If I Were the Last Man Alive - Cover

If I Were the Last Man Alive

Copyright© 2014 by Number 7

Chapter 12

Monday.

Even now that I was king of the world, I still hated Mondays.

I headed for the airport by 7 AM. Sanford Airport was just off the Greenway, about eight miles east of I-4 and not very far south of the Saint John's River Bridge. I was there in no time. I drove into the airport, across the runways, and to the edges of the property. That gave me a good view of the surrounding area. Any jets in the air when the disappearance occurred had to come down somewhere, and the airport was as good a place to start looking as anywhere.

Several smudges on the horizon could have been crash scenes. I would check from the top floor of the control tower.

I climbed the stairs and at the top found an unobstructed view of the surrounding countryside. It looked as if there had been some kind of event. They were far away and not discernable. Whether it was a plane crash or crashes, I didn't know.

I chose not to drive way out of the way to check them out. I would see much more at the bigger airport. I headed west on I-4 towards Orlando International.

I detoured to drive around the Orlando Convention Center to check for any activity. The center was wide open and I drove the Excursion right into the lobby and down the concourses.

Dental surgeons were having their convention when everyone checked out. Banners were hung everywhere. The crowd would have stayed at the Peabody Hotel, so I drove over there to investigate.

The Peabody was famous for the little gaggle of ducks that were trained to listen for special music. When they head the music, they lined up, walked to the elevator and were accompanied to the lobby by an attendant. There they resided for the rest of the day in the lobby fountain.

I took the stairs to the fourth floor to look for any sign of people or ducks. I found neither.


The tower at OIA was harder to enter, but a strong bolt cutter and a crow bar did the trick. At the top, I could see quite a distance; as in Sanford, smudges out there could be crash sites. They were a distance away — not close to or on the airport property. To get to those areas, I would need something capable of traveling across a swamp.

I walked through the terminals, which were quiet as tombs. The terminal area was coated with dust. Other than luggage, not thing seemed out of place. It saddened me to think that the Orlando Airport was turning to dust — just like the dust that layered everything in these concourses — and be forever forgotten.

The jeweler had a supply of watch batteries, so I stocked up on them, along with the tools to change them.

I determined right then that I would suspend daylight savings time. Since I was now king, it would be like that forevermore.

I thought about flying as I walked through the airport. I got my private pilot license a number of years after I started training. I worked hard for a long time to get it.

Planes sat all over the tarmac; I could take anything I wished. But if I crashed, I had no hope of rescue. That was enough to keep me on the ground for the time being.

Underneath the terminals sat a series of maintenance shops with all kinds of tools. With a large bus and a fleet of trucks to maintain, I could use a high quality set of impact wrenches and an air compressor to drive them. Those would surely be waiting for me down below.

I cut a lock to get through the nearest gate, which put me underneath the jet ways. I strolled until I found the tools I wanted. I took three full sets and a nice trailer to carry them.

Everyday was like Christmas. The presents were waiting for me everywhere I went.

I considered the value of all the stuff I had confiscated in two weeks. The propane, trucks and gear alone were worth well over $7 million. The motor home would go for over $600,000. The houseboat goes for over $300,000. My fleet of trailers, trucks, tractor trailers and cars were another $ 3 million. Throw in a new house, solar equipment, foodstuffs, household goods, tools, generators and everything else and I was worth over $11 million. I'd have a hard time convincing a judge that any of it was mine, but I had it now and possession is nine-tenths of the law.

How does it feel to be a multi-millionaire, I asked myself? Not bad, all in all was my answer.

I laughed. For the first time in two weeks, I liked laughing. It made me feel alive. I needed to find other opportunities to make myself laugh.

After everything was packed and secure, I headed home, which was near OIA, to see how the place fared without me. On the way home, I drove through Disney World to see what I could see.

Nothing had changed.

Back at home, I checked out the house. All was fine, so I drove to a nearby grocery for something to eat. That gave me a chance to run her van a little and make sure it was in good condition.

Once I settled on lunch and warmed it up on the gas grill, I rechecked all the doors, windows, storm covers and attic for possible leaks. Satisfied that everything was as I had left it, I closed up the house and headed for Disney World. I decided at the last minute to take my car. It would get a good run and I could drive the car into places the Excursion couldn't go.


Walt Disney World sits on over 400,000 acres of swamp near Kissimmee. It was the biggest tourist destination in history, with over 10,000,000 visitors a year. But now, there was exactly one visitor.

I drove first to the Magic Kingdom, driving right down Main Street USA. That was a thrill. Each time we had walked the parks, Main Street was always so crowded.

The source of this story is Finestories

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close