The Flucks — Chapter 14 — Bury a Friend

Slacy’s trip has been a bit delayed. What lies on the horizon probably won’t help him make up lost time.

The Flucks is my (Ed) first novel and an experiment. We are independent creators, publishing chapter by chapter as a podcast and text. It’s designed to be heard. We’d love to receive your feedback so we can tell stories better.

Continue reading for Chapter 14, start at Chapter 1, or find where you left off.

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Audio performance by Anthony Michael Malec

Text copyright © 2026 Ed Herrington

Last time on The Flucks

I taped up stripped wires and bent the connectors back into place best I could. Now getting five kilowatts—better, but still only half what it should be. I’d need a better fix. I could get wires anywhere, but these connectors wouldn’t be as easy to find.

We sat for a couple more hours taking advantage of unobstructed sun. Before we started off, I checked my blog. Ding—I had a DM.

OMFG i knew it!!! send vid for proof of life

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Slacy’s trip has been a bit delayed. What lies on the horizon probably won’t help him make up lost time.

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Chapter 14 — Bury a Friend

While the sun beat down on me and Galileo, I recorded a vid for Chuq and hit send. She’ll love it.

I looked at the cables again, but I couldn’t really do anything while they were still charging—unless I wanted to add electrocution to my death tally. I also didn’t want to sacrifice any solar time. I’d look at them tonight.

Even though I patched the cables and sun was high above, charge rate was steadily going down. I looked up, holding my hand to block the white sun. Blue sky, no buzz-vultures—all good, so why is the rate decreasing?

Nothing I could do about it. After the sun sank low on the horizon, I packed up and we took off. We drove only a couple hours into the night, stopping as the battery plummeted to seven percent. I tried to work on the cable connectors, but my fingers were icicles.

There wasn’t much else going on, so we went to sleep. It was colder wherever we were, so I used the remaining charge to keep the heat on. The skies would be clear tomorrow anyway.

✹✹✹

We rose at dawn. I didn’t bother setting the panels out lastnight, so I got up to do so. Sunlight seemed different somehow. We were further west than I was used to, but I was pretty sure sun works the same everywhere.

With sunrise, bright pink hues and muted orange tones revealed flat landscape. Morning vistas like this is why I shouldn’t stay up late all the time. We weren’t far enough south yet because dormant grass surrounded us, and low oaks peppered the distant landscape.

In the west, the blue horizon was not. In its place, a purple curtain hung from the troposphere, fading into brown haze sweeping the ground. It could have been thunderheads, but I couldn’t see any cloud outlines. This ominous gradient increased my desire to wake early for sunrises.

After some breakfast, Galileo and I threw and retrieved some things. I’d sit in a camp chair and throw her ball into a field, and she’d bring it back a dozen times before she had to stop for water and act the sphinx. Then it was Terry’s and my turn to play under her watchful eye.

“Alright, girl, see here? The trick is all in the wrist.”

I pulled my arm back, aligning my shoulder and elbow, dialing in my heightened new-body senses, and swung in a blur with my wrist snapping just so. Terry flew across the field, cartwheeling, screaming in the wind. Thwack. He fell to the ground, flat side having hit bark.

Galileo snarkbarked.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get the hang of it.” I would have liked to blame my aim on the eerie orange daylight. The purple curtain still draped over the horizon. It never seemed to get closer, but it cranked up contrast that cast strange shadows.

I walked over and retrieved Terry, twirling my kilt as I spun back around. Long wool socks kept my legs and feet warm, but that maneuver sent a chill up my skirt. Felt good, though. Running hither and thither to toss a hatchet backwards into a mesquite tree was sweaty work.

At high noon, well not noon or high—whatever time it is in winter when the sun is as overhead as it’s gonna be—the picture was becoming clear. Solar panels were getting less light than yesterday—less light than even this morning.

As I pondered this conundrum, tree leaves, fluttering from chilly breeze, stilled. Again, I looked to the west. A brown-orange wall obscured the horizon. From my extensive knowledge of weather reports from Martians, I knew what this was. Sandstorm.

That’s why the charge rate had dropped. Dust was already high in atmosphere, reflecting more sun than usual. I just couldn’t see it yet.

Two options. Seal up, hunker down. Or, outrun it. The storm was moving west-to-east. To outrun, I’d have to head east, but that’s the wrong direction. Going through it would just be stupid, right?

If it didn’t extend much south, I could maybe get out of its shadow. But if it went farther than our range, we’d be dead in the water when it hit. GOATmobile would be limited to whatever battery we already had since onboard solar wouldn’t get much sun through the dust.

Meh, fuck it. Storm’s over there. It’ll wait. We could go one-fifty kilometers if I drove a reasonable speed and charged for another hour, even in this light.

With nothing left to do but wait for solar rays to excite enough lackadaisical electrons to jump from valence to conduction band, I returned to hatcheting. After a dozen more thwacks, I was not getting the hang of it. Seeing diminishing returns with Terry practice and solar charging, I gave up.

“Time to go.”

Galileo jumped into GOATmobile while I packed up the panels. We sped south, towards Chuq.

✹✹✹

To my right, orange wall. To my left, white haze. Ahead, thin strip of asphalt indicating I hadn’t driven into a ditch yet. Forty-five minutes of this, and I was losing focus, my mind wandering. It’s fine—GOATmobile took the wheel.

I was thinking about Chuq’s vid. The first time around, I focused on her and how she had changed—but, not really at all. After the tenth rewatch, I noticed the background and wondered where she might actually be. I knew she was in Oaxaca, but where exactly? Was she safe?

The vid was shot indoors, a wall of vivid colors and tile. Off in the corner, dry leaves of some sort of succulent. She’d know what it was. The scene didn’t look out of the ordinary. A Mexican dwelling, but more so—yeah, that was it. More presentation than lived in. Knowing Chuq, it’s probably somewhere with a grill and sharp knives.

Warning icons lit up the dash, beeping in rhythm with my jump-started heart rate.

Storm approaching

Darkness loomed as the sandstorm started to overtake us. None of the car’s sensors were able to penetrate the dust. Charge rate was zero and battery level gave up reporting.

Something plinked off the hood. Then another. Crack. A thin line formed in the windshield as a mud-colored ball bounced away. What tha—hail?

Plink. Plink. Plink. — Plonk. Plonk.

We had to get out of here—I took the wheel and floored it, digital readout climbing from one-forty-five to upwards of two-hundred kph. GOATmobile’s HUD protested, but I kept the pedal down, hearing the normally quiet electric motor squeal with joy.

Sandpaper dragged across the windows. The dash screamed about clogged motor cooling vents and a dozen other messages I couldn’t identify. Whirring kicked into high gear, then cut out abruptly. We limped to a silent stop.

GOATmobile still had some power, just not enough to roll any farther. I wasn’t quite sure where we were or how far we’d gone. I couldn’t see more than a few meters ahead. It was like being in an orange blizzard. Sand-blizzard? Slizard? Yeah, that ain’t it.

Sand settled on the windshield, turning the clear surface into canyon strata. It began blowing out through the AC vents. The car was well sealed, but the seals were no match for an onslaught of microscopic dust hitting at all angles. I shut the heater off.

Blue electric arcs danced across the hood as the commotion charged particles into ions. Drifts formed in swirls, piling against the sides. They centimetered up, covering the westward windows.

A few more plinks and plonks hit the roof, then the sound tapered off. It best not have damaged any solar panels. Without the heater, we were freezing. I still had the seat warmers on, but they wouldn’t last much longer and weren’t doing a whole lot of good anyway.

Galileo panted heavily and whimpered.

“It’s okay, girl. This should pass soon.”

It occurred to me that I might freeze to death. That’d be okay, I guess. I’d be back. But what about Galileo? Did dogs get the Flucks? The wolves almost ate her. Would she have come back from that?

What does it mean when even the animals can’t die? Do they turn to ash? Would I ever be able to eat a hamburger again? A problem for another day. What’s important is Galileo. I couldn’t risk it. It’s possible she didn’t catch the Flucks or that it doesn’t work the same way for dogs.

If I froze to death, I’d turn to a pile of ash, and she’d be trapped in the car under a pile of sand. If I cracked the door now, the dust would get inside and in her lungs, causing permanent damage. I needed a way for her to open the door if I died.

With no more ideas, I did the last thing I wanted to do. “Um, hello, GOATmobile?”

Hopefully, this car wasn’t as dumb as Shitmobile. After a few seconds of waiting with no answer, I began to think it was.

“Hi, Slacy.” A gentle fem voice came from all directions.

“Umm… you know my name?”

“Of course. Snackbot told me all about you.”

That damn robot, always thinking ahead. I wish it were here right now to help me work yet another problem I had created. “Coo-cool—wait. How did Snackbot tell you? Did it sing you a ballad?”

“Of course not, Slacy. The voice you gave Snackbot only enables it to play songs from a bygone era. According to my knowledge base, no songs have been sung for you.”

“Bet.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand—”

“Never mind. How did it speak then?”

“All Voltivian devices communicate in a proprietary tight-beam protocol. It gave me a data packet with everything it knew about you as soon as you first opened my door at Level 8, where Snackbot and I were created. It later did some system upgrades with the devslate you gave it and kept me up to date with your ongoings.”

“That’s, uh, nice.” I sniffed. Or tried to. My nose was clogged by the particulate matter that penetrated the cabin.

“It is. What can I do for you? I see the battery is nearly drained and there’s a storm above us, preventing adequate charging.”

It didn’t mention my cable fuckup. A real one, that AI. When I was a kid, my mom and I were in a car crash. I was sitting in the backseat and felt fine, but in the mirror I could see blood running down Mom’s forehead. I started to freak out.

Mom said it would all be alright and pressed a button on the car’s ceiling. A person answered and their pleasant voice came over the speakers, asking if we were okay. Mom responded, and the voice said help was on the way.

“Slacy, are you alright?”

“Yeah—” I cleared my throat. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. The heater won’t be able to run. If I freeze to death or suffocate, I’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t sound fine, Slacy.”

“Right. Well, I’ll come back, somewhere else. So, I’ll be alive… more or less.”

“Yes, Snackbot told me that has happened to you before, but that seems highly improbable. If I didn’t know Snackbot, I’d think it was making a joke.”

“No, it’s no joke, but that’s not the point. Even if I died for real this time, the car would be closed. Galileo would be trapped. I—I don’t want her to die.”

There was no response. The battery had probably crapped out, knocking the AI offline. I stroked Galileo’s fur, letting her lick my hand. “Well, girl, this might be it for both of us.”

“I have a plan.” GOATmobile’s gentle voice came through the speakers. “I’ll shut down any nonessential systems, including myself, then set a timer to open the door. I won’t be able to do more than that. But, Slacy—”

A pause. Did it already go offline? “Yes?”

“I’m not sure it will be enough. Some heat will be needed to keep minimal systems online and the door from freezing shut. I’ll channel all power towards those critical components.”

“That—” I tried to reply, but my throat was suddenly dry, all the liquid having migrated to my eyeballs. “That will be great. Thanks, GOATmobile.”

“My pleasure, Slacy. Anything else before I shut down?”

“Uh, oh, yes. Sorry for calling you a goat.”

“No worries, it’s perfect. I am the greatest of all time.” All the lights in the cabin went out.

GOATmobile shook as wind buffeted and sandblasted the windows. The white noise would have been calming if my teeth weren’t chattering. Not the kind of ASMR I needed right now.

I crawled between the seats to get into bed, burrowing under the covers and calling Galileo to join me. She scurried from the passenger seat, tail low between her legs. She opened her mouth wide in an anxious yawn.

I lifted the corner of my wool blanket. She moseyed over and forcefully pushed her forehead into mine, then slid it under my chin, laying her neck against my own and trying to roll out her belly. I put my arms around her, returning the hug, then pulled her in, giving a kiss between her ears.

We huddled for warmth. The color of the dust swirling around us deepened. As it closed in, blocking off the last remnants of daylight, the car interior settled into darkness.

Muffled by layers of sand, everything was now silent, except Galileo’s panting.

“Well, girl, I hope Chuq doesn’t mind us being late.”

She nestled in tighter as we shivered in pitch black.

Author’s Notes

I’ve realized the Flucks is probably hopepunk. A post-utopia apocalypse where one man keeps being shat on, but gets up and walks it off.

And then there’s all the solar. So this is also probably solarpunk, though I’ve never actually read any.

A few years ago, I watched Long Way Up with Obi Wan Kenobi Ewan McGregor. He and his best friend drove from a freezing Patagonia, up through the rest of South America, all the way to L.A.

They drove on prototype electric Harley’s and prototype Rivian trucks were their support vehicles. This was before Rivian was in production. I’m not sure the Harley’s even are today. Most of their route did not have EV charging stations back then. Rivian created a somewhat crude charging network for them. But they made it, with lots of trials and tribulations. Seemed fun.

Last year, I got a Kia EV9. An all electric SUV. My eldest son and I thought, what the hell, let’s drive to California. You know, just to see if we could. We actually made the 5,000 mile round trip without any problem finding charging stations. The 20 minute fast charges were perfect for getting snacks and a catnap.

On that loooong drive, driving across the Mojave desert with an overcast sky and wind blowing tumbleweeds into my car, I got an idea. What if there were solar panels and EVs in the apocalypse?

In theory, you could drive everywhere and charge and never have to hunt for gas. But that doesn’t mean everything would go as plan.

I recently was in a car accident in that same EV. The vehicle that took me cross-country and back, driver assist doing a lot of the work, suddenly failed and sent us hydroplaning across the highway, into a ditch, and up a hill. We narrowly escaped something much worse. But I still love that car, and driving across the country.

Next Chapter Coming, uh… Soon, Yeah. Soon.