The Sunshine in My Veins (Peterick) ➳ Book 1

One

When the world ended Patrick Stump expected it to just stop. He expected everything to cease existing and life would be no more. He expected the plants to wither and die. He expected the building to eventually decay and crumble. He expected humanity to vanish into the void of nothing. Never in his contemplative state of Earth's final days did he conjure explosions and screams and death. To him, the end was supposed to be peaceful.

"Patrick."

"Huh?" he asked as his head snapped up to meet those steel grey blue eyes of the only man he trusted.

Joe Trohman shook his head disappointingly and turned around.

"You need to focus more, Patrick. At any moment we could be bombarded. Do you understand how serious this is?"

Patrick quickly nodded. Of course he did, but sometimes he slipped into him mind—a childhood habit he never quite grew out of. It was bound to get him killed one of these days. "I do."

"Then start acting like it. I'm not dying because of you."

That was Joe's nicer way of saying he wasn't turning back for Patrick if they were attacked, and Patrick didn't blame him. Joe had done more than his fair share of getting Patrick out of sticky situations after their first encounter. It wasn't that Patrick couldn't protect himself—because he'd survived two months by himself before Joe came along. It was more of a companion thing. Now that there was someone else to share food runs and watch shifts with Patrick was redeveloping his old traits. The main one being laziness.

"I'm sorry, Joe. Look, I'll go make a run tonight."

"Patrick. You've done it the past three nights. And I know you're not waking me up when you should. Honestly, you need your rest just as much as I do. So, tonight I want you to sit here, read a book or something, and if anything goes wrong you leave. Got it?"

As much as Patrick wanted to argue, he knew better than to do so. Anything Joe said in this apocalyptic world was considered gospel; grains of wisdom Patrick tucked in the back of him mind just in case fate was cruel enough to tear him away from the only man Patrick considered family.

"Got it," Patrick sighed.

He sunk further into the dust covered sofa and pulled his backpack toward him. Joe gave him a proud smile and returned his attention to the window. The curtain was just dark enough to prevent anyone from looking in or out—something Joe had happily pointed out upon stumbling into the apartment two days prior—but the sun seemed to penetrate the fabric just enough to tell the occupants of the room how much daylight was left.

The two sat in silence as the hours ticked by. Patrick had finally pulled out a very battered copy of Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk and was thoroughly immersed in the page-turning text. Joe alternated between pacing the room and squatting next to the window. Boredom was a killer in this world. So was stupidity.

As the final rays of sun faded from the sky, Joe gathered the items needed for his food run: an empty duffle bag, a large baseball bat, and a flash light. Patrick watched quietly and gave Joe a faint goodbye when he left. He knew not to get too attached to anyone, but Joe was more than a companion at this point. He was a friend, a brother, someone Patrick could rely on. Joe wasn't a person Patrick could leave in the middle of the night without feeling guilty.

The next time Patrick reached into his backpack it was to retrieve one of the most important item he possessed: a textbook from the alien scum that had overrun the earth seven months prior. Their intentions for invasion were still unclear to the surviving humans who were few and far between. These aliens had a formal title—Arkkarreda was their planet's name, making them Arkkarredians—but to call them by such a name was taboo.