The post-apocalyptic world isn’t that bad. Sure, there are mutants.
But, for the people of New Hope, life isn’t so much a struggle of finding food or medicine as it is trying to find a new shortstop for their kickball team.
This makes it difficult for a post-apocalyptic warrior to find work.
Thankfully, an army of killers is making its way to the peaceful town and plans to raze it to the ground. Two have offered their services. One is invited to help. The other is sent to roam the wasteland. Did the townspeople make the right decision? Did they find a shortstop? What’s with all the bears?
Even a mushroom cloud has a silver lining.
No one ever sees the good in an apocalypse. And that’s understandable.
A lot of bad things happen when the world blows up. But then it’s all
crying about the loss of family and the failure of our society,
“Waaah, waaah, waah, what have we done?”
Sure, there’s that. But what about the good things brought about by
the end of the world? Global warming? It’s no longer a problem. And
with no more global warming, there are no more whiny hippies.
True, it’s not all green trees and dead hippies. There are real
dangers out there: toxins, disease, big scary bears that have mutated to
become bigger and scarier.
But here—here in the walls of your city—lies hope. Look around.
You’ve already overcome so much. You’ve beaten the elements.
You’ve provided food for an entire community. You’ve managed to live
together without killing one another or being annoyed by the stink that
most of you are putting off.
And, there in that willingness to turn your nose, not up in the air, but
towards your funky smelling brethren, lays hope. Hope that we can
rebuild this world. Into a braver world, a saner world—a braver world
that’s much more sane.
A world where no child need cry for dinner. A world where no child need
cry because he is afraid. A world where no child need cry because you
didn’t buy him that ring pop at checkout, even though you know that
he’ll never finish it and it will just end up a sticky mass of carpet
lint and hair somewhere under the seat of the car. A world where no
child need cry for want of shelter or love. A world where that child
will finally just shut his cake hole.
This is your chance to make the world the way you want it to be. A
loving world. A free world.
Are you going to surrender this chance? God, or Russia, or somebody, has
seen fit to wipe the slate clean. Now we can apply what we know not to
do to make a better world for our children—their children, and their
children, and maybe a few generations beyond that.
You’ve already assumed the right to govern yourself, the
responsibility to function under a social contract that apparently
didn’t mandate bathing.
You are now free men and women. Are you going to let these men that
gather at your gates take that from you? Just because they’re
stronger? Just because they have an army of merciless killers? Just
because they armed that army with chains and blades? And harnessed the
power of the mighty and noble buffalo and turned them against you as the
menacing war bison? Are you? Or do you accept this responsibility, this
glorious burden, to wrestle from these ashes of mankind a better kind of
Stand. Stand against this threat. Stand with your heads held high—for
you are the true possessors of this world’s future. Stand proud. And I
will stand with you.
This is our world to rebuild. Not theirs. Ours. So, let’s not fuck it
- The post-apocalyptic nomadic warrior from a speech given at the gates
of Eternal Hope, Colorado, moments before the Massacre of Eternal Hope,
Excerpted from "Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors: A Duck & Cover Adventure" by Benjamin Wallace. Copyright © 2012 by Benjamin Wallace. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.