WHY THE WORLD'S LAST HOPE IS A CAN OF PEACHES

Chapter 3: The Board Game Battalion

"Wrong answer," Dorian growled, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Roderic squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable spray of his own thoughts across the pavement. He wondered, in that final, terrifying second, if heaven had an organized pantry system.

Click.

The sound was hollow, metallic, and decidedly non-lethal. Roderic opened one eye. Dorian was grinning, showing off a row of teeth that looked like they’d been sharpened with a rust-covered file.

"You should see your face, kid," Dorian chuckled, lowering the shotgun. "Empty chamber. I like to see if a man’s soul leaks out when he thinks he’s meeting the Reaper. You didn't cry. That’s a plus."

"I... I didn't cry because my tear ducts are currently paralyzed by sheer, unadulterated terror," Roderic gasped, clutching his chest. "You’re a psychopath. A literal, textbook psychopath."

"Welcome to the neighborhood," Dorian said, gesturing for them to follow him toward the hotel. "Kaia, I’m assuming the civilian isn't just here for his sparkling personality. He smells like a grocery store."

"He’s my lucky charm, Dorian," Kaia said, stepping over a pile of rubble and patting Roderic on the shoulder. "And he’s the only reason I’m not currently a puddle in the bottom of a Stalker’s stomach. Move it, Peach-Man. Your fans are waiting."

"I don't have fans," Roderic muttered, stumbling after them. "I have a mortgage on a house that no longer has a roof and a very strong desire to be anywhere that doesn't involve empty shotguns."

Dorian led them through the shattered lobby of the luxury hotel, where the gold leaf was peeling off the columns like dead skin. They bypassed the grand staircase and headed toward a heavy, reinforced steel door behind the reception desk. With a series of rhythmic knocks and a grunt, Dorian shoved the door open, revealing a flight of concrete stairs leading down into the bowels of the building.

The air changed as they descended. It grew warmer, humming with the low-frequency thrum of a struggling generator and the smell of ozone, hot solder, and burnt toast.

"Is that... bread?" Roderic asked, his nose twitching. "Is someone actually toasting bread in the middle of the apocalypse?"

"Not bread," Kaia said, her eyes lighting up as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "That’s the smell of progress."

They emerged into a sprawling basement that had been converted into a high-tech workshop. Cables snaked across the floor like neon vines, and workbenches were piled high with scavenged circuitry, glowing tubes, and half-assembled drones. In the center of the chaos, a man with goggles perched atop a wild mane of sandy hair was hunched over a chrome appliance, poking it with a smoking soldering iron.

"Come on, you beautiful piece of junk," the man whispered. "Give me that golden-brown crunch. Don't be a coward."

"Marius!" Kaia called out, her voice echoing off the concrete walls.

The man jumped, his goggles slipping down over his eyes. He spun around, waving the soldering iron like a wand. "Kaia? Is that you? Or am I finally having a stroke from the fumes?"

"It’s me, you idiot," Kaia laughed, stepping into the light. "Put the iron down before you burn the bunker down. Again."

"It was one time! And technically, that fire provided a lot of heat for the winter," Marius said, pushing his goggles up and grinning. He was younger than Dorian, with an energetic, restless air about him. He looked at Roderic and blinked. "Oh. Who’s the guy who looks like he’s about to faint? Is he a donor? I need a fresh pair of kidneys for a project."

"He’s not a donor," Roderic snapped, finding his voice. "He’s a person. A person who is very tired of being threatened with various forms of bodily harm."

"Marius, meet Roderic Ashborne," Kaia introduced. "Roderic, this is Marius Fallout. He’s the best tinkerer in the sector, even if his social skills are about as functional as that toaster."

"The toaster is a masterpiece!" Marius protested, gesturing to the appliance. "I’ve rigged it to run on a hydrogen cell. It could toast a bagel in the middle of a vacuum. Anyway, what brings the legendary Kaia Everlast to my humble hole in the ground?"

"We need the Pulse-Link, Marius," Kaia said, her playfulness vanishing. "The Stalkers are closing in on the sector, and the Wall isn't going to hold another week. I’ve got the codes, but we need to get to the relay station in the Old Tech district."

Marius whistled low, leaning back against his workbench. "The relay station? You mean the one sitting right in the middle of the 'No-Go Zone'? Dorian’s boys have been trying to crack that place for months. It’s crawling with Scav-drones."

"That’s why we need to bypass the main gate," Kaia said, leaning over a map spread across a table. "Dorian says you’ve been scouting the service tunnels."

"I have," Marius said, his expression turning serious. "But those tunnels are a death trap. They’re flooded with caustic runoff and guarded by automated turrets that don't care if you have the codes or not. To get through, you’d need someone who can move fast and someone who can... well, someone who’s incredibly lucky."

Kaia smirked, jerking a thumb at Roderic. "See? I told you. He’s the lucky charm."

"I am not a lucky charm!" Roderic protested, throwing his hands up. "I’m a guy who survived by staying in a basement and not talking to anyone! That’s not luck, that’s basic antisocial behavior!"

"Same difference," Marius shrugged. "Look, if you want to bypass the gate, you’re going to have to go through the Sub-Level Four vents. It’s tight, it’s dirty, and if the pressure seals blow, you’ll be flattened into a pancake."

"I hate pancakes," Roderic groaned. "Can’t we just... I don't know, knock? Or maybe find a different relay station? One that isn't in a 'No-Go Zone'?"

"There isn't another one, Roderic," Kaia said, her voice softening slightly. "If we don't get that signal out, the havens won't know there are still survivors here. They’ll just glass the whole sector to stop the infection from spreading. Your basement, your peaches, all of it—gone."

Roderic looked at the floor, his mind racing. He thought about his neatly labeled cans, the quiet hum of his apartment, and the way the dust motes danced in the sunlight before Kaia had come crashing through his life. It was all a fantasy now. There was no going back.

"Fine," Roderic whispered. "But if I die in a vent, I’m going to haunt you, Kaia. I’m going to move your tactical gear slightly to the left every night so you can never find anything."

"That’s the spirit!" Marius chirped. "Now, let’s talk logistics. I’ve got a couple of EMP rigs that might—"

BOOM.

The bunker shook violently. Dust rained down from the ceiling, coating Marius’s workbenches in a fine white powder. The lights flickered, turned red, and then stabilized.

"What was that?" Dorian barked, his hand already on the grip of his shotgun as he moved toward the stairs. "That wasn't a Stalker. That was ordnance."

A door at the far end of the workshop burst open. A young man, barely out of his teens and wearing a tattered scout’s vest, tumbled into the room. He was covered in soot, his eyes wide with terror.

"Marius! Dorian!" the boy screamed, gasping for air.

"Kellan? What happened?" Marius asked, rushing over to help him up.

"They found us!" Kellan yelled, his voice cracking. "They didn't even hit the perimeter! They just... they appeared!"

"Who?" Kaia demanded, her pistol drawn in a heartbeat. "Stalkers?"

"No," Kellan wheezed, pointing toward the ceiling. "The Deadzone Pigeons! They’re on the roof! They’re melting through the vents!"

Roderic’s heart plummeted. "Deadzone Pigeons? That sounds... surprisingly cute for something that makes you look that terrified."

"They aren't birds, you idiot!" Kaia hissed, grabbing Roderic by the collar and dragging him toward the back exit. "They’re high-altitude suicide drones with biological payloads! If one of them pops near you, your lungs turn into liquid!"

"I change my mind!" Roderic shouted as another explosion rocked the room. "I want the Stalkers back! The Stalkers were much more straightforward!"

"No time for a refund!" Marius yelled, grabbing a heavy bag of tools and a weird-looking rifle from his bench. "Everyone into the service tunnel! Now!"

"Kellan, get the others to the secondary bunker!" Dorian commanded, standing by the stairs with his shotgun leveled. "I’ll hold them off at the lobby! Go!"

As Dorian sprinted up the stairs toward the sounds of screaming and mechanical screeching, Kaia shoved Roderic toward a dark, narrow opening in the wall behind Marius’s workbench.

"Into the hole, Peach-Man!" Kaia commanded.

"It’s too small!" Roderic cried, looking at the dark, cramped vent. "I’m claustrophobic! And I have a backpack full of fruit!"

"Then use the syrup as grease!" Kaia yelled, shoving him headfirst into the darkness. "The Pigeons are coming, Roderic! Move your ass or we’re all dead!"

Roderic scrambled into the vent, the smell of damp metal and fear filling his senses. Behind him, he could hear the sound of something high-pitched and metallic whistling down the hallways of the bunker.

"I hate the future," Roderic sobbed, crawling as fast as his hands would take him. "I really, really hate the future!"