Free Vending Machine Lunch by Roadbloc

GETTING
CLOSER, STEER LEFT, STEER RIGHT, I HOPE YOU HAVE SOME CLEAN PANTS
ON TODAY BOY, STEER RIGHT, NO LEFT, NO RIGHT, NOW SWERVE LEFT, TURN
YA HEADLIGHTS OFF THEY’RE GONNA SEE US YOU FOOL, YOU DON’T WANT TO
FEEL THE WRATH OF THE REQUIEM DO YA, LET ME GET MY WEAPON AND BAG,
AVOID THAT BUILDING, AVOID IT YOU – AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”
     
    The requiem
owned the night. Always did. Probably always had done. All Jink
could remember was the blackness of the world, the growling of the
sky. Once in a while, Jink would spy a glimpse of light amongst the
roaring blackness of the sky. Jad would either claim it to be
something called the Sun or the Moon. Jink assumed they were the
same thing.
    Jad would
always reminisce about a time he called ‘before Deimosgate.’ He
said that the event he called ‘Deimosgate’ was the sole reason for
the Requiem walking the land. He would go on about a time when many
more people lived on the land, mostly in peace with one another.
There was no Requiem, people worked together with one another, food
was exchanged for earned currency instead of stolen or salvaged
from the Requiem and the land had a section of brightness that they
simply called the ‘daytime’.
    Jink would
listen to Jad’s many many stories of a time ‘before Deimosgate’,
how the land was at war with a place called Union, how the father
began to mess things up, how people took to the streets in protest.
Now they were nothing but survivors. Scavengers in the eye of the
storm, waiting to be killed by the devil’s own Requiem at any
moment. At a time of day that Jad would call ‘night’ or ‘to-night’
they would climb into the car and catch Requiem. Most of the time
Jad would drive, however, on occasions, Jink would get a go behind
the wheel.
    What Jink saw
of the land whenever it was time to go scavenging and now, hunting
was nothing like Jad had described it to be ‘before Deimosgate.’
Jad had described a bright, beautiful land, buildings filled to the
brim with people, masses of smoke being spat out of large
industrial pipes, that rose dispersed into the orangey sky. The
beauty of people socialising, being friends, being something more
than friends, being so important to one another and yet still lost
in a crowd. Everyone was unknowingly dependant on one another and
wrapped up on their own self-obsessed bubble.
    Now, there was
no orange sky. The sky roared with fury. Black and ugly, the clouds
competing with one another, constantly twisting and turning and
roaring amongst one another, rarely letting a single glimpse of
light bless the land’s surface. There were no people either, those
who were survivors of Deimosgate, like himself [Jink] and Jad, were
rarely seen and rivalled each other since food was scarce and
danger was often imminent. Well, food was scarce unless you
developed a taste for the Requiem. That however, is a different
paragraph.
    It was out of
sheer luck that Jink and Jad were allied together; most survivors
were alone in the land, many of them going insane from the immense
loneliness that the land offered. Despite the loneliness of most
Deimosgate survivors, a vine tree existed, spreading occasional
whims of rumours whenever encounters between survivors took place.
Most of them included tales about finding a way to escape to Union,
or a place where food was plentiful and Requiem were little. Jad
would often disregard them as, “utter slanderous nonsense,” stating
that the tales didn’t tell themselves and that it was probably
originally a trap for a poor survivor to fall into.
    Jink would also
share the same feelings, even without Jad’s ever-important input.
He owed his life to Jad. Jad had been his mentor all his life,
taking care of him since he was found as an abandoned baby whilst
the Deimosgate disaster unfolded. Jad was effectively Jink’s
father, and was the one who gave him his name, his knowledge of the
land ‘before Deimosgate’ and his expertise in how to survive a