Catamaran

A story that I am writing — as I get around to writing more of this story I’ll post continuing/new chapters.

Catamaran — A post apocalyptic skate story.

Chapter Three: Time Enough

“Holy shit-fuck”, Christian said to himself as his vision slowly focused. Scratching his head he looked around and saw a faint outline of Eric in the darkness sitting in the corner shivering and getting to his knees. Eric dry-heaved a bit, coughed then looked at Christian and said, “that must have been some toxic whisky, it feels like I was passed out in an alley under your mamma for a week.” Christian’s head was throbbing and all he could do was stair at the ground and wish that he did not feel like Eric sounded.

“I think that we are still in the walk-in cooler of the “LSL.” “The last thing that I remember was a huge boom and what felt like the air getting sucked out of the sky”, Christian said to the dark outline of Eric. “Let’s try to get this thing open.” Eric crawled over toward Christian’s voice and they both kicked at the cooler door as it inched slowly open.

The first thing they noticed as the light filtered into the dark cooler was that the sunlight and the air were both off-kilter somehow. The light had an odd orange glint to it, as if some giant drunk had chugged twenty PBR’s then pissed all over the sky. The air was cold and dusty, like their college apartment living room after an all night whisky binge before finals.

The second thing that they noticed was that the building did not seem to be standing anymore. There was no floor above them, just the hollowed out shell of the bar that once stood there. The church across the street was a pile of debris, and the street wasn’t really a street anymore just a torn path of rusted cars, wreckage and odd squealing things darting in and out of the destruction. “Damn, the hood looks like my head feels”, Christian said kicking a long dry PBR can out of the way. “Let’s find something to drink and maybe a taco” he said to Eric as they climbed out of the foundation and onto the destruction of a once noisy city street.

“Where’s my board?” “Fuck I can’t find it in this pile of bricks and shit.” Eric said to no one in particular as they picked their way through the destruction. They walked toward what they thought was the baseball stadium, which turned out to be a giant crater full of ruble that used to be the ball park. “Damn, I need a board, let’s see if aSsmage Board shop is still standing.” Christian said to Eric as they walked past the old skatepark.

Down the street alongside a green glowing river that used to be the Platte, they came to the smoldering heap on the block that the skate shop was on. Digging through the debris, Christian and Eric each found themselves a fairly workable skateboard device. “Shit, at least something is going our way”, cracked Eric as they skated back towards what once was downtown. “Food!” quipped Christian, “Food and beer!”

“What?” Christian said as they were rolling through the carnage of what was once 20th street. “I didn’t fucking say anything”, Eric replied. “I could have sworn I heard you moaning.” “Oh, well, this board sure does suck though.” Christian said as he managed to ollie the ash outline of a bike messenger flash fried to the pavement. “Fuck you!” came the reply from out of nowhere. Christian was getting pretty pissed in a Moe from the Three Stooges way. He did a quick slide as the urethane bit into the old concrete making a noise akin to a long extinct Sperm whale’s cry. “Why did you say ‘fuck you’ to me just now?” “I didn’t, ya dick.” Eric was saying as he kicked his board up into his hands. Christian looked around and shook his head in disgust. “I said it!” came a voice from Christian’s skateboard. Christian jumped and tossed the skate onto the ground. “What the fuck!” The skateboard rolled forward a bit and said, “I said fuck you, ya bastard!” “Now get me some skate lube, my bearings are fucking dry!”