What made me want to end the world?

I have always been someone that is intrigued by catastrophic end of the world scenarios. I like to put myself in the shoes of a survivor or someone who is yet to experience this monumental life experience. For the most part I engage in the ever so discussed “Zombie Apocalypse” that usually has me scouting others to help me battle the undead and get to safety.

The story of Walkers Run is just that, an end of the world Dooms Day book that singles out a lavish street, Walkers Run in a seemingly quaint town. I can honestly say that somewhere deep down inside there is a little of me in each character. After all THEY say write what you know. Keeping that in mind I should assure you that I am least like the character Eddie, the lovable villain that boils your blood and turns you ice cold all at once.

So now that you have a little background as to why I pursued this overly populated idea I urge you to read over the synopsis and first chapter for a sneak peek. I’ll be updating this as I go and this book takes on a life of its own, ENJOY!

The countdown to the end of the world is on, with 2 weeks remaining. As the tension builds to this date, the families on Walkers Run cul de sac are faced with deception, hatred, fear and their ultimate demise. Five households try to make peace in their final hours ending in disaster.

JARED- THE COUNTDOWN

Its noon on Monday, I stand on the corner of the street and watch two elderly women sip from their tea cups of the quaint little bakery across the street. The one woman fishes around her overstuffed purse and pulls out a flask. The other woman claps her hands in excitement as she pours them both a rather strong drink and they cheers. I’d say this is a rather odd activity to witness but considering the news we received a month ago it all makes perfect sense, people just don’t care anymore.

I glance down at my cell phone, the timer that is constantly displayed on the screen counts down to two weeks, 23 hours and 14 seconds to the end of the world.

A month ago planet Earth was given the news, the end of the world was nigh. It doesn’t really matter what failed plans were set into motion, the end results were that they all failed. Mankind could no longer escape the end and so we all somehow needed to come to terms with it. Some people carried on with their lives, and some people just lost their minds in the midst of this inevitable tragedy. I guess I chose to go on with things normally. This morning I dressed for work, kissed my girlfriend Rachel goodbye and ate a croissant and Oxycontin pill for breakfast as I waited for the train. I watched with little enthusiasm as two young offenders slashed the tires of a few cars parked at the train stations parking lot. They emptied the contents of one car and were on their way. I wondered if the owner of their car would care at all when it was time to make their discovery or if they would just kick the ruined car and leave the same way they came. I don’t waste too much time thinking of this and look back down at my tablet that is perched on my lap.

Back to the corner at noon, I stand here bewildered. The old women have carried on their tea party with more servings from the small flask and I turn on my heels and walk away. I just can’t get my head clear. I’ve spent the better part of two years confessing my undying love for Rachel, the woman in the picture that has her mouth pressed against my neighbor Mrs. Rochester. Rachel is a woman that has always expressed her distaste in same sex relationships. It’s her preference and I have never questioned it. But it’s safe to assume that I was very confused when I received the texted image of her and Mrs. Rochester bound together in a steamy embrace. The text comes from Mr. Rochester himself, a man that towers over me and laughs at most of my jokes. I guess you would call us pals. So now we all know what is going on, but I still can’t place together how I will talk to Rachel about this. I am heartbroken and angry, sad and confused. It doesn’t help that no matter how I try to resolve this we really only have two weeks left to live, what the hell does it matter anyways?

I walk back to my building to collect my things, there are only a handful of people that still come in each day and I figure no one will miss me if I duck out. No one longer cares about their finances anymore so why should I care? I grab my jacket and briefcase and look at my cubicle. Five years and straight out of college and there is nothing else to bring home. I leave there knowing this is the last time I ever set foot in this building. I send Rachel a text about dinner, trying to come off as normal as possible and brace myself for the shit show that waits when I do finally get the courage to ask her what the hell is going on. Sitting down on the train I pop another pill, look down at the bottle and take another one out. I look out the window and wonder if Rachel is with her right now.