Ryan Westfield - Staying Alive

John couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He and Cynthia had crawled on their bellies through the tall grasses of Valley Forge Park.

In front of them, a few hundred yards away, a few small fires burned. They were dwindling now, nothing more than small echoes of what must have been huge bonfires.

Around the fires, there were a few dozen people. Mostly in their twenties and early thirties, it seemed. Some wore normal clothes, and some were dressed in bright costumes. Some were completely nude, dancing energetically.

Many were laughing, dancing wildly. Some were making out, couples lying deep in the tall grasses. Some were passed out, sleeping right out in the open. Some were staring at the rising sun, gazes fixed.

“What the hell are they doing?” whispered John to Cynthia.

“Partying.”

“Partying? What?”

“Looks like they’re having a big party.”

“Don’t they know what’s happened?”

John kept carefully studying the partiers. He was so used to death and violence now that the scene before him seemed completely inconceivable. He scanned the ground, looking for any sign of weapons, for any sign of violence. But there wasn’t any.

There were coolers here and there. A couple grills sat near the fires. They’d gone to the trouble of carting grills all the way out here?

John’s mind simply couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.

“Hey!” shouted someone.

Shit, they’d seen John or Cynthia.

“Hey, look! Newcomers!”

A woman in her twenties had stopped dancing. She was pointing and waving at John and Cynthia. There was a huge smile on her face.

John didn’t know what to feel. He felt fear, and felt silly for feeling scared.

The woman was wearing a bikini and nothing else. Her long blonde hair hung down around her chest. She was deeply tanned and all smiles. None of the other revelers seemed to pay attention to her.

She jogged over to where John and Cynthia lay hidden, moving jauntily.

“Hey!” she said, stopping in front of them, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you two doing down there?”

“Uh,” said John.

He’d been through so much. This seemed too strange. This young woman seemed like she was living in a different world entirely. She was acting like she was at a beach party, and that society had never collapsed.

“Hiding,” said Cynthia.

“Well come on, there’s no need to hide. Join the party!”

John finally stood up. He was about a head taller than the young woman.

“The party?” said John. “What party?” It was a dumb thing to say, but he was too flabbergasted to say anything else.

“The party!” she said, bouncing up and down with excitement as she spoke. She gestured over to the dozens of others. “Right over there! It’s one of the best. You’ve got to come. We’re having so much fun.”

John saw that the woman’s pupils were dilated. She was on something. Maybe ecstasy, judging by the way she was acting.

“Don’t you realize what’s happened?” said John.

“What do you mean?” She spoke with a high-pitched, innocent voice, full of wonder and enthusiasm. Not to mention complete denial about the world’s situation.

“Everything’s… gone to shit,” said John. “Society’s collapsing…” He didn’t even know where to begin.

“They killed my husband,” said Cynthia.

“A rogue militia has overtaken the Main Line,” said John. “The city… it’s complete chaos…”

“You’ve got to look on the positive side,” said the young woman. She wouldn’t stop bouncing.

John’s jaw fell open. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. So she definitely knew what was happening, but was choosing to live in extreme denial.

“We came out here to party when the power went out,” she said. “And we’re having the best time of our lives.”

“Aren’t you worried?” said John.

“Worried? What for?”

“Do you have food?”

“Food? We ran out of it a week ago or so. We’ve got plenty of molly, though.”

John knew that molly was a term for high quality MDMA, or ecstasy. He’d taken some once, after a night of drinking, and he’d woken up the next day with the worst headache of his life, unable to read his financial spreadsheets at work, his mouth and throat parched beyond belief.

The pills would keep them happy, maybe, but it wouldn’t feed them or keep them alive.

“Come on,” said John, taking Cynthia’s arm. “We’ve got to go.”

“You’re leaving? You’re not going to party with us? We’ve got plenty of molly for everyone.”

John knew there was nothing he could say that could convince the young woman or her friends of anything. They’d chosen to tackle the collapse of modern civilization with pure hedonism and nothing more.

John led Cynthia away from the party, back to their packs in the woods. The young woman called out to them the whole way, urging them to come back to party.

“They’re not going to last long,” said Cynthia, taking a long drink of water and opening an energy bar.

“No,” said John, shaking his head. “No, they’re not. I’m surprised nothing’s happened to them yet.”

“I guess they have nothing the militia would want to steal.”

“Maybe,” said John, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m dead tired, and I bet you are too. Let’s get some rest.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” said Cynthia. “I’ll wake you up in the afternoon. We’ll leave after dark, right?”

“Right,” said John. “Thanks.”

Cynthia sat cross-legged, eating her energy bar. There were tears in her eyes as she looked towards the distance where the partiers were.

John lay down in his clothes, using one of Cynthia’s blankets as a make-shift pillow. He was so tired he’d be asleep in seconds. As he closed his eyes, he wondered if it was really wise to put his trust and life in the hands of a woman he’d just met. He doubted she’d betray him, but what if she decided to leave him sleeping there, completely unprotected? John didn’t wonder long. He was asleep within moments, too exhausted to worry any longer.

Max’s heart was pounding in his chest.

There was no turnoff ahead. There was no chance to lose them.

Max knew there was only one thing to do. And that was fight.

His mind was fixed. He was determined. He only saw one way out. And he wouldn’t change his mind, no matter what. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

He didn’t know why he’d decided on what he had. He didn’t know why he was so dedicated to saving these people that he hadn’t even known a couple weeks ago. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a purpose in his pre-EMP life. He’d just been an office drone, longing for a purpose, longing for some way to give his life meaning.

Now he had a purpose. Now his life could have meaning.

But it might mean losing his life in the process.

Max was OK with that.

He felt alive, like he never had before. Intense energy filled him, drowning out the pain.

“All right,” said Max, speaking loudly, his voice sounding commanding as it boomed through the minivan interior. “Here’s what we’re going to do. And it’s not up for discussion. Georgia, you’re going to slow down and I’ll drive. I’ll drop you all off, and then I’ll lead them down the road, away from you. You’re going to take with you what you can and run into the woods. Don’t turn back.”

“You can’t do this, Max,” said Mandy.

“I’m doing it,” said Max. “No arguing.”

“You don’t stand a chance against them alone, Max,” said Georgia. “I’m going with you.”