1. First Night Out
Staying Human
The swamp already felt like a memory.
We’d driven most of the day, pushing north while staying smart. Burnt-out cars, bodies, and debris turned every mile into an obstacle course. By late afternoon we found what we needed: an old highway rest stop with decent sight lines in every direction. Not perfect, but it would do for the night.
I had us pull the vehicles into a tight defensive triangle — the 4Runner on one point, Tom’s F-150 on another, with cargo and scavenged barriers filling the gaps. Old habits died hard.
Tom and Raych scouted the building while I got set up. When they returned, Raych was grinning. “The restrooms still have running water. We can finally get the swamp off us.”
“Good,” I said. “But two at a time. One washes, one stands guard. Camp stays protected.”
She gave me that half-amused, half-exasperated look. “Yes, Sergeant.”
Even that small scrap of normalcy felt important. No power, of course, but clean water flowing from the taps was a luxury we hadn’t had in weeks. We took turns while the others kept watch.
The parking lot told its own grim story — burnt-out cars, spent shell casings scattered across the pavement, dark stains long dried into the concrete. In the distance, several columns of smoke rose against the evening sky, silent proof that the world was still tearing itself apart.
As dusk settled, we set up the green Coleman stove and made a real hot meal. Nothing fancy, just rice, and the last of the canned chicken. But it was hot and it was ours. I even ground just enough beans for a proper pot of coffee. The percolator hissed like an old friend as we sat together inside the triangle.
Mikey looked around at our little fortified camp, eyes bright despite the exhaustion. “This feels like a real quest now,” he said suddenly. “Like in the stories. We left the safe place, we’ve got a mission… we’re going to find the magic computer and save everybody.”
Tom chuckled softly. Sarah reached over and ruffled Mikey’s hair.
I nodded, smiling despite myself. “Something like that, kid.”
Raych gave me a small smile. “You’ve been thinking about why they built that data center, haven’t you?”
I nodded. “A hardened military AI facility in the middle of nowhere? That wasn’t built for peacetime. Someone knew something was coming.”
Sarah looked at Mikey, then back at me. “As long as it has food and walls, I don’t care why it was built.”
We finished the meal in comfortable silence, holding onto our rituals. Hot food. Good coffee. People watching each other’s backs.
Later, as the others settled into their sleeping bags inside the triangle, I took first watch. I sat on the hood of the 4Runner with my AR across my lap and a mug of coffee going cold beside me. The distant smoke plumes glowed faintly orange against the night sky.
The swamp had kept us safe for a while.
Now the road was calling… and whatever waited at the data center, we’d find out soon enough.
Bougie Apocalypse
A serialized military-flavored post-apocalyptic pulp story about heirloom beans, De Buyer carbon steel skull-crackers, good coffee, and refusing to let the apocalypse win.
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