Daphne Lamb - The Girls Guide to the Apocalypse
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- Book:The Girls Guide to the Apocalypse
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- Publisher:Booktrope, Lamb, Daphne
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- Year:2015
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Booktrope Editions
Seattle WA 2015
Copyright 2015 Daphne Lamb
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
Attribution You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).
Noncommercial You may not use this work for commercial purposes.
No Derivative Works You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.
Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to:
Cover Design by Greg Simanson
Edited by Briana Lambert
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
Print ISBN 978-1-5137-0118-9
EPUB ISBN 978-1-5137-0139-4
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015912188
When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.
Helen Keller
THE DAY OF THE APOCALYPSE was a really bad day. It was the closest thing people in the twenty first century had ever known to real actual hardship. I know it was for me, Verdell Sonobe, born of the Eighties, recipient of absentee parenting but constant loving care from the TV, educated in the philosophy that if I wanted it then I probably deserved itbut with no power, rampant viruses and limited supplies, we were closer probably to the 1800s on a good day. I was a data coordinator for Mitchellwide Industries. It was an inconsequential job at a now inconsequential company. Regardless, it helped fulfill all I wanted in life, which was falling asleep to true crime shows. I was one of the few people achieving their dreams on a regular basis, but a bad shipment of infected black market organs from China spread quickly. Add to that an ill-timed major earthquake in central Los Angeles, which set off other earthquakes, which caused ruptures in several nuclear power plants across country. The world as we knew it was over, and I was left with a dead dream. Goodbye never-ending episodes of CSI: SVU.
The Incident was on a Wednesday. Just before the sirens rang, I sat in the break room with my friend and coworker, Tatiana, a list of pros and cons in front of me, my boyfriend, Bruces, name headlining it.
So thats where were at, I said. My annoyance level at him rose just thinking about it.
She frowned at the list. He has a steady job and a car, she said, pointing at one of the items. You cant value that too much in a recession.
I made the same face. True, I said. But hes a little too proud of his community theater. Too many fans over the age of sixty-five.
Tatiana nodded. What have been your rules for breaking up with other boyfriends? she asked. Assuming of course youve had them and you havent settled just for this one.
Come on, I said defensively. Give me a little bit of credit. Ive had lots of boyfriends. Ask around.
She folded her arms. So what youre saying is, your heart is not open for business.
Not true. I looked up at the ceiling and sighed at the flux of emotional failure. Jake had a nervous breakdown and cried nonstop, then left town in the middle of the night. Michael had more video games and toys than a Japanese teenager, and Randy just wasnt going anywhere.
What do you mean? she asked. Like he wasnt serious about you?
He was a supervisor at Wal-Mart.
She raised an eyebrow. Just a guy working an honest wage? You sound hard to please.
Lived with his parents.
She nodded slightly with her head tilted. Okay, she said slowly. Hes loyal. What price could you put on that?
Used the letter z for pluralizing words in texts.
Yikes.
I nodded. Tell me about it.
Hey babe! Bruce wandered in and grabbed a can of soda sitting in front of me, one I had just opened. He tilted his head back and drank deeply from it.
I squinted and tried to assess his attractiveness again. I studied his stocky frame, dark hair and round face. He sort of reminded me of a clean-cut hobbit in Gap chinos, trying to test the waters of any infatuation that might be there. I tried to imagine him petting a puppy to enhance his appeal, then immediately felt bad for the puppy.
Hey. He smacked his lips. Ready to have lunch? You wouldnt believe the traffic on the freeway.
He noticed the piece of paper wed been huddled over.
Whats that? he asked and pointed to it. Is that my name?
I quickly crumpled it. Were writing a novel.
You should write a play, he said. And then write a part for me.
Warning sirens suddenly blared and a fire alarm went off in our building, which was then quickly silenced followed by a moment of no power. We waited powerless in the darkness when the high-pitched echoes came back on again. People in the hall stopped for a moment and then went about their business as if it were just another day. I, on the other hand, sat up, rigid in my chair, a sense of panic exploding in my every fiber.
Whats that? I asked, breathing hard. I rose to my feet and looked in every direction.
Tatiana shrugged. Who knows anymore? She pulled out a gas mask from her purse and held it up. Maybe we should have been wearing these like we were supposed to. She shifted moods and smiled brightly at me. Want to come to karaoke night tomorrow? Its totally going to be stupid, but at least we can vent all this frustration.
I was tense and gripped the table. Do we have any other safety protection?
Bruce, on the other hand, grabbed Tatianas Cheetos and shook his head, shoving his hand deep into the bag. You cant go tomorrow, he said. Its opening night of my play. But thanks for lunch.
I looked at Tatiana, momentarily calming down. Is that a pro or a con? I asked.
Verdell, she said slowly, eyeing her Cheetos. I think you know where that goes.
Bruce looked out one of the windows and continued to munch. Maybe I should head back. Traffic looks backed up.
When I look back on everything that happened, perhaps I could have been more empathetic in the aftermath, but theres no telling if empathy could have been my cause of death. Maybe had I had gone out to find my family, I would have ended up in some ditch with others with likeminded goals. I cowered inside, watching and hearing the riots outside. The thought of going out in it made me fearful of my inability to fight back or outrun anyone.
I watched my coworkers faces as they registered the fact that a real emergency was happening. Their gazes slowly traveled up in the direction of the sound of the alarms as though the world were traveling in slow motion. I felt my phone go off and checked what was incoming. My parents were calling, my roommate was calling, and my cable company was calling, presumably because I hadnt paid my bill in two months. Instead of picking one or the other to talk to, I pulled out my gas mask issued when the first virus outbreak came out. It seemed a little thin and flimsy as I stared at it in the fluorescent lighting, so I threw it into the trash and then crawled under my desk, and hoped everything would just work itself out.
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