Date: Sat, 7 Aug 2010 20:51:44 -0400
From: Tom Gemcity <stlkhom@gmail.com>
Subject: It's The End of The World Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This Story is completely fictional and contains sexual
encounters between teens. Any similarities to real people places or things
are purely coincidental.  This is my first story so feedback is welcomed,
my email is stlkhom@gmail.com


Its The End of The World Chapter 1
By: Eric


I hate the cold.  I really do, especially when the electricity doesn't
work; that only makes things harder.  Before I keep rambling I should
introduce myself, my name is Johnny Cash. No haha I'm kidding, my name is
Elli Rouges and I am almost 14 years old.  For those interested in a
description here ya go, I'm about 5'8", 140 lbs with curly blondish brown
hair and gray eyes.  At that very moment I was watching the others in my
small group, my small band of misfits.  Drew and Selene were huddled up
with each other, and she was almost smothering him.  I glanced towards Ben
and Karl who was snoring noisily with their heads on leaning against each
other.  Finally I rested my gaze on Tom and Tim, the two cousins who said
they couldn't stand each other, but here they were huddled like two
frightened children, the small blanket barely fitting around Tim let alone
Tom.  They were still awake and looker miserable, so I gave them my blanket
and slipped my .45 caliber pistol into its holster for a walk.  For those
of you who are wondering why a 13 year old was armed, well that's because
the adults are "gone."  They were all killed by a biological weapon only
known as hcb or Highly Contagious Bioweapon.  I was only 12 at the time
when it all happened.  As you know we were fighting the war in what was
formerly Afghanistan when the Taliban decided to destroy the infidels,
meaning every human who was not Muslim.  And on January 3, just 5 days from
my birthday they put their plan into action.  At around 1:30 EST 3 Lockheed
C-130 cargo planes dropped their payloads all across America and almost
every other country in the UN.  The virus spread quickly and within 5 weeks
every last person over the age of 16 was dead.  But we had the "last laugh"
because two of their planes exploded on the runway and wiped out everyone
over 16 in the Middle East also.  My "posse" and I had been well off until
winter when the cold set in and finding food became harder.  But we made it
by the skin on our teeth through December, January, and, February so I
believe we are relatively safe for now. Also before how I had slipped the
.45 into my holster, we were all armed.  Tim's grandfather had been a gun
nut so we were also not lacking in that department.  But I carried my dad's
.45.  It was silver with the original wood grips; he was a State Trooper
and used it as a backup.  It's all I have left besides some pictures, and
those pictures filled my head as I walked the perimeter on "patrol."

Then I heard a noise, almost like someone moaning.  I drew my pistol and
flashlight and crept forward.  Since we were staying in a small apartment
complex there was a lot of corners to go around, and each one pushed my
adrenaline rush even higher.  I rounded the final corner and saw the source
of the noise.  It was a boy who was shaking from the cold.  I didn't give
him a chance to react because as soon as he saw me it was too late.  In a
flash I was on top of him with my gun at the side of his head.  He looked
at me and started to cry.  I shone the light on his face and was in awe.
This kid was beautiful, with soft red lips chapped from the cold, a blemish
free face, with teeth whiter than snow and eyes that were the shade of dark
blue.  Then it hit me, I knew this face, in a calm even voice I said, 'what
is your name and why are you here."  He wiped his eye with one hand and
looked at me and it almost seemed like the fear in his eyes was replaced by
something else but I could not tell.  I could feel his body relax and he
gathered his composure, fixing me with his dark blue eyes he gave me an
answer that sent a chill through me.

"My name is Brad Koster and I'm looking for you Elli."  I slowly got up off
him and re holstered the .45.  Brad Koster was the name of the kid who had
been my day-to-day infatuation for as long as I had been gay.  He was awe
inspiring before this whole fucking mess (excuse my French) with his neatly
trimmed light blond hair, the outline of a boy six pack, and man could he
run.  Not to mention he was taller than me.  I've never been super fit and
a flat stomach was something I had to work at maintaining.  But, as I gazed
down at him I noticed he was thin and weak with dirt and grime caking his
flawless face.  His hair had bits of leaves and twigs like he had been
crawling around.  Those beautiful eyes, which one-day I had hoped, paid
attention to me were now duller and sunken in.  I couldn't find my voice so
I just motioned for him to stand up.  That's when I saw fear spread across
those eyes, for they were not directed towards me, but to the silver .45
gleaming in the moonlight.  I must have drawn it absent minded, and as I
looked at the gun then back to Brad I saw he was nearly on the verge of
tears.  Then he broke the silence nearly choking on tears

"P...P...Please don't s...shoot me Elli.  I'm s...sorry just please don't
shoot!"  Then the tears started to fall and he slumped to the ground
sobbing.  Quickly I dropped the gun and ran to him.  "Brad stop crying I'm
sorry dude.  What's wrong?"  Once again he looked at me with those
beautiful eyes, only this time they were filled with tears.  The poor
bastard (French again) couldn't even get out a word with sobbing.  I
grabbed him in a hug and rocked him back and forth until he stopped crying.
Somehow I managed to pick him up and get him an open apartment.  I walked
in to the bedroom and laid him down, covering him with the large blanket
that was carefully folded at the foot of the bed.  Then I walked into the
kitchen and lit a few candles with my Zippo (another treasure) and rumaged
the cabinets for food.  Finding nothing I pulled up a chair took out my
Swiss Army knife and began carving the piece of wood that I had been
working on for days.  Eventually I could not keep my eyes open any longer
and fell asleep knife and carving still clutched in my hand.