Max.

"This is a national emergency. Important details will follow. Do not fall asleep. Do not fall asleep."

The words are sudden and ominous and catch Max off-guard, which is hard for anything except his parents to do. He blinks at the television screen, wondering what the hell was going on, and clicks the remote several times as he attempts to get rid of the random message. It didn't work. Whatever it is, it's being broadcast on every single channel.

Every other ten year old is probably asleep. Had it not been for his shitty insomnia, Max would have been sleeping, too.

With a frustrated grunt, Max slides off the couch and switches the television off. It's most likely a hoax, he rationalises, as he begins to head up the stairs. What else could it possibly be? He steps as quietly as he can along the landing, moving towards his bedroom, which is beyond the room his parents share. Their door is wide open when Max passes it by and he can see them sleeping soundly. If they catch him up at this time (again), he knows they'll be more than pissed.

A small jump helps him to avoid the creaky floorboard. He pushes open the door to his own room slowly, wincing as it let out a squeal. Everything in their house is old and seems to want him to get in trouble.

Max listens carefully for any sort of sign that the noise woke his parents. There's none. A small sigh of relief escapes Max before he continues his adventure to bed. It's all going wonderfully, until he manages to trip over a pile of clothes he meant to tidy up days ago. He lets out a sharp yelp and crashes to the floor and knows his parents must be awake now.

He falls silent, listening carefully. There's no furious shout. In fact, he can't even hear his parents beginning to stir. No matter how little his parents may care about him, he knows it's impossible they're still asleep. The amount of noise he'd created had probably been enough to wake the dead.

It's only then that he realises he hasn't heard his father's very distinct snore since he arrived upstairs.

"Do not fall asleep. Do not fall asleep."

Suddenly, the words echo around his head again. Max's mouth goes dry and he pulls himself to his feet. Coldness seeps through his entire body, despite the fact he has his hoodie on. His knees and hands aching, he quietly leaves his room and heads back towards his parents'. This time, he doesn't bother to avoid the creaky floorboard. There's still no sound from the only other bedroom in the house.

"Mom? Dad?" Max whispers into the darkness, daring to step into their room.

Nothing.

He switches on the light, any fear of being caught awake disappearing. His eyes are immediately glued to the bed. Both of his parents are there, lying still. Too still.

Max's stomach swoops. He nears the bed and reaches out, hesitantly, to touch his mother. Her skin is still warm, but her chest doesn't move. All he can do is blink as he realises they're both dead, gone. They've finally managed to leave him behind, like they've tried so hard to for the last ten years.

Numbness fills him. He knows they didn't give a shit about him, and that in return he probably shouldn't give a shit about them, but he's ten and they're still his parents and it hurts, although it hurts him a lot less than it likely would anyone else He doesn't know what the hell is going on, or why the fuck sleeping is apparently causing people to die, but more importantly, he isn't sure what he's meant to do now.

He contemplates going to bed and letting it be over with.

Instead, he finds himself trotting back downstairs. He switches the TV back on. The same message is still playing on repeat and Max swallows before switching the television off again. He knows now that if he wants to stay alive, he needs to stay awake. He figures that before he sleeps, he may as well have some fun.

Fun is harder to have when all the television will play is one message. Max manages to occupy himself with others things, including his dad's smartphone. There are plenty of interesting apps on it, as well as some dirty images Max is certain the man never intended for anybody to see. He cackles the entire time he's looking through the things, amazed at just how filthy his father was. His mother's phone is similar, which somehow doesn't shock him. It's a testimony to how loveless their marriage was. Neither of them have pictures of Max on their phone; that's a testimony to how little they cared about him.

Guilt begins to gnaw at him eventually and he's soon putting the phones away again. The choices his parents made aren't his fault, yet even he, as jaded as he is, can't help but feel as if he should have some respect for the dead. They're only upstairs after all.

The sun begins to rise before long and Max realises he probably can't stay in the house. Boredom is a sure path to sleep. Already, he's beginning to feel tired. He's functioning on a handful of hours of sleep from the previous day, and even for him, that's not enough. Before he leaves the house, he makes himself the strongest cup of coffee possible, stronger than what he has before leaving for school in the morning. Having breakfast feels pointless, but he does anyway. The cereal tastes like sugary cardboard.

Outside of the house is as quiet as the inside. There are cars sitting on driveways, the usual bustle of the morning nowhere to be seen. It's really beginning to sink in that this is real, that sleep has actually managed to kill people.

For a while, Max walks. He isn't sure where he's going, and knows he's probably wasting a lot of energy, but if he's moving, he can't fall asleep. He finds a bike outside of somebody's house, small enough for him to use, and begins to ride that instead of walking. Each and every street is similar to his own, silent and still, with not a single other soul appearing to be awake.

Occasionally, he breaks into a house to steal another cup of coffee. He finds himself becoming more tired as the day passes by, but soldiers on. It'd be too easy to lie down and fall asleep. He wants to do something better than his parents did, even if it's only surviving.

It's been more than a day since the 'Sleep Apocalypse' occurred. A couple of times, Max has come close to bumping into other people, but each time, he's hid – some people look insane already, a wild look in their eyes, the type of look that comes with losing everything, but mainly from sleep deprivation.

He's pedalling across the road when out of nowhere, a car comes hurtling towards him.

'Hurtling' is an extreme exaggeration. Whoever is driving is still adhering to speed limits, apparently, even though there's literally nobody else on the road. It just feels like the car is speeding towards him because Max doesn't realise it's there until it's almost on top of him.

"Fucking hell," Max mutters, his heart pounding and his eyes wide as he stared at the ugly car that's just screeched to a halt inches from him.

"Oh my gosh!" the man who was driving exclaims as he began to climb out of the vehicle, a panicked look on his face. "I'm so, so sorry," he says, hurrying over to Max. The man looks ridiculous, like some overgrown kid, wearing a green top with a tree of all things on it, with some sort of brown waistcoat over the top of that and shorts that almost reach his knees. Even stupider than that, he has white and blue socks on, which also nearly extend to his knees. Worst of all is the bright yellow bandanna tied around his neck.

Max grunts in response, ready to simply pedal away again. But then long fingers wrap around his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. "What the fuck are you doing?" he snaps as the man starts fussing around him, as if checking him over.

"Making sure I didn't injure you!" the man exclaims, his own eyes wide. "I nearly hit you with my car!"

An exasperated sigh escapes Max's lips. "'Nearly' being the key word there. I'm fine," he huffs, tugging his arm away from the man's grip. "Get back in your car and leave me the fuck alone." He's scowling deeply as he begins to push down on the pedals of the bike again to get away from the man who is far too energetic for somebody who can't have slept in at least a day.

"Wait!" the man calls after him, and Max sighs again, slowly coming to a stop. The man rushes after him. "Where are you going?" he asks, stopping a couple of feet behind Max.

Max doesn't turn around to face him. "Wherever the fuck I feel like going," he answers.

There's a pause. "There's a place I know that's tucked away – my friend says people can sleep there," the man tells him. "If you want, you could – you could come with me? A kid your age shouldn't be out alone in all of this."

Max snorts. "Come with you?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at the man. "Sorry, but getting in a car with a strange, old man, is the number one thing kids my age aren't supposed to do."

He's tired, though, and the idea of sleeping is tempting. For whatever reason, he still hasn't begun to pedal away again.

"My name's David," the man – David – tells him. He gives Max a small smile. "I hope you find wherever it is you want to go," he says, and then he turns around and heads back towards his car. Max watches him the entire time, wondering if what the man said could actually hold any truth.

He figures if it all goes wrong, he can always fall asleep. He doesn't have anything to lose.

"I'm Max," he blurts, climbing off his bike. David turns around and gives him another smile. "But any funny business and I'm not going anywhere with you," he warns, letting the bike fall to the ground before following after David. He pulls open the passenger side door and climbs in, David doing the same on the opposite side of the car.

"Somebody your height really ought to sit in the back -" David starts, an anxious expression on his face.

"Shut the fuck up," Max snaps, cutting the other man off. "What are the police going to do, arrest you? They're all dead, idiot."

That does shut David up.

David starts the car engine and manoeuvres around the bike Max abandoned. "This is going to be the best little road trip," he announces, beaming. Max can only scowl, staring sullenly out of the car window.

This is the worst road trip Max has ever been on.

"Sing it with me! OH! There's a place -"

"David!" Max snarls, whipping his head around to glare at him. "If I have to hear your fucking camp song one more fucking time, I'll grab the steering wheel and smash us into a tree," he snaps.

Instantly, David falls silent. "I'm sorry, Max. I thought some tunes would help boost our spirits," he says eventually, glancing down at the furious child. "The camp is still a while away. Is there anything else you'd like to sing?" he asks and the fact he actually sounds hopeful makes Max feel sick. He has no idea how one man can be so happy.

"No, I don't want to sing anything," Max says, turning again to glare out of the window again. "I don't want my spiritsboosted. Everyone in the world is dead. Let me be fucking miserable."

"Language," David admonishes, the way he has for the last few hours. Who the fuck does this guy think he is, Max can't help but wonder, because David has absolutely no right to boss him around as if he's some sort of parentto him.

They fall into an uncomfortable silence, the only sound that's audible being the world whizzing by the windows and their own breathing.

Max leans his head against the window. The way it vibrates isn't exactly pleasant and will probably give him a headache before long, yet he's tired enough to think of it as a pillow. He realises, then, that it's been a while since he's had any coffee. He doesn't lift his head to tell David that, though. Hell, David would probably tell him how unhealthy it was for somebody his age to drink coffee.

"Max," David says, his voice loud and sharp, and Max jolts upright. He hadn't even realised his eyes had slipped shut. He glances towards David, only to see the other man looking at him with concern.

He almost rolls his eyes. This man has known him what, four hours? Why the fuck does he have any concern for whether Max stays awake?

There's no doubt his parents wouldn't have cared, if they'd survived the initial event.

"Singing would keep us distracted from sleeping, too," David points out, still giving him that concerned look. "Whatever you want to sing, Max, we can sing it," he encourages, reaching to nudge him slightly, but Max only shakes his head.

"I hate singing," he says. It's not entirely true, but he doesn't have the energy to entertain David.

David looks disappointed. "That's fine," he says. "We should talk, at least. How come you're on your own?" he asks, although he does so gently.

"Way to jump in at the deep end," Max mutters anyway, rolling his eyes. "I sneaked downstairs to watch TV when it happened, 'cause I couldn't sleep. My parents were asleep," he tells David, shrugging, like it's no big deal. It isn't that big of a deal to him, but apparently it is to David. His expression suddenly horrified. "That can't be that shocking, David, why else would a ten year old be on his own?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"I – I suppose I hoped your story was a little happier than that," David admits. "I'm so sorry, Max. That's awful."

Max shrugs again. "It's fine. My parents didn't care about me, anyway," he says.

That only makes David look more distressed. "Max, I'm sure that's not true -" he starts.

"David, stop. They didn't, okay? It's fine. They're gone now, anyway."

After that, they talk about things they like instead of why they're alone. It isn't as awful as Max expects it to be.

Eventually, they pull up at a pharmacy.

"I'm sorry, Max. I'm exhausted," David tells him, biting his lip as he switches the car's engine off. He hasn't given anything away – actually, he looks like he still has as much energy as he did when he picked Max up. He glances towards the pharmacy. "I'm going to get some – some things, to help me stay awake," he explains, as if Max won't know he's talking about drugs. David looks ashamed to admit that's what he's resorting to.

Max considers pretending David has succeeded in preserving his innocence, then decides against it. "I think I'll probably need some drugs too," he says, knowing he probably wouldn't survive the trip otherwise.

David opens his mouth, probably to complain, but then shuts it again. "Yeah. Okay," he says, upset flashing across his face. He pushes open the car door and climbs out.

Of course, Max does the same.

"What are you doing?" David asks, confused.

"You can't go in there alone, there could be somewhere crazy in there. I can't stay out here alone, I might fall asleep," Max tells him, his eyebrows raising briefly. "Obviously, the sensible option is for me to come with you inside."

David nods his head. "Alright," he says, moving towards the pharmacy.

Max follows.

Whatever it is they take, it keeps them awake. Any previous care David had for laws disappears. They drive fast, they drive erratically, and David doesn't mention once that Max is too short to be sitting in the front seat. In return, Max grins and sings along with David, which only makes him even happier. It's fun and they have energy drinks and more drugs sitting in the back of the car, ready for when they need them.

"I'm a camp counsellor, at the place we're going to," David announces, loud and proud and random as they speed down a highway. It's freakishly empty but neither of them comments on that.

Max raises his eyebrows. "I figured," he says dryly. It wasn't difficult to work out. Nobody except a camp counsellor would know the song of a camp. And nobody except a camp counsellor would dress like such a moron willingly.

David hums. "Today was going to be the first day of camp," he says, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Great," Max says, unsure of what else he could possibly say.

"I think you'll like it there. I'll be able to show you everything we have," David says, bouncing in his seat. He isn't concentrating on the road nearly as much as he should be, his eyes darting around, but Max isn't about to send him into a panic. It's not as if anybody else is on the road, anyhow.

"I don't really like it in many places," Max admits, shrugging. "If I'd ever went to your camp, I probably would've spent most of my time trying to escape."

Rather than scolding him, David laughs. "Don't be ridiculous. You'd have loved it, if you'd been attending like a normal person," he tells him. "Not during the..." He gestures vaguely. "I don't know. What have you been calling it, again?"

Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fondness in it. "Sleep Apocalypse," he says.

"Yes. Sleep Apocalypse," David repeats, nodding. "There's a whole range activities at Camp Campbell. You could've done anything. I don't suppose there's many people your age left now, to attend any sort of camp," he says, far more casually than he would have only a few hours ago.

A soft snort left Max. "Say it like it is, why don't you," he comments.

"Sorry," David says instantly, sounding too cheery to be truly sorry at all.

This time, the silence they fall into isn't an uncomfortable one. It's the opposite, actually, because they're both vibrating from all the drugs they've taken.

It doesn't take long before they're both singing again, the windows down and their voices as loud as they can make them. The only sad part, to Max, is that this is the happiest he can remember feeling – and that he feels happier with a stranger than he ever did with his parents, not that he would dare to tell David that.

It's midday and the third day of the Sleep Apocalypse when they arrive at Camp Campbell.

"That says Camp Camp," Max states bluntly as they pass under the sign that declares exactly that. The drugs wore off a little while ago and he feels like shit, but David insisted that they shouldn't take any more, not when they were so close to safety. "Are you really sure we can sleep here?" he asks, his forehead creased with doubt.

David lets out an indignant huff. "Obviously, Max, the 'bell' part fell off," he says as they drive up the dusty road, towards a bunch of log cabins.

"You made it sound like this place was the best camp around. They can't even afford to fix a stupid sign!" Max snickers, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter, his eyes squeezed shut in amusement. "God, it's like you were trying to upsell to me!"

The weak splutters of protest David tries to get out only make Max cackle more. "It really is amazing!" he finally manages to say.

"Oh my God, do you actually love this place?" Max asks, blinking open watering eyes to peer at David. They pull to a stop and Max turns to look at the buildings in front of them, each one looking rather dilapidated. "That's even worse. You were going to let children come to this? It looks like a death trap!" he exclaims. As he climbs out of the car, he's still chuckling with amusement.

There's an offended expression on David's face as he copies Max's movements. "You don't have to laugh quite so much, we all have things we might overrate slightly -"

That only eggs Max's laughter on. "Slightly!" he echoes, dropping to the ground and rolling around, clutching his stomach as he laughs. "Slightly!" he says again, raising one hand to wipe at watering eyes.

"Davey!" a loud voice suddenly booms, and Max is on his feet in an instant. "You made it!"

"Max," David says, gesturing to the man who is standing in front of them. He's beaming up at him as though he's Santa Claus. "This is Cameron Campbell, the owner of Camp Campbell. It's great to see you alive and well, sir!" he chirps, offering a hand to Campbell. "This is Max. I found him on my way here," he explains, shaking Campbell's hand with more enthusiasm than necessary.

"Hey," Max greets, his hands tucked securely in the pockets of his blue hoodie. He pulled one out, only to give a small half-wave.

"Hello, Max!" Campbell booms, grinning down at him. "You've certainly come to the right place to outlast this whole drama," he says, in what Max assumes is meant to be a reassuring voice. "There aren't that many of us. There's Gwen, of course, and then some other guy – no idea who he is, he just showed up," Campbell chuckles, as if that's perfectly normal.

"My name is Daniel," says Daniel, suddenly stepping out of what seemed like nowhere. David can't help the scream of shock that he lets out, caught by surprise by the other man's presence. What shocks Max more is the uncanny resemblance Daniel has to David. His entire outfit is pure white and his blond hair matches it. "I came to sleep," he tells them, his head tilting to a freaky angle and a wide smile remaining fixed on his face.

The woman who steps out from behind him is much less creepy. "Ignore him," she says, shaking her head. "I do. Hi, Max," she says. "Recruiting campers even during the apocalypse, David?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Heh. Something like that," David answers, reaching to ruffle Max's hair even as he scowls and ducks to avoid his hand.

"Are you sure we can sleep here?" Max asks, his voice smaller and quieter than he was hoping it would be. Both Campbell and Daniel seem...off. He isn't sure he wants to really trust anybody except David, as ridiculous as that is. He's only known David for a day, but Max is sleep deprived and the two of them have spent a long time in close proximity to one another.

They're in a tent together, which secretly, Max is quite glad of. It's cosy and means they're away from everyone else, everyone Max doesn't trust.

The smile David gives him is small and tired, but reassuring. "Yes, Max," he says. "We can definitely sleep here. Mr Campbell would never lie to me." His voice is sincere and Max can't help the pang of pity he feels for David and how naive he seems. At ten, Max can already see the dollar signs that sit in Campbell's eyes.

"How does it even work?" Max asks. They're lying on opposite sides of the tent, on campbeds that are only inches from the ground, tucked in sleeping bags that are the same green as David's top.

"Gwen says that Mr Campbell has a machine. Something to do with radiation," David hums. He shrugs. "It's too much science for me, but she says it works. So does Daniel," he adds, but he wrinkles his nose seconds later. Apparently, Max isn't the only one who finds the man a bit odd.

"Oh, well, if Daniel says it works, it must be true," Max mutters. "And I'm going to sleep at the cost of growing an extra limb. Wonderful."

"Max. We mustn't judge others by appearances," David scolds, but he's still smiling tiredly at him, and too exhausted to counter his second remark.

"But we can judge them by their creepy behaviour."

"Maybe he's just a bit...different," David tries, but Max only snorts in response and closes his eyes. David doesn't try to convince him otherwise. "Goodnight, Max," he murmurs, his own eyes shutting of their own accord.

Max cracks open one eye as David's snores quickly begin to fill the tent. "Night, David," he murmurs back, when he's sure the other man won't hear him and that he isn't dead, either. It's reassuring and only makes him trust David more, knowing he's been brought somewhere truly safe.

Before long, Max is asleep too, dreaming of a happier life where a parent wearing David's face cares for him.

They actually wake up in the morning. Max can sense that his body hasn't quite recovered from going so long without sleep, but he wakes up anyway and can't force himself to fall back asleep. David makes him breakfast and they eat quietly together. When they finish, David insists they go out and take a proper look at the camp, because they'd both been far too tired to do so the previous day.

"This is the lake," David tells him, puffing his chest out as he gestures to the large expanse of water. "We do all sorts out here. Fishing, boating, even swimming until we found out the water was polluted." He beams down at Max, who has his hands tucked in his hoodie, like usual, and an unimpressed look on his face.

"Truly amazing. I can see why all the kids would be clamming to come here," Max says, letting his disinterest shine through.

David isn't even slightly deterred. "I can sense you mocking me, Max, but just you wait until I show you all the amazing things campers have knitted over the years," he says, clasping his hands together as if that's the most incredible thing he's ever said. "You'll love it."

Max is fairly certain he won't love it, but begrudgingly follows David back towards the cabins.

He doesn't hate the camp as much as he expected to, but it isn't amazing, and David's enthusiasm and energy is still pretty disgusting. It'd probably be a lot better if there were other children around, especially if those children actually wanted to be enthused.

"See, look at this blanket one of my campers last year made – isn't it lovely?" David gushes, holding the ugly, blue blanket aloft. They're inside a cabin now, which is apparently used for a range of activities. When Max shrugs, a flicker of disappointment flashes over David's face, but he paints over it with a grin before Max can think too much into it and puts the blanket back in the box he'd tugged it out of.

David carries on talking and starts pulling out a whole load of different things that Max isn't interested in. Max's gaze travels to the window, in time to see Daniel staring in at them. A shiver runs down his spine and he turns to tell David, but by the time he glances back, Daniel is gone.

Frowning, Max gives himself a shake. It was probably your imagination, he figures, sleep deprivation.

"Shall we go and look at the archery equipment?" David asks, none the wiser.

All Max can do is nod. He keeps closer to David, certain he could sometimes see Daniel watching them out of the corner of his eye.

To distract himself, he actually starts paying attention to what David is saying.

That night, David leaves him in the tent so that he can have a proper catch up with Gwen. It's too quiet and even though Max is exhausted, insomnia manages to strike him again.

He sighs up at the ceiling of the tent before slipping out of bed. The sound of nature outside – crickets and whatnot clicking away – almost tempts him to stay within the tent, but there's nothing to do there. He needs something to occupy himself with.

Carefully, Max unzips the tent and steps outside. It's a chilly night, but he still has his hoodie on and his hands instantly find the familiar front pocket.

In the distant, he can see the light of the campfire David must be sat at with Gwen. Max goes in the opposite direction, figuring it's probably best if he doesn't disturb the two of them. He isn't exactly sure what they are – whether they're a thing or if they're just two camp counsellors surviving the Sleep Apocalypse – but it's better, he decides, to leave them to whatever it is they're doing.

The trees are less friendly at night, he quickly realises. A Max who isn't exhausted would never be afraid of something as simple as the dark, but now he is. He swallows hard as he steps further into the trees. It isn't long before he stops and makes the decision to turn back.

As he turns, he hears a twig snap behind him.

I'm in a fucking cliché movie, he realises at the same moment.

"Hello, Max."

Daniel's voice is chilling. It causes Max to shudder.

He's ready to run. Daniel's hand clamps down on his arm and he tuts as he grips onto Max, squeezing so hard it hurts.

"Let me go," Max says, as firmly as he can. He glares up at Daniel, as if his words would have more impact that way. "I said let me go!" he shouts, wriggling hard. Daniel's grip is much harder than David's was, the first day they met.

This grip is intended to do harm.

He only catches a glimpse of the knife before it plunges into his shoulder. It's the worst pain Max has ever felt and he screams as the knife goes in, desperately writhing in Daniel's tight hold. "Let me go, let me go," he manages to say, teeth gritted against the pain.

The sound of running footsteps drags him from his daze of white-hot pain. He isn't entirely sure what's happening, but suddenly the knife is yanked from his shoulder and Daniel is dropping him to the floor. Blindly, Max reaches to clamp his hand against the wound which is bleeding freely, dampening his small hand. His knees are quickly moistened by the soil beneath them. Beyond the pain, he can tell there's a scuffle going on, but he can't even begin to guess who is involved.

"Max – Max, it's okay, I've got you," he hears David saying, eventually, and then there's the sound of him kneeling down next to him.

The voice is so familiar and safe, Max almost cries with relief.