"Thank you girl....thaaaank you girl....I'll love you 'til the ennnnnnd of the world...." He sat on the edge of some cracked steps on top of Queen Anne hill, watching the sun set behind the Olympics, which seemed none the worse for wear. His arm itched terribly; reaching between the sticks, he scratched it gingerly for a moment as he hummed to himself.
He had wandered the city for two weeks since recovering his senses, and for some unknown time before that. He had decided that it was Tuesday, since no clock would tell him for sure. His Duo was as lifeless as the rest of the city, so he had no way of knowing whether the ten year battery inside was keeping its clock accurate. He suspected it wasn't.
His mountain bike still worked, but the lights didn't. He had located an old foot pump in the remains of a store, among some other things, and when his arm was better it would be ready for him.
Darkness claimed the hill at last, and he walked up the hill toward his new mansion.
He had every toy he'd ever wanted now. He even had a convertible '55 Corvette. He kept it in his four-car garage.
Maybe someday he'd ride it down the hill.
A fairly serious story, "Ramrod in the Wasteland" attempts to examine how a normally solitary character might behave when he finds himself genuinely alone.
Return to Superguy Home Page