Felicity Argentia did not want to survive the apocalypse. She had seen the warnings on her telescreen, and had immediately ignored them. In her view, the world was already going to s**t and there was nothing anyone could do but surrender and accept their fate. It was already bad enough that her family's business had gone bankrupt. Frankly, she was rather looking forward to the end. But as usual, she had drawn the short straw and had been part of the small percentage of the world that had survived. Fate was a cruel thing (she often told herself) as her sister, mother and father had died during the bombing of Landmass 5 (formally known as England). Felicity had narrowly escaped and cursed her luck. It was not fair that she lived when so many others had died.
Realising that her family would have wanted her to make the best of the situation, Felicity had found work as an engineer in Landmass 8, where she had been talent spotted by Patron Gulton. Patron Gulton was a middle class man who thought quite highly of himself. He was forever buying materials that he could not afford and using other people as a scapegoat. Felicity loathed working for him but it was the best that she could do. Felicity vowed to survive the post apocalypse, knowing that the earth, her earth, was no longer the place it once was.
*
Felicity woke up to the head splitting sound of metal clanging. Shaking her head, she got up, knowing that Patron Gulton would have her head on a silver platter if she was late to market. Every Tuesday morning, the small village of Amortia held a market which attracted many well to do people from the neighbouring settlements. Felicity hastily got dressed, tucking her mother's pendant into the folds of her shirt. Giving her room one more final check, she made her way downstairs and out into the morning breeze. The January air hit her like a ton of bricks, raking its fingers through her hair, nibbling at her cheeks. Hauling her sack of merchandise, she started her motorbike, an ancient Harley Davidson. Running her fingers across the ancient jet black paint work, she revved the engine to life. Leaving the house in a trail of dust, it wasn't long before she had reached the beginnings of the market where the stall owners had started to set up.
"If it isn't Flicky Argentia! Little Flicky Silver!" A voice crowed, its melodious tune dancing above the din of the market.
"And if it isn't Hunter Stygion." Felicity replied, swinging one leg off the motorbike.
"I see she's still running well. What a beauty," Hunter commented, patting the frame.
"Me or the bike?" Felicity joked. Hunter winked and motioned to the sack protruding from the back of the bike.
"Been busy haven't we?"
"Busier than you. You know I have to reach at least $2000,000 dollars if I want to get out of here. Made a ton of plasma cards, platinum finish. Should fetch at least $70 each."
Hunter whistled, holding up one of the plasma cards. "Damn, Flicky save me one of these."
"No promises," Felicity told him, snatching the card out of his hand. "I'm gonna go set up now, feel like being useful?"
"No, I thought I would watch you struggle and fall over trying to reach the top of the stall." Hunter said, his face deadpan.
Throwing him a look, Felicity made her way over to her stall, A15. She was rather lucky that she owned this stall as it was right at the front of the entrance and this gave her an advantage over the other stall owners. She threw one of the plastic covers to Hunter and silently they began to put the stall together. Felicity' enjoyed this, working together in silence. Hunter often helped her on her bigger projects as she wasn't the tallest human left on earth.
"Phew," Hunter wiped his forehead with his oil covered sleeve. "That's it, I need a break."
"We're not finished yet, you moron."
"Don't call me a moron, midget."
"I'm not the one with oil on my forehead, so technically that makes you the moron."
Hunter rubbed frantically at his forehead.
"Perhaps 'moron' will be our always..." He said theatrically.
"1, that film is over 100 years old. 2, you've just made that oil stain worse. Come here, let me get it."
Hunter obliged, bending his platinum blonde head.
"Am I low down enough for you to reach?"
Felicity hit him with the towel in response.