Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

plank, I looked over the edge at his feet.
    I was laughing so hard, I had to drop back down.   My muscles had turned to jelly.
    “Shut up,” he said.
    “Dude,” I gasped, bent over to catch my breath,   “you’re wearing ladies’ heels.   What do you expect me to do?”
    “It’s the only way I could get high enough to see over the fence.”
    I tried really hard to stop laughing, but I couldn’t.   I hadn’t seen anything that funny in months.   They were electric red and about three sizes too big for him.   Whoever had owned them had been one hell of a large woman.
    “Seriously, shut up.   Someone’s going to hear you.   The canners.”
    I finally calmed down, that stupid word he kept saying being the thing that got my attention enough to control my hysteria.   “Why do you keep saying that?   Canners.   What the hell is it?”
    “You don’t know?”
    “Obviously not, since I’m asking you.”   I wondered how much time this guy had spent in the company of others before the end of the world as we knew it had come.   He seemed a bit off.
    “Kids who eat other kids.   Cannibals.”
    It took my brain a few seconds to process that one.   “Say what now?”
    “You heard me.   Cannibals .”
    “Peter, are you feeling okay?   Did you drink some bad water?   You know you either have to heat it up or bleach it before you drink it.”
    He sighed loudly.   “Don’t believe me if you don’t want to, but I know what I know.   I’ve seen things,” he said mysteriously.   “I just wanted to talk to you about maybe joining forces.”
    “No,” I said immediately.   I didn’t even have to think about that one.   “I’m not into joining gangs.”   I knew I was much better off with only myself to worry about, especially since this Peter kid was obviously one pork chop shy of a mixed grill.
    “I’m not talking about a gang.   A gang implies several people.   I’m talking about just two: you and me.”
    “I don’t need a gang,” I said simply.   And it was true.   I had never needed much companionship before, and I didn’t miss it now.   I could run faster than any girl I knew and I could beat down any moron that tried to get a jump on me, thanks to my dad and his passion for krav maga.   The last thing I needed was a kid who was afraid of his own shadow hanging around with me, attracting all kinds of unwanted attention.
    “You need someone to watch your back.   We all do.”
    “Not me.”
    “Oh, you don’t sleep?” he asked with feigned innocence.
    He had me there.   That was the one time that I worried for my safety.   It had been months since I’d had a good night’s sleep.   Every little sound made me jump to my feet, thinking someone was coming to take my beans and noodles.   Or worse.
    “I’ll think about it.   But tell me why you think I should.   I mean, what do you bring to the equation, other than watching my back?”
    “I’m smart.”
    “So am I.   Try again.”
    “I can sing?”
    “ Buzz .   Try one more time.”
    He sighed, his voice wavering now.   “I have ten jars of spaghetti sauce, one .357, and ten boxes of bullets.   That’s it.”
    I sighed heavily.   It wasn’t the gun and ammo that got me.   Or the sauce.   It was the sound of utter defeat in his voice.  
    “Fine.   Pack your crap.   I’ll help you over the fence tomorrow at five in the morning.   Put everything in a backpack.   Bring a sleeping bag and any other camping stuff you have.”
    “Okay,” he said, his voice more upbeat now.   “See you then.   And thanks, Bryn.”
    “Don’t mention it.   I’m already kind of regretting my decision.”
    He didn’t say anything in response.  
    I heard the bushes moving and then the sound of a squeaky door hinge, followed by the too-loud banging of his kitchen chair against the doorframe as he carried it back inside.   The last noise to carry across his yard before the door shut was the clop, clop, clopping of his high heels on a tile floor.  
    I returned to my house, wondering if I’d made the right decision, but knowing I wasn’t going to change my mind.   My dad had always said, we have to take care of people who can’t take care of themselves … and Peter definitely fell into that category.

CHAPTER TWO

    I WAS UP BY FOUR o’clock.   I tried to tell myself it was the constant little noises that I heard outside my windows that made me caffeine-eyed before sunrise, but deep down I knew it was