Chews Day

Wind threw up dust. That’s all it could throw up, there was nothing else left. Just the dust of a crumbling world, swirling in eddies around the last few survivors of a war so stupid no-one talked about it.

It had started because of a Presidential haircut.

It had ended when the missiles landed.

Aloran pulled his googles off, tried to spit on them, and failed. Instead, he rubbed the dust from the lenses on his cowl, which just made them even more dusty. It didn’t matter. All he could see was dust, with or without the goggles.

Dust.

The band of survivors snuggled down into the crater. Judging from the size of it, Aloran surmised it was the impact point of a small ICBM. The radiation would have killed them if they weren’t already dead. Somehow, they were immune to the toxic dust. Somehow, they kept on living.

Until the food ran out.

They were already rationing water so much they might as well not be drinking at all.

Every now and then, they’d open a label-less tin and find some peaches in syrup, or tuna in spring water, and the moisture fix would be enough to last for days. Sometimes it was dog food. Sometimes they even ate it.

What he wouldn’t give for one of those discarded tins now. They’d been stupid to not eat from them. That was when there was enough for everyone. Now there was nothing.

Just themselves.

And today was the day.

Today they had to decide who to eat.

Aloran had a bad feeling about it.

He’d never minded meat before, but now he was a possible menu choice, veganism had its charms. He’d always thought he’d gladly let a cow eat him, if it could. The stragglers around him were drooling.

Aloran was drooling.

They didn’t even have straws to draw.

All they had was an old green bottle. They were sitting around it in a circle, staring at it, wondering who would break first and have the temerity to reach over and give it a spin.

As always, it was Jax.

Jax had an appetite.

Jax span the bottle.

It slowed to a halt, the pointing end resting between Aloran and Harrow to his left.

It pointed to no-one.

That meant only one thing.

They ate the bottle.

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