Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse: A Novel
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Mortimer Tate was a recently divorced insurance salesman when he holed up in a cave on top of a mountain in Tennessee and rode out the end of the world. Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse begins nine years later, when he emerges into a bizarre landscape filled with hollow reminders of an America that no longer exists. The highways are lined with abandoned automobiles; electricity is generated by indentured servants pedaling stationary bicycles. What little civilization remains revolves around Joey Armageddon's Sassy A-Go-Go strip clubs, where the beer is cold, the lap dancers are hot, and the bouncers are armed with M16s.
Accompanied by his cowboy sidekick Buffalo Bill, the gorgeous stripper Sheila, and the mountain man Ted, Mortimer journeys to the lost city of Atlanta -- and a showdown that might determine the fate of humanity.
right," Paul said. "You see? They don't want us to mutiny." "Why did you attack the Joey Armageddon's in Cleveland?" "I don't know," Paul said. "They said attack, so we attacked." "Who gives the orders?" Paul said, "The company captains give the orders to the unit leaders. I just do what I'm told." "I mean the head guy. Who's in charge of the whole deal?" "Nobody knows." "He's lying." Sheila thrust the gun back at him. "I'm just a grunt." Paul cast a pleading look at Mortimer. "You got to
Lars said. "Who's Craven?" "Made his money in cotton and iron before the Civil War. Or maybe after. I'm no historian." Lars parked the cart. James climbed out of the backseat, stretched and lit a cigar. "Where'd he get that?" "We get tobacco shipped from Virginia," Lars explained. "Now I must ask you to go inside, sir." "In there?" Mortimer jerked a thumb at Cravens House. "Those are my instructions, sir. James and I are to wait here." "Thanks for the ride." He entered the house, stood
perfect. I want to hear if you have concerns." "I don't understand why a go-go club," Mortimer said. "If you're setting out to save civilization, or build some kind of new civilization, then why not...well...anything but a titty bar?" Armageddon cracked up laughing, genuinely amused. "Hell, man, you think I started all this to save the world? Hell, no. It was an accident. And it's not a titty bar. It's a go-go club. It might not make any difference to you, but it's an important distinction to
that much food and booze and doesn't eat and drink it. What? You just like lugging it around?" He brought his other fist down hard, knocked Mortimer's head around. Mortimer blinked, colored lights dancing in front of his eyes and a hot buzz in his ears. He tried to curl into a ball, but the Beast still held him fast. "Where'd you get it? Someplace close, right?" Mortimer shook his head. The Beast punched again, and Mortimer felt his lips flatten against his teeth, skin ripping. He spit blood,
harder you fought to live, the more obligated you felt to live for something. He looked at the dangling wires, headphones, MP3 players, computer gadgets. Many were corroded, covered in bird poop. The new world willow had been here awhile. Maybe years. Maybe the artist was dead now. The willow might have been the last thing he ever did. "I used to have an iPod," Bill said around a tough chunk of jerky. "I used to love to download songs from the Internet. Man, I loved Christina Aguilera. And