Chet & Floyd vs. The Apocalypse: Volume 1 (16 page)

Chapter 38

There were about ten people sitting atop the platform.
Each volunteered as a candidate for the leadership of their colony. Today they would address the crowd then tomorrow came the vote.

Chet was looking over his notes nervously while Floyd kicked his heels back and forth over the edge of the platform.

“Chet?” Floyd said.

Chet jumped out of his chair and fired off a whole clip of his Uzi in a wild spray.
Floyd fell awkwardly off the platform and rolled under the edge as bullets sprayed all around him. The other men ran off the podium from all sides, running for their lives. Chet kept the trigger pulled until the clip was completely empty.

“What the hell Chet!”
Floyd yelled from under the platform.

“What the hell indeed
,” Chet said. “You scared me to death.”

“Scared you to death?
You almost killed me to death. Put down that Uzi.”

“I will not!”
Chet said.

“You will
, or I’m not coming out from under here, and you’ll have to deal with these people by yourself. You will have no wingman. You know how you need a wingman,” Floyd said. He didn’t know why this was so effective, but he could usually get Chet to drop whatever weapon he was holding if he threatened to not be his wingman.

He waited a moment then heard the Uzi
clatter on the wood planks of the stage.

“It’s down
,” Chet said. “I didn’t mean to shoot at you Floyd. I’m just a little high strung about this whole election thing.”

Floyd peeked out from under the platform.
Seeing that things were okay, he pulled himself back up. The wood was heavily splintered from the bullet holes, and he took a couple wooden lances in the palm getting back onto the stage. Frowning, Floyd pulled them out.

“I’ve never known you to be afraid of giving a speech
,” Floyd said.

“It’s not the speech.
It’s the content. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know my audience. I don’t know what the issues are. We’ve only just got here. I don’t want to look stupid or reckless,” Chet said.

The Uzi barked from its place on the planks.
A bullet nicked the tip of Floyd’s shoe. He fell backwards off the stage and rolled once again under the safety of the boards.

“I hate that cheap ass gun!”
Floyd said. “That thing is going to kill us both. Nobody carries those things anymore. You are so 80’s Chet.”

“I didn’t think there were any more bullets in it
,” Chet said, picking up the Uzi. He shook it and looked down the chamber. He turned it away from his face and slapped it on the side. It fired again.

Chet whooped.
“She’s got a mind of her own.”

“Put the safety on
,” Floyd said.

“I don’t need the safety.
I’ve shot lots of guns. I know what I’m doing.”

“I
’ll give you two choices,” Floyd said. “Put the safety on or destroy the gun.” Chet grudgingly clicked on the safety.

“The Uzi is un-oozed.
You can come out of your hiding place now you worrywart.”

“Pull out the clip
,” Floyd said.

Chet shrugged and dropped the clip to the planks.
He waved the gun at the sound of Floyd’s voice and it fired again. Chet was pleased.

“This is a magic gun!”
he exclaimed. “I can shoot with impunity. I am like the action hero that never has to reload. I am the Uzi king. I can do anything…no wait. It’s really empty this time.”

Floyd rolled back up on stage, walked over the Chet and took the gun out of his hand.

“This is my Uzi now,” Floyd said.

“Probably for the best
,” Chet said. “I’m feeling better about things. No more fear in here,” Chet tapped his head. “Thanks for all the help and support talking over my speech with me Floyd. I’m going to knock this one out of the park.”

“Whatever Chet.
Let’s go eat something. I’m starving.”

“What are we going to have?”
Chet said.

“What are you talking about?
We’re going to have some of that canned food we hustled.”

“We don’t have that anymore
,” Chet said.

“Where is it?”
Floyd asked. His tone was flat and dangerous.

“I ate it
,” Chet said.

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“That was like a week
’s worth of food all rationed out,” Floyd yelled. “Why did you go and eat it all?”

“I needed to carb up for my speech
,” Chet said.

“I’m going to kill you Chet.”

“I was running low on gluten. I need to get some fast fuel.” Chet thumped his stomach, which Floyd noticed was rounded like a little drum against the wiry muscle and skeletal flesh of the rest of his body. Floyd thought about pummeling him and making him throw up the food, but it would be no use. The food was gone. He decided on a different act of revenge.

“Nice belly Chet.
You’re really letting yourself go,” Floyd said.

“Nice try Floyd.
You can’t hurt my feelings,” Chet said.

Floyd walked away.
Chet put his hand on his belly. He looked around to see if anyone was looking. When he saw he was alone he walked behind the platform, jammed his fingers down his throat and threw up.

Chapter 39

Chet walked over to the rough podium.
His hands shook as he took his notes out from his jeans pocket. “We have heard a lot of speeches today by those who would rule you. Those who would be your leader in a dictoral way. I am not that dick. I will not be a leader who tells you what to do. I couldn’t care less what you do. And you know I mean that statement in a way that I care much about what you do.” Chet gave the confused looking audience a moment to grasp the meaning of his last sentence.

“
You don’t need a leader who will judge you and your decisions. You’ve survived the apocalypse, and I think that makes you a fairly good decision maker. The ones that didn’t survive are the losers. They should have listened to you. I will listen to you.” Chet paused. He had the people’s attention now.

“What the hell are you talking about?”
Floyd whispered

“I don’t know
, but it’s working so be quiet,” Chet said. He turned his attention back to the people.

“Do you want someone to tell you what to do all the time?
Do you want a big stern father figure for a leader? A leader that will tear you a new one if you cross him? Do you want an overly hovering mother who will kiss all your boo boos and treat you like a baby? Of course you don’t! You want a friend.

“
I will be your friend. I will be your wingman. You don’t know how to swim? I will not get in your way of learning. I will be the leader who pushes you into the water and walks away. The rest is up to you. My reign—and I mean ‘reign’ in the most democratic way possible—will not be one of torture or indulgence. I promise you.

“
You will hardly know I’m even there. You’ll walk into my office and wonder, ‘Where is Chet? Is he even here? Is he on vacation?’ The answer will probably be yes. Even if it isn’t, and I am hard at work, you may not even notice the work that’s being done.” This brought on a few confused cheers from the crowd.

Chet shot his hands in the air
, accidentally tossing his notes into the audience. A look of worry flashed over Chet’s face.

He leaned over to Floyd.
“What do I do? My notes!”

“Just wing it and hurry up.
I want to get the heck off this stage,” Floyd said.

“What do I say?”

“Speak from the heart,” Floyd said. “Let the words flow. Just put a cork in it after a couple minutes.” Chet nodded.

Chet turned back to his audience.
“I will leave you with one final thought, then I promise my speech will be over,” he said to the crowd. “You may be torn over whom to vote for tomorrow. I don’t know. I can’t read your minds. What I do know is that there is a high cost of surviving in these end times. I am willing to pay that cost. I will spend like a freak. Once I paid three hundred dollars for a simple gallon of milk.

“
Let me tell you a little story. I signed up for a credit card once. I wanted the free shirt they were offering. Upon getting my card I went to my local grocery store and bought a gallon of skim milk with it. I then threw away the card and ripped up all of my statements. A couple years and a few moves later I got a phone call from a collector who had been trying to track me down for some time. He reminded me of my debts and how they must be paid. Years of interest and late penalties on my card came out to a staggering number, but we settled on three hundred and called it a day.

“
That is the type of leader you will get in me. You will be my skim milk. You may be only worth three bucks and will expire soon, but I would pay three hundred for you without batting an eye. Be my costly milk!” Chet slammed his fist down on the podium. There were a few claps, but mostly people just gave him weird looks.

Chet smiled and slapped Floyd on the back.
“You’re up Floydlander. Good luck.”

Floyd stepped up to the podium.
“I don’t know why you guys picked me,” Floyd said. “I don’t even want to be up here. Vote for someone else.” Floyd walked away from the podium to a smattering of applause.

Chapter 40

Floyd was entertaining a lady friend in the front room of his house when Chet slammed through the front door. The door swung inwards with such force the doorknob jammed itself into the wall, pinning the door in place. Floyd, who was used to these types of entrances, didn’t flinch. His date, however, screamed and fell backwards.

“I’m going to kill you Floyd
,” Chet yelled, throwing a wadded up piece of paper at Floyd’s head. It bounced off and thumped onto the floor.

Floyd’s date, a small blonde woman with
the pinched face of a mole, rose to her feet and fired off a shotgun round at the door. Chet ducked under the bullet’s spray and cursed.

Floyd ripped the gun out of her hands and shoved her
somewhat firmly into an easy chair.

“He’s not really going to kill me
,” Floyd said to the scared woman. She was breathing rapidly from the shock of it all. “That’s Chet. He’s not much for social graces.”

“
I’m
not one for social graces?” Chet said from the floor. “Who rolled out the welcome mat by trying to fill me full of bullets? What kind of place is this anyway? I am a
guest
here.”

“You came in here yelling murder.
What was I supposed to think?” the woman said.

“You could have at least tried to reason with me first
,” Chet said.

“That’s how I reason with people
,” the woman said.

Chet instantly
fell in love with her, but he just as instantly kept this to himself. He would never try to take a woman from his friend. It was the guy code. Chet never broke the guy code.

“You and Chet should get along with each other famously
,” Floyd said. “This is Sue.”

“Like the Johnny Cash song
,” Chet said.

“Not exactly
,” Floyd said. Sue took her shotgun back from Floyd and smoothed out her clothes.

“Nice to meet you
, I think,” Sue said. “Floyd has told me much about you.”

“That’s just great, but enough small talk.
Floyd, I’m going to kill you!” Chet said, then, looking warily at Sue, quickly rambled out, “In the most figurative way speaking so as not to have someone try and shoot me.”

“What’s going on?”
Floyd asked.

“This is going on!”
Chet scrambled for the wadded up paper on the floor and unwrinkled it for Floyd to see.

The polling results were in.
Chet lost. Some guy named Zukov had easily won the whole thing.

“So we lost
,” Floyd said. “It’s not as if we have it so bad here. We each have a nice place to live. At least I think you do. You spend so much of your time over here. We do a little work. We have food to eat and are relatively safe. What’s the big deal?” Chet sighed and slumped onto the room’s couch.

“I am in mourning for a dream crushed.”
Chet said. “I have always wanted to be the leader of a great people. I used to see myself coming out of a window to stare out at my adoring multitudes. They would cheer and praise my name. I was on the doorstep of my dream, and it has been dashed before me like so much glass.”

“The end of what you said doesn’t make much sense, but I get the gist of what you’re saying
,” Floyd said. “Sorry about that buddy. Maybe next year.”

“They do this every year?”
Chet said.

“Elections
will occur annually to prevent the whole exploitation-of-power thing.” Floyd said.

“I thought it was a
lifetime deal,” Chet said. “I don’t know what they would expect me to accomplish in a year.”

“You didn’t win
,” Sue said. “You don’t have to accomplish anything.”

Chet ignored her.

“You took second Floyd,” Chet said.

Floyd picked up the paper with surprise.

“So I did,” Floyd said. He smiled as he perused the names and numbers written on the paper. “That’s kind of funny that I got more votes than you. I didn’t even want to win.”

“Stop wiping your butt with my dreams Floyd
,” Chet said. “If I didn’t win I would have wished you did.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” Floyd said.

“Yeah, I know you didn’t really want it so I could rule through you.
I could use you like a puppet. Shove my hand way up in there and make you dance to my every whim.”

“That’s just great Chet
,” Floyd said.

“Shove it way up there.”

“That’s quite enough,” Floyd said. “So you didn’t win. I feel pretty bad for you and want to be supportive and all, but I am entertaining a lady friend tonight. Can I catch up with you tomorrow?”

Chet didn’t move or respond.

“Chet, can I catch up with you tomorrow?”

“You’re talking to me? I thought you would kick her out. Bros first,” Chet said.

“Get out of here
,” Sue said, thumbing her shotgun.

Chet got up from the couch heavily and walked out the door.

Floyd called after him.
“Where are you going to go tonight?”

“I’m going to see Zukov and congratulate him on his win.
It’s the right thing to do,” Chet said. His voice trailed off as his footsteps pounded off the porch and onto the street.