GENRE: YA Dystopian
For a species that had been predicting its own destruction as long as
humanity had, we were decidedly unprepared when it actually happened.
You'd think Hollywood's fascination with various forms of apocalypse
would have been like Survival 101 for the modern man: what to do in
the case of a zombie outbreak (have good cardio), an outbreak of Ebola
(avoid monkeys), takeover by machines (follow the white rabbit), or a
tidal wave washing over the Alps (build an ark). But when The End
marched in with the familiar face of war and the lights went out,
everyone just stood around wondering how our lives had turned into a
late night viewing of The Road Warrior. Except instead of sand and
the Feral Kid, we got snowdrifts and mozzies the size of sparrows. The
world might not be over yet, but it sure the hell ain't what it used
I walked out of the bathroom and tossed the package of condoms I found to Mikey.
He examined the faded box and waggled his eyebrows at me. "Extra
pleasure!" As if I could care less - it wasn't like I was the one
who'd be using them.
"Spare me the details." I resumed rooting through the contents of the
long-abandoned kitchen on the offside chance of finding something
useful to take back with us. This place looked like it had been
relatively untouched, and the tool shed had yielded a few gems, if
"They're expired." His tone caught my attention more than his words.