A Savage Life
Chapter 11

We walked onto the nearest backroad. The cops’d be on my trail if I took the main way, so we continued on the road less traveled for safety, and that’s when I decided to look at the world around me. If anything, the world looks slightly normal, but the insects; why the insects? Gigantic honeybees, they’re two feet long. Cats aren’t cats anymore; they’re sabers with tiger stripes and lion manes. Sabine told me that he was here for my protection from said sabers, but ironically, I, the new guy on the block, had to save Sabine from death multiple times by sheer wit and even then, the animals seemed a lot more intelligent than I remembered. Mammoths roamed the landscape, so that has to say something else, but I’m not sure what. Manifest Destiny? I was basically going, “What’s next, superheroes in pantyhose?” This made Sabine look at me like I had finally cracked. But then we came to an odd sight- A drunk stumbling around in the middle of nowhere, looking stupid.

“Poor sot,” Sabine said. “He’ll be dead by nightfall.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I replied. “The drunk ones are the most resilient.”

And the drunk wanted to come around me and touch me, but Sabine pushed him over and we kept walking, laughing.

Back on subject, the plants had this essence about them that made you think that you were on an alien planet, and the flowers were incredibly beautiful, with green, poofy looking flowers with white, iridescent tips, ivory thorns, and big, beautiful pedals of some of the more outlandish looking blooms around me. The trees were colored like fall leaves might, only Sabine told me that it was normal for leaves to be speckled in brilliance in the summertime. He told me that they’ll turn an ugly green in the fall.

I seen a squirrel- or what looked like a squirrel that had been mutated with a lizard with an insanely long tongue, lapping up nuts with it’s sticky tongue, changing color, and eating bugs. Well I guess for all you avid squirrel hunters out there, I guess you can now own a lizard squirrel as a trophy. I am sadly unable to vouch for the taste though.

It was starting to get dark. Sabine had not stopped talking, so I grabbed a bushel of sticks and shoved it into his arms. “Make a fire, it’ll ward off whatever is lurking nearby,” I commanded ferociously.

Sabine looked around, as if actual danger lurked nearby. I laughed at the thought of it. After all, WHAT could be nearby? Masked men? Jaguars? Magical leprechauns and giggly fairies? How girly. And while he’s at it, I better get something to build a shelter. If anything, pine or oak. I learned this from the mob I ran with. If you’re going, “What were they, the 1886 Mob?” No, they were just really smart men with really good skills. I disappeared into the woods. Dead trees, all that’s here. Then it hit me, could Sabine Ducklan be my descendant? I almost passed out at the thought.

I found a small pine tree, stripped the limbs off of it, and headed back. I came back to Sabine looking at the twigs like they were a complicated math problem, and I knew I had to do this all on my own. Go figure. As I got finished Sabine started to ask me more questions. You’d think with all the talking he’s done he’d run out of things to say. I just droned him out as I lit the fire. Then he jolted my senses awake by asking about family, about Lana.

“Who was your family?” Sabine asked. I slumped my head down, and Sabine got the message that it was a personal thing.

“Alone eh.” Sabine then stated. “I’m a loner too.”

“What about your daughter?” I asked.

I don’t know much about his daughter he mentioned; he talked about her, but her fate has yet to be heard. Even then, he mentioned the bare minimum about her.

He gave me the same look I did, and I respected his boundaries. That was a topic not open for discussion

We both went to bed and woke up hungry. With us being kicked out of town with virtually nothing but my sack, I took a precaution on the food supplies. According to Sabine, food was in high demand in the Outskirts. He then also quickly acknowledged that he food he gave me was enough to tide me over till I got to the next town, or died, and he pretty much had no hopes for me living more than a day out here all by myself, so he only packed me one can of food.

I pulled out a blank can, and a blank pack. And guess what, drum roll please, I found a tent in a small microchip. Great, thanks a lot Sabine, could’ve told me. I looked at the can and I asked, “What’s in this?”

“Whatever you want it to be.” He replied.

I looked at him, then back at the can, then I looked back at Sabine, and he looked at me eagerly.

“You should say something to it.” Sabine breathed in anticipation.

Now talking to a tin can wasn’t high on my Sane-Things-To-Do list, but I talked to the can, “Oh please delicious can, give me something good.”

I feel stupid now. And to make matters worse, Sabine laughed me down. I could feel myself turning red from embarrassment and anger. “Ask it for some soup. Tomato Soup.” Sabine suggested. And so, I spoke again to the can with my cheeks becoming more and more flushed by the second, “Tomato soup.”

And the lid popped off, and Lunch-A-Served. It was hot and ready too. Very convenient. We ate and then we set off, and as a result of today’s trek, I learned that we stand on the continent Nouth America. The Americas had converged together to make Nouth America over a series of wars, scientific experimentation on tectonial plate movements, and a nuclear bomb, filled with radioactive Radon, Uranium, and Einsteinium compounds. And then their radioactive war fell apart and the radioactive substances leaked overseas and warped the whole biogenetics of every living thing on the planet. So in order for the handful of the human race to survive, the laws had to be renewed, the people had to become perfect. So all in all, the idiots of the future destroyed this planet, and warped it all to a hateful place. Yay future generations! We salute those who love to destroy everything in sight.

We kept on a steady pace to wherever we were going. And then I saw it; our lives were saved! I could see the outline of a brand new town! Hopefully, Sabine won’t go insane and get us thrown out of this one too. I could also see a sign that had been written over “Indianapolis 1 mile.” Our town we were heading to was named Junktown. I stared at the sign for a moment, thinking, “What does this town have, bozos?” I almost cracked up at the thought, and then I felt eyes on me. I turned around to Sabine standing real close, and staring me down, eye-to-eye close.

“Sabine.”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so close to me?”

“I was just hoping I could read your mind.”

Oh no! He’s one of them! Run stupid run! I dashed off and Sabine grabbed my arm. He had incredible strength and a grip like an iron bar.

“Let go of me you creep! I don’t wanna die!” I shouted.

I fought him, but he was unmoved at my attempts. I should’ve seen this coming from a mile away! He was gaining my trust to send me to the slaughter house.

“Josh!” Sabine shouted over my voice. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

“Oh yeah,” I combatted. “Last person who said that almost got me blew to a thousand pieces.”

“I’m not one of those people.” Sabine comforted. I tensed.

“I’m not going to drug you.” he assured me.

Yeah, that’s what those men told Jhon, my best friend in high school, before they kidnapped him and sent him swimming with the fishes. Yeah, I’ve had a lot of people die in my life, so I guess you could say that death follows me. I decided to give this man a second chance, but I didn’t let go of the “I better run like a wild animal” feeling. So we continued to Junktown, Sabine’s tight grip on my arm.

“Could you hold me any tighter?” I asked. He gripped me tighter than ever before. “I didn’t mean that as a challenge.” I replied smarmily.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve hardly ever been around people before, and they hardly ever wanted to be near me,” I can’t imagine why. “So I’m kindly awkward around people.” So was my wife, but not like him.

We reached the gates of Junktown before I could respond. Sabine let go of my arm, leaving it bright red and with the whelps from his hands. “Halt,” said a guard on a tower. Four more came to his aide and trained their guns on us like we were a couple of outlaws. “State your purpose.” So we have to have a purpose now, awesome.

“We’re desperate refugees.” Sabine answered.

“Refugees from where?” demanded one of the guards.

More were pouring in on us and I was getting scared. One wrong word and they’d gun us down where we stood. “From the supercontinent Australica.” Sabine answered. The guards were lined up now and rubbing their chins. They were beginning to suspect we were shady, not a good thing. Never a good thing. We’re straying too close to the red zone, and some of the army they unnecessarily sent had a trigger itch. Dangerous. Watch your wording Sabine because I can’t.

“You don’t look to be the type.” shouted a guard.

“Maybe,” Sabine answered. Choose your words carefully Sabine. “But you shouldn’t judge a book by the cover.”

The guard considered this, looked at his comrades, and with a few nodded heads, the guard looked at us and said, “Come in man, and don’t be strange. I thought you were a marauder.” And so the grand doors opened.

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