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.

42 Things to Do When You Are the Last Man on Earth

AuthorHouse

Contents

#1 – Go to work..........................................................................................1#2 – Rob a Bank..........................................................................................10#3 – Kill a Unicyclist...................................................................................18#4 – Pick up a Hitchhiker................................................................................23#5 – Get aggravated by your parents one last time........................................................33#6 – Go Camping..........................................................................................42#7 – Take the advice of a dog............................................................................48#8 – Get attacked by a mutant while spending the night in a private luxury penthouse.....................54#9 – Get slapped across the face.........................................................................63#10 – Meet a Beauty Queen................................................................................64#11 – Eat Pancakes.......................................................................................72#12 – Break into the White House.........................................................................75#13 – Push the Button that reads DEAR GOD DON'T PRESS THIS BUTTON........................................82#14 – Confront a Mad Scientist...........................................................................84#15 – Learn to Hate and Fear Cows........................................................................87#16 – Elect a President..................................................................................92#17 – Try to Escape from Certain Death...................................................................95#18 – Recover a Fallen President.........................................................................101#19 – Have an Election Recount...........................................................................104#20 – Attend an Inaugural Ball...........................................................................109#21 – Drive North........................................................................................117#22 – Survive a Blackout.................................................................................120#23 – Dream a Mid-Summer's Night Dream...................................................................129#24 – Have a Reunion.....................................................................................133#25 – Go to Court........................................................................................138#26 – Evade a Black Hole.................................................................................145#27 – Discover Your Purpose..............................................................................152#28 – Invent a Holiday...................................................................................155#29 – Make Travel Arrangements...........................................................................162#30 – Endure the Wrath of a Jilted Super-Computer........................................................167#31 – Discover the Truth about Edgar.....................................................................171#32 – Leave America......................................................................................176#33 – Take a Leisure Cruise On Board an Amphibious Assault Ship..........................................183#34 – Kiss a President...................................................................................186#35 – Hunt for a Stowaway................................................................................192#36 – Have a Sea Battle..................................................................................195#37 – Visit Nigeria......................................................................................205#38 – Break into a Palace................................................................................213#39 – Learn to Fly a Helicopter..........................................................................216#40 – Escape a Nuclear Blast.............................................................................221#41 – Crash a Helicopter.................................................................................223#42 – Survive............................................................................................225

Chapter One

The world as we know it came to an end on a Tuesday despite the fact that great effort was made to have it end on a Monday. Monday morning in fact, but too many people wanted to see the season finale of America's number one sit-com, That's My Aardvark, so in the last week things were changed and Tuesday morning became the day and time.

Our hero, Larry Storm, spent this time in bed, asleep. To be fair to Larry, asleep in his studio apartment in Massapequa, New York, on Long Island, things were somewhat normal when he went to bed at midnight. Although he was frustrated that all the late night talk shows were repeats, and he didn't get any new email except for another spam message from the Prince of Nigeria asking for his bank account information, and he was irritated that the local eleven o'clock news came on the air with the reporters drinking shots of whisky while covering odd stories such as Things we'll miss when we're gone, Things to turn off before going, Beware of the cows, and of course, their finale in their 18 part series of Why Bayshore Smells. Larry didn't watch any of these stories, he just saw them announce their coverage at the start of the show and watched with little interest until the weather girl staggered into the weather map explaining that tonight's weather was clear and cool and just perfect and as for tomorrow – who cares – at which remark everyone on set and apparently off set took another shot in jubilation. When the commercial for the Feed Everyone Fund Emporium came on Larry turned off the TV. Larry supposed the news show was canceled and this was their way of saying goodbye. He went to bed.

At some point in the middle of the night he awoke from the sound of a distant bang outside in the parking lot. This was followed by what sounded like someone yelling out the phrase, "Kitten Basket". There have been many thing yelled out around Larry in the course of his life but he was fairly sure "Kitten Basket" was not one of them. He attempted to understand why someone needed to shout this out in the middle of the night but he was already asleep again.

Larry woke up bright and early Tuesday morning and was immediately put out. The TV was broken. Or maybe it was the cable. Whatever it was, there was no reception. He ate a breakfast of macaroni and cheese while staring at an ad torn out of a magazine. It was an ad for Trace Tillman Touchdown sneakers. Tillman was his favorite football player of all time and rumor had it the sneaker war had gotten so intense that the T.T. Touchdowns were wildly advanced. Whatever that meant he had no clue but he did know a pair of T.T. Touchdowns cost more than a pair of season tickets. Larry finished eating, took a shower and got dressed.

Right before he left for work he stopped at the TV. On top of it was a yellowed resignation letter with a blank for who it was addressed to. He had written the letter about ten years and three employers ago. On top of the letter were three unused lottery tickets and a dollar coin. Larry picked up one ticket and scratched it off. It was a losing ticket. He grimaced as he tossed the losing ticket into the garbage pail. It landed on eleven other losing tickets. No resignation today, he'd have to go to work.

Larry worked as a security guard at a posh private community. The job was terrible but at least he got to wear an itchy, ugly polyester uniform. He also got to sit on his duff all day and at lunchtime eat some micro-waved macaroni and cheese. Larry climbed into his rattling old car and headed out to his job. He normally enjoyed driving except for his commute to work which was tedious with rush hour traffic making his drive a long stutter- stop of gas – brake – gas – brake. This morning it seemed his luck finally changed. Traffic was unbelievably light. In fact, he realized as he hit the empty parkway, there wasn't a single other car anywhere.

Larry did admit this was odd. Perhaps it was one of those weird holidays that everyone takes off from work but no one celebrates, like Memorial Day. Still, as he passed exit after exit and didn't see any other car anywhere he was admittedly uneasy. He turned on the radio to try and relax but all he received was static. Larry rolled his head slowly in frustration as he sailed along the empty parkway. He didn't make much money and he could not afford a better radio. To take his mind off his frustrations he began to wonder why there were no joggers or road crews or bicyclists.

Larry worked at the side entrance to the community he guarded. The side gate was only open 8AM to 6PM to help ease community traffic during business hours. Larry arrived at his guardhouse and parked and let himself in and turned on all the lights and sat down and turned on the guardhouse radio.

Static.

Larry sat staring at the long winding drive which led to the main road. It was empty. He sat listening to the static while thinking about how empty the roads were. It was 8 AM and yet no one was leaving the community for work. This was very odd.

Larry took off his dark blue polyester uniform jacket with its yellow emblem proclaiming to him being part of CC SECURITY. He hung it on the coat peg on the wall, opened the window for the warm breeze to come in and returned to his seat. The morning was deadly still.

Larry thought about this for a while. He turned off the static and began to pace and pretend not to notice that as the morning developed no one else seemed to be around. Every few minutes he would leave the booth and walk around the outside of the booth pretending to stretch his legs and trying very hard not to look too much like a nervous man looking around for anyone else. Because he focused so much on the slowly building tension inside of him he only vaguely processed concepts like the fact the world seemed a very quiet place as if there were no cars traveling anywhere, even in the distance. Could they all be sleeping? Or sick? He walked over to the main gatehouse but the gate was open and the guardhouse was empty. Larry was convinced he was dreaming but that didn't help him much. It all just had to be a dream. That thought still didn't help much. Finally about noon without even a car horn somewhere Larry took action. He consulted his employee handbook. He looked in the Table of Contents and under the section of Emergencies he scanned the subtitles and saw sections on Bomb Threats, Fires, Power Outages, Robbery, Floods, and Doughnut Shortages. But there was nothing on what to do if everyone in the community you were protecting seemed to have disappeared. Larry put down the book and called his supervisor. There was no answer. While he was listening to the ringing from the phone he flipped through the security guard manual. He stopped at the entry for Bomb Threats.

On the off chance some nutter calls in a bomb threat here's what to do: Don't panic. Calmly ask the person if this is a prank call. If he says no, Then panic.

Ask: Is the bomb at the security company home office? Does the bomb have anything to do with the CEO's gambling problem? If it blows up will the Board of Director's be affected in any possible way?

If he answers yes to any of these questions notify the CEO right away. Then do something clever to get out alive.

No one picked up on the other end. It didn't go to voicemail. Larry hung up the phone. Something very odd was going on.

He stepped out of the security booth and looked around again. Finally he decided to walk away from the community (which was against regulations) and he went down the twisting rambling private roadway that the residents used to connect to the local network of streets. It was rambling and winding so as to keep the posh community residents from coming into contact with the people who used the local streets.

Larry arrived at the end where the drive met a normally busy commercial road. There was not a car in sight and even more disturbing, there was not a shop open. No one was moving about inside any of the stores and the lights were off. The antique shop was dark and empty. The little store that sold comic books and swords was locked and closed. The hair salon was lifeless. In fact a sign was hung in the window that read : GOODBYE LOSERS. Perhaps they went out business, thought Larry, and if they hadn't the sign probably nudged them in that direction. The road was a fairly long one and Larry turned his head and looked up and down slowly just to be sure. Nothing.

Well not exactly nothing. At one point a small white rabbit with grey splotches on its rump hopped across the empty road. The rabbit paused just about halfway and turned its little white head and looked at Larry. Larry looked back. The rabbit continued to stare. What was disconcerting about this is one of them was an advanced creature with high intelligence, opposable thumbs, and all the benefits of evolution while the other was a creature that lived at the bottom of the food chain with the brain the size of a quarter and ate its own droppings and this was disconcerting because they both had no idea what was going on.

Suddenly Larry realized exactly how quiet the day was. He looked up at the sky. There was no noise – not a distant car, not even a plane in the sky. This was definitely getting strange. He looked back down but the rabbit was gone, apparently quite content with the absence of people and cars and noise. Larry looked back up at the vast blue sky. No planes. People had become so accustomed to engine rumble from the heavens, or white streaks in the sky from trailing of jets or even large dots of distant planes that they no longer registered them. Until they were gone. Larry had the sudden inkling of what it might have been like to live two hundred years ago. Except that two hundred years ago cars and planes didn't exist so they wouldn't be missed. Plus two hundred years ago people were only about four feet tall and died at the age of thirty-six and feminine hygiene was still a distant dream so he stopped thinking about life two hundred years ago.

Larry shook his head and returned to the booth. He was now convinced something very very odd was happening. He tried calling his supervisor again and got no answer again. He called his best friend, Gary, but there was no answer. In fact he hadn't heard from his best friend in over a week. This had been part of Larry's tension lately. No text messages, no voicemails, no emails. Nothing from his closest friend. And while this had bothered him for an entire week it was nothing to how he felt now. For every moment there was no one else a new panic grew. Desperate and scared he finally decided to call 9-1-1. The problem he had at that moment was that he wasn't really sure there was an emergency. A knot of fear coiled continuously in his gut. If he called and the police dispatcher was there what was he going to say, "Hello, where is everyone?" Would they arrest him for being dense? While it was true no one has arrested him for being dense before Larry had never actually gone out of his way to call attention to it – except of course for the time in the fifth grade when he accidentally ripped his pants at the seat. His teacher – his favorite teacher ever, Mr. Wrangle had kindly sent Larry to the nurse to escape the laughter from his classmates. It turned out the nurse's laughter was a little more irritating. Larry wished he could talk to Mr. Wrangle right then and there. Larry wished he could talk to the nurse even. But all he had was 9-1-1. He dialed.

No one picked up.

That was when the first spasm of fear really hit him. Up until that moment he kept himself deluded that everyone was just having a bit of a lie-in. But as the emergency 9-1-1 hotline reached its sixth unanswered ring Larry found his hands grow clammy and his breathing became shallow.

What the heck was going on?

Larry left the guardhouse, locked it up, and drove around the posh community he was supposed to be guarding. There was no one around. No posh residents doing posh things in their secluded little world. No good looking posh women who ignored him because he wore an itchy polyester uniform and was not posh. There was nothing.

Larry pulled back up to the gate where his guardhouse was. He had intended to simply go back inside until his shift was over. But he stepped on the gas and drove away. Once again no one else was on the road. He kept his eyes squarely on the road and kept his mind chattering so it could not think about why no one else was around. He drove on blind autopilot. There was only one place he could go. He drove to the police station. This made perfect sense because if he was right about something strange going on they should be able to help, and if he walked in and everything seemed normal then that was okay too because that would simply mean he was cracking up and they could help him into a nice warm straight jacket.

The ride to the station was uneventful and empty but it took him about seven minutes to leave his car once he had parked. His hands were gripping the wheel with unbelievable tension. He was now in full fledged terror mode. The parking lot to the police station was empty.

Larry slowly walked up the steps. He wasn't sure what he would say to the officer at the desk. Hello. Um ... er ... I was wondering if perhaps you could tell me if most of the public have disappeared. He hoped the straight jacket would be comfortable.

He opened the door and stepped inside and froze. The lights were off and through the sunlight coming in from the windows and the door behind him he could see no one was there.

He finally did what he had wanted to do all morning, what he had been too scared to do. He called out, "Hello?" Larry held his breath as he listened and prayed for an answer. In horror movies the unsuspecting dolt always called out "Hello" which attracted the attention of the machete wielding face wearing mutant who would then attack, dismember and wear the face of the person who called out "hello" while the audience groaned and yelled out that calling out "hello" was the dumbest thing anyone could ever do in a scary situation. Except at that moment it seemed like the smart thing to do. In fact Larry would be relieved if a machete wielding face wearing mutant did appear from behind him.

On second thought, no.

Larry looked around. No one was answering his call. He walked inside and slowly moved through the lobby. He turned on the lights and walked slowly around the building, down the halls, and into the many rooms. Larry had always been interested in the inner workings of a police station so he looked with slight interest at the radios and at the city map and at the WANTED posters on the walls but he was constantly more troubled by the sudden disappearance of every other person. His legs felt rubbery as he walked around the empty police station. There was just no one there. What was left behind was quite disconcerting. In the changing room he came across all the police officer's private lockers and they were all left open and empty as if every officer cleaned out their lockers and left the job forever. By this time Larry was quite prepared to find all the cells empty, which they were.

And then on his way back out of the station he froze in shock again when he reached the lobby. The front door was still open but standing in the doorway was a large white cow. Most people have unofficial, unwritten mental lists in their heads on just about everything. On most people's list of Things You Do Not Expect to Find Standing in an Open Doorway a cow comes pretty close to the top. A cow in a suburban police station was unnerving enough but even odder was the fact that the cow seemed as if it were frozen in shock to see him. It stared at him with eyes more thoughtful than Larry believed was possible from a bovine. Then shockingly the creature backed out through the open door and was gone.

Did that really just happen? Cows could back up?

Larry looked around and noticed a door labeled : EDUCATIONAL ROOM. He opened the door and looked inside just to be sure the entire precinct wasn't hiding inside for some unknown reason. There was a marker board and several desks and from the décor it was clear that this room was used to lecture schoolchildren on field trips. But if the lockers and the empty cells weren't unnerving enough and the cow in the lobby didn't completely ruin his already horrible day the poster on the wall did. It was a colorful poster with bright balloon style lettering that read:

STAY IN SCHOOL OR THIS COULD BE YOUR LIFE And the picture beneath it was of a security guard in a booth as seen from a hidden camera amid some bushes and the guard in the picture was Larry sitting at his desk eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese! It seemed for God knows how long the local police had been scaring children straight by threatening that goofing off would turn them into Larry. He was so saddened by this embarrassing revelation he didn't even bother to read the rest of the words on the poster.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from 42 Things to Do When You Are the Last Man on Earthby Jackson M. Slade Copyright © 2010 by Jackson M. Slade. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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