Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse

15) A Possible Sighting of a Prince

We run for our lives. It is what Steven and I do best when faced with danger. We don't wait around to help. We don't wait around to see how it all turns out. We run.

We run down the hall together until we come to an intersection, and we do what I taught Steven. We split up. Steven goes left, and I go right. I run so hard and so fast that it is only when I am outside that I realize Steven is not back with me. That is ok because he knows what to do if we are separated - meet at our designated rendezvous. I run to the ballfield way back behind the school and hide and wait in the dugout.

I wait for Steven until I get panicky. He might be dead or worse, captured. Finally, just when I am getting ready to leave my hiding spot and go looking for him, Steven arrives. He has some Cokes and the other loot and, oddly, what looks like a scrapbook.

"Sorry, I'm late. I had to go back by my house to check on Nana and look for this." He points to the book which is a scrapbook with the letters "Prince Torin" embossed on the front cover in blue sequins. "Blue, to match his eyes, "says Steven.

"What?" Are you crazy? They could have followed you. Hurt Nana."

"No, they could not have followed me because he killed them. The prince killed them. I snuck back to see. I had to know for sure if it was him."

"What? What prince? Why did you go back? What are you talking about?"

I am sure Steven is hallucinating from up-close-violence and a Coke sugar rush. He opens the scrapbook and points to the 8 by 10 photo on the inside cover. There is a picture of a clean shaven, smiling young man with blue eyes and dimples you can fall into.

"Prince Torin," says Steven as he taps the picture. "It's him. Alive and saving people right here in little 'ol Mount Airy."

"Steven, what would a prince be doing here? In America? In Mount Airy? At the end of the world?"

"I wish you would quit saying - the end of the world - we don't know that. The world may be fine. It is America that has gone to shit."

"I'm sorry, Steven. I don't know if I'm a pessimist or a realist, but either way, it is not helping. I'll try to do better. But, really, why would a prince be in our old school?"

"Looking for these?" Steven holds up a Coke and offers me one. "I don't know how a prince from England got in Mount Airy, but you know he is one of my favorites, and I follow him on Instagram. He was in America on the day of the EMP. He was in Washington. Remember, I told you. Maybe, he is like everyone else now. Maybe he is running, hiding. Maybe he is just like us. Maybe he's hungry."

I drink my Coke and burp really loudly. "Damn, that's good."

"Watch your language, young lady," says my best friend.

"I didn't think the prince was that tall," I say.

"Well, he has grown since you used to like him too. He's 6'2''."

"Uh, never a fan and what about his accent?" I mimic a British accent and say, "He did not have a British accent."

"The man speaks eight languages. You don't think he can fake an accent?"

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because he is hiding, like us."

I ask another question. "I was in his fan club once, remember when you made me be in it with you?"

"You hated it."

"I did."

"But you still joined."

"Yeah, I believe you charged me five bucks."

"Administrative costs," says Steven.

"Yeah, I am sure, but I do remember one thing about your fan club. It was his bodyguard's club too. They looked alike. You loved him too."

"Ah yes, the dreamy, yet deadly Jack Taylor."

"Yeah that's his name. I forgot it. I know this prince picture looks like the guy back there, but," I thumb to another page and point to it, " this Jack Taylor picture looks like him too."

"Do you seriously think the president of the East Central High School Prince Torin/Jack Taylor Fan Club cannot tell his boys apart?"

I look at the photos again. "Yes," I say.

Steven looks at the pictures too. "Well, with the beard, it is hard, but there is one for sure way. If he was naked, I would know for sure."

"Steven, please don't tell me you have seen a picture of a royal prince naked. You know it is probably a fake."

"No Eliot, I mean with shirts off. The prince has a scar on his chest. He had heart surgery when he was a baby. He has a scar. Jack does not."

"Well, I don't think we are going to see him again, naked or not, so it doesn't really matter."

"We have to help him. Eliot, don't you get it? Prince Torin Henry James Albert of Wales is stranded. He is alone. His beautiful bodyguard, Jack, and the rest of his entourage are gone. They must be dead because they would never leave his side. We have to help. The prince is in danger."

"Too bad for the prince. If it was the prince."

"It was him. Prince Torin from Britain. Prince Torin just saved our butts. A real live prince is our hero, Eliot. And we, I guess, are his damsels in distress."

"Ridiculous. First of all, we are not damsels and secondly, we can look after ourselves."

"Yeah, and that is all we have been doing. Looking out for ourselves. And you know, I have a soft spot in my heart for my dear prince. He has had a tragic life. So much loss."

"Yeah, so much loss and so much suffering that his nickname is the Playboy Prince. Steven, do you remember anything I've been telling you? The rules - Stay hidden, stay alone, no crowds, family only, don't be noticed?"

"Eliot, you know he is just trying to hide his pain. Besides, what about the most important rule - help people?"

"That's not a rule, Steven."

"Well that is good because we haven't helped a soul in this mess, in this end of our world, but ourselves. When we could help, we ran. We saved ourselves."

"And that is what we are supposed to do. Save ourselves."

"I don't really want to live in that kind of world, Elie. I think we need to write our own rules. We need some new rules. Rules that will keep us safe, but rules that will keep us human too. Rules that will make sure when this is done, we are the same people we were before. Good people."

I don't say anything back. I think of the children waiting for milk. I hear the screaming. Steven is right. I guess I knew it all along. Who wants the kind of world where you don't help a crying baby? Who wants this world?

"Ok," I reluctantly agree because helping others is the opposite of a survival rule. "We will go back tomorrow just to make sure the coast is clear and look for him. We'll find your prince."

We click our Cokes together, take a swig, and burp in unison.