The Last Twenty Four

by Jeff Baker

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This one was written when I realized my initial idea for a story would be too long and I could try to send it to an anthology or magazine! The story here is one I’d been diddling around with in my head after seeing videos of people who really do this! —-jeff

11:15 PM

It was dark and the four High Schoolers in jogging shorts and running shoes ran under the streetlights towards the center of town.

“Okay,” the first kid said holding up his phone. “It’s eleven-fifteen and this is hour number three in our yearly marathon. Twenty four miles in twenty-four hours. One mile…an hour.”

He panted, he was getting winded.

“Hey, Skeeter,” Horacio said from a few paces behind him. “Our phones don’t work anymore. What’re you doing?”

“’Net is down but this thing still records and tells the time. Recording this for posterity,” Skeeter panted. “I’ll put it on my laptop later.” Skeeter was glad he had a cable that could do that.

“Yeah, we could show it to our grandkids someday,” Jamie said. “If we have ‘em.”

Someone else laughed and they ran on.

1:21 AM

“One twenty-one, hour five,” Skeeter said as they ran past several shopfronts. “Goin’ through town. Couple of shops boarded-up. Amazed…we still have…power…”

“Yeah, and groceries. At least so far.” Keith panted.

“Probably gonna run out of that real soon,” Jamie said. “Hey, did you see that cart in front of the store the other day with free bags of ice?”

“And that sign saying Free Ice.” Skeeter said. “Yeah, I got a picture of it.”

3:40 AM

Skeeter was sitting on the front porch of Jamie’s folks’ house and speaking into his cellphone.

“Okay, we are back at home base, just chillin’. I’m guessing that about hour seven we may start taking naps.” Skeeter looked up. Horacio was snoring in a lawn chair on the porch. Skeeter smiled.

Jamie sat down on the steps by Skeeter and offered him a soda.

“One of the last,” Jamie said.

“Yeah,” Skeeter said. “I wonder why we’re doing this. I mean, New York is gone, L.A. gone. We aren’t too far from the big city and the air base. Eight miles due south. We could be next.”

“That’s why we’re doing this.” Jamie said. “To try and keep normal going.” He sipped his pop. “The Pharmacy closed. Anybody surviving with their meds is just out of luck. We’re probably going to starve soon.”

“We become hunter-gatherers again,” Skeeter said. “Hey, the pop’s cold.”

“Fridge still works but this is in a cooler with some of that free ice.”

The two of them clinked their cans together and grinned.

7:24 AM

“Okay, seven twenty-four. Got a late start for hour…what?” Skeeter said.

“Hour ten,” Horacio said with a laugh.

“Yeah, ten,” Skeeter said. “Sun’s been up about an hour and everything looks beautiful.”

They ran on, seeing a couple of the stores had people in them. Probably not looters.

9:05 AM

“Nine-Oh-Five!” Skeeter shouted. “Halfway there!” They all cheered. They had been napping between miles. Their legs hurt.

11:40 AM

Skeeter felt someone shaking him awake on the couch.

Keith was standing there.

“I didn’t tell anybody but…” he looked away for a second then looked back. “My Mom’s gone, Skeet.”

“Gone?” Skeeter said wiping the sleep from his eyes. Then it hit him. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“Her pills ran out last week,” Keith said. “She had some kind of an attack Tuesday night and another one yesterday morning. I got the neighbors but there’s no doctor around…”

Keith’s Dad had run out on the family when he was in Junior High. Keith started to cry quietly.

Skeeter sat up, held his friend and let him sob.

2:30 PM

“Two-thirty…” Skeeter panted. “I’m tired…but we’re doin’ this.”

“Yeah, we’re doin’ this!” Jamie said.

They ran on.

8:38 PM

“Okay, it’s eight thirty-eight,” Skeeter said. “And we are winding down hour twenty-three.”

“Yeah, twenty-three.” Horacio said.

“For the record, I am with Horacio Villapando, Jamie Sanderson, Keith Rogers and I’m Skeeter McCabe. And we are gonna do this again next year.”

There was a chorus of “Right” and “Yeah,” from the runners.

8:59 PM

“Okay, starting up hour twenty-four,” Skeeter said.

“Finally!” Keith said.

“We’re starting at my house,” Skeeter said, angling his phone so it could get a picture of the four of them. “At least, we’re in front of my house. I just loaded what I’ve been recording onto my laptop.” Skeeter looked around. “Ready?”

There was a noise.

North, over the houses there was a slowly building ball of orange, like a malignant, awful sun.

Horacio squeezed Keith and Skeeter’s arms. “You’re my brothers, I love you,” he choked out.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, as the ball swelled.

“What do we do?” Keith asked.

“We RUN!” Skeeter yelled, taking off in the direction of the same route they had been running for the past twenty-four hours. The other three followed him.

Was it moments? Skeeter saw the orange light illuminating them and the neighborhood. He felt the wind, hot, heard the roar, felt cool not warm, felt something slam into him…

And in his mind, he was running on top of the light, towards the sky, towards the stars…

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here’s a link to the You Tube video of these guys and their yearly 24 miles in 24 hours marathon. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MB-P2hya1lE