42 Things to do When You're the Last Man on Earth
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When Larry got back onto the highway he spoke, “Listen, Buttermilk. We're heading to Miami and if I ask for directions I want them for Miami, not a police station - got it you stupid pair of sneakers?” Silence. Larry shook his head. “Buttermilk?” The shoes replied, “Yes?” "I'm not going to go to the police. The unicyclist was an accident. I'm not a killer.” "You are, Larry. The unicyclist wasn't your only victim.” "Who else did I kill?” There was an awkward silence and finally the sneakers spoke but their deep voice was strained as if the sneakers were choking back tears. “You killed my happiness.” Ignoring the absurdity of it all Larry replied, “Because I yelled at you?” "Yes.” He shook his head. He hadn't had a girlfriend in a while and even though he was lonely sometimes he remembered his relationships usually ended with conversations like these. “I'm sorry. Look, Buttermilk, it's just you and me now.” "You mean now that the unicyclist is dead?” Larry couldn't help but detect a hint of accusation in the tone of his footwear. Larry sighed deeply and decided the day was starting off worse than expected. In fact Larry was so busy being upset he completely ignored the fact that a man stood on the side of the road with his thumb sticking out. He continued to drive and his mind began to process the image and slowly the significance of the image came to him. It was a good thing there were no other cars on I-95 that morning because the interstate highway was not a good place to go from ninety miles per hour to zero by slamming on the brakes and skidding for a half a mile across the three lanes of road. His front bumper flew off and rolled another quarter of a mile on the highway. The sneakers screamed loudly, “HELP! THIS IS IT!! I'M GOING TO BE KILLED!!” "Quiet!” Larry looked over his shoulder but it was pointless. The crushed roof blocked his view. "There was a hitchhiker on the side of the road.” He turned the car around and drove back up the highway slowly. He reached the hitchhiker and stopped the car facing the wrong way in the center of the interstate. The hitchhiker was a stout young man with a duffel bag. He stood on the side of the road and they stared at each other for a while. Finally Larry said, “Hi.” Slowly, reluctantly, the man replied. “Hey.” "Perhaps you might want to take a ride with me. This is a great coincidence. In fact, it's probably destiny that the two last men meet.” The man thought about this. Then he sighed with resignation and nodded as if he was answering something in his mind and grabbed his duffel bag and called out, “Go Away!” Yet he walked toward Larry and his car. Larry didn't quite know what to do. The man did it again as he reached the car, “GO AWAY!” "Why?” "Why what?” Asked the man. Just then a large brown Chesapeake Bay retriever came from out of the bushes and sprinted over to the car. The man opened the door and the dog jumped in. Due the crushed roof there was no access to the rear seats so the dog settled in right next to Larry. The man climbed in and shut the door. "Why are you yelling at me to go away?” Suddenly the dog licked his face. "I wasn't yelling at you.” "You did. You yelled `Go Away'.” The dog licked his face again. "Oh, that. No, I was talking to the dog. He's not mine. He sorta started following me around about two days ago and I kept yelling at him to Go Away (the dog licked the other man's face). Then I decided I liked the dog. So now I figure he thinks that's his dog name.” Larry thought that was crazy but he reminded himself that he was not in a position to criticize since he had just been arguing with his sneakers. He turned the car around and began driving south again. They drove for a while then the man said, “You hear something?” "No.” But then Larry did hear it - A faint noise coming from the floorboard of his car. He strained his ears. It was his sneakers whispering as softly as possible, “Psst. Psst.” "What?” Snapped Larry. "Um…” said the sneakers. “Um… Not you… Um… Can I talk to your passenger please?” Larry turned to the man and not caring how crazy it sounded simply said, “My sneakers would like a word with you.” The man nodded without a second thought and leaned forward and turned his head. Larry could hear the sneakers whisper, “You're in grave danger. Get out now before it's too late.” "THAT'S IT!” Larry slammed on the brakes and the car skidded again. He put the car into park and he bent down and screamed, “Enough of your games Buttermilk!” He glanced back up thinking that this scene might look odd but the man and dog looked back at him with a polite curiosity. He rolled his eyes and looked back down. “The unicyclist was an accident. You're my sneakers now so shut up and do your job! Got it?” After a few seconds where Larry presumed the sneakers were thinking, they replied with a very bad imitation of a stereotype robot, “A-firm-ah-tive.” "Cut that out!” Larry looked back up. He started to drive. “I'm sorry you had to see that.” "No problem. I yell at my shoes all the time.” "Really? You have a pair of Trace Tillman Touchdowns? Are they also hyper-sensitive?” "No. They're just an old pair of tennis sneakers but really I enjoy yelling at them.” “I'm just as the factory made me,” said the sneakers. “Quiet!” Yelled Larry down to his feet.
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About the Book
42 Things to do When You’re the Last Man on Earth is NOT - we repeat NOT - a “how to” book. If you happen to find yourself alone on the planet and you are armed only with your wits and this novel you are in serious trouble. Though before you die a horrible death we hope you take time to read the swiftly moving science fiction comedy novel about a security guard who wakes up one morning to discover everyone else on the planet had left. Now he, his super advanced talking sneakers, and a couple of other stragglers must figure out how and why everyone else left while battling evil cows, insane civil servants, and other nasty surprises. This will most likely be the most powerful book you have ever read that features talking sneakers.
About the Author
Jackson M. Slade has written two previous novels. “Yeti” is an adventure tale about Soviet era soldiers fighting the abominable snowman and “The Pride of Terrace South” is about the lives of house cats. Clearly they are very similar works. “Last Man on Earth”, Slade’s third book, is a science fiction comedy and the third genre he has tackled. He hopes one day to get something right.