Generation Doomsday

"What're we doing here, Alv? This is Big Dumb."

Alvin turned to his friend Poke incredulously. "You still don't brain it? We need food, Poke. Over that way is food. Good food, smackable food, many muchs of it. If you don't brain that, maybe you’re Big Dumb."

Poke shoved him in response, and the two boys scuffled briefly, rolling around in the doorway of the building they had been hiding in, shattered glass giving small cuts and scrapes that were largely ignored. Alvin was in much better shape of the two, and he quickly proved the victor, pinning Poke down and reaching into his shirt to pull out his necklace, it's familiar weight set spinning on its chain ad he dangled it in front of Poke.

"See this? See this, Big Dumb? What is it?"

Poke stared at it angrily, unable to move for the time being. "It's the lock-it."

"And what do the rules say?"

Poke sighed unhappily. "Whoever wears the lock-it is the boss-captain."

Alvin thumped Poke over his ear angrily as the boy squirmed to get free. "Do you have a lock-it Poke? Do you?"

This tirade went on for a few more minutes until Poke, sobbing, was eventually allowed to stand. Alvin started to leave him there but remembering how much foods he had to get he hunkered down next to his friend.

"C'mon Poke. If you're gonna sit there and cry I'm sending you back with the slim pickin's."

Poke immediately came to a snivelling stop and stood like Alvin knew he would. "N-n-no, Alv, I-I'm ok. Im not a slim pickin'. Let's get the food."

With that, they left their temporary shelter and started to walk across the cracked concrete path before them. They crossed a wide expanse of the same material, filled with slowly rusting machines, their different fading paints all slowly changing to the same faded brown. Eventually this gave way to buildings of great height, signs that still retained their color showing symbols and pictures that were mostly intact, a contrast to the majority of the building fronts themselves.

"What's that one say, Alv?" Poke occasionally asked, pointing out signs at random as they wandered about the area.

Alvin would squint at each one for a minute, before replying with one thing or another, usually more based off what he saw through the windows than any attempt at reading the signs themselves. "This one used to sell clothes," or "they bought weapons from here.". Poke believed every word, since Alvin was, of course, the boss-captain.

"When will you teach me to letter so I can read the rules?" Alvin waved dismissively. "I told you, before I turn Big Dumb."

"When will that be?"

"Oh, many much birthdays away. Fingers and toes and fingers and toes of birthdays away." "Do you really think you'll become a big dumb too?"

Alvin nodded sagely. "Definitely. I saw it happen to the last boss-captain. Right after he taught me my letters he went big dumb and ran away forevers."

"Why'd the Big Dumbs break everything?" Poke gestured around the buildings they walked through for emphasis.

"This again, Poke? Because they're Big Dumbs. Big Dumbs do Big Dumb things. Now hurry up, I wanna make it back to base before light out."

The pair scampered their way along, avoiding some buildings, running through others, making a meandering path along the street before it eventually split in two directions, Alvin pulling out his journal, carefully consulting it before turning and marching off. After a short walk they came across a bridge spanning a slow, sluggish stream, and Poke pulled up short with an amazed cry. Such buildings ahead! Places he had never seen before! One looked like a miniature mountain, another like something he had seen on a moo-vee picture poster, and around it all, steel beams and cables that twisted to fantastic heights with odd machines attached, some sporting long gone Big Dumbs still sitting in their spots.

"What is this place, Alv?"

"It's called a Scream Park, Poke. Big Dumbs used to come here and pay moneys to get scared, AND they used to pay big moneys for the food, because it was so smackable it was special."

"Why would they pay to be scared?"

Alvin shook him gently. "Because they're Big Dumbs, Poke. Now c'mon."

Together they wandered between fantastical sights, long broken machinery that in their young minds did awe-inspiring things. Alvin was no less impressed than Poke, but with his duties as boss-captain in mind he guided them in a more or less consistent direction as they explored. Sounds of buildings and metal settling caused them to dart off into various shaded corners to hide, but the longer they walked the more their confidence grew until they eventually ignored it entirely.

Eventually they reached a dead end alley, and from behind a gate at its end Alvin smelled what they had came here for; food, many muchs by the smell, although maybe not smackable like he had hoped.

"Alright Poke, we gotta climb that gate and get our stuff. You ready?"

"Sure thing! Do you think there'll be any skitters we can catch?"

"Probably, especially with this much food around. Just don't let them bite you, remember what happened to Blimp."

"I won't, I won't..."

With mild effort the two found enough hand holds to boost themselves up and over the gate. Before them was a fairly boring alley compared with what all they had seen, a disappointment to the two, but they also saw that Alvin was right. In front of them was another large machine, interior open, it's shape similar to the ones in the flat area before they made it to the scream park but bigger, and inside it's large, box shaped end was food stuffs, many muchs of food in boxes and wrappers, most of it still intact!

Hooting with excitement the two boys sprang into the trailer and began scooping up food at random, shoveling it into their sacks they had brought along. Their triumphant screams carried out into the sullen red sky, and they took a moment to partake in their bounty alone, splurging and eating huge mouthfuls and grinning wolfishly.

After a few minutes of revelry the two tossed down their sacks and hopped out after them, marveling at their find, although Poke was disappointed they didn't have any fresh skitters to go along with it. It was as they prepared to leave they heard a strange cry, and spinning around they saw a Big Dumb slowly approaching them, crying out again and making strange foreign sounds as it approached. It looked oddly familiar to Alvin, although he couldn't say how, but before the creature moved any nearer Alvin grabbed some of the metal-wrapped foods and hurled them at their foe. "

Back, get back you Big Dumb! This is our foods, get your own!"

Poke joined him in pelting the thing, and as it stopped and covered it's face, the two turned and ran, hopping back over the gate and fleeing, bounty in tow.

As they ran, drawing ragged breaths, Alvin stole glances over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed, his lock-it bouncing against his chest, the metal cool and steady, a contrast to his own heart which was racing.

"Did we lose him, Alv?"

"I think so. Big Dumbs can't climb as good as we can. Let's just keep running for a bit longer."

They reached the safety of the big empty concrete area and finally slowed. Drawing ragged breaths they hunkered down between the big machines and took a needed rest.

"What did it want, Alv?" You speak Big Dumb don't you?"

"No Poke, I can only read the letters. It probably wanted our food, next time we go out we need to find another area."

When they finally caught their breath they stood together and went back to where they came, food in hand, to feed the others of the group and tell the story of how they fought a Big Dumb and won.

John looked around the abandoned theme park for sight of the two kids but found none. He had called out to them and tried to be friendly, but by the savage look in their eyes the kids likely hadn't seen another soul in a long time, at least not an adult. They had screeched and babbled at him in a bizarre, made-up language before hurling their cans with surprising accuracy, their feral looks enough to break his heart. The one had a necklace, too, a heart locket, he thought. Was it hers? Is that what happened to my boy? He had been gone a long time, from one failing refugee camp to the next before returning to find his own home destroyed, like so many others. He searched the abandoned rides and empty buildings but saw no sign of where the kids had gone. Wandering down the fair games area he absentmindedly picked up a toy, a small mouse of some sort like the one he had won years ago for his son. With no way to track the kids and no idea where they might have went, he, like the world, moved on.