Last of My Kind
By Evan Drake
©2019 Evan Drake All Rights Reserved
Chapter 2: Fate of the WorldWhen Shane opened his eyes, he expected to see the sun shining through his window and Pete, his bulldog, lapping eagerly at his face. He would push his dog away, groggily get out of bed, check his phone for messages, then go about his day.
Instead, he awoke to faded, crumbling walls and the stench of something rotting. Neither his dog nor his phone was there. This wasn’t his apartment. And he wasn’t asleep in his bed.
Everything that had happened wasn’t a dream.
Shane slowly sat up, reality sinking in. The fire in the oil drum had long since burned out. Sasha was nowhere to be seen, but their things were still there. He stood up, his body aching from sleeping on the hard floor. After a night’s sleep, he thought he would be able to think a little clearer or at least regain some of his memory. But nothing came to mind. No memory of what happened. No idea where he was.
Can’t stress about that now, he thought. Once I figure out where I am, I can figure out how to get home and work from there.
But before that, he needed to empty his bladder.
The shack was a total dump and smelled, but he still didn’t like the idea of taking a piss on the floor so he went outside. Sunlight peeked through the trees, making Shane shield his eyes.
The woods around them were eerily quiet. Not even birds were awake. The 4x4 they stole from the lizard-human’s camp was still there, so Shane assumed Sasha was somewhere nearby.
He could search for her later. His bladder felt close to bursting.
He barely made it around to the back of the house and unzipped his pants before the stream started. He sighed in relief as the pressure in his lower abdomen ceased. It occurred to him he hadn’t gone to the bathroom since he woke up yesterday. Or did he sleep for a few days? Thinking about it now, how long he had been out for? What year was it?
He added that to his list of things he needed to find out and focused on the task at hand. When he finished, he re-zipped his pants and went back to the front of the house.
Sasha exited the shack as Shane reached the front. She ignored him and his dumbfounded expression and threw the duffel bag in the back of the 4x4. She then climbed into the driver’s seat and stared at him. It wasn’t until she pointed at the passenger’s seat that he understood and quickly got into the vehicle so Sasha could drive back toward the highway.
The ride was just as bumpy and uncomfortable as it was the first time. Shane was beyond relieved when they were finally back on the smooth highway.
As they rode, Shane talked about his past life. Everything from his childhood to his family to his friends and past relationships. There were two reasons for his talkative mood. One, he hoped talking about his past would trigger his memories. Second, he couldn’t stand another silent drive. For whatever reason Sasha wasn’t talking. Most likely she couldn’t say anything.
As always, Sasha said nothing as Shane spoke.
“Look, I know you can’t talk and all, but could you at least nod or something so I know you’re listening?” Shane asked. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the suggestion. His last girlfriend often said the same thing. He made a mental note to apologize to her when he saw her again.
Talking for so long eventually made his throat sore, so he turned on the radio, hoping to hear some news about what was going on. There was nothing but static. He changed stations slowly, listening for any sounds of a broadcast, but all the stations only produced noise or nothing at all. Eventually, he switched off the radio and sighed.
“So the radio’s dead. Guess that means the phones are likely down, too,” he mumbled. “On top of that, the world seems to be inhabited by weird lizard-people. I don’t know about you, but I’m waiting for the punchline to this bad joke so I can go home.” He glanced at Sasha and realized she was one of those “weird lizard people”.
Sasha said nothing, but her grip had tightened on the steering wheel. He fell silent. That was unbelievably insensitive to say. He couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt or what her plans for the future were.
With the tense silence, the drive became long and awkward. There were no signs of anyone or anything, not even a bird or a wild animal. Twice they stopped for a bathroom break. Sasha refused to let Shane walk more than ten feet from the 4x4. He tried to explain to her he couldn’t go if someone was watching, but she wouldn’t hear it. When it was her turn, he kept watching the highway, fearing what she would do if she caught him slacking.
After a while, Shane wished they would see someone. Even those lizard-people would be welcome. Perhaps they could explain to him what happened to the world before they bashed his brains in.
He smiled at his little joke then frowned. If the lizard people got their hands on him or Sasha, a quick end likely didn’t await them.
The needle on the fuel gauge was almost at large E. By Shane’s estimate, they had maybe a few miles left before they were legging it the rest of the way.
A quick tally of their supplies revealed they had a few ration packs and no bottles of water. If they ran out of gas now, they were in trouble. Shane, aware of how thirsty he was, licked his dry lips and wished they had a map.
Suddenly, Sasha made a sharp left turn off the highway onto a dirt road.
“What are you doing?” Shane asked.
There was no response—not that he expected one. The question was more out of reflex. They would seriously need to work out some kind of communication system later.
Soon, he saw a barn and a farmhouse in the distance and the reason for the detour became evident. Sasha saw the path and figured it led to a private residence where they could get more supplies.
Assuming the occupants were friendly.
Sasha gripped the pistol in her lap as they approached the house. The house had seen better days. It was almost in the same terrible shape as the shack. The windows were all boarded over and dark. If someone was watching, they had no way of knowing.
Sasha pulled up to the front of the house and killed the engine. She climbed out, looked at Shane as if saying “Stay here”, then ran to the porch. Shane grabbed the knife in the back seat and followed.
When Sasha gave him a disapproving look, he quickly said, “What? You have our only gun. If someone attacks me, I’m screwed.” The truth was he was scared to be left alone. The chances of anyone out here were slim. There were no signs of livestock and the fields hadn’t been tended to in a long time, but why take chances?
Sasha didn’t try to make him leave, so he assumed she approved. He followed her cautious lead to the front door. He tried peering through the boards covering the windows, but the windows were too filthy.
The front door turned out to be locked, so she hopped over the porch railing and went around the side. Shane stayed right on her heels. Once, he nearly stepped on her tail, but she didn’t notice. The silence was unnerving. Only their footsteps could be heard crunching on the dead grass.
Where the hell is everyone? He wondered.
Unlike the front door, the backdoor was open. It looked as if someone had taken an ax to it. Most of the door lay in splinters on the floor. The screen door swung in the wind, its rusted hinges squeaking loudly. Sasha took a sweeping glance of their surroundings around then raised the pistol and approached the door.
Shane held his breath as he followed. He had seen enough horror movies to know what could happen next. He tightened his grip on the knife, his palms slick with sweat.
The inside of the house had a lonesome feel. A curtain of dust covered everything like freshly fallen snow. The walls and ceil had turned a deep shade of yellow from the lack of cleaning. The dust muffled their footsteps on the floor. The unwashed dishes in the sink along, the pots on the stove, and the slab of rotted meat on the counter—a knife protruding from the foul-smelling dish gave Shane the impression the whole family just up and left. Other than the mess someone made of the backdoor, nothing was suggesting foul play.
Sasha sniffed the air and continued. Shane sniffed the air but smelled nothing.
They entered the dining room next. Like the kitchen, there was evidence the family inside simply vanished. Two plates containing the previous occupants’ unfinished meals rested on the table. A chair had been overturned and abandoned. Shane raised a brow at the scene.
Next was the living room. They found out why the front door wouldn’t budge; it had been completely boarded over like the windows. His stomach dropped at the thought of what the people who lived there before were trying to keep out. Judging from the state of the back door, they failed.
But where are the bodies? Shane wondered. And why aren’t there any signs of them fighting back?
He was so lost in thought, he stumbled into the coffee table. He swore loudly as a picture frame on the table’s edge fell to the floor and shattered, the sound echoing through the abandoned house. Shane felt like a child so fierce was the scolding look Sasha gave him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. There was little point lowering his voice now, but he felt it necessary. “I didn’t mean to—” He stopped short upon hearing a thump upstairs.
Sasha immediately pointed the pistol at the top of the stairs. Shane held his breath, his heart beating a thousand beats per minute.
When it became clear whatever was upstairs wasn’t coming down, Sasha approached the stairs, keeping her gun raised.
“Are you crazy?” he whispered. “Whatever it is, let’s just get the hell outta here.”
Sasha ignored him and slowly ascended to the next floor. Shane couldn’t stand the idea of being left alone down there so he followed. Sasha made climbing the stairs silently look easy. His footsteps echoed through the hall and every step creaked loudly.
Four doors leading to four rooms were upstairs, each one wide open and in pieces. Shane swallowed and held the knife close to his chest.
Sasha approached the closest door first. It led into what had to be the guest bedroom or that was what Shane assumed. It only contained the bare necessities for someone to be comfortable. No signs that someone made it their own. The lack of furnishings did make it easier to search.
Sasha checked under the bed and in the closet, but there was nothing there. When she turned around and she frowned at Shane.
“What?” Shane asked.
Sasha made a twirling motion with her hand. Shane whirled around, holding the knife out in front of him. No one was there. It was then he realized he had his back to the door where anyone could’ve snuck up on them.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Sasha rolled her eyes and stepped past him. She went to the next room which turned out to be a small bathroom. One look from the doorway showed no one was inside.
The next room was another bedroom. This one belonged to someone—most likely a small child judging from the number of stuffed animals in the room. He felt a pang of sadness at the dust covering the toys, the silent plush guardians standing watch, waiting for the master to return.
After Sasha finished checking every corner of the room, she moved on to the last room at the end of the hall.
Shane wiped his sweaty palms on his leg. He knew it couldn’t be anything too serious, but his imagination was running wild.
Sasha stopped at the doorway and peered into the room. Shane peered over her shoulder.
It was the master bedroom, the largest bedroom in the house. Most of the ceiling had fallen in, burying most of it under a mountain of rubble. What hadn’t been crushed under the falling ceiling had been ruined by the elements.
Sasha motioned for Shane to stay there and entered the room. Shane kept looking over his shoulder half-expecting to see someone standing behind him. After searching the other rooms, it seemed unlikely anyone could still be inside, but why take the chance?
Loud screeching noise from the bedroom, made Shane’s heart leap into his throat. He shrieked and spun around just in time to see something large and furry running straight for him.
Shane dropped the knife and ran, screaming the entire way. He made it to the stairs before the furry thing overtook him, running down the stairs ahead of him. He froze when saw it was a wild raccoon.
Shane’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He turned back to the bedroom to see Sasha staring at him with a very disapproving look.
“L-Look, I’m really sorry for running off and leaving you—” Shane started to say.
Sasha sighed and grabbed the knife off the floor and angrily tucked the pistol into the waistband of her pants before pushing past him and went back downstairs. Shane hung his head in shame and followed.
The first thing they did was searched for any supplies they could use. The pantry near the kitchen contained some non-perishables they could make use of and some much-needed water bottles. Shane drank an entire bottle to himself.
After grabbing what food wasn’t rotted, they searched the rest of the house. They found a storm cellar filled more supplies than they might need. More non-perishables, flashlights and batteries, a satellite phone, short-range walkies, even a long-barrel shotgun and a box of shells. They packed as many supplies as they could back to the 4x4 then searched the upstairs.
There wasn’t much they could do for clothes. The guest bedroom’s closet and dresser were empty and the child’s room didn’t have anything they could fit. The closet to the final bedroom had a large chunk of the ceiling blocking it so that was out. Shane had hoped to find an attic, but it didn’t seem the house had one. Still, they took the spare blankets and sheets from the beds.
Under the mattress in the child’s room, they found a journal. Sasha showed no interest in it, but Shane put it in his back pocket. Maybe it could tell them something about what happened to the world.
As they searched the house, Shane was able to speculate quite a bit about the family that lived there. The dust-covered pictures on the yellowed walls showed a man and a woman happily married. They had one child, a girl, who was adept at horseback riding. Eventually, the pictures only showed the girl and her mother. Their faces were no longer happy, instead wearing forced smiles as if trying to prove to the world they were still a happy family. He wondered where they were now and what happened to the father.
The last thing they searched for was fuel, the most important reason for this detour. Without it, they would be forced to split their supplies into what they could carry and leave the rest.
There was no fuel in the house, so their only hope was to search the barn. Sasha wouldn’t let Shane follow her to the barn. He understood why and chose to obey this time. He wouldn’t be much help if something did happen anyway.
While he waited for her to return, he wondered what happened to the girl and her mother. The last picture showed the girl wearing a cap and gown, so he assumed she graduated high school or possibly college. Either way, she had moved out. He wondered what her dreams were and whether she succeeded before the world went to shit.
He didn’t have any dreams. Jumping around from job to job to make ends meet and that was good enough for him. He never excelled in school, only getting average grades. He just never felt a real drive to do anything or aspire toward a meaningful future. He coasted through life.
So why was he, the man with no ambitions or life skills, the only human left?
Sasha returned several minutes later, carrying a large can of fuel and smile on her face. Using a funnel taken from the kitchen, they refueled the 4x4. By the time they finished, the sun was beginning to set.
There was no point in driving in the dark, especially when they had no idea what potentially awaited them on the highway. They did the vehicle inside the barn and began preparing sleeping arrangements.
After they finished collecting supplies, they learned the plumbing still worked and produced clear, drinkable water. The first thing Shane did was take a shower. There was no hot water, but it was better than nothing. He was so glad to finally wash that strange liquid from the stasis pod off. He had felt grimy and sticky every since they left that place. It took some convincing to make Sasha take a shower as well. She likely didn’t like the idea of Shane keeping watch, not that he could blame her after the way he reacted to that raccoon.
As much as Shane wanted to sleep in a bed, he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in the family’s bedrooms. They weren’t coming back, but it still felt wrong. He would let Sasha have the sofa, assuming she didn’t sleep upstairs. Before he could set up camp in the living room, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to the barn. At first, he didn’t get it, but then he realized that was where she wanted to spend the night.
Shane had to admit it made sense. The back door of the house was wrecked—there was no sealing that door. The doors to the barn were still intact, so they could lock themselves in. And if anyone did come in the night, they would likely go to the house first. There were some hale bales in the rafters. Not Shane’s idea of a comfy bed, but he suspected it was better than sleeping on the floor again.
For dinner, they split a ration pack between them. Even with the abundance of supplies, there was no telling how long they would need it to last, so best to err on the side of caution. After “dinner” Sasha got to work cleaning the shotgun while Shane went into the rafters and tried using the satellite phone.
Everyone he knew had their numbers stored in his cell, so he never bothered to memorize them. The most he could remember was his home number, but when he called it, all he received was a message saying the number had been disconnected. Shane tried remembering his friends and family’s number but couldn’t. He settled for dialing numbers at random, hoping he would get lucky. The result was always the same. He didn’t even get an answering machine.
The thought society may very well be gone was very disconcerting. But that didn’t explain the lizard-people. Who were they and where did they come from? Why weren’t they answering their phones?
He decided to give the journal a read. He opened it and flipped to the final entry. There was only one sentence, written in a shaky hand:
We’re all going to die.
Shane closed the journal. He didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t want to read anymore. Not tonight. He couldn’t give up on hope. He needed to find his family, find his friends, and find out if he was truly the only human left in the world.
With nothing else to do, he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, formulating a plan for tracking down his family until Sasha finished her task and joined him in the rafters. With the flashlight off, it was pitch-black inside the barn, but Shane had a good idea where his scaled companion was. “Hey, Sasha? What do you think happened to everyone?”
No response as usual. Shane didn’t blame her this time. What horrible fate had befallen their family and friends wasn’t a good conversation. Even worse, Sasha couldn’t go back to her family as she was now. If they were alive, they likely wouldn’t recognize her.
He felt sorry for her. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but she could always come back with him. He owed her that much.
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