Survival Of The Fittest

He could only barely make it out. Turkey vulture, side of the road. At least a half hour since any cars had been by. Plenty of time to gorge itself on the cougar, or deer, or fox, or...

It didn't matter.

Gary's hands were in his face. He sighed again, thumping the back of his head against the Joshua tree. He wiped his tears, planting wet fingers in the desert dust. A bit of sharp rock cut up his palm, but he didn't care. Didn't even feel it, really. He didn't feel much at all, these days. He didn't mind that.

The vulture flew off. There was a car coming. Gary glanced back, squinting at the headlights. It wasn't a sheriff, and there's no reason a hiker would drive to a goat path on the side of a highway. Not at one in the morning. The car came to a stop, the lights went off. Gary blinked, his eyes widened. His fists clenched. He started to feel. He hated that.

"No." He thought to himself. Cold sand ground between his knuckles. "No, no, no no no." He stood up, staring daggers at the boy in the truck. This was his fault. His fault, and Gary's own, stupid fault. Neither of them should have been there. They didn't deserve to be there.

He pelted his balled-up hoodie toward the windshield, out of spite more than anything. "Why the fuck are you here!?"

Isaac didn't know why he was here.

There was a lot of stuff Isaac realized he didn't know since everybody disappeared. Disappeared. Comfy word for it. How many times had he wished some of 'em would drop dead and now he couldn't even bring himself to think about what happened in a nice, clear picture? Must be what guilt was like. How the hell did people live with this all the time?

For now he spent a lot of time in his garage working on his new project, and a lot of time out in the desert driving around by himself. It was too hard to be around town. He could feel the looks pouring in on the back of his skull. The pity from people who didn't really know him, and worse the judgement from those that did. Hell, he could practically hear them now: How come all the nice, smart, well-behaved kids got snatched off to die and we're left here with shitty little Isaac Brea to show for it?

Fuck 'em. He didn't owe them anything. He knew where his debt was.

A hoodie crashing against the hood of his truck shook him out of the thought. When had he stopped? Put a pin in that, that was a problem to get back to later. Right this second he just rolled down his window and pinched the bridge of his nose before turning his gaze up to Gary.

"Well Gary, I didn't get the fucking memo that you owned the desert now. My mistake, you just pass me the proper paperwork and I'll be on my way, alright?"

Calm down. Gary needed to calm down.

That was what always screwed him over, his inability to chill out and just let someone be an asshole. If he had just done that before, this wouldn't be happening. He took a breath, gritted his teeth and moved back to a seated position. He closed his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Distract yourself with other thoughts. Laundry, shoes, hiking, exercise, jogging, track...

Isaac did track, too. That was where Gary met him. His fists clenched again.

"Deep breaths. Stay calm." He turned, opening his eyes to look at Isaac again.

"Fuck yourself." He said it calmly. "You know what I mean. I'm out here every night, I've been coming out here every night since I was sixteen." Gary stood up, walking over to Isaac's hood and plucking his hoodie off the windshield.

"I've never seen you out here. Why are you driving through a back-country road at half-past tomorrow?" Pulling the sweater over his head, he placed his off-hand against the truck. He popped his head out of the neck-hole, shaking his hair out of his face and lifting his gaze back up to Isaac. "

What was this guy's problem? 'I've been jerking off in the desert since I was sixteen and I've never seen you out here in the giant fucking wasteland of sand dunes that I've claimed complete dominion over.' Clearly he was on about something, but fuck that, so was everybody so he could take a number. And now he out here throwing hoodies at Isaac's car and shit. Where did he get off?

"Now, I know this is gonna sound crazy," he said nice and slow out the window. "But the desert? It's big. Like, real big. Wiiiiiild big. You wouldn't believe. I mean, obviously you don't, that's why we're having this whole conversation, yeah?"

Isaac sighed and put it in park. "I've been out here every night the last couple weeks. I'm scouting locations for the memorial. The fuck else do you want to hear?"

Gary blinked. "Ignore the snark. Keep calm."

"Eat a dick." He said, a picture of tranquility. He hadn't heard about any memorial, but he didn't exactly read the paper every morning. It didn't surprise him, they were bound to build one sooner or later. What surprised him was Isaac's involvement. He stretched his neck a bit, leaning on the front fender.

"Could've just told me that from the get-go, really. Could've just said 'Hey Gary, I'm looking for a spot to put a memorial,' instead of 'Hey Gary, remember how much of a fuckface I am?'" He shrugged, pulling up his hood. His ears were cold. "That too much to ask, Isaac?" He let out a sigh.

"What kind of memorial is it." It came out more like a statement than a question. He looked around. This wasn't a great place for a memorial. Too many plants, birds, rocks and things. He turned his head to Isaac in the truck. "And why are you the one scouting for it?" He pulled out his phone, checking the time. "...at one-twelve A.M."

Any other time he would have kept winding him up. He didn't owe Gary shit. He didn't know him, and he didn't have any reason to care about his approval, so he sit on all his fucking questions and rotate for all Isaac cared. Maybe he should have just gunned the engine and left him coughing in the desert. Next time he decided to give him attitude out here he would. Yeah, definitely. But Isaac didn't fuck around about the memorial.

"You know what kind it is." Isaac's voice was quiet and his eyes didn't quite meet Gary's anymore. They were looking past him into the night's sky. "Only one thing anybody's talking about when they say that in Kingman. We both know that."

His hand snatched out to kill the engine and the beams before he'd really thought about it. Just felt natural. Like it wasn't right to talk about it in all the dirt and harsh light. It took him a couple seconds before he continued just above a whisper. "I've been working on something for awhile. Not for any of the news assholes or any idiots crying their eyes out over kids they never even knew. Just...just for them. That's all."

He didn't look away from the landscape. Blinked, twice. Took a deep breath, let out a deep sigh.

"That's good of you." He didn't know what else to say, this was pretty far out of left field coming from Isaac. Gary just assumed Isaac was a bit of a two-dimensional fuckface. Isaac probably thought the same of him. He tilted his head a bit, squinting in the dark. His eyes were still adjusting.

"What kind of memorial is it? Because the ground here is too uneven for anything big, and I doubt you're just nailing a sign to a tree." He took some steps forward, one hand out. The scaly tree bark felt cool against his palm. "Not just that, but the Joshua trunks are fibrous as hell. Nailing things to them can be a bit of a bitch." He turned back to Isaac, leaning back against the Joshua tree.

He was calm now. Actually calm. Didn't take much, in retrospect.