John sat on the top of a turned-over car. His legs were crossed and he was furiously tapping his knee.
An hour ago, someone in the car had said.
"Call. Call a warrior."
Even someone with their head in the proverbial sand like John knew what a warrior was.
They were the centrepiece of the Sunshine Republic. The humans were like living weapons. The high-level warriors could make as much as high-level artists or politicians. Or mid-level CEOs.
Meaning in simple terms. They were all rich. The lowest salary that a warrior could be paid was 200k a year. And salaries that low were scarily uncommon.
They were high-ranking military officials so it was a given that they would know some about the current situation.
They also might know where more food was.
Which was an added side benefit.
If John could get a warrior on his side he would be off scot-free.
John had been waiting for a warrior to arrive for an hour. The sergeant's corpse had started to stink in the summer heat. John knew he would be shot if he got off the top of the car. So all he could do was sit here.
Ugh. This is so annoying.
John had already killed someone. Something he said he would never do. And all he had as a consolation prize was the fact that they were an opponent.
And now he had to wait for the benefits of his crime.
He had to stew in what he did.
SHWOOOOOOOO
John looked up into the sky.
Flying above him was a bush plane. It had a camo pattern and was swooping down towards the ground.
"YO! YO! IT'S JOE STONE! THE MAN WITH UNBREAKABLE BONES! THE MAN WHO EATS CELLPHOOOOONES! THE MAN WHO HAS A PLAN ABOUT HOW TO GET SOME NICE VANS! JOE STONE!"
Falling through the sky. With a boom box on his shoulder was a bearded man with a smile on his face.
At his side also falling through the sky with him was a woman with curly hair and an awkward smile on her face.
BANG!
They slammed into the ground with a bellowing bang.
A crater was made under them. But they took the fall like it was almost nothing.
"OKAY! WHO'S READY TO FACE THE STONE MAN!" The man screamed.
His head turned in John's direction.
John didn't see him move but the next thing he knew he was standing right in front of John.
He had an almost sardonic smile on his face.
"Hi."
John simply squinted at him.
He looks familiar.
"Did we go to college together?"
John's face paled.
In collage. John used to be part of a fight club. We will go no further than that.
"Ummmmm. Yeah. I think I remember you."
He smiled.
"Yeah! I remember this one time you socked me in the face so hard that my tooth broke and pierced the roof of my mouth."
He winced.
"That was super uncomfortable to remove."
John could help but feel a lingering sense of astonishment at this situation. No one expects to meet up with old friends in the apocalypse. And absolutely no one expects their old friends to become something as illustrious as a warrior.
Unless they thought their friends were suicidal of course. The warrior training program did have a sixty percent death rate. So it wouldn't be a bad way to kill yourself.
"So you're a warrior now?" John asked him.
"Yeah."
"Didn't you go to school for marketing? How could you go from that to becoming a warrior?"
"Well, warrior is just a very marketable career I guess," Joe said with a shrug.
"U. Um Joe."
Joe's head turned in the direction of the woman behind him. She was shily curling her hair in her hands.
"Yes, honey?" He asked her.
"I think he's the guy we're supposed to fight. He killed a sergeant. So he's basically on death row. Also, he has dragons on him. He's clearly colluding with the trolls."
Joe rolled his eyes.
"But I went to college with him."
John could only watch on in abject confusion as this conversation played out.
"Yes. But. Joe.... It's an order."
Joe sighed. He turned and looked John in the eyes.
Joe's eyes were shining with tears and he had a deep frown on his face.
"Sorry buddy."
John couldn't see any movement. One moment he was sitting there atop the car with not too many issues. The next his ribcage was collapsing in and he was flying backwards.
Shit.
The small dragons that John still hadn't given a name flew off John as he started to tumble on the ground. Scratches and bruises started to appear all over him.
By the time he had ended his tumble, he was covered in wounds.
But he was still breathing. He breathed with the shallow wheeze of a man at death's door.
Shit.
In another instant, Joe was above John.
He had a surprised smile on his face.
"HOT DAMN JOHN! You've still got it. You just got hit by a punch at Mach one and yet you're still standing."
Suddenly the woman with curly hair appeared behind John in the next instant.
"You know. If he is that strong, he could probably do the service program." She said.
John didn't have a clue what she was talking about
Joe smiled.
"Yeah. He probably could." Joe said.
A green dragon quietly fluttered onto John's chest. It blew a healing green fire on him.
Joe looked at the dragon with sharp eyes for a moment. Before his eyes softened.
Joe squatted down and began to stroke the dragon's back.
From a distance two blue and red dragons watched with cautious eyes.
"Do you want to do the service program, John? Or do you want to die?" Said Joe.
Ummmm. NO thank you I choose death. WHAT KIND OF PERSON WOULD SAY THAT!
"Ser. SERVICES PROGRAM!" Screamed John
Joe smiled.
"Great."
After a few minutes, the green dragon had healed John enough that he could stand easily.
John pulled himself to his feet. The three dragons slowly stalked back towards John. They cautiously curled up against his side as John finally managed to sit up.
I really need to figure out a name for these guys. John thought to himself
"Okay. I'm going to go get these soldiers to take you to the training camp. It'll be interesting to see if you pass the test." Said Joe.
John nodded.
The test?
40% of warriors died in the first week.
That doesn't sound good.