character :: David Forde
When David went to spring break in Laguna Beach, unprompted and without warning, his mother was furious with him. “Too bad, mom! I’ll be back in a week.” He smiled into his cellphone as he waived away her worries. After all, it were only a few hours from home. He wasn’t alone, either, being himself and eight of his best highschool buddies, and this was Edgar’s senior year. David would be stuck in school two more years, and this last vacation before the talks of college and moving away were all he had to look forward to. This was high school, and nothing mattered more.
David was scared the last time he tried to call his mom just a few days later. The world had changed. His friends were missing. The televisions wouldn’t turn on. He cried as her voice crackled on the other end and then glittered off into oblivion – he’d never regret anything more. “I love you!” he cried out, but David will never know if his mother heard him.
And then he was alone. Just him and his baseball bat, a stupid thing he’d thought to bring along from practice. As it turned out, it became the most useful thing he’d packed, even though Edgar gave him hell for it. Swinging and cussing, the boy walked hopelessly north, unsure of where to go but hoping Los Angeles were big enough to hold some evacuation centers. Besides, it’d be a good half-way point between Laguna Beach and his home in Santa Cruz – this were probably the only smart decision he’d ever made in his short life.
When he finally found himself in Los Angeles, he felt as if the whole world were dead and it came down to only him and his homeboy the beatin’ stick. Late one evening, his most current hiding spot got smoked out by a bunch of zombies: and, in the stairwell, on the way down the steps two at a bound, David found himself surely dead. He lay on the landing, one leg broken, and only the jean material of his jacket and his beatin’ stick protected him from the oncoming hoard. Swing after swing he took, until the light from the window became blocked by the pile of bodies.
just get lucky
Shots ringing out down the hallway, followed by a shout of “Anyone alive in here?” got David’s attention. Somehow, some way, and by some stupid luck: an old man piled him on his shoulders and carried him away from the pit of blood he’d been soaking in. In this way, he found his new home: The Colony! After about three months, his leg was ugly but healed; and with a concerned tone, that girl that runs things told him he could be the last member of the Omega team. David wasn’t sure what this meant, but he did know what he could do now: survivor runs! David put his name on the signup sheet for the next outing, and, sure enough, he went out on the first convoy out of The Colony to round up sad suckers like himself.
Excitement bubbled up in David in a way it didn’t for others anymore. He walked the street ahead of his team, bat in hand, and his first “find” turned out to be his best: without a warning, he pounced on a man who had been walking carefully down the street, expecting to explain things to him as soon as it got quiet. But the man put up a fight – a damn good one, too - and with a chipped tooth, David sat next to a bundle of squirming ropes and carpet as he tried to calm him down in the van on the way home. “Him”, the man who had done his best to bust David’s beautiful face, turned out to be Samuel. Too bad he has the hots for that girl, too…he could be pretty cute once you get past those weird eyes of his. Not that he’ll ever know, of course, that David is settling to be just his friend. Best friend, actually, please and thank you!
