1, 2, 3, Flip

By: Lennylena

He sucked in a breath before placing a card on the table. thwump. “I got you now, baby.”

His slurring words hung in the air with a southern drawl. Although born and raised above the 36°30 parallel, Kieran had always been one to add an extra flourish.

“Nah, no way.” I shook my head, throwing down a card of my own.

In truth, I’d never played go fish before, and I was starting to think Kieran didn’t know the rules either. Like most nights, we’d drank ourselves practically stupid, and yet I was conscious enough to consider each move. Whether that was a blessing or a curse usually depended on how much I’d bet on the match. But today was different. 

“Go fish!” Kieran smacked a handful of cards on the table with a hoot. “Well I’ll be, another win for little ol’ me.”

I reached for the instructions set, grumbling,“That cannot be how this works.”

But Kieran only grinned, eyes crinkling with his big smile. “Aw, Lucky, don’t be a sore loser.”

A sore loser? Me? “I think you’re just scared you’ll never really beat me, Kieran,” I lengthened his name as it left my mouth, catching his drooping eyes.

Kieran normally would have taken the bait, but today was different. He receded, slumping into the chair. Silently picking up loose cards that’d exploded in his ‘victory’.

“Ah, shit.” I shut my eyes, “I’m sorry, that was too far.” 

I’d gotten into a habit of speaking first and apologizing later, and Kieran understood that for the most part. We’d grown much closer over the past few months. Maybe even before that, when we’d first made a tradition of ‘self-care’ game nights. There was a certain comfort in board games. The perfect release. Rules were laid out and players abided by them. None of that otherworldly nonsense. 

The real world was always more of a mess.

“No need, my friend,” Kieran’s signature smirk had reappeared like the sun on a cloudy day. “Today is one of them days of celebration!”

He’d always been stronger than me. “If you say so,” I managed.

Curls tucked behind drooping ears, Kieran poured a dose of his mixture into our glasses. “Shot time, Lucky.”

I received the cup with both hands, trying my best not to spill. The glass was murky, a concoction of rum and other ingredients I couldn’t name.

Kieran stared at me with his fuzzy eyes. I was the type of drunk who never lost connection with my thought processes. Even if the world had gotten wobbly, I would still have some semblance of reality. In my youth, I’d loved it. But now, it made everything more difficult.

“Sawh-lud.” Kieran raised his glass sharply, brown eyes not leaving my own.

“Kieran,” I paused, staring back to my glass, “I think I want to play another game.”

Lowering his hand, the concoction returned to the table. Thwump. “Whate’er you want, Lucky,” He smiled, “I suppose I got one more victory left in me tonight.”

“Oh, please,” I chuckled, nobody made me laugh like Kieran, “As if.”

He pulled a toothpick from his chest pocket, running it between his fingers before sticking it between his lips. His hands moved with a finesse that always caught my eye, I could never look away.

“Well, how ‘bout we play a game of war then.” He spoke with a half shut mouth, cradling the toothpick’s perch.

“I’m game.”

He pulled the cards into a single deck, shuffling furiously. Pleased with his work, Kieran dealt the cards. He threw half the deck my way periodically. I caught the couple of cards that flew into the air, forcing them into a single deck. “You ready?” He grinned.

I nodded sharply, massaging the deck in my hands. “1, 2, 3!”

We flipped our top cards at the same time.

“Ah-ha!” I cackled, taking my jack and Kieran’s 10 into the bottom of my stack.

“I should’ve known,” he shook his head, “Lucky’s got beginner’s luck.”  

“How could anyone possibly be a beginner at war?” I cackled, the laugh taking over my whole chest.

He shrugged and prepared for the next battle. 1, 2, 3. We flipped our cards again and again. Shrieking in celebration whenever we came out on top. Coupled with an unhealthy amount of shit talk for a game of chance.

1, 2, 3. Flip.

It seemed like it would never end. Just when either of us had the upper hand, we’d lose a king or even an ace. But I loved it, man, I could just stay here forever. 

Thwump. But it wasn’t possible.

Initially I’d hated the dark cellar, with its minimal light and damp walls, but now I was sure I would miss it. Thwump. The sounds from above had grown louder. But the alcohol and game of war had almost numbed the worries from my mind.

1, 2, 3, Flip.

To think, we’d spent so much time making sure it was secure, and here we were— on the verge of a breach. Kieran stared at the drop ladder from the ceiling. Thwump. 

The sound of creaking metal and gnashing teeth echoed from the hollow passageway. I realized I’d never actually seen one. When the vintage radio still worked, we sat attuned to the broadcasts, and how they described them.

Dripping flesh, insatiable hunger, the whole shebang. I could imagine the soulless eyes, what remained of the faces torn from humanity to creaturedom.

Now, the radio had long been reduced to mere crackling, which had become the background music for our every day.

They weren’t sure how it started, a laboratory, an alien virus from a meteor from deep space. Whatever, it didn’t matter in the end.

Kieran’s head dipped as the banging grew louder. Had the creatures picked through the remnants of society above ground? Did they sense the minimal moments of happiness held underneath?

I laced shaking fingers around the glass, “Maybe it is shot time.”

A wide-eyed Kieran stared into my eyes as his deck returned to the table. With hands wrapped so tightly around the mixture,  his knuckles turned white.

Thwump. The enter room shook. 

“Sounds like it.” 

Thwump. Chips of paint fell from above, but it didn’t matter. The adjustable ceiling light swung from its hold.

In silence we lifted the glasses. Out of habit our eyes met. There was a curse for those who cheers-ed without eye contact, seven years of bad sex. It didn’t exactly matter now, but there was some comfort in familiarity. Kieran’s brown pupils teemed with tears, undoubtedly mirroring my own. This was it. The one way ticket.

“Sawh-lud” Kieran clinked his glass against mine, waiting for my reply.

“It’s pronounced, sah-lud,” I smiled, feeling the tears on my cheeks, “I’d meant to correct you.”

Thwump.

He smiled in return. As we raised the glasses to our lips, our eyes never parted. 

“1, 2, 3!” I took in one last breath before downing the entire glass.

Kieran hit the ground before I did. He’d hated the damp darkness more than me, but now through my heavy eyes I studied the angles his form took as he rested onto the ground. A choking cough rose from my throat. This had been the only option.

Hazy eyes could barely blink, my skin meeting the dewy surface of the ground. The pressure in my chest amplified, like someone had sat themselves down. I’d taken the table with me as I’d fallen. 

Soggy cards thrown about the floor.

I didn’t try to counter the darkness that took its hold over my eyes. I allowed the descending thumps and groaning to dwindle into the crackling radio background.

With the last remaining strength in my body, I forced my free hand forward, latching onto the mass that used to be my closest companion. I held onto his arm as tightly as I could, the concoction taking over the rest of my mind. The hanging light blinked to darkness as we deteriorated to nothingness.

posted 2.5.2025