Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse

1) It Begins with a Prince

Prince Torin Henry James Albert of Wales was visiting the United States of America on the day the world ended. He was in the bathroom of the Blair House, a home reserved for visiting dignitaries and heads of state, when the lights went out. It was the day after he had almost been trampled by his adoring fans at the airport and the morning of his official visit with the President at the White House. He looked in the mirror at himself and moved his jaw around. His face was sore from smiling.

All of this was fun five years ago, when he was first dubbed the "Playboy Prince", but he was a boy then. Now he was a man, and he wanted to be treated and respected like a man, and not some teenage heartthrob. It was all so annoying at times. He wanted to be taken seriously and not seen as just another pretty face.

Photos, always the photos. Thousands of selfies. Step this way - get you picture with the world's most eligible bachelor. He felt like a clown, a sad clown prince. The paparazzi followed him around like he was a rare butterfly waiting to be captured and then mounted on the wall behind a piece of glass.

The reality, he knew, was that here he was in a bathroom again trying to get some alone time. If not so pathetic, it would be funny. He had been in here so long, his staff and the Americans thought he had a bad case of eating too much American food. Only his head of security, Jack Taylor, knew the truth - that this would be his last official tour. Prince Torin was retiring from the public eye in two weeks. Well, at least as much as an heir to the throne could retire from the public eye. Regardless, he told himself, he would be done with smiling for photos.

Jack Taylor was not here right now. He had gone ahead to the next location - the next photo op in the prince's "Goodwill Tour of America". Sounds like a damn rock show, Prince Torin thought to himself. And sadly, the leader of the band can't sing at all, and he definitely does not write his own songs or even his own speeches.

Prince Torin looked at the speech before him that he had been practicing in the mirror. It was the speech he was to give at the dinner in his honor later that evening at the White House. It was another photo opportunity for a prince who had rather play polo or shoot skeets or kiss a pretty girl. It was all so damn monotonous. He craved adventure. Anything would be better than another dull dinner, followed by waltzing with some statesman's chatty wife.

"I love your accent, please, oh, please never stop talking," he imitated in a mocking voice as he lowered his head and batted his eyelashes pretending to be a statesman's chatty wife. He sighed and then said to himself, "You are a disgusting, fake bastard." He threw the hand towel at his image in the mirror.

Prince Torin was about to open the door and brave the real world when the lights flickered and dimmed and then went completely dark and did not immediately turn back on. Before he could unlock the door, it was pushed open and Prince Torin was immediately surrounded by not only his entourage of six armed bodyguards, but also the two American secret service agents assigned to his detail. It became quickly very crowded and very bright in the bathroom as eight cell phone flashlights lit up the area.

"Excuse me sir," said Ronald one of the secret service agents, "I'm sorry, but we've got to evacuate. Terrorists."

"Amazing," said Prince Torin as he looked at his watch. "It can't have been more than 30 seconds since the lights went out. How do you already know that this is a terrorist act?"

"It's what we do sir," replied Ronald. "Let's go."

"Does anyone know where Jack is now?" the prince asked as he was shoved through the door. Jack was more than the prince's head of security, and the prince was worried.

Ronald misinterpreted the question. "We have you sir. We've got to evacuate immediately."

Prince Torin could tell from Ronald's urgency that this was serious and not a routine power failure. The lights were still out, and he could hear movement on the other side of the bathroom door. When he asked if they were under attack, Ronald shook his head no, but added, "Not specifically, but we need to get out of here."

"Will we be returning to Blair House?"

Ronald shook his head. "Not safe."

"But I left my hair products there," said the prince. "It is imperative that we stop for them."

Ronald paused a moment and then said, "We can send someone for them sir, but for now, we have got to go."

I don't think these Americans have a bit of merriment about them at all, thought Prince Torin. And, they certainly don't care about their appearances or how their hair looks. Americans are so damn serious. They act like the sky is falling.

Less than forty five minutes later, Prince Torin was evacuated and sequestered to a hotel he never learned the name of. As soon as they arrived, the prince cut the television on and watched images of the world burning. This seems really serious, Prince Torin thought. He asked about his friend and chief of security, Jack.

"On the way," said one of his staff.

"Well, I hope he got my hair gel," said Torin. When no one laughed, Torin added, "Well he does use it even more than I do." He smiled, but his usual audience did not seem to appreciate his keen sense of humor today. They seemed to be on hyper alert. The scenes of burning buildings in California on the television were not helping the mood of the room.

Ten minutes later, Prince Torin was in a bathroom again. This time, he was locked behind the door for his protection. He heard multiple gunshots and the crashing sounds of falling things and moans of pain. As he reached to turn the knob to go do something, though he didn't know what yet, he heard Jack Taylor through the crack of the door.

"Tori, get out the window."

Prince Torin hesitated. "What the hell is going on? Get in here and give me a gun."

"No, don't open the door. I'll follow. Go. You know the plan."

"Plan?" The Prince did not know the plan.

"Go find the girl."

"Oh yes, right." If he could not hear the sound of gunfire, the prince would have laughed. "The girl. Find the girl."

"Seriously, go Tori."

There was another shot, a thud, and then the sound of someone falling against and sliding down the door and then silence. Prince Torin went to the window, opened it, and stepped out onto the roof. He looked down, closed his eyes, held his breath, and leapt. He fell three stories before the waters of the Anacostia River broke his fall, and so the prince was not killed before the story even started. He was an excellent swimmer, but more importantly that day an excellent floater as the river's current carried him ten miles downstream.

When he got to shore, the first thing Prince Torin noticed was the sound of utter silence and the darkness. He looked around and saw no one. He was completely alone. He had never been completely alone in his life. What should he do? Where should he go? He had always had people to advise him and protect him, but now it was just him. He couldn't just wait here for rescue. He had to keep moving. He began to walk. He thought he heard a gunshot. And then he was sure he heard gunfire. He began to run.

The prince ran for the next hundred days or so. He couldn't be sure how many days he ran because you don't stop to make tally marks or check a calendar when you are running for your life. He ran and he hid and he ran some more. He did some things he regretted, but not many things he regretted because things deteriorate rapidly when the world is on fire.

Until, one day, he stopped running. Though he was searching for her all along, it was quite by accident and quite the stroke of luck that he found her at all.

Prince Torin found the girl.