddance.” Daniel hissed. The alcohol flowed down his throat, burning as it moved along. The television across from his couch blared with images of the riots and uprisings happening across the globe.
Outside his apartment, screams penetrated the skies. Flames flickered to life across the street as bandits and raiders descended upon the area. Gunshots were heard and maniacal laughter ensued. Daniel stumbled to his window and peeked through the blinds.
“Oh god-dammit.” He uttered to himself. He observed the shadows of the mob, approaching the road separating his apartment complex from the one being attacked. He knew, even in his drunken stupor, that they were on their way there.
Daniel closed his blinds and attempted to barricade the window and door. But being the drunk that he is, the protection wasn’t exactly up to par. A simple chair against the door and his bookshelf only covering half the window was all there was to keep him safe from the wandering raiders.
“Those damn idiots. Couldn’t leave us alone to enjoy the silence.” Daniel searched in his closet for his revolver, taking constant swigs of the bottle in his hand until there was nothing left.
The young man, revolver now in hand, slowly dragged himself to the kitchen. He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of dark red wine and closed the door. He popped the cork and readied himself for another chug.
“Here’s to the end of the world!” Daniel raised the wine bottle up into the air, spilling some of its contents onto the carpeted floor. He stuffed the revolver into the side of his pants as he gulped down the red liquid. He put the bottle down once he took notice that the raiders were beginning to cross the road to his building. Daniel readied himself, wrapping his hand around the grip of the hidden gun.
But then, Daniel collapsed to the floor, head colliding with the wine-stained area of his carpet. Right then and there, Daniel succumbs to the alcohol, passing out and knocking the open bottle of wine to the ground, shattering the dark glass and releasing the contents everywhere.
“I heard something shatter in here!” A voice called out from outside the apartment. “Someone help me knock the door down!”
Suddenly, Daniel’s door started shaking, the people outside violently pounding against the wooden frame.
“Okay, one three. One…two…THREE!” One male sounding voice yelled out.
Daniel’s door broke down; chair guarding the door was sent flying. The raiders trampled in and surveyed the apartment, rifles and Molotov cocktails gripped tightly. All were dressed in mix-matched armor, haircut in wild ways. Paint and markings littered their bodies, as well as self-applied piercings.
“Looks like the poor little shit killed himself.” One of the raiders commented, as they took a quick glimpse at Daniel’s body.
“Doesn’t look like there’s much here. Just a buncha’ comics n’ movies n’ shit. Nothing of actual value.” The female raider leader observed. She looked down at the red stained carpet next to Daniel and took a close look at his body. “The blood looks a little…weird. I want someone to taste the blood. You, go and do…”
“Lady Death! Cops are coming!” A young raider informed worriedly.
“Fuck! Alright forget the body, we needa stomp these mother fuckers out! Let them know there’s no need for their shit anymore! Let’s go!”
The raiders ran out, roaring and ready for battle. After several minutes, gunfire broke out. Raiders and remnants of the police force battled and died for their causes. For the respective worlds that they lived in. In the end, the new world won. In the end, everyone was forced to adjust to the new world. The desolate remains of what was. Everyone, including the drunk and unconscious Daniel.

. . .

Two weeks after the Old World ended.

“Piece of crap. Start, dammit. I need to get to town!” Daniel raged as he kicked his car engine repeatedly.
Daniel’s bitterness had overcome him completely. Forced to travel the wastes of Old America, Daniel has gone town to town, eating his fill and moving on. He shied away from relationships of any kind. If he interacted with anyone, it usually took the form of a bar fight with a random stranger.
Towns and cities alike were torn and raided. Nothing felt the same, and nothing was. It was like cavemen living in a formerly modern world. Everything was destroyed or close to it. The only thing that could have made the new world worse is that it would have been brought on by nuclear warfare. But the only difference that would have made is that there would just be radiation.
“Ah dammit. Looks like I’m walking.” Daniel sighed, unable to start his vehicle. He collected his bag filled with supplies and picked up his carbine. The nearest town was around ten miles away, and daylight was starting to wane. Daniel stepped along the highway he was on, whistling a tune in the setting Minnesota sun.

. . .

Daniel managed to walk five miles in less than an hour and a half, but the sun was almost gone. Even though it’s spring, the night forced Daniel to zip up his leather jacket and take out his wool gloves to fight the cold.
Walking fast, Daniel gauged his surrounds. To his left was the highway, followed by woods. To his right was simply dense forest. And a noise he hoped to God he wouldn’t have heard on his venture.
A growl emerged from the bushes, and slowly, a snarling German shepherd exited the forest, fifty or so feet from Daniel.
“Hey doggie, let’s not do anything hasty. I really don’t want to kill a dog. I like dogs!” Daniel exclaimed, raising one hand and searching for a knife with the other.
Daniel observed the dog, and noticed a collar around its neck. A sly smile made its way across Daniel’s face.
“Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog?” Daniel started saying cutely. “You’re a good dog! Yeah! Come here!”
The dog’s aggressive disposition faded and it trotted happily to Daniel, tongue hanging outside of its mouth. Once the dog was close, Daniel gently grabbed its collar and attempted to read it despite the darkness.
“Jessie? Is that your name?” Daniel asked the dog. Surprisingly enough, Jessie barked in response.
“Well, looks like I’ll have to give you something. Here, I’ve got some jerky. You’re not a vegan dog, right? They exist, you know. It’s idiotic to say the least.” Daniel offered the jerky to Jessie and she excitedly ate it from his gloved hands. “Alright, now get going. You got your food, Jessie. Take care of yourself!”
Daniel walked off into the distance, and Jessie proceeded to follow. Realizing Jessie is on his tail; Daniel stopped and turned to the dog.
“I already gave you food! Go on, get! Go find some other food!” Daniel called out, irritation birthing inside him.
“Jessie, I swear, go find someone else to bug! I can’t support you!” Daniel mentioned as he continued to walk. Jessie, being the ever persistent dog that she is, followed happily behind him.
“Seriously Jessie, go kill a raccoon or something. Or another person. I really don’t care.” An annoyed look took over Daniel’s face as he hastened his pace. But Jessie just matched his speed, merrily skipping along, now beside Daniel.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Jessie, GO!” Daniel yelled out as he came to stop. Jessie stopped, sat down, and turned her head curiously as she looked at Daniel.
“Fuck. Fine, whatever. I don’t care anymore.” Daniel sighed, caving in to Jessie’s tenacity.
Daniel and Jessie marched onward, nearing the town ahead.
About an hour later, the duo of man and dog reached the town of Annandale. Daniel trotted along, keeping an eye out for both raiders and a bar. To his enjoyment, he found a bar first.
Before entering the tavern, Daniel eyed a motorcycle, complete with a sidecar. Ideas ran through the young man’s head, gradually piecing together a plan. Daniel wanted that bike, and he was going to get it one way or another.
“Jessie, I want you to stay out here, alright? I’m going to get a drink, and find a way for us to get that motorcycle.” Daniel informed the dog. Jessie happily lied down next to the bar door, preparing for a nap.
Daniel entered the bar and observed his surroundings. A few bikers here and there, a little girl playing with dolls in the corner next to a broken jukebox, nothing too intimidating. Daniel strolled to the counter and took a seat.
“I’ll have a bottle of your strongest vodka.” Daniel asked the bartender.
“What? Are you sure? No offense kid, but you look like you can barely hold your alcohol.” The female commented.
“That’s no way to talk to a customer!” Daniel snorted.
“Whatever kid, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Did you want a glass with that?”
“Nah thanks. I’ll drink straight from the bottle.” Daniel glanced to where a group of bikers were, the group glaring at Daniel through their sunglasses.
“What’s up, fellas? Like what you see?” Daniel snickered as he took a swig of his vodka.
“What are you trying to say, you scrawny little fuck?” One biker interrogated.
“Nothing, buddy. Nothing to get your lacy thongs in a bunch.”
“Are you trying to start something?”
“Nope! Not with all of you anyway. Which one of you owns the bike with the side car?”
A man with a classic motorcycle helmet and spiked vest stood up. One muscular arm is covered in tattoos, the other covered is scars.
“It’s mine.” The man said, glaring harshly at Daniel with his dark, cold eyes.
“Fantastic, just the man I was looking for. Listen, how about a little challenge. If I win, I get the bike, if you win; you keep your bike and get to kick my ass. I can see how much you’d like to do that in those dull-ass eyes of yours.” Daniel offered.
“What makes you think I’m going to accept that, when I can just kick your ass right now?” The man asked as he menacingly made his way to Daniel.
“Because it’d be fun. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to look like a punk bitch in front of your friends over there. Hell, they’d probably liken you to one of those Raiders that roam the lands.”
“You best watch your tongue, kid. You wouldn’t want to call me that again.”
“I never actually called you anything! But I’ll call you that if you don’t take my challenge.”
“What’s the challenge?”
“Whoever can drink the most wins the bike. Whoever caves or passes out first, well, you know.” Daniel presented with such confidence. “If you think about it, it seems you’ve only had a few beers. I, on the other hand, already had a bit of this vodka. It’s only a matter of time until I’m drunk. So what do you say?”
The man took a seat next to Daniel, eyeing him with suspicion.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Terrific. Pick your poison.”
“Jennie, I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Now it’s a show!” Daniel laughed as the bartender gave the biker a drink.
Daniel gave the biker a head start. He watched the man chug away at the alcohol, quickly at first. Then Daniel began drinking his vodka, slowly, resisting the burn of the liquid going down his throat. The man noticed Daniel drinking and quickened his pace. Daniel glanced at the biker, now looking away as the bottle’s bottom slowly rose into the air. Daniel scanned the biker and noticed the keys to the bike on a lanyard inside the right pocket, near Daniel. The youth saw an opportunity to claim his desired prize.
Daniel smashed the glass bottle against the biker’s head, and snatched the keys from his pockets. Unfortunately, Daniel felt the alcohol’s effects setting in. His reflexes started getting slower, and the other bikers rapidly rushed to the tipsy young adult.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Daniel sputtered as he ran toward the tavern’s door.
“You ain’t getting away, kid!” One biker yelled as he grabbed Daniel by the back of the neck.
Daniel kicked and flailed as the motorist took the keys away from him. He then threw the youth to the ground, and the other members of the biker gang began kicking and hitting Daniel.
“ENOUGH!” The bartender screeched, cocking her shotgun and pointing it at the bikers. “If y’all want to drink here again, and I know y’all do, you best stop this shit right now. Throw the little punk-ass out if ya have to.”
The biker Daniel injured stumbled to Daniel, still attempting to block any shots from the others. The biker picked Daniel up and proceeded to launch him from the bar.
“If I see your fucking face again, I will put a bullet in between your eyes.” The biker warned as Daniel hit the ground.
“Ah fuck you guys!” Daniel yelled, sinking into intoxication. “Come…come on Jessie. Let’s go get some water or something. I think…think there’s a lake nearby.”
The youth stumbled away from the bar, towards the woods close by.
“I am a, I am gonna, oh God. I am gonna have the worst hangover tomorrow. Why did I drink that? I’m a…I’m a moron.” Daniel grumbled to himself as he tripped across the ground, Jessie trotting next to him.
Soon enough, Daniel found a small waterhole in surprisingly good condition. He roughly dropped next to the waterhole and scooped up water. Jessie lapped up water next to Daniel, apparently quite thirsty. Daniel continued in his stupor, drinking the water in attempt to wash his system. But it wasn’t enough.
After a minute, Daniel passed out, right leg dipping into the water. Jessie looked up from her drink, and slowly moved to Daniel’s side. She lied down next to him and snuggled close to the drunk’s body, closing her eyes for the night.