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Thirteen

“You don’t deserve to be here,” Liz, a hippy from Liverpool, spat on the loafers on a suited man. “We should just throw you out there to die, Gates.”
Bill shrunk a little where he was sitting as she whispered, “Capitalist scum.”

“Liz.” Jeremiah was firm with his new-found flock. Maybe he could bring Christ into this last group on Earth. He looked around at the mismatched crew about him. “Who would like to join me in prayer?”
Karen pulled her baby close to her. “You’re not a Catholic, are you?” Worry was etched into the contours of her face.
“No. Methodist.”
“Then okay,” she sat beside the preacher. “I just won’t let a pervert touch my child.”

“I’ll join you,” a lanky man in a pinstriped suit came and sat on Jeremiah’s left.
“Good, then we’ll beg-”

He was interrupted by a shabby Indian man’s scream. The skinny man ran to him. “Don’t worry, I’m a Doctor… heart attack… he’s gone. But…but this was induced, not natural.”

Thirteen left on Planet Earth.

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