The Last of Us

By Damir Carter

The Last of Us is a story about a man by the name of Brute along with his comrade Celiana in the fight against racism and or the alliance of racists called the Separatists. A war known as the War of Races occurred causing many races to be annihilated. Those who fought on the side of equality, no matter what ethnicity you may be all joined together against those who fought for the side of racism. Though the leaders were the white supremacists and they tortured and killed off any one who was of their ethnicity but did not side with them. Brute is a bronze skinned man who wears a hood to cover his face, along with Celiana who was Caucasian but a member of the United Races Alliance. The world has been ravaged beyond belief, only few people remain; such as the Separatists. Now Brute and Celiana must try to build a new world order where everyone is equal and no one is looked down upon because of their color, ethnicity, or culture. Even if that new world order will be built off of blood.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Sep 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662914393

Book preview

Introduction

In the year 2025, on June 17th, there would be a war, unlike any that came before. This was a war between all races, all over the world… not one corner of the world was left unravaged. No one knew why this war came about so abruptly, completely out of nowhere, giving no one anytime to stock up. Before most knew it, their front doors were rendered useless, having been kicked in by people of races that hated theirs. There were loud ear bursting screams of those having their lives taken! People’s last images being of watching those deplorable people standing in front of them as they struggled to breathe with a rope around their neck, a gun to the face, a knife to your vital organs! Horrified wails of children not even having a ghost of a chance to fight back! Loud gunshots from any gun anyone could get their hands on, tank rounds being fired and tearing people apart, and nuclear warfare! Holding the stock of their guns or any form of weapons they had were the only sense of hope the people who wanted to be equal among everyone had. The putrid stench you smell of the corpses was beyond unbearable. Philly —destroyed! New Jersey—ravaged! The same would be said for the rest of the world. Washington was the only place left remotely untouched… in whatever sense you perceive burned buildings, abandoned cars—some with people dead in them, and worst of all, the crosses of African Americans who were lynched, putrid smelling corpses of African Americans who were stoned to death on blocks that the White Supremacists and or racists, refused to clean, or even to be in. Some were hanging from the windows with nooses, to show people that you fought and killed at least one– as a sick trophy! As it stands, no more than 13,000 people are left on earth, based on speculation. Some from Spain, England, Britain, France, Washington, New York, and Tennessee… none of which were of any race other than white, to the white supremacist’s knowledge, all but one lone survivor of the onslaught. A medium dreaded African American man. He took solace in his pure brown skin because no one had his shade of melanin anymore, that he knew of at least. It is him against the entire world, at least he believes that. Will he be able to make a difference and defeat the people who destroyed everything he’d loved? Or will he join the others who fought against what shouldn’t be, becoming the next corpse left on the side of the street to rot and decay or be tossed into the massive, nauseatingly smelling corpse piles in the streets.

Act One

How It All Began

The day was Tuesday, March 25th, 2030. Washington, DC —was least destroyed in comparison to everywhere else in the world. Though it may be populated with at least 2000 Caucasians, none came outside. The city appeared barren. Was it because of the abandoned corpses left to rot on most of the streets in cars long since forgotten? Was it because of the high crime rate due to high taxes and so many people starving? No.

The answer could be found in one mysterious person… a person taking the lives of any who met his gaze. So many lives were taken by this person, to the point that most were scared to even let their feet touch the cold cracked concrete outside. Each time there were protests in regard to these mysterious attacks numbering in at least 1500 people, trying to push for new laws, or people just walking the streets, it was chaos. Back then, maybe fifteen to twenty people would die in the span of four hours each. That’s why the streets were bare now, completely stripped of any sign of humans walking around. The one committing these attacks was seen by everyone else as a monster, but in his mind, he was a survivor; killing anyone, as you are about to bear witness to now.

A hooded figure, sprinted through the crowded streets, aggressively chasing a Caucasian man who was running as fast as he could! The Caucasian man running in front of him was trying desperately to get away, constantly turning around to see if the hooded figure was still chasing him, his short brown hair tousled in the breeze as he ran! The hooded figure could see the sweat dripping from his face. The Caucasian stumbled over cracks in the concrete, causing the hooded figure to close the distance between them. This Caucasian man was feeling fear, the likes which he’d never known. When the hooded figure got within 10 feet of him, the Caucasian cried out with a high pitched scream escaping from his mouth!

I don’t wanna die man! Please don’t kill me!

Still, the dark hooded figure pursued behind him, his hood covering his face! The loud heavy footsteps scared the man out of his mind! The figure didn’t stop, continuing to give chase, not slowing down in the slightest. As the man continued running for his life in the road with abandoned vehicles either burned or untouched. He looks behind him to see if the figure had at least been slowed by the cars!

‘This has to at least slow him down, even if it doesn’t guarantee escape!’ he thought to himself as he ran.

Instead, what he saw caused his mouth to open wide in horror, his eyes almost coming to tears, the hooded figure wasn’t being slowed in the slightest. He was closer, almost eleven feet away from him. The man kicked it into high gear, moving his legs even faster to get some distance between them. At this point, the hooded figure was becoming relentless, coming at him even faster than before and trying to close the distance. He then noticed that the man he pursued began turning his head, looking at the modern buildings to the left and the right of him. Some of these buildings were still destroyed with blood and debris still in them. He looked into the windows, one window that the hooded man paid close attention to that the Caucasian man looked at caused him to almost stop! A blonde-haired woman, in a white gown as if she’d just gotten out of bed, was watching all of this go down with her eyes opened wide in disbelief!

The Caucasian man was running and waving both of his hands over toward her window, shaking his head relieved. But the hooded figure knew that that wasn’t the time to be relieved and honestly disregarded her very existence. He heard the man call out loudly!

Please! You have to help me! Call the police, now!

It was unclear to the hooded man whether or not she heard what was said until… she slowly shook her head with a look of horror, eyes wide as her lips were silently moving, mumbling words. It was just as the hooded man thought, this woman did not want to be brought into this mess! She closed the curtain and quickly got out of sight. At that moment, it looked as though the Caucasian man’s heart dropped. He lowered his head as if he were giving up! The hooded figure reached into his pants, pulling out a pistol and pointed it directly at the man’s right leg. He shot, but it looked as if the emotions this man was potentially feeling completely numbed his pain. Until the Caucasian man looked, evidently seeing the wound in his right leg. He stumbled, almost fallen to the ground…

But the hooded figure was now right behind him and quickly caught the Caucasian man with two hands that proceeded to drag the man to an old apartment building that had been scorched. No one was around. He tossed the man on the stairs aggressively, just throwing him like a doll! The hooded figure squatted down, both elbows over his knees with his gun directly in front of him! It was obvious to the hooded figure that the man couldn’t see his face, but at least the hooded figure knew that the man knew what was about to him, an agonizing death just like all the other racists. Seeing the sweat pour down the man’s face, the hooded figure demanded, in a very deep voice,

Do you… remember?

When the hooded man uttered those words, he saw that the man slowly shook his head with teeth chattering from the obvious fear he was in! Lying back against the stairs, backing away… it was clear to the hooded man that the Caucasian man did not want to set him off. Seeing this, the hooded figure began to slowly wave his gun in front of himself, contemplating what to do next. The horrified Caucasian man cleared his throat and worked up the courage to ask something. Stammering over his words, the man asked, Wh-wh-why are-are you doing this? What do you mean by-do you remember?

Though the hooded man heard exactly what he’d said, he thought it best not to respond, although he did stop waving his gun. At this point, the hooded man could see that the terrified man felt as if he asked something he shouldn’t have, as he tried to crawl back a bit further! His body was shaking with anxiety. But then, the hooded figure spoke once again,

…Do you remember the great apartheid that caused so much despair for a certain group of people? Surely you know what I’m talking about, being as though you’re a member of that disgusting hate group, ‘The Separatists’.

The hooded figure’s visibly angry tone of voice caused the Caucasian man to stop moving, but he really didn’t want to say something that would piss the hooded figure off and cause him to have his life abruptly taken. Catching the hooded man off guard, the Caucasian man stopped shaking and just looked him in the face, even though he obviously couldn’t see, he responded, I see. You’re out for revenge then? Apologies, but I’m not part of that sick group.

That statement caused the hooded man to quickly raise his gun in the man’s direction! Not fully understanding what he’d just said or meant! The hooded man, though his face couldn’t be seen by the Caucasian man, wanted to show him just how serious he was about this situation. Even more fearful that he may die, the terrified man’s bottom lip began to shake as the sweat poured down his face. Although, in a slightly curious higher pitched but still agitated voice, the hooded figure wanted an answer, What the fuck do you mean? Cause from where I’m standing, every bastard in this God forsaken state is a member of that group—

I am a member of United Races. The Caucasian man abruptly cut him off, raising his right hand in a stiff arm stance between him and the hooded man, shaking his head. A group created by a man with the blood of another ethnicity running through his veins. We’re the freedom fighters. I’m one of the few that infiltrated this state.

The hooded figure, hearing that, started shaking with the gun in his hand! He felt unsure and quite relieved of the matter at hand, that there were still others. His voice cracking, the hooded man asked, The-there are really still people of the other races still alive besides me?

The terrified man nodded his head with a smile, a clearly forced smile with somewhat white teeth showing. At least the top row. His eyes were closed, and his head tilted to the left. The hooded man abruptly jammed two of his fingers into the horrified man’s right leg and pulled the bullet out, causing the man to let out an excruciating cry of agony and pain!

His mouth was quickly covered by the hooded man with his left hand! The hooded man threw the bloodstained bullet away and took off a sliver of the man’s pants and tied it around the wound, apologizing for his transgression, I didn’t know, I’m sorry for the pain that I’ve caused you up till now… please forgive me?

The Caucasian man put his teeth together tightly, breathing through them to let out a whistle-like sound, while grabbing his leg, and nodding his head. The hooded man put his gun into his left hoodie pocket and moved back a bit, about five feet away from the stairs and the man. He then asked,

What is your name? And why is it that you’re actually here?

The man grabbed his leg, breathed in, and breathed out slowly, and he sprawled back onto the stairs, with his arms out in different directions, and his head lying back on a stair behind him. His eyes faced the sky as he began to speak, My name is Jason-Jason Cera. I’ve been sent here because of my family. I wanted to contribute to the cause instead of sitting around like many others. Though I don’t get to see my wife and children now, I can at least gain info on the situation here.

The hooded man lifted his head up as he looked down to him, clearly confused about what he’d heard. With a silent,

Hmm? coming from his lips, the hooded man continued with a curious question, So, you’re out here to gather information on the situation? What, are they planning some sort of attack?

Jason quickly shook his head as he lifted it off the stair behind him. Bringing his left hand to his mouth in a fist and clearing his throat, he began, The last known stronghold is all the way over in New York. The only reason I managed to get here was because I hitched a ride with some of The Separatists coming from New York, saying that I was one of them. Granted, I had to kill someone and steal their Separatist shirt, but it was necessary.

Hearing this, the hooded man nodded his head in agreement, stood up straight and extended his right hand to Jason. Jason looked toward his hand with clear hesitation as his mouth shook.

I understand. The figure replied, awaiting the handshake.

Jason gave a faint smile, lifting the left side of his lip, he reached out, shaking his right hand. He then asked, "I know that under these messed-up-ass