text: technically* a short story, just a short part (actually I guess it's pretty long) of a story, but i think it still fits. I've always liked the post-apocalyptic genre, and the fantasy genre too. But these types of stories seem like a dime a dozen nowadays, so a few days ago I came up with what I think was a cool idea. What if I mixed the two together? So I cranked this out, figured this would be the best place for constructive criticism, not only on my writing but if the plot/story/genre itself is good. Anyways, here it is:** “I wonder what day it is,” Drake asked, looking at the sky. The sunlight cut through the irradiated atmosphere, giving the world a red tint. The color was different everyday. It could have been beautiful, in another situation. “Like, what day of the week? Or the date?” Zach replied with little emotion. He kicked at a rock as they walked. “The date. Or just the month at least,” Drake muttered. “The fuck does it matter,” Zach spat, “it’s either the day you die, or the day you almost die. That’s the way it’s been, the way it is, and the way it’s always gonna be.” Drake wanted to argue, to yell at Zach and tell him he was wrong, but deep down Drake knew that Zach was right. Time was irrelevant. A human creation forged out of fear, a fear of the unknown. Whether Zach’s idea had been that deep, Drake had no idea, but the point still stood. The pair walked along side each other at a slow pace, the broken gravel of the road crunching at their feet, the sun beating down on their heads. There was fields of sand all around them, only broken by a single road. “Do you remember sunscreen?” Zach asked. Drake shook his head. “Ugh, it was fantastic. A lotion that you rubbed on your skin, and it protected you from the sun,” Zach grunted, the nostalgia clear in his voice. “Of course, I never really needed it before, but now I would...” Zach stopped. “What?” Drake motioned after a few seconds of silence. “You would what?” “Shut up, I heard something,” Zach stood still, his eyes scanning the horizon. “There’s not a building for another mile, if someone were here we would see them,” Drake said with confidence. He was young, only eleven. One of the youngest in the tribe, he had asked to go along with Zach on his daily hunt for supplies. Zach reluctantly agreed. As a senior member, it was Zach’s responsibility to help train the young, although Zach himself wasn’t much older. At sixteen, he was the youngest member on the council, but by far the strongest. There were rumors that his veins flowed with the blood of the gods themselves. Zach didn’t believe in the gods, however, and only laughed when he heard the stories. Zach didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t kill. “It almost sounds like a car,” Zach said, ignoring Drake’s comment, “no, it couldn’t be...” Suddenly Drake heard something too. A low rumbling sound. He felt vibrations through the ground. “Take my forty five and run behind that big rock over there,” Zach commanded Drake, “if anything happens to me, fire it into the air and run. We’re close enough to home that the others will hear it, and they’ll come and get you. You understand?” Drake nodded, afraid. Zach gave him a push and Drake ran as fast as he could, sliding behind the rock. Zach looked at the car heading down the road. It was big. Zach tried recalling the name. *Ess you cee?* Zach thought, the name on the tip of his tongue. *Ess you vee!* He remembered. *Large, with good suspension and shocks, made for traveling rough terrain*, Zach mentally checked through his brain. The SUV was closer now, half a mile away. Zach cleared his throat and took a swig from his canteen. He knew the car would stop. He didn’t move a muscle. As the vehicle roared closer, it began to slow. *Fuck*, Zach winced behind his face, *I forgot how loud these things are*. The car screeched to a halt a foot in front of Zach. All four doors flew open. Three men, and one small woman, climbed out. The largest one was carrying a baseball bat, the other two had small pocket knives. “Who the fuck are you?” The woman shouted. Zach’s face turned to stone. He eyes burned through each of them. “Does it matter?,” Zach asked. His words were colder than ice, yet they still carried humor. Or at least Zach thought so. He calmly pulled his knife from it’s sheath on his lower back and pointed it at the group. “Get your asses back in the fucking car, turn it the fuck around, or you die where you stand.” There was an uncomfortable silence. Zach didn’t like silence. It always led to something worse. The man with the club began to laugh. A deep chortle, as if he truly meant it. Zach knew he didn’t. As abruptly as he started, the man stopped, and immediately lunged at Zach. He swung the bat. Zach ducked and kicked the man’s arm at his wrist, causing the weapon to fly across the road. Zach reached up and grabbed the man by his neck, pulling him down to eye level. He silently thrust the knife into the man’s neck, twisted it, and pulled it back. Blood spurted out, caking Zach’s face. The man slumped over, gargling and choking, hands clutching at his throat. *What a pathetic death*, Zach chuckled to himself. One of the other men yelled and began towards Zach. He took a step towards him and kicked his foot into the man’s chest with all his strength, and felt the air leave his lungs. The man landed on the hood of the car, rolled off the side, and began to cough blood. Zach flipped his knife over in his hands and flung it at the last man. It lodged into his skull with a soft *thump*. As the lifeless body fell back, Zach saw the woman’s face of smugness turn to pure fear. Zach carried the same face he usually did; boredom. He glanced at the man on the ground, hacking and coughing chunks of flesh. *Well that’s different*, Zach surprisedly thought. *How the fuck did I kick him that hard?* He lifted his foot into the air, and brought it down on the man’s face. The man screamed as his nose shattered and his jaw dislocated. Zach did it again, and again. The screams turned to whimpers and sobs. The face had become a mashed combination of skin, bone, and blood. Zach crammed his heel into the center of the mass, causing the skull to crack and ooze brain. The crying stopped. Zach stared at the woman with his electric blue eyes. Her mouth was agape, trying to find the words that kept slipping her tongue. “Y-y-you’re an animal,” she finally whispered , shaking with fear, in too much shock to cry. Zach gave a short laugh. “I’ve never heard that one before!” Zach smiled, “Monster, psychopath, demi-god, but never ‘animal’. I like that.