As mentioned above, I’ve been working on a short story. The goal is to work on my writing skills and sharpen my ability to write/tell stories - eventually leading to writing movie & television scripts. Those longer stories seemed too daunting to start & complete so writing & completing a few short stories felt like a more manageable starting point. I’m going to post what I’ve written so far if anyone wants to give constructive criticism and/or feedback. The conclusion hasn’t been written as I only have a rough idea of what happens next, but I’m pretty proud of what I’ve produced so far:
“Rats again?” I asked.
“If you want something else, you’re welcome to go find it. More for me.” Johnny replied, in an almost mocking tone as his teeth clamped down on a freshly roasted carcass.
Given the opportunity I would probably kill Johnny for a McDonald’s hamburger or any sort of home cooked meal. Although that would be a mistake because I would almost definitely starve to death without him. I was less than capable when it came to catching food. Being a hunter gatherer was not something I studied in college. There’s also very little chance I could manage to kill him without him getting me first. Johnny was giant hulk of a man, just by looking at him you’d guess only his muscles weighed as much as my entire body. Before the collapse we almost certainly would have never been friends, even our crossing paths would’ve been unlikely. In truth, I was lucky Johnny took a liking to me because surviving this long might very well have been impossible without him. I still couldn’t entirely figure out why he did keep me around. He didn’t need me for survival. As most as I can figure, he wanted a friend around who he thought wouldn’t stab him in the night and kill him for food. Someone who needed him more than he needed them.
Next to the fire on, a tattered brown blanket, laid three newly cooked rats. Grabbing one up by the tail, I delicately removed a single piece of lint before taking a seat next to the pile of burning sticks and money. Admittedly, one of the more genius of Johnny’s ideas. No one was going to come looking for their savings funds. No authorities would come haul us away for robbing a bank and, more alarmingly, setting our loot on fire. Banks inside the city limits were flush with this dry kindling. Then there was the added bonus of being able to take shelter within a bank’s immense fortress-esque walls, although we couldn’t stay in one place for too long. Survivors, if you could even call most of them that, rarely showed the same kindness and sympathy Johnny afforded me. A fire in one place for too long would eventually draw attention, and attention we sorely did not need.
I closed my eyes as I took a bite from my dinner. Trying my best to imagine it was anything else.
“Still not used to it, eh?” Johnny snorted.
“I don’t know how anyone could ever get used to it.” I replied, my eyes still closed.
“What’re you pretending it is tonight?”
“A hamburger. A hamburger with pickles, lettuce, ketchup, and mayo.” The more I described it to him the more the image felt real in my mind.
“Hamburgers again?” laughing softly. “That’s the third time this week. Did you ever eat anything else?” His judgmental tone delivered softly, muffled through a mouthful of rat meat.
I didn’t respond. The truth is I didn’t really. Before the virus my life was the kind of fast-paced go go lifestyle you’d expect from a corporate executive living in the city. Fast food was the easiest way to sustain myself, taking the hassle out of having to choose made my life easier. Pretending I was eating hamburgers was the only thing I could do to not think about how drastically everything had changed.
As I choked down another bite a sudden crash came from the bank entrance followed by the sound of falling glass. I turned to Johnny, “What was that?”
His eyes grew smaller as he strained to hear more.“Get out of sight.” He ordered in a hushed and forceful tone.
I quickly got up and moved toward a nearby counter, leaving the fire ablaze with no time to waste. No sooner after I was hidden could I hear a symphony of footsteps getting closer - scraping against the bank’s cold marble floor. “Shit shit shit.” I thought to myself, my heart pounding and my breath as heavy as a stone. How many are there? What if they found me?
“Over here!” a first voice shouted, calling his cohorts over. The scrambled scraping of the footsteps became louder and more distinct as they honed in on their targets.
“They can’t be far. Fan out,” boomed a second much closer voice.
Where was Johnny? I had sheepishly retreated so quickly I didn’t make note of him. There weren’t many other places to hide from our spot, fewer that could hide his burly frame. Something we would have to better consider in the future if we made it out alive. A shadow on the wall facing me appeared, largely unformed at first before beginning to narrow and silhouette the shape of its master. A single pair of footsteps echoed louder as the shadow focused in ever steadily. Shit shit shit.
Then came a loud bellowing roar as the shadow on the wall was slammed by a second into the still square edge of my hiding counter. This voice, however incoherent, was obviously familiar. There’s Johnny. On the wall, his menacingly large shadow had another pinned to counter. The sound of his fist pummeling a face made me cringe as each forceful blow shook the counter against my back and sending spatters of blood to stain the floor beside me. Sounds like he’s winning. Part of me wanted to look but I couldn’t risk being discovered, the shadow puppets would have to suffice.
“What the fuck?” came a voice, too far away to be the victim of the onslaught.
“Get. Him. Off. Of. Me!” cried out a voice between blows.
A moment later the punches stopped. However many there were, it was enough to stop Johnny fast.
