by Clayton Smith
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Three years have passed since the Jamaicans caused the apocalypse, and things in post-Armageddon Chicago have settled into a new kind of normal. Unfortunately, that "normal" includes collapsing skyscrapers, bands of bloodthirsty maniacs, and a dwindling cache of survival supplies. After watching his family, friends, and most of the non-sadistic elements of society crumble around him, Patrick decides it's time to cross one last item off his bucket list.
He’s going to Disney World.
This hilarious, heartfelt, gut-wrenching odyssey through post-apocalyptic America is a pilgrimage peppered with peril, as fellow survivors Patrick and Ben encounter a slew of odd characters, from zombie politicians and deranged survivalists to a milky-eyed oracle who doesn't have a lot of good news. Plus, it looks like Patrick may be hiding the real reason for their mission to the Magic Kingdom...
Patrick sat down on the freezing asphalt. He picked at the bandage around his hand. After three years, he could still recall the entire conversation he'd had with Annie that last day on the phone, every single word of it. He also remembered the words that had gone unsaid. Where are you? Why aren't you here? Why didn't you protect me? And he remembered that he didn't have an answer. Not then, and not now. “Benny, my boy,” he said quietly. "Look. All joking aside. You're right. I'm still living like it's five years ago and bad decisions are fun because no matter what sort of trouble you get into, there's always a doctor, or a lawyer, or a policeman, or a wife to get you back out of it. But that's not the world we live in." Ben snorted. Patrick continued. "I don't know how to deal with this. With any of this. I don't know how to do this, to live this life, without them. I'm flying blind, here, and I'm mucking it all up. I'm just…I'm sorry. I am really sorry. It's a serious thing that you got hurt, and a serious thing that I got hurt, and a serious thing that we've lost our supplies. But I want you to know that as soon as we get you back on your feet and not possibly dying of blood loss in a gutter, we're going to find the evil leprechaun who did this, and we're going to get our shit back. Because he has our weapons, and our food, and our bandages. And he has the pudding. You know the trip is pretty much for nothing without the pudding."
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Clayton Smith is a sometimes-writer, sometimes-napper based in Chicago, where he uses neither his bachelor’s in journalism nor his master’s in arts management. He is often calamitous, and good at bacon. He lives with his impressively tolerant wife.
Clayton’s previous works include Pants on Fire: A Collection of Lies and the comedic play Death and McCootie, which debuted at the 2013 New York International Fringe Festival.