Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

do all that alone.”
    “Yes, dats what I mean, too.   It’s not worth it so much if you are alone.   Human beingks were meant to live in groups.   You can see dat even when dare were cavemens running around.   We survive better in tribes and families.”   He stopped for a minute and then leaned forward more, looking especially earnest.   “And it’s not an illusion.   It’s reality!   You have to think positif.   Hey, you’re Hamerican!   Your country was built on the idea dat nothing is impossible!   If you can belief it, you can achief it!”
    I shook my head at him.   He was probably right, but he was so excited about it, he looked just a tad bit deranged.   The fact that his hair was sticking out in every direction in clumps wasn’t helping.
    Peter laughed.   “I think you’ve listened to too many Tony Robbins tapes or something.”
    “You will see.   Bodo is right on dis one.”   He laid back on the tarp.   “Time for sleeping.   Goodnight, family.”  
    I watched him close his eyes, and sat there staring at him for a while.   He’d wandered in off the highway out of nowhere - a place we really hadn’t bothered to ask him about - all alone, with almost nothing to live on in his bag.   He was from another country, where they spoke a different language and had a different history.   And yet, he was the voice of reason in our lives.   He made sense and he made me feel hopeful and happy to be here under a highway overpass in the middle of Florida, headed to a giant swamp filled with lethal creatures.  
    I looked up at the sky, wondering if my dad were up there, looking down on me and sending people to me who might make my life feel worth living.   I sent him a silent message, just in case he could hear me, fingering the ring of his that was hanging at my throat.
    Thanks, Dad … for sending Peter and Bodo, and Buster too.   I like my new family.   I wish you were here too, but even though you aren’t, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be okay.
    It was the first time I’d felt hopeful about my life in a long time .
    ***
    Bodo woke us up at four o’clock with a breakfast of Pringles and water, anxious to get going.
    “Today is maybe da last day, right?”
    I pulled the map book out and studied the mile marker signs as best I could with the tiny flashlight I’d taken from the car with the grenades in it.   “Maybe.   I’d at least like to hit a tourist shop if nothing else.”
    “Awesome,” said Peter sleepily, shoving the one, still-crunchy potato chip in his mouth.  
    We packed up our stuff and got on our bikes, pedaling back up to the highway to head south once again.  
    After three hours of riding we started seeing billboards advertising a huge tourist shop.   They promised Maps, Oranges you could ship, Seashells, T-shirts and More!   A few also mentioned discount tickets to local attractions.   I wondered if any of them were way out of the way and habitable.   It was tempting to think of living in a place that was already built for us.
    A small town arose from the emptiness in front of us, making me instantly feel nervous.   Towns meant people.   It was still pretty early for canners, but that didn’t make it safe.
    “Let’s get off at the next exit,” I said.   “That last billboard said there was a big tourist shop there.”
    “Should we be aiming for a big one or a small one?” asked Peter.
    “Well, either, I guess.   What are you thinking?”
    “Just that if it’s bigger, it’s probably already been hit by raiders.   Maybe they wouldn’t bother with the smaller ones?”
    “All of dem are going to be hit - but who’ss gonna take maps into da swamp except for crazy people like us?”   He smiled at me, taking any sting out of his words.
    “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Peter conceded.
    We got off the exit and coasted to the bottom, following the signs leading us east to the tourist shop.   It was located on the edge of the town, near a strip mall - a stand-alone building with the front glass partially smashed in.
    Bodo rode his bike up to the front door.
    “Watch for glass,” warned Peter.   “We’ve made it this far without any flats, let’s not get one now.”
    Bodo backed his bike up a little.   “Who’s going in?”   He looked over his shoulder at us, awaiting an answer.
    “You and me.   Peter, you wait here with Buster.   Shout if anyone comes, and have your gun out and loaded.   Shoot anyone who looks at you