August

There we were. Inside a van with a horrible design. If the world were still how it used to be, I’d never let myself be seen in this thing—I’d be way too embarrassed. Andrew was driving while sitting on a small pile of samurai comics—probably Kazu’s—just to see over the dashboard. He had been driving since July. Of course, we stopped along the way to rest so he could take breaks. We didn’t even have to worry about supplies or gas—Paul gave us everything we needed before we said goodbye. I still don’t know what advantage they gained from letting me destroy Paradise Castle from the inside and helping me escape. But whatever, that chapter’s closed.

During the trip, Rick was annoyed that he wasn’t the one driving, so he kept nagging me to let him take the wheel. I kept saying no—knowing him, he’d speed up just for fun. Instead, I let him shoot at any ultramutant we crossed paths with from the van window. It didn’t matter if we attracted more of them, because the van was boosted with Kazu’s power, so we could outrun anything.

If we kept going at this speed, we’d reach my sister-in-law’s place in just over a month. And then—mission accomplished. But then what? Yeah, I know the world’s ending. But what about the time we’ve got left? What am I going to do with it?

How do I want to spend my final days?

Going nuts killing ultramutants like before?

But what’s the point of that anymore?

I looked at my revolvers and wondered—what’s our next mission?

As I was lost in thought, the van started speeding up and making sharp turns. My head kept slamming into the walls of the vehicle.

“Hey, Andrew, I think Chuck wasn’t the best driving instructor,” I shouted from the back.

“No, uncle, it’s not that. Something weird is going on in the sky.”

Loud crashes began to echo around us. I stuck my head out the window and looked up—just in time to see a lightning bolt aiming straight for my face. In that split second, my life flashed before my eyes—until a hand yanked me back into the van.

“Watch out, uncle!! Those lightning bolts are lethal!!” Rick yelled as he pulled me in.

“Thanks, Rick. A second later and I’d be toast,” I said, rubbing my neck.

“Just pay more attention.”

I looked ahead and saw lightning raining down all over the road. There was no rain, but electricity was everywhere. Each bolt left a crater in the ground, and Andrew was swerving to dodge them.

This was way too strange. And there’s always a reason behind strange things.

“Rick—it’s an electric ultramutant! Shoot at the sky without sticking your head out. Andrew, just keep driving like before.”

“I don’t know if I can, uncle. The lightning’s getting worse,” Andrew said, trembling.

“Carson Rule #16: Trust yourself!” I shouted. “You’ve got this, Andrew. You’re the best driver I’ve ever seen—and I’ve ridden shotgun with the best war drivers out there!”

After hearing that, he nodded and floored the gas.

As we raced forward, Rick and I fired wildly at the sky, hoping by some miracle a bullet would hit the ultramutant. But the lightning just kept coming.

Then, in the distance, we saw a bridge—and a river underneath it.

“Come on, Andrew! Floor it!!”

I urged my nephew to accelerate, knowing what was about to happen if he didn’t. But it was too late—the mother of all lightning bolts struck and obliterated the bridge. Andrew swerved at full speed to avoid falling, just in time, and veered off-road into a massive cornfield in perfect condition. He kept going, tearing through the field, the sound of the electrical storm roaring behind us, until we reached what looked like a farm. There was a small storage shed.

“Get in there, Andrew!!” I yelled, pointing at the building.

He nodded nervously and headed straight for it. We crushed all the corn in our path and rammed right through the shed’s doors. Once inside, I told my nephews to get out of the van and take cover under whatever they could find. At the same time, I jumped out and aimed my pistols at the sky.

There I saw a being of flickering white light, electricity crackling all over its body. I fired, but it disintegrated the bullets with its power. Then it pointed a glowing finger at me, charging up.

Shit. I would've liked to die with a cigarette in my mouth at least.

Just as I was about to accept my fate, a shout rang out across the field:

“Hey! What the hell are you doing to my crops?!”

The voice belonged to an old man—furious and completely unaware of the chaos around him. He was standing in front of a small house that seemed to be the home of the farm owners.

He was dark-skinned, bearded, and wore a farmer’s outfit. Average height, limping with a cane.

I didn’t even answer. I just pointed to the sky.

He looked up at the being of light and quickly grasped the situation. The electric man redirected his aim at the old guy, but the man didn’t flinch in the face of that monster. The ultramutant launched his devastating attack—the same kind of strike that destroyed the bridge. The old man just raised his free hand.

Poor guy. Must’ve lost his mind from living alone too long.

But I had to swallow my thoughts—because he absorbed the attack with his hand, and all that came out was smoke. The glowing being froze in place, clearly stunned by what just happened.

Then the old man pointed the same hand toward his attacker. At the same time, his body started glowing bright red, and smoke began rising from his skin. The heat in the air skyrocketed—my forehead was dripping with sweat. No way… could this old man be…an ultra?

He unleashed a massive explosion from his hand that blasted the ultramutant high into the sky.

“Boom,” the old man said casually.

And with that, the storm ended.

The old man walked slowly toward me with his cane. Just in case, I placed a hand on my pistol, ready for whatever came next.

“What are you doing on my farm?” he asked, stopping in front of me with a threatening gaze.

“I…”

“Uncle Jason!!” Before I could answer, my nephews came running from the shed, yelling in concern.

“We heard the lightning stop and thought you had taken care of it,” said Andrew.

“Yeah, how did you do it?” Rick asked curiously.

I simply pointed in front of me. My nephews looked and saw what I meant. The old man just stared at them coldly.

“An ultramutant…” I muttered, moving my nephews behind me.

“Hmph. So you were the ones who ran over my corn?” he asked, glaring at the damaged field.

“No, no. It was just the lightning. We didn’t do anything,” I tried to excuse us.

The old man didn’t answer. He looked at the tire marks in the crushed corn and then at the van that had destroyed the shed door. He stared at us, judging. My nephews and I started whistling innocently, hoping to avoid the blame.

“Tch. Whatever,” he muttered, turning around and heading toward his house.

It seemed that, after assessing the situation, he realized we had no choice and decided to let it go.

“Well, with that said, we’ll be leaving.”

I grabbed my nephews and tried to guide them back to the van.

“Hold on. I just made tea and wouldn’t mind some company,” the old man said in a melancholy tone, stopping at his door.

“Sorry, but we’ve got a journey ahead,” I tried to decline.

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere with your van in that condition.”

At his words, I went to check what he meant. The van’s engine was destroyed, and one of the tires was flat. It was a miracle we’d made it this far.

“I can lend you my tools, but I don’t usually give them to strangers. If you stay and chat for a bit, maybe I’ll know you well enough.”

He opened the door and left it open.

I sighed and motioned for my nephews to enter as carefully as possible.

We walked in. Everything was empty and clean. There were only four rooms: a kitchen with a table and a TV, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. It was scorching hot inside—hotter than the desert if we stayed too long. Maybe it was due to the old man’s powers?

“Sit down,” he said as he poured the tea at the table.

Slowly, we sat. The old man began sipping his tea. I looked at mine and took a sip. After confirming it was fine, I let my nephews drink theirs.

“Hmph. The only poison I have here is for rats, so it’s impossible I put anything in it,” he said, noticing my caution.

“Sorry, it’s hard to trust people in this world.”

“Tell me about it,” he replied, staring at the black TV screen.

The whole situation was awkward and silent. I couldn’t stand the tension and took out a cigarette.

“Mind if I…?” I asked, not wanting to overstep.

“You know those things kill you, right?” he responded, annoyed.

“And what doesn’t in this world?” I said, lighting the cigarette and taking his response as a yes. “Besides, the world’s ending in four months. I’ll die before I get sick.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyes widening.

“You don’t know?” Rick spat out his tea, unable to hide his surprise.

“Nope. Without the news channel active, I don’t hear anything. I also never leave the farm.”

“Let me put it simply—” I tried to explain gently.

“An ultramutant wants to wipe out humanity because of their corruption from PowerMax pills,” Andrew said, stealing the words from my mouth.

“Ha! Even better. We deserve it for being so greedy,” the old man said, showing a smile for the first time.

“But isn’t that a bit selfish? Not everyone deserves this ending,” Andrew tried to challenge him.

“Kid, good people don’t exist anymore. They all die eventually. If you want to survive, you have to become cruel. That’s the only way, and it’s too late for redemption. Sooner or later, we’ll kill each other anyway. Might as well end it before we make the world worse,” he said, firm in his beliefs.

“But Uncle is good! He’s protected us this whole journey,” Rick interrupted.

“If he’s so good, how many people has he killed to get here?”

“Too many,” I admitted without hiding the truth.

“See, kid? Even he admits it. It doesn’t matter the reasons—immoral actions are still immoral. And you kids aren’t exceptions just because you’re young. Those pistols on your hips say otherwise. Neither am I. I’ll do anything to protect this farm. Those damn ultramutants who think they’re all-powerful, coming here to destroy what I built with my wife—they deserve the worst!” he shouted, his rage making the room even hotter.

“Hey, just because you’re old doesn’t mean you can talk to my nephews like that,” I snapped, glaring at him to cool things down.

“Tch,” he muttered, sitting and crossing his arms in frustration.

“Let’s get to more important matters,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Who are you and how did you get your powers? You said you never leave, so it must’ve been hard to find a pill.”

“Kieran. My name’s Kieran. The pill was a joke from my grandson. He used to go into town for supplies. Thought it’d be funny to slip a magic pill into my meds.”

“Haha, what a prank,” Rick laughed, and I elbowed him to shut up.

I would’ve laughed too, but it was too serious a moment—and I didn’t want to be blown sky-high.

“Sorry about him. What happened to your grandson?”

“He exploded,” Kieran said coldly, and the whole room fell silent. “It wasn’t on purpose. I touched his shoulder a week after taking the pill, and… well, since then I knew I couldn’t touch another human. I’m a walking bomb. I can only control the blasts that come from my hands.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to console him.

“Don’t be. He was weak and mentally unstable. Something worse would've happened eventually. His parents sent him here because they couldn’t handle him anymore. Thank God my wife wasn’t alive to see it—she would’ve had a heart attack. I regret it, sure, he was still my grandson. Even so, this world isn’t for anyone. I wouldn’t wish life in it on anyone.”

Once again, the room fell silent. We finished our tea, and I stood up with my nephews.

“Well, I guess it’s time to go. About the tools…”

“Take them. I don’t need them anymore,” he said, staring at his reflection in the TV with a melancholic look.

“Thanks. Here—” I tossed him one of my cigarettes. “I wouldn’t feel right not giving something in return. It'll help you relax on humanity’s last day.”

“We’ll see.”

We left the house and fixed the van. We replaced the flat tire with a spare from the shed. Andrew got behind the wheel, and we said goodbye to that sad little farm and its grumpy owner. I hope you find some hope in your final moments.