Daniel Martinez — Rosa Drive, Central Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-01: Rosa Drive consisted of a long gravel driveway which cut an uneven… more line between two tall, opposing fields of weeds. Daniel hated it on sight. He stared down the driveway from behind Atlanta’s leg. What he saw was a wicked thing, unyielding and harsh in its appearance. Even his considerable imagination couldn’t picture it as having once been green or farmable. His sentiments were reinforced when an October gust set the wilted corn stalks swaying within their weed-coffins in a way that was haunting.
Tugging on Altana’s overcoat, Daniel whimpered. “Please,” he said up to her. “I don’t like it.” And, in Daniel’s opinion, it didn’t like him either—he could sense its contempt for him as well as if it had a sign that explicitly (and vulgarly) said so. Not only that, he could just imagine the things it harbored for this very instant: creatures with claws perfect for cutting … [view original content]
Daniel Martinez — Rosa Drive, Central Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-01: Rosa Drive consisted of a long gravel driveway which cut an uneven… more line between two tall, opposing fields of weeds. Daniel hated it on sight. He stared down the driveway from behind Atlanta’s leg. What he saw was a wicked thing, unyielding and harsh in its appearance. Even his considerable imagination couldn’t picture it as having once been green or farmable. His sentiments were reinforced when an October gust set the wilted corn stalks swaying within their weed-coffins in a way that was haunting.
Tugging on Altana’s overcoat, Daniel whimpered. “Please,” he said up to her. “I don’t like it.” And, in Daniel’s opinion, it didn’t like him either—he could sense its contempt for him as well as if it had a sign that explicitly (and vulgarly) said so. Not only that, he could just imagine the things it harbored for this very instant: creatures with claws perfect for cutting … [view original content]
That would be tricky lol, but that definitely does strike my interest as well. I hope you don't mind if I put it in the idea bin. The big question is whether to use the real president (the apocalypse very loosely began in 2003 here, like the comics, I believe, which would make it George W. Bush) or use a made up president.
Wait, the apocalypse started in 2003 in the story? That is a detail I have seriously not seen so far. This changes... well, not much, but it is a more than interesting detail. Technically, that would mean Bush as the president, although he is one of the few presidents I could actually see not surviving the apocalypse XD I mean, you could use him if you feel confident with using a real existing person in the story, although I guess nobody would mind if you decide to use a president you created for the story. A great majority of shows does it that way.
The answer is possibly. I didn't put too much time into planning this possibility because the opposite choice was chosen. Had Domenick and Tom not been there to help, things would have been worse for those in the pickup bed. If it had been coupled with a worse option for what do with Danny's bite, let's say, the full amputation option, the causalities could have been worse or different.
Oh, this is bad, we really dodged a bullet there. Twice actually. I mean, this was far from a happy ending to the chapter, but I am oddly relieved how much loss we managed to avert with our choices here. This is pretty nice. Now we only need to pick even more carefully later on.
Okay, this completely slipped my mind: there would have been additional choices on the bridge scene (following Violet's inclusion) that would have affected who lived from that group, including Violet. Again, I'm afraid I didn't get that far in planning this particular outcome since it got sectioned off so quickly, so I can't provide more context, unfortunately.
Oh, I see. This is surely interesting, although it brings up another question here: Does this mean that the other group could have had casualties as well if we would have picked Violet to accompany the trio? Or would they have been generally save if we would have decided to split up?
One would think that a man such as the president has actually the best chances of them all to survive the apocalypse.
That would be … moretricky lol, but that definitely does strike my interest as well. I hope you don't mind if I put it in the idea bin. The big question is whether to use the real president (the apocalypse very loosely began in 2003 here, like the comics, I believe, which would make it George W. Bush) or use a made up president.
I guess that is what could have led to only Jerry, Sasha and Maria surviving, right?
The answer is possibly. I didn't put too much time into planning this possibility because the opposite choice was chosen. Had Domenick and Tom not been there to help, things would have been worse for those in the pickup bed. If it had been coupled with a worse option for what do with Danny's bite, let's say, the full amputation option, the causalities could have been worse or different.
Though thi… [view original content]
Wait, the apocalypse started in 2003 in the story? That is a detail I have seriously not seen so far. This changes... well, not much, but it is a more than interesting detail. Technically, that would mean Bush as the president, although he is one of the few presidents I could actually see not surviving the apocalypse XD I mean, you could use him if you feel confident with using a real existing person in the story, although I guess nobody would mind if you decide to use a president you created for the story. A great majority of shows does it that way.
Yeah. While it's never been specifically stated and no real timeline has been heavily adhered to, 2003 was the year the apocalypse began. In the Rosa Drive storyline, it's October 2004. Anyway, I admittedly know very little about Bush. While a made up president might be the better solution, part of me really wants to make George Bush a wandering, zombie-slaying survivor, however unrealistic that is XD
Oh, this is bad, we really dodged a bullet there. Twice actually. I mean, this was far from a happy ending to the chapter, but I am oddly relieved how much loss we managed to avert with our choices here. This is pretty nice. Now we only need to pick even more carefully later on.
I'm happy with the outcome myself. I don't know if I could have gone through with a killing some of them. Original plans had Maria a possible casualty along with Asher, but that never came up, and in hindsight, I don't think I could ever go through with killing her. It was hard to kill off Kurt and James—that can probably be seen just from how little I lingered on their deaths.
Oh, I see. This is surely interesting, although it brings up another question here: Does this mean that the other group could have had casualties as well if we would have picked Violet to accompany the trio? Or would they have been generally save if we would have decided to split up?
The latter. Violet's absence from the group heading the long way around would not have left them open to extra danger. Her presence at the bridge scene just would have been required to pull the others there out of a tight spot.
That would be tricky lol, but that definitely does strike my interest as well. I hope you don't mind if I put it in the idea bin. The big qu… moreestion is whether to use the real president (the apocalypse very loosely began in 2003 here, like the comics, I believe, which would make it George W. Bush) or use a made up president.
Wait, the apocalypse started in 2003 in the story? That is a detail I have seriously not seen so far. This changes... well, not much, but it is a more than interesting detail. Technically, that would mean Bush as the president, although he is one of the few presidents I could actually see not surviving the apocalypse XD I mean, you could use him if you feel confident with using a real existing person in the story, although I guess nobody would mind if you decide to use a president you created for the story. A great majority of shows does it that way.
The answer is possibly. I didn't put too much time into plan… [view original content]
(!) Daniel will choose the bedroom with pleasant wallpaper a view field to the north
There aren't any hidden consequences in this choice. What it will affect are some circumstances for the future parts and chapters as well as generally the setting of Daniel's scenes. I should say, in the future, most of Daniel's choice aren't going to affect the world around him as much as they affect himself—that might be important to bear in mind.
I've been meaning to announce this for some time but hadn't ever found the moment, so I'm doing it now: I'm going to close character submissions after chapter 16 concludes, or some time soon after. I have more than enough characters to see me through to the end. These last two acts are going to have to be much larger and more expansive than the previous acts just so I can include as many as I can them in the main story. Beyond that, I will plan to use one-shots to utilize any leftover characters. It's hard to believe we're so far past the half point!
Recent reads:
Someplace to be Flying by Charles de Lint:Someplace to be Flying is an urban fantasy novel about “animal people,” or, as they’re known in Native-American folklore, the First People, living among the citizens of the city of Newford. The First People are at odds with other factions, and regular people are becoming mixed up in their conflict as the layers of what they saw as normal are being peeled back to reveal the mystical people that have existed all around them without their knowledge.
The characters are all colorful and endearing, and their personalities are rich. There’s also many a lot of them. Much of the story itself is told through dialogue. It's somewhat slow, but never boring. Mildly annoying were the points where the scene shifted to hide a conversation or explanation so it could be revealed later, but the reveals, when they finally came, weren’t disappointing. I really enjoyed the story and de Lint’s writing! It was my first reading anything by him and I definitely plan to delve further into his work, especially the stories set in Newford, a location many of his books share.
Yeah. While it's never been specifically stated and no real timeline has been heavily adhered to, 2003 was the year the apocalypse began. In the Rosa Drive storyline, it's October 2004. Anyway, I admittedly know very little about Bush. While a made up president might be the better solution, part of me really wants to make George Bush a wandering, zombie-slaying survivor, however unrealistic that is XD
I must have seriously missed that. I thought the apocalypse started in 2015, when the story started as well. This is very interesting. With Bush, well, it's actually not entirely unrealistic. He is from Texas, so he would fit into the setting. Being a very conservative person and having served in the military basically also means that he owns guns and knows how to use them. And 2003 has been long before his massive drop in popularity, so his chances of survival are arguably not the worst
I'm happy with the outcome myself. I don't know if I could have gone through with a killing some of them. Original plans had Maria a possible casualty along with Asher, but that never came up, and in hindsight, I don't think I could ever go through with killing her. It was hard to kill off Kurt and James—that can probably be seen just from how little I lingered on their deaths.
Oh, good lord, this would have crushed me As much as I am sad about the deaths of Kurt and James, Maria and Asher would have been so much worse. We really dodged a couple of bullets, because even Asher would have been a big loss, or Danny. I could have lived with Domenick and Tom and I probably wouldn't have been too crushed about Violet, but there's this hard core of the expedition group which I wouldn't want to miss. Actually, James has been among them as well, so his death is one of the hardest so far, all the way up there with Anthony and Jordan for me.
The latter. Violet's absence from the group heading the long way around would not have left them open to extra danger. Her presence at the bridge scene just would have been required to pull the others there out of a tight spot.
Damn it, that was the choice we did wrong. I knew it would happen sooner or later, that we'd misjudge such a crucial situation, but it seems Violet could have become a real badass in this chapter, saving the others and stuff. It's interesting how much my opinion on her improved over the course of this one chapter. She still has a long way to go, but I got a good feeling for her.
Wait, the apocalypse started in 2003 in the story? That is a detail I have seriously not seen so far. This changes... well, not much, but it… more is a more than interesting detail. Technically, that would mean Bush as the president, although he is one of the few presidents I could actually see not surviving the apocalypse XD I mean, you could use him if you feel confident with using a real existing person in the story, although I guess nobody would mind if you decide to use a president you created for the story. A great majority of shows does it that way.
Yeah. While it's never been specifically stated and no real timeline has been heavily adhered to, 2003 was the year the apocalypse began. In the Rosa Drive storyline, it's October 2004. Anyway, I admittedly know very little about Bush. While a made up president might be the better solution, part of me really wants to make George Bush a wandering, zombie-slaying survivor, however unrealist… [view original content]
There are kittens in my room. Two. Hobbs and Nate. For now, they sleep, but my hands are lacerated and I don't think I'm finished scrubbing up poop from the carpet. I had written up most of the next part (which will takes us to East Texas) but was unable to complete it before these little bastards entered my home and shat on the carpet under my bed.
Alas, they're adorable. I'll post pictures soon. I thankfully finished writing the next Silicon County part. All it requires is a little editing and then I can post it today. I'll be working on finishing the next Monument part but I really can't make any promises for a timely release thanks to the fluffy distractions requiring care and attention.
Another thing I should mention is I don't we're going on vacation after all (it's not completely off the table, but it seems very unlikely to happen now). I will still be going out of town for a bit sometime this month because my grandmother is having surgery. Everything should be fine, but I'll let you all know how it goes.
I've got awful luck with cats and I couldn't even handle one of them myself, let alone two, so I can only wish you the best of luck there.
I don't really know if I can speak for everyone when I say this next part, but I'm highly confident that I do.
Take your time and don't stress about it, we can wait. You've got a lot on your plate, it seems like, and kittens and cats alike are rambunctious and can easily get into trouble, so don't let Hobbs and Nate get into too much trouble.
Also, I'm sorry to hear about the vacation and your grandmother, and I hope she does well with the surgery and recovers easily, painlessly, and happily.
Updated:
There are kittens in my room. Two. Hobbs and Nate. For now, they sleep, but my hands are lacerated and I don't think I'm finishe… mored scrubbing up poop from the carpet. I had written up most of the next part (which will takes us to East Texas) but was unable to complete it before these little bastards entered my home and shat on the carpet under my bed.
Alas, they're adorable. I'll post pictures soon. I thankfully finished writing the next Silicon County part. All it requires is a little editing and then I can post it today. I'll be working on finishing the next Monument part but I really can't make any promises for a timely release thanks to the fluffy distractions requiring care and attention.
Another thing I should mention is I don't we're going on vacation after all (it's not completely off the table, but it seems very unlikely to happen now). I will still be going out of town for a bit sometime this month because my grandmo… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds drift like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first few months at Hiddleston College—before the dead had even begun walking—and the simple act of remembrance made his blood want to boil, and it would have if he hadn’t lost so much of it. Hannah was in danger. She needed help. He knew, even in his delirium, that wherever he was being driven, it was away from the campus. He didn’t know what destination waited for him, or what waited for him at that destination, but whatever it was, he didn’t want it. He wanted to go back to the campus, to rescue Hannah… to kill Adrian.
Alex was not a violent person at his core. He had never sought to cause harm to another human being—save for the times in his youth, back when he lived in Santa Barbara, when his so-called friends had made fun of him for his mother’s adultery until he would lash out—until now. He entertained many violent fantasies.
Adrian at gunpoint…
Adrian kneeling before me, a baseball bat prepared to strike…
Adrian prone, his jaw sitting on the curb… Me, boot raised high, preparing to stump...
These, Alex figured, probably weren’t healthy in the slightest, but they helped keep the pain out of his mind. He made the mistake of asking himself Just how am I supposed to do any of this? and injecting realism into his wonderings. He came to the conclusion that none were likely possible given his state of health. He was fucked up, had more fractured bones than he could add up, could hardly see, and was probably in worse shape than that time he was hit by a car before he and his father moved out of California. This time there weren’t any hospitals, doctors, nurses, or physical rehab centers for him to make another absurd, slow, and painful recovery. He would never fully recover, much less make a partial recovery. Things would inevitably heal wrong. He was, in a word, broken.
He held onto another fantasy and didn’t let this one die, or fade, or allow him himself to inject realism to it: this time Adrian was the one tied down to the chair, and Alex was the one asking the former mathematics professor questions, asking him why he was such a horrible leader, asking him why he saw fit to be such a creep, and every time Adrian attempted to defend himself with excuses and lies, Alex would use the same baseball bat Adrian had used on him during his own interrogation, use it in just the same way as Adrian had.
As he thought it over and rehearsed his questions and imagined how he would swing the bat, the sky and clouds above became more abstract and strange. Even the pain from the pickup bed bouncing seemed to fade. The motivations and notions of those driving him wherever they were driving him became less and less consequential. His eye shut fully… because his head still hurt… and after a moment of shuteye, he opened it again, and it was no longer a blue morning—it was a red evening. He was no longer in the pickup bed—he was lying in grass, and could feel the chilling morning dew soaking his clothes, wetting the dried blood covering his shirt and jeans.
He inhaled fully in surprise at this revelation and the action sent waves of agony rolling and echoing through his torso and limbs as he writhed. It began to subsided into the odd, jolting spasm. Once it had settled, he lay still in the unmowed grass. He breathed shallow, if still agonizing, breaths and tried to think over what had happened.
The drivers had, he knew, been ordered to see to his execution, which was probably going to be a quiet ordeal, far away from campus. They had left him alive instead. Unless they were still around and planning to finish him off at any moment. Maybe they were waiting for him to regain consciousness. Though, that seemed unlikely given that his loud sufferings just a few minutes ago would have draw their attention. More likely, he guessed, they had just abandoned him in some ditch rather than get their hands dirty.
This thought sparked anger in him.
He realized he would have to move eventually. He couldn’t just lay here under the open sky until some of the dead came wandering up to him for a snack. And it would be night soon. Still, it was a daunting prospect after the pain from just taking a full breath, so he started slow and simple: he flexed his fingers, hands, and wrists—a little scraped up from the chaos outside the Admin building and the scuffle he had with a guard during his apprehension, but otherwise intact. Next he moved up to his arms and moved them—pain emitted from many deep bruises along his arms instantly, but despite wincing from the pain, nothing felt broken, just horribly battered. His legs were a worse affair—one kneecap might have been fractured from taking a hit from Adrian’s bat and something was wrong with the shin of his other leg—so he figured he’d been walking with a limp, if he managed to walk at all.
He would have to try first to find out.
The ground beneath him was canted. Turning his head and neck slightly, feeling pain by doing so, but mostly numbness, he could see where the embankment fell and rose again on the other side of a small trickle of water. He could try to rolling downslope to get on his stomach and, maybe, onto his feet from there, but he imagined what would happen if he couldn’t rolling, the torment that would inflict, and the possibility he would drown himself in that poor excuse for a creek.
He figured, with the full use of his arms, he would be able to stop himself. If not... He decided not to give it any more thought and threw his weight. White hot pain surged as he turned over. He quickly scrambled onto his knees, despite the horrible sensation it caused, to relieve the weight from his chest and face. He shuddered there on his hands and knees, black dots dancing in his vision, strifling his gasps so his broken ribs wouldn’t cause him to blackout.
He remained in this position for a long time as the pain faded away. Most of it didn’t. The pain in his knee was burning while his legs remained bent. Bile churned in his stomach. He knew he was on the verge of vomiting despite having had nothing to eat since breakfast on the day of the coup, which he thought of as two days ago but now realized could have been much longer.
His jaw. He worked his jaw and felt pain flare in the numbness of his face like a candle in darkness. And the darkness, the numbness, was slowly fading. He imagined what it would feel like to dry heave with a broken jaw.
He tried to stand, succeeded, and blacked out for half a second before he blinked the darkness away and staggered, catching himself but at the cost of another intense burn of pain from all his wounds as his muscles fired, contracted, and spasmed. He somehow remained standing.
Which way? he thought, looking down both ends of the highway, east and west, the glowing orb of the sun visible to the west. He needed to go east. He looked that way at the dark purple filling the sky, at the stalled cars littering the road, at the road which had been cleared haphazardly and incompletely, at the tall pines trees lining either side.
He moved forward in that direction. Pained surged. He had to force himself not to grit his teeth. He managed a dozen steps before, feeling dizzy, he had to stop out of fear of collapsing. He had limped, but he knew he could do it. He could make it. He had to make it. He pictured Adrian tied to the chair, himself with all the control, and managed another thirty steps before the pain made it difficult to concentrate on the fantasy. He took a rest.
I can do it, he thought, trying not to inhale too deeply as his body demanded he pant.
Alex looked to his right and saw a lane breaking off from the highway. In between the tall tree trunks and greenery, he could see that the little drive led to a house. He could rest or look for first aid supplies there. A mad dash back to the college was not sustainable. He would have to stop eventually. Daylight was running out, though. Should he try to make the most of the remaining evening and stop, rest, and further evaluate his situation somewhere down the road, or do so now and loose his first evening?
[Press on and find somewhere to rest down the road.]
I just think this would be safer for Alex and easier for him to do, given his current circumstances.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
Also, I just remembered a question I had. It had slipped my mind long ago and it has returned, so if I may, I'd like to ask it now.
It was mentioned in the interlude that Adrian's last name is Francis, just like a Daniel Francis we know from Laredo. Do the two share any relationship, or is it just a coincidence? Though, I'm sure it's the latter, I'm overall curious about it.
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds dri… moreft like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first f… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds dri… moreft like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first f… [view original content]
This was a great first part for Alex' storyline. I really liked his small segment from the interlude, so I was happy to see him back so soon. I guess this is the darker storyline you mentioned, because man, it already started very dark, but also very intriguing. Well done there, with setting up his situation and whole. It is already a pretty intense storyline, one I could see growing even better in time and I am surely exicted for it.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
Alex is wounded, tired and in generally poor condition. Who knows what dangers await down the road, but it is better to face them while slightly more well-rested and in daylight. Maybe he'll even find valuable supplies in the house, first aid stuff or food. In any way, he might be able to find a nice place to rest. It seems safer than going down the road and having to hope for another house, or any place to rest, which is likely going to be far less comfortable than this house.
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds dri… moreft like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first f… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds dri… moreft like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first f… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds dri… moreft like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first f… [view original content]
They're devouring my free time. And I swear these kittens spend more time at each other's throats than they do sleeping. Thankfully, I was able to trim Hobbs's claws, but Nate is being difficult in that regard and I haven't been able to get him to sit still long enough to trim them. My hands are flayed. And they've caught fleas from our older cats, which is the worst.
I really appreciate it! I actually visited my grandmother on Sunday at her house and things went very well! She isn't going to go to the hospital for surgery for a bit. While I visited, we made gluten free cookies out of cake mix, since she has a bad wheat allergy, and they turned out surprisingly well.
I've got awful luck with cats and I couldn't even handle one of them myself, let alone two, so I can only wish you the best of luck there.
… more I don't really know if I can speak for everyone when I say this next part, but I'm highly confident that I do.
Take your time and don't stress about it, we can wait. You've got a lot on your plate, it seems like, and kittens and cats alike are rambunctious and can easily get into trouble, so don't let Hobbs and Nate get into too much trouble.
Also, I'm sorry to hear about the vacation and your grandmother, and I hope she does well with the surgery and recovers easily, painlessly, and happily.
It was mentioned in the interlude that Adrian's last name is Francis, just like a Daniel Francis we know from Laredo. Do the two share any relationship, or is it just a coincidence? Though, I'm sure it's the latter, I'm overall curious about it.
It's less a coincidence and more of an oversight on my part. I didn't know Adrian's last name since his character is embedded in Alex and Hannah's submissions, and I gave Danny the same last name without realizing it. There's no relation between them.
I just think this would be safer for Alex and easier for him to do, given his current circumstances.
[Rest until morning at the house at … morehand.]
Also, I just remembered a question I had. It had slipped my mind long ago and it has returned, so if I may, I'd like to ask it now.
It was mentioned in the interlude that Adrian's last name is Francis, just like a Daniel Francis we know from Laredo. Do the two share any relationship, or is it just a coincidence? Though, I'm sure it's the latter, I'm overall curious about it.
The last cat I've owned was an extremely fat cat who gave the litter box no glance, which was the reason we gave him away. We ended up getting him declared after he got his claw stuck in throat. If that doesn't explain my luck with cats, I don't know what will. Regardless, it's better to keep their nails under control while they're still young to get them used to the idea of trimming their nails, making less of a fuss when they get older. Fleas have been a total pain for my Schnauzer. The other two dogs haven't gotten them, but the one dog we have who is allergic to them got them to the point where he nearly scratched his skin raw. I do feel bad about the cats getting them, though, because cats are seriously more difficult to bathe than dogs are.
It's good that you got to see her and baked with her, I'm sure she appreciated the visit. Gluten free products are actually pretty good, and they are occasionally even better than wheat based products. Really, my philosophy says that it's the smaller things in life that matter the most, along with every moment spent with a loved one, so I'm almost positive the visit made her happy.
They're devouring my free time. And I swear these kittens spend more time at each other's throats than they do sleeping. Thankfully, I was a… moreble to trim Hobbs's claws, but Nate is being difficult in that regard and I haven't been able to get him to sit still long enough to trim them. My hands are flayed. And they've caught fleas from our older cats, which is the worst.
I really appreciate it! I actually visited my grandmother on Sunday at her house and things went very well! She isn't going to go to the hospital for surgery for a bit. While I visited, we made gluten free cookies out of cake mix, since she has a bad wheat allergy, and they turned out surprisingly well.
(!) Alex will make his way to the nearby house and rest
I'm looking forward to Alex's following part, as this choice puts him into an interesting scenario that I'm excited to write out. This was definitely the better option from the foreseeable reasons for picking it, but we'll have to see what unforeseeable things it might cause.
I have a positive update on my grandmother! While I wasn't able to accompany my father out of town to the hospital, he was relaying the good news as it came (he got back home safe today). It's been a few days since the bypass surgery, and she's been doing well. There's even talk she might be moved out of the Immediate Care Unit. At first, they were keeping her sedated to make sure her body had time to recoup from the surgery. Then after they woke her up, they had her do a little walking, which she was able to do! If there's more to say, I'll make sure to mention it, but it seems everything's going well from here on out.
Recent reads:
Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist: This is now one of my favorite horror novels. Let the Right One In is about a troubled boy befriending a young girl who is a vampire. I don't think this accurately describes how far the plot goes, but I don't want to spoil anything. It's a dark novel with a lot of side characters and more plotlines than I was expecting, but I was happy with how little unnecessary detail there was and, for the most part, how the additional plotlines converged. One of the characters is a pedophile, who makes just about every scene they're in uncomfortable and has several parts that are really disgusting, but that's really the only negative thing I have to say about this novel. Likely, these moments are mostly isolated to the first half of the story. I went in reading this having seen the Swedish film adaption, which is one of my favorite horror movies—it only covers the main plotline between the boy and the vampire and makes some necessary cuts (such as, thankfully, the pedophile character). Unfortunately, the film simplifies a few things that diminish its effectiveness as a horror story, which make the novel a much stronger narrative. If you're looking for a great horror novel and can get the past the creepy stuff, I would definitely recommend it.
Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman:Fragile Things is a collection of story stories, some poems, and one novella. Other People, a 4-page story about Hell, was by far my favorite short story in this collection. I enjoyed the whimsical quality of Harlequin Valentine. I liked a lot of them, but they're a little too many to talk about them all. Besides the wonderful Instructions, I didn’t care much for the poems, but their placement through the collection did help make things easier to read. Closing this volume is The Monarch of the Glen, a novella set after the events of American Gods which follows Shadow’s exploits in Scotland. I thought it was great. It was really nice to catch up with Shadow. I’m looking forward to some time reading Gaiman’s most recent collection, Trigger Warnings, and the other American Gods novella contained in that.
All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque: So far, this is possibly the best novel I've read this month. It's set in World War 1 and follows a group of young Germen men who go from the classroom to the Front, and it's about how it affects them and their view on the world and life. It's brutal and violent, but it doesn't linger. The author wrote many other war novels on a variety of subjects before his death, and I'm looking to someday reading them.
Lastly...
Kittens! The fluffy orange and white guy to the left is named Hobbs (and occasionally called Kristofferson). He chirps. The black and white guy is Nate. His full name is Nathanial and at times he is also called Nathan. He sort of screeches with a very high tone. I've had them for about eleven days and they're doing good! Unfortunately, they've caught fleas from our other cats, but I'm going to start bathing them to take care of that in addition to some combing them regularly.
I am very glad to hear that your grandmother recovered nicely from her surgery and that the whole procedure went so well. These are really good news
Also, kittens! My god, now we are officially part of the internet, there's cat pictures here Seriously though, these are adorable. I can't say I have much experience with kittens, but just seeing them makes me contemplate about buying a kitten. Man, they are ridiculously cute! I can only imagine that it has been a serious amount of work to get both of them to sit still and pay attention enough for you to take a picture
Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist:
I remember seeing the movie quite a couple of years ago, though I am afraid I cannot really remember much of it. I think I liked it though. I must also admit that I did not know it originated as a book. But this is interesting! As said, I think I liked the movie, so maybe that would be something for me. Horror novels are always a delight, even if I usually don't really like horror movies.
All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque:
Now this is very interesting. I wasn't sure this is the kind of novel you like, as the topic is surely not for everyone. I know the book, and my grandma even has it in her collection, first edition if I am not mistaken, which she inherited from her father. I haven't gotten around to read it though, since her copy has to be nearly 90 years old and I am a bit intimidated by that thought, as well as a bit too afraid to accidentally damage it. It's also written in old german letters, which are truly a pain to read But I am well aware of the book, heard a lot of good about it.
Voting is closed!
(!) Alex will make his way to the nearby house and rest
I'm looking forward to Alex's following part, as this choice… more puts him into an interesting scenario that I'm excited to write out. This was definitely the better option from the foreseeable reasons for picking it, but we'll have to see what unforeseeable things it might cause.
I have a positive update on my grandmother! While I wasn't able to accompany my father out of town to the hospital, he was relaying the good news as it came (he got back home safe today). It's been a few days since the bypass surgery, and she's been doing well. There's even talk she might be moved out of the Immediate Care Unit. At first, they were keeping her sedated to make sure her body had time to recoup from the surgery. Then after they woke her up, they had her do a little walking, which she was able to do! If there's more to say, I'll make sure to mention it, but it seems everything… [view original content]
I am very glad to hear that your grandmother recovered nicely from her surgery and that the whole procedure went so well. These are really good news
I appreciate it! There's also more good news: she got into physical therapy several days ago and it's being covered by her insurance. She's doing good. And if all goes to plan, we'll be visiting her sometime this weekend.
Also, kittens! My god, now we are officially part of the internet, there's cat pictures here Seriously though, these are adorable. I can't say I have much experience with kittens, but just seeing them makes me contemplate about buying a kitten. Man, they are ridiculously cute! I can only imagine that it has been a serious amount of work to get both of them to sit still and pay attention enough for you to take a picture
They're wonderful, but a handful (Nate just dropped into their water dish from above as I'm writing this). They're innately curious, so it was actually really easy to get them to gather near the camera. It's also hard for them to be photogenic when they're sleeping. :P I might post pictures of them here and there. I recently took few that I like a lot and they have a knack for looking silly.
I remember seeing the movie quite a couple of years ago, though I am afraid I cannot really remember much of it. I think I liked it though. I must also admit that I did not know it originated as a book. But this is interesting! As said, I think I liked the movie, so maybe that would be something for me. Horror novels are always a delight, even if I usually don't really like horror movies.
If you check it out, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! It's a real treat despite how dark it gets. Like I mentioned, the novel's a lot broader than the film, and I think like the extra length and subplots serve the story well—it never felt padded. Plus, the writing itself is pretty phenomenal, if you ask me. I picked Lindqvist's next novel, Handling the Undead, and I'm really itching to dig into it.
Now this is very interesting. I wasn't sure this is the kind of novel you like, as the topic is surely not for everyone. I know the book, and my grandma even has it in her collection, first edition if I am not mistaken, which she inherited from her father. I haven't gotten around to read it though, since her copy has to be nearly 90 years old and I am a bit intimidated by that thought, as well as a bit too afraid to accidentally damage it. It's also written in old german letters, which are truly a pain to read But I am well aware of the book, heard a lot of good about it.
Wow, that's really awesome! I would be nervous about handling such an old edition as well. I'd say it's well worth finding a secondhand copy just to read. I'd think it would be available at a library, given its age and recognition. It's the first piece of classic literature I've really ever read (and, as you said, it's definitely unlike what I normally read—I was going partly off InGen's recommendation from way back in this thread) and I strongly feel it's one of the best things I've read yet.
I am very glad to hear that your grandmother recovered nicely from her surgery and that the whole procedure went so well. These are really g… moreood news
Also, kittens! My god, now we are officially part of the internet, there's cat pictures here Seriously though, these are adorable. I can't say I have much experience with kittens, but just seeing them makes me contemplate about buying a kitten. Man, they are ridiculously cute! I can only imagine that it has been a serious amount of work to get both of them to sit still and pay attention enough for you to take a picture
Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist:
I remember seeing the movie quite a couple of years ago, though I am afraid I cannot really remember much of it. I think I liked it though. I must also admit that I did not know it originated as a book. But this is interesting! As said, I think I liked the movie, so maybe that would be something for me. Horror novel… [view original content]
Daniel Martinez — Rosa Drive, Central Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-04: Early in the morning, after his first night spent in the farmhouse, Daniel opened his eyes and looked at the blue-gray light seeping through the curtains. For a time after rising from bed, he stood in front of the window, letting the same damp breeze that stirred the field cool his arms, chest and face. He then put on his shoes and wandered down the hall, but paused before he started downstairs.
The door to the child’s bedroom was cracked. He stepped back around the banister and walked toward the door, wondering if the ghost was relieved or resentful that he didn’t choose to occupy its room. Whatever the case, when he entered, he found the room empty, or so it appeared. He approached the window, saw something moving in the beyond the smudged glass, and opened it to have a look.
In the weak light, a lone figure parted the weeds and dying cornstalks in the middle of one of the fields. Daniel watched, transfixed, his heart suddenly pounding, as the figure clumsily carved a path and stepped onto the driveway. It paused there, making a few indecisive steps, first in the direction of the farmhouse, then toward the county road. Finally, it crossed the driveway, reentered the field, and began ambling a crooked path toward the property’s western boundary. The breeze shifted and brought the figure’s fermenting stink to Daniel’s nostrils.
He groaned sickly and shut the window again before leaving. Downstairs he stopped in front of his parents’ door and knocked. There was no answer, so he peeked inside, but saw no one. He looked around the rest of the bottom floor. Empty. He stepped out onto the back porch and he heard something roar in the barn.
Wide-eyed, Daniel watched the giant doors. Again, the roar boomed out, followed by a sputter before it died down. Was it an animal, Daniel wondered, or a monster, something nightmarish? He began to edge backward and, when the sound flared up again and didn’t stop and the barn door flew open, he sprinted back into the house.
The roar was now a continuous note, and it was on the move. When Daniel worked up the courage to peek out. he saw Atlanta maneuvering a lawnmower around the backyard while Ashley latched the barn doors. Feeling silly but remembering the walker, Daniel emerged from the house. Ashley saw him before he could try to get her attention and yelled something into Atlanta’s ear, who nodded, smiled at Daniel, and continued to mow. Ashley jogged up to the porch.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
“There’s a walker,” he murmured.
“Oh.” She frowned. “Where?”
“In front of the house. In the field. I saw it through the window upstairs.”
She sighed. “Thanks for telling me. Wait here while I let Atlanta know.” She ran off.
Atlanta shut off the lawnmower as they spoke. They moved on without it, Ashley gesturing for Daniel to follow them. He hurried after them through the grass, following them around the house. The adults halted several yards from field. They’d heard something. He listened as well and the sound repeated itself: clumsy feet, weeds being crushed.
Ashley sighed again, slipping the safety off on her pistol but leaving it holstered. Instead, she drew a knife, its edge sharpened and well-maintained. Before advancing into the overgrown field, she asked Atlanta to come with her. Atlanta nodded, led Daniel over to the front porch and told him to sit tight until they got back—it would only take a second.
She drew her own blade and together she and Ashley entered the field, soon wandering out of sight, though Daniel could still hear the receding sounds of their movement. He ran to the steps and got on the porch, then climbed onto the railing. The surface of it was flat and easy to stand on, and he had a perfect perspective on the field. There were three wakes being made, and Daniel could the tops of his parents’ head. The walker was hunched and just hidden from sight. Daniel held his breath. His parents were converging on the walker, and the walker had already left the barbed wire fence in favor of their direction, likely having heard them. Daniel watched, more concerned for his parents than awed by their strategy, as they split up and closed in on the walker from opposite sides The walker, its attention momentarily torn between the two sources of commotion, ultimately advanced in Ashley’s direction. After it had turned, Atlanta shot forward and buried her pocket knife in the walker’s skull. It toppled, leaving, from Daniel’s point of view, a small gap in the field where its body lay, and there was silence save for the hymn of the field in the breeze.
“Daniel!” Ashley called. “Go get the wheelbarrow from the barn!”
Breathless, Daniel lowered himself down to the grass and ran around to the back. The wheelbarrow, tipped on its nose and tucked into a corner of the barn, took some effort to unwedge, but once it was, Daniel was able to wheel it, albeit awkwardly, to the front of the house. Ashley was waiting at the edge of the field, ready to take it from him when he arrived.
“Wait here,” she told him, and pushed the wheelbarrow into the field. Many of the weeds closed again in her wake, but some, treaded on by her boots and the single wheel, remained parted, leaving a curving path. Eventually the her trajectory took her away from his line of sight and he ran back to the porch to see if he could see them work, but all he could see were their heads, strained with exertion and disgust, as they carefully lifted something together.
He descended the porch steps again and, keeping his distance, waited as they emerged with the laden wheelbarrow, at which point he saw it.
The walker was sprawled inside, its arms tucked next to its torso, its legs hanging over the lip. It was male, or had been. Its face was decayed and infused with a sort of feral expression that was somewhat lulled by death—now it almost appeared sleepy. Daniel stared at it without feeling sick, or even really being disturbed. It seemed to merely be a human corpse, dug up, perhaps, from its grave. What he felt might have been pity. He averted his gaze to escape those feelings and instead looked down at his wrist—the waterproof watch, with its slick design and inlaid compass along band, said it was thirteen minutes till six. It wouldn’t be long before the others arrived.
To be continued...
Post-part Notes:
It's scary how fast time flies. A few more days and it would have been about a month since the last part, and it hardly feels like it's been that long. I'm sorry for the delay. I'll try to get back on track with my writing this month. The kittens continue to prove to be fluffy little distractions, and since I used to always write alone, it's been interesting adjusting to their presence, but I think I've used to them. Also, I visited my grandmother last week—everything went every well, she's doing great, and she's likely to go home soon in the future!
Recent reads:
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett:Good Omens was such a treat and probably the funniest book I’ve read by either author. Crowley might have been my favorite character, but on the other hand, I found everything involving Dog endlessly funny, so it’s a little hard to choose. The Witchfinders were probably the only thing that didn't hit well with me, but even they were pretty wonderful. In fact, everything was pretty wonderful.
Mort by Terry Pratchett: I loved the characters, and it was great seeing Death take center stage, or at least close to center stage. A cameo, appearing in the later sections of the story, was really enjoyable, and it sort of reaffirms my decision to read the books in publishing order. The only thing I have any misgivings about is the ending, which felt somewhat handwavy, but it didn't in any way detract from what is definitely among my favorites from Pratchett.
Books of Blood: Volume One by Clive Barker: Well, I wasn't expecting to enjoy Barker's writing as much as I did, and I was able to just breeze through this collection of stories. Several are sexually graphic and pretty all of them are, in some way, very grisly. It opens with The Book of Blood, which acts as a wonderful framing device for the rest of Barker's stories here. It's relatively short at twenty pages, so it's hard to summarize without spoilers. I'll just say, the dead have highways and some researchers, investigating a supposedly haunted house, get way more than they bargained for.
Another surprise was The Yattering and Jack, which I find surprisingly entertaining in a humorous way. It's about a demon, called the Yattering, who can't seem to faze the human its been order to drive insane, named Jack.
Sex, Death, and Starshine definitely lives up to its name. It follows a director and involves the dead (or rather, the undead) as they put together the perfect Shakespeare production. Anyway, I only mentioned half the stories, but I feel pretty positively about them all. I can't wait to read the next volumes in the Books of Blood or to try one of Barker's novels.
Ah, I haven't even noticed that it was almost a month! All I knew was, it's been longer than I am comfortable with and I had withdrawal symptoms already It was, as always, a very nice part. I dig this calmer stuff, but also seeing things from Daniel's perspective for once, which differs so wildly from the perspective of the adults he usually interacts with. The atmosphere is generally a peaceful one, however, this gave me the bad feeling that things might not stay that way. One thing I am a bit worried about is that the others have not arrived yet. While I don't know if this is unusual or not, I am naturally worried about this, because as I said before, I doubt things will remain that peaceful. I still wonder who will be with them. I think Josie and Jake are certain to join them, given that they are basically family, but I doubt they will travel alone, as capable as both are when it comes to survival. I wonder how many people will live at Rosa Drive in general, as just Atlanta, Ashley, Daniel, Josie and Jake might be a bit few. I hope for a couple of strong, capable survivors to keep them safe, but some of their best have left for the expedition. Ah, the wait is killing me, I cannot wait to find out more
Also, I am glad to hear that your grandmother's recovery is going so well that she can even go home in the near future. Those are very great news and I wish her recovery to be as short as possible.
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett:
Good Omes, ah, glad you got around to read it. It's certainly one of my favourite books ever, featuring two of my favourite authors at their absolute best. A classic for sure. Like you, the Witchfinders have been my least favourite part of the novel, but I also found myself enjoyed them. In fact, they are only my least favourite part because everything else has been even better. A lovely novel, with lots of great humour and one I surely should reread soon
Mort by Terry Pratchett:
And Mort, another one of my favourites. Though I find myself enjoying the later books of the Death series even more (particularly Reaper Man and Hogfather are outstanding), but it is nonetheless one of my favourite Discworld novels, even if it has been a long time since I last read it. I am curious, which cameo do you mean? As said, it has been a bit of a time since I last read it, so I may have forgotten about some of the details.
Daniel Martinez — Rosa Drive, Central Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-04: Early in the morning, after his first night spent in the farmhouse… more, Daniel opened his eyes and looked at the blue-gray light seeping through the curtains. For a time after rising from bed, he stood in front of the window, letting the same damp breeze that stirred the field cool his arms, chest and face. He then put on his shoes and wandered down the hall, but paused before he started downstairs.
The door to the child’s bedroom was cracked. He stepped back around the banister and walked toward the door, wondering if the ghost was relieved or resentful that he didn’t choose to occupy its room. Whatever the case, when he entered, he found the room empty, or so it appeared. He approached the window, saw something moving in the beyond the smudged glass, and opened it to have a look.
In the weak light, a lone figure parted the weeds and dying cornstalks in the middle of… [view original content]
Interesting part. I wonder if I should be concerned or relieved that Walkers have become a normal thing that Daniel's adjusted to. I think it's important to know a child's state of mind, especially in the Walking Dead.
Daniel Martinez — Rosa Drive, Central Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-04: Early in the morning, after his first night spent in the farmhouse… more, Daniel opened his eyes and looked at the blue-gray light seeping through the curtains. For a time after rising from bed, he stood in front of the window, letting the same damp breeze that stirred the field cool his arms, chest and face. He then put on his shoes and wandered down the hall, but paused before he started downstairs.
The door to the child’s bedroom was cracked. He stepped back around the banister and walked toward the door, wondering if the ghost was relieved or resentful that he didn’t choose to occupy its room. Whatever the case, when he entered, he found the room empty, or so it appeared. He approached the window, saw something moving in the beyond the smudged glass, and opened it to have a look.
In the weak light, a lone figure parted the weeds and dying cornstalks in the middle of… [view original content]
Mei Xia — Colorado Springs, CO — 10 Months In — 16-03: The buildings were negative spaces against the night sky. Mei Xia navigated her way through the boulevard by starlight, studying the odd flicker of candlelight behind glass and drawn curtains high above her in thoughtful silence as she jogged.
Work had kept her later than it should have. The guard, who was supposed to relief her sharply at eight PM, had shown up half an hour late visibly drunk. Mia, of course, had refused to give her post—they weren’t guarding a tool shed, after all—and reported the infraction once a fresh guard was able to relieve her.
It had been nearly ten when she was finally able to leave. She had left her post and gone straight to her route, hurrying if she wanted to squeeze her nightly jog in before curfew, which loomed ahead—according to her watch, which was set to the community’s standardized clock and as close to Mountain Time as possible—in a mere thirteen minutes.
The weight of the city’s gaze was on her shoulders and back as she followed the reflective yellow line. The sidewalks, the streets themselves, were empty, but she didn’t let herself think she was alone—they were watching from above and behind glass, glimpsing her in the lit cones of streetlights as a blur of dark clothing and short hair, a moon of a face and little else in the moment they had to see her. Her pace was quick, limber, and more importantly, consistent—she could run for like this for hours. Most people assumed just she was gearing for a change in her career, maybe to a scout, or scavenger, or even a courier. Had they knew the truth, that it was just cathartic exercise, many would have probably have scoffed at such a waste of calories. It wasn’t a waste, she believed, if it kept you together. Boredom and monotony, as she routinely experienced as a guard, could drive you insane, or at least depressed—she could do without either.
Her route wound around the downtown area of Colorado Springs—slightly altered this night to accommodated starting from her station—and its southernmost stretch took her right up against the wall.
Ahead, it towered, riding the edge of an open courtyard of an office building and joining with another building across the street. The courtyard was smartly converted into a garden. Interlacing it were small paths. Mia’s route veered into the garden. On one side of her was the wall—a dark monolith—and on the other, the planters, tightly packed to converse space.
Had the sky not been clear, had the moon not been shining, Mia would not have seen the lump. She passed it but hesitated. Her first assumption was that she’d seen several bags of mulch piled on top of another. Never one to leave with only a guess, she drew the flashlight from her belt and flicked it on. The beam traveled along the path as she walked, turned, and illuminated the still-flushed features of a man tucked away between planters.
She shut the flashlight off instantly, the image burned onto her mind’s eye: the blood glistening around a gaping maw of a neck wound, having flowed down onto the man’s uniform, which was outfitted for guard duty atop the wall.
Mia turned and left. She continued her route, her grip tight over the stack of her flashlight, which she didn’t plan to return to her belt. Her muscles were tensing, preparing to lash out at any shadow that might detach itself. She wasn’t so concerned about the dead man. She was left thick skinned, an expert at appearing outwardly impassive, by her training in the years before the plague. Not to mention the apocalypse had a way of adding additional layers of callous. No, what concerned her, what set her mind racing, was that the guard’s rifle—the kind of weapon you’d bring into a warzone—hadn’t appeared to be on his person.
Mia left the courtyard at a slow jog, feeling the peach fuzz on her neck tingle as if somehow aware it was being sighted upon. Her expression remained neutral. Nothing had fired yet. Maybe it wouldn’t. A gunshot would wake up the whole city and bring its fury down on the shooter.
Her own footsteps were the only ones she heard as she returned to the streets. She only left her route and sped up once she was safely out of sight and away from any vantage point the killer might have had in the garden. The police precinct was close. She headed toward it to report the murder, certain it would be a long night.
Hm, so Colorado Springs had some trouble with murders as well... though this one seems a lot more messy than the relatively clean death Calvin has been given. My money is on Foxface being the one who has dispatched of this guard. The gaping wound on the dead man's neck could have been caused by that freaky chain-head he is using. That seems to prove me right that Foxface is going to be the main antagonist of this Colorado arc, maybe even the reason the community fell. Damn, I really hope that guy is already dead by the time the present day storyline is set, because I wouldn't want our dear expedition group to encounter him Anyways, a great part, short, but very intriguing. I look forward to learn just what exactly happened in Colorado Springs.
You know, just as I brought up Calvin, I had to think about that one as well. Someone obviously wanted to kill Laredo's only doctor with this move, but they still had enough respect for him to do it in a gentle way, without him even having to struggle. This gives me the impression that he was probably killed for pragmatic reasons. Whomever killed him likely had no problem with him and didn't act out of anger, but rather out of a certain goal they pursued. And I have reason to believe that it is the weakening of the community. Calvin has been their most valuable member thanks to his medical experience and his death made them weaker than ever before. And well, there is only one person who actually benefits from a weak Laredo community. It's Natalie, who was now free to pursue her own goal of splitting up Laredo into several smaller settlements. This doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing, maybe she genuinely believes that their chances of survival are better now, but still, it makes her my prime suspect. Not that he hasn't been the prime suspect already, but it gives my earler theory more material. Maybe I am onto something there... or maybe this is like Silicon's Evil Lana theory, where I end up suspecting a completely innocent person for far-fetched reasons
Mei Xia — Colorado Springs, CO — 10 Months In — 16-03: The buildings were negative spaces against the night sky. Mei Xia navigated her way t… morehrough the boulevard by starlight, studying the odd flicker of candlelight behind glass and drawn curtains high above her in thoughtful silence as she jogged.
Work had kept her later than it should have. The guard, who was supposed to relief her sharply at eight PM, had shown up half an hour late visibly drunk. Mia, of course, had refused to give her post—they weren’t guarding a tool shed, after all—and reported the infraction once a fresh guard was able to relieve her.
It had been nearly ten when she was finally able to leave. She had left her post and gone straight to her route, hurrying if she wanted to squeeze her nightly jog in before curfew, which loomed ahead—according to her watch, which was set to the community’s standardized clock and as close to Mountain Time as possible—in a mere thirtee… [view original content]
I really enjoyed Mei Xia in her introductory part. Being a guard, for the community would definitely be something she is good at. About the murder, I'm not certain it was fox face, but that seems to be the most likely case. How long into the apocalypse did Foxface kidnap James and send him down the river? I'm wondering, because I'm not sure how active Foxface was in his strange murderous activities, during this time, 10 months into the apocalypse.
Mei Xia — Colorado Springs, CO — 10 Months In — 16-03: The buildings were negative spaces against the night sky. Mei Xia navigated her way t… morehrough the boulevard by starlight, studying the odd flicker of candlelight behind glass and drawn curtains high above her in thoughtful silence as she jogged.
Work had kept her later than it should have. The guard, who was supposed to relief her sharply at eight PM, had shown up half an hour late visibly drunk. Mia, of course, had refused to give her post—they weren’t guarding a tool shed, after all—and reported the infraction once a fresh guard was able to relieve her.
It had been nearly ten when she was finally able to leave. She had left her post and gone straight to her route, hurrying if she wanted to squeeze her nightly jog in before curfew, which loomed ahead—according to her watch, which was set to the community’s standardized clock and as close to Mountain Time as possible—in a mere thirtee… [view original content]
Huh, well, it seems like I've forgotten to comment on the last few parts... That's my bad, but I'll do so now, going by storyline to save some time and battery life that my phone didn't have to begin with.
The storyline that I'm currently most intrigued with is Rosa Drive, mainly because the occupants are familiar characters, but also because I've kind of been on my toes about who exactly is coming to the farm and how the other groups are managing along with who they're made up of. That's if they're following Natalie's plan from the council meeting way back when. I'm also interested with how the characters themselves have changed in terms of, well, character (for lack of better word) since we've last seeng them.
Moving on, Alex's storyline had me concerned. I do enjoy Alex's character but my main concern was with the fact that Alex was more focused on his revenge plans than he was getting himself into a better position. I'm definitely not saying he should forgive Adrian and forget about Hannah (which is easier for some people but we see where it got them), but I do feel he put more energy into fantasies of revenge than anything else. However, Alex's storyline is the only one that I've only read once and that was when it was first posted, so he could have totally been using those revenge fantasies as a way of building himself up and gaining motivation. He's really the only one I'm currently willing to give the benefit of the doubt.
Oh good old Colorado, the state of mountain springs, snow, and the rare fox-faced lunatic. I'm going to go off of Mei Xia's part, because that's really the only foundation Colorado has in this chapter. I have to say that she seems to be a responsible woman, her reaction to finding a dead body seems relatable (can't confirm that much because I haven't found a dead body before and I would love to not do so) but anyways, final comments on her character hmmm, I do find her interesting for a dull reason, but I'll explain. Not only is she responsible, but she's also the only character who has run because she wanted to. All the others have run because they had to, given no other choice, but she does it recreationally, which I would say is something that makes her a likeable character to me. Now, Colorado Springs, or as autocorrect would love to put it, Collarbone Springs, has raised a few concerns, well not concerns but questions for me itself. My biggest question that for some reason won't go away is such: Colorado Springs was a big community, James said around 300 at his departure, so how did nobody see the body before Mei Xia? Now, if there was some sort of curfew in place or the area where the body was had been closed off to civilians, both of which seeming very probable in my mind, I could totally understand that.
Last but not least, the reading recommendations. I'm definitely going to look into a few of these books because they do seem to be very interesting and I've only gotten back into reading actual books recently. (In other news, I capped off a whole two more paragraphs in this one comment. Good God.)
Mei Xia — Colorado Springs, CO — 10 Months In — 16-03: The buildings were negative spaces against the night sky. Mei Xia navigated her way t… morehrough the boulevard by starlight, studying the odd flicker of candlelight behind glass and drawn curtains high above her in thoughtful silence as she jogged.
Work had kept her later than it should have. The guard, who was supposed to relief her sharply at eight PM, had shown up half an hour late visibly drunk. Mia, of course, had refused to give her post—they weren’t guarding a tool shed, after all—and reported the infraction once a fresh guard was able to relieve her.
It had been nearly ten when she was finally able to leave. She had left her post and gone straight to her route, hurrying if she wanted to squeeze her nightly jog in before curfew, which loomed ahead—according to her watch, which was set to the community’s standardized clock and as close to Mountain Time as possible—in a mere thirtee… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shattered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall of the hallway was torn off the walls, and it blanketed the floor in chunks and piles of dust, save for a little path carved by the passage of feet.
A drug house? He hoped it hadn’t been used recently, but couldn’t be sure. It was, however, a certainty that he wouldn’t find anything of use here.
He walked through the drywall and dead electrical wires, ripped from the walls like the veins of some desecrated corpse. He rested against the doorframe of the living room, looking in. Someone had cut open the couch and cushions and pulled out their stuffing.
Alex moved further down the hallway, passing a closet door hanging by a single hinge and a kitchen with its countertops demolished until he came to a bedroom. The walls had been torn out here as well, all over the bed, but he was past the point of caring.
The bed appeared intact under the debris, so that was one consolation. He walked around the bed, checking the other side of the room and finding nothing, then coaxed off the sheet off the two corners, and discovered he didn’t have the energy to it from the remaining ones. Pushing it as far to the side as he could manage, the sheet and the debris filling it and covering formed a little barrier atop the bed, facing the door.
The mattress was dirty and stained, but Alex couldn’t find a damn to give, and he eased himself onto it and looked up at what little remained of the ceiling. The dust he’d churned up swirled in the air above him in the fading light.
However much strength he’d started off with, it had left him entirely. The flame of hatred he had been clinging was dimmer. He tried to imagine all the ways he would hurt Adrian, but his pain and exhaustion had taken away his desire for such things along with his focus.
When night came, and the chill got to him, he drew the sheets over his body and lay awake with his eyes locked shut, trying to recapture his hate, fan the flames, but it was use. Eventually, exhaustion won over pain and he nodded off.
The screen door slammed and snapped him awake.
By force of will, Alex stifled a cough. The dust. Ah, shit. He hadn’t considered what inhaling it might do. His throat itched. His jaw tightened again, and his other muscles tensed as well, striking a horrible note of pain and nausea throughout his body.
Don’t gag.
He listened to the shoes pounding down the hall and shut his eyes again.
Shit shit shit.
They entered the bedroom, two pairs of footsteps, pushing through the debris on the floor. Alex heard their winded breath. They had been running, and now the crap they’d thrown into the air was making them cough and squeeze.
Alex was practically holding his breath. His nose tickled.
“Get under,” one of them barked, and Alex felt the bed rock and wondered, worried, why they were hiding under the bed. The speaker had been male. Beyond the fact that he sounded young, there were no other conclusions Alex could draw. He heard the same man speak again, and this time the voice came beneath him. “Quiet.”
It was an order. The other person didn’t speak. By the sounds of their coughing and squeezing, Alex guessed they were both male and now covered in drywall.
They hadn’t seen him. They’d been in too much of a rush to realize it.
But why?
That was when he heard it: a quick, rhythmic tapping on the tarmac. No sooner had Alex thought Hooves than the horse turned up the driveway and the hoofbeats changed pitch as they pounded gravel. It wasn’t the only set. More horses, presumably carrying riders, entered earshot and moved from to the road to the drive, heading toward the house.
The tickling on his nose grew too much, too unpleasant.
Shit.
Shit shit.
“Quiet,” the man under his bed whispered again to his companion.
F-fuc—
Alex squeezed. The man beneath him cursed with a start, and something hit the underside of the bed, likely his head, but Alex was too busy writhing in pain to take notice.
Boots fell on the boards of the porch. The screen door was wrenched open, and the steps of multiple people traveled up to the hall. They diverged throughout the house, raising such as racket that Alex almost didn’t pinpoint the steps that headed toward the bedroom and stopped outside the door.
Alex began to cough and squeeze simultaneously, uncontrollably. There was nothing he could do as someone ventured inside. He saw the barrel of the person’s pistol as dark tendrils coiled around him and his senses. Unconsciousness came, releasing him from the agony of his injuries.
My biggest question that for some reason won't go away is such: Colorado Springs was a big community, James said around 300 at his departure, so how did nobody see the body before Mei Xia? Now, if there was some sort of curfew in place or the area where the body was had been closed off to civilians, both of which seeming very probable in my mind, I could totally understand that.
A curfew was briefly mentioned in the part. Mei was rushing to finish her jog before it began. Since the people who tend the garden the guard was hidden in probably didn't work right up to curfew, he could have been killed several hours before Mei came across him, or maybe she discovered him within minutes of his death. It was mentioned that the guard was still flushed, so it's probably better to assume the latter.
Huh, well, it seems like I've forgotten to comment on the last few parts... That's my bad, but I'll do so now, going by storyline to save so… moreme time and battery life that my phone didn't have to begin with.
The storyline that I'm currently most intrigued with is Rosa Drive, mainly because the occupants are familiar characters, but also because I've kind of been on my toes about who exactly is coming to the farm and how the other groups are managing along with who they're made up of. That's if they're following Natalie's plan from the council meeting way back when. I'm also interested with how the characters themselves have changed in terms of, well, character (for lack of better word) since we've last seeng them.
Moving on, Alex's storyline had me concerned. I do enjoy Alex's character but my main concern was with the fact that Alex was more focused on his revenge plans than he was getting himself into a better position. I'm definitely n… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shatt… moreered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall … [view original content]
Ah, Alex again, in a wonderful part Strangely enough, I still think we made the right decision with him. He is in a bad shape and if he would have continued down the road, things could have gotten even more dire. Now he is only unconcious, but continuing that path could have legitimately killed him. Though he is in a bad situation now as well, I have the hope that he can explain to his captors, who will probably be the people who came on horseback, that he is not involved in any of this. Not everyone can shoot on sight, right? Or maybe the horse people are bad people, I wouldn't put that past them. I quite wonder who they are and what this situation is about in general. Apparently, they have been hunting for the two guys that have hidden beneath Alex' bed. If so, who are these guys and what have they done? Is there a legit reason for the horse people hunting for them? I got the feeling that at least the one that was quiet has not been here by his own free will, so maybe the guy who spoke is actually the bad one here? Ah, I guess the next Alex part will bring the answers. Until then, I look forward for the other storylines to resume as well
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shatt… moreered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall … [view original content]
I'm interested in how this is going to end up. And as to who the horseback group is, of course. A very good part indeed.
Now, I could definitely dissect the situation myself, and I actually have. However, my more likely theory is basically being carried by comments, rather than story evidence, which makes it just a tad bit off, to say the least
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shatt… moreered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall … [view original content]
This was an interesting part. Alex always seems to be in some kind of danger.
Anyways, the new telltale update won't all ow me to see the pm's we have sent eachother. Are you able to see our pm conversations? If so, can you send me a pm, so I can see the conversation? If not, we'll probably just need to start a new one.
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shatt… moreered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall … [view original content]
I am back! Sorry for being inactive for so long and not commenting on the story. I was having important exams for my future work and prepared for them for the last months. I had to remove myself from the internet completly to learn because I would have been too distracted if not XD I just wanted to let you know I am back now and try to be active again.
I love where the story has been heading to in the last months. I like Alexs storyline the most out of the new ones but like them all and I am very interested in where the story will go to. It also gave me an idea for a character to submit, if you still accept them. Because the character list is so full I will write you a PM to ask if you can use my idea soon!
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shatt… moreered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall … [view original content]
I am back! Sorry for being inactive for so long and not commenting on the story. I was having important exams for my future work and prepare… mored for them for the last months. I had to remove myself from the internet completly to learn because I would have been too distracted if not XD I just wanted to let you know I am back now and try to be active again.
I love where the story has been heading to in the last months. I like Alexs storyline the most out of the new ones but like them all and I am very interested in where the story will go to. It also gave me an idea for a character to submit, if you still accept them. Because the character list is so full I will write you a PM to ask if you can use my idea soon!
I'm okay! (Posting here as well to make sure everyone sees this update)
I never intended to worry anyone, but my silence has gone on far too long, and I'm sorry. Log-in issues have been troubling me recently, but it appears to be working for the moment. I'm not sure what I did. I think I clicked on "my account" while I had the log-in screen up, and it just started acting business as usual. I'll try to answer what PMs I can, but my feed won't load past yesterday.
I have parts in the works for Monument and Silicon County (the latter part far closer to completion) but I've let my attention slip to some projects. I've written a little flash fiction (stories under 1000 words), some of which I'll share real soon. I had a short story in mind for the last few months which hasn't materialized as I hoped, so I'm letting the premise sit and hopefully when I get back to it I'll be able to make something out of it.
....And I've been planning a novel. Starting in September I'm taking several classes, one of which is a Writer's Workshop of sorts. I don't know what to expect. We'll apparently be taking the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) system and stretching it over half a year or so. So yeah, that's the real attention-eater at the moment. While I am nervous and feel unprepared, I'm also excited. I've been thinking of up characters, the world, and a plot. As it stands, it will probably be a freaking weird post-apocalyptic/horror/dark fantasy combo.
And I've been reading. I've completed my challenge of reading 52 books and will tickle in some recommendations as I begin posting again. I've encountered some great stuff and I can't wait to talk about it!
Again, I would like to say I'm sorry for worrying everyone. While my motivation to write Monument and Silicon County has always waxed and waned, I understand your investment as readers and friends and would never abandon these stories. You've put as much, if not more, time and effort into following them. Abandoning them outright would be a kind of betrayal, one which I don't wish to make.
Anyway, I want to make progress on both stories before September when my classes will begin, because I suspect they're going to prove a distraction, so I better get back into the groove! I'll see you again soon with a new part for Silicon County, and Monument will continue soon as well
Edit: And the kittens are doing great! I'll try to post pictures, as they've grown quite a bit
Oh gosh, time flies. I'm sorry for this renewed absence. Monument and Silicon will continue, I'm just too sure when—I'm gonna try to get on top of them again, though. My writing class began this month and I got distracted trying to work out a few things about my project. Seeing the class schedule, and seeing it was beginning so soon, caused a moment a panic followed by immediately by several easing epiphanies. For one, I discovered my antagonist was right under my nose this whole time, and I've found the plot to go with the world and characters I've had in mind. Now I've been doing a lot of thinking, figuring other things out, about the story. The first class was several days ago. We did a few writing exercises, defined what a novel is, and broke down our favorite novels into the elements we enjoyed most to, maybe, get idea of what we should focus on. Thankfully, we're taking things slowly, so this first class was mostly conceptual. We'll be working on characters next. I'll keep you posted and will get my forum stories up and running again soon!
Ah, take your time You know we're patient and surely, my excitement for the next part will never fade even if it takes a bit longer until completion. The story is just that good and as much as I hope it'll continue soon, I fully understand that those other things are currently keeping you busy. They sound exciting as well, at least it means you won't come out of practice with writing. Quite the contrary. Always wanted to take writing classes myself, I hope you're going to have a lot of fun with them! Anyways, don't worry, we're all still going to be here when the next part hits, but still, thanks for the update!
Update
Oh gosh, time flies. I'm sorry for this renewed absence. Monument and Silicon will continue, I'm just too sure when—I'm gonna try … moreto get on top of them again, though. My writing class began this month and I got distracted trying to work out a few things about my project. Seeing the class schedule, and seeing it was beginning so soon, caused a moment a panic followed by immediately by several easing epiphanies. For one, I discovered my antagonist was right under my nose this whole time, and I've found the plot to go with the world and characters I've had in mind. Now I've been doing a lot of thinking, figuring other things out, about the story. The first class was several days ago. We did a few writing exercises, defined what a novel is, and broke down our favorite novels into the elements we enjoyed most to, maybe, get idea of what we should focus on. Thankfully, we're taking things slowly, so this first class was mostly conceptual.… [view original content]
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month — 16-06: When Alex finally woke up, he had all the usual aches and pains, plus an urge to cough. He found himself in a tent, lying on and amidst blankets, naked but for the blankets that covered him. It appeared to be day, for pinpricks of light penetrated the tight weave in places—a spell of warmth after what had been weeks of overcast. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on outside the tent: bustling, cursing, laughing. From some close by, he heard a whinny, and he recalled the events in the trashed house, the clop of hooves he had heard.
With care, he stretched his limbs. He received twinges of pain which, he knew, were warning of much greater pain to come if kept testing himself. But it was sufficient to find that the sensation of constraints he had been feeling was actually a cast, or perhaps several layers bandages. Whatever the case, he settled back into the blankets and seemed to doze for a while, comfortable in the knowledge that his injuries had been cared for: that had to mean something, had to mean he was safe, at least for now.
Sometime later, he awake came again, this time to the sound of footsteps right outside the tent flap. He propped himself as he best he could. As this person approached, they became dark silhouette against the canvas, one which now crouched and reached for the zipper.
When the man poked his head in, Alex was watching, and they met eyes.
Alex was surprised to the man was roughly his age of twenty-two. The man’s hair was red and shaggy, and he had several days’ growth of red beard on his jaw and upper lip. He moved further in, so Alex got enough of a look at his neck and shoulders to determine the man was muscular and, Alex would hazard, tall. Of his attire, Alex could see black tank top and, as the man climbed in entirely, jeans and socks. The boots he’d taken off were visible through the tent flap until the man closed it and zipped it back up.
The man was appraising Alex as well. Adrian’s beating had left innumerable bruises, which had turned a sickly yellow. Alex figured he was the opposite of a sight for sore eyes: a sight which made eyes sores.
“You’re a piece of work,” the man said at last. He paused afterward, waiting for a reply or, perhaps, a rebuttal.
Alex parted and licked his dry, cracked lips, gauging his ability to speak with a broken jaw. Before he could test himself, however, the man spoke up again.
“I’m Ryan,” he said. “What’s your name?”
Already the smallest movements had stirred up a dull pain. “Mason,” Alex said, for a moment puzzling even himself with the lie, but he had said it, and now thinking about it, maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to keep his name to himself.
“Mason,” Ryan repeated, slowly, almost savoring the name. “Well, Mason, you know of course of the two guys hiding under your bed. I imagine you do, lying right on top of them as you were. They claimed not to know that you were there, and they denied beating the shit out of you, but like I told them, likely story. So let me hear it from you. Did they do this to you?”
Lying, he decided, had no use in this regard. “No,” he answered, in a breath that was hardly a whisper, more an approximation of a word than anything else, as pain flared.
Evidently, Ryan heard him loud and clear. He was squatting on his heels in the tent, and now he leaned in closer. “Who did it, then?”
“Not the guys under the bed. But who are they?” It didn’t occur until after it said it that maybe the past tense was more appropriate for the question.
Ryan simply smiled. “A question for a question. Fine. I’ll deal.” He made himself more comfortable, sitting on crossed legs. “They’re just a pair of assholes who tried their hands at thievery and did a poor job of it, and an even poorer job of trying it on my band. So, they stole from us, some food, nothing else, and ran with it. We, of course, ran them down. Into the house you were lying in. Now, answer me: if they didn’t do this to you, who did?”
He’d had the entirety of Ryan’s little story to wonder what he was going to say, yet still he wasn’t sure. What would Ryan and his group do if they knew there was a community over yonder? he wondered. Would Ryan seek an angle? A chance for profit? That, he realized, was the only reason he was in their company: so they could profit from whatever he might be able to tell them. So yes, assuming they were just about bandits, they might be the type to conduct a raid, maybe a takeover. But maybe, Alex figured, that wasn’t such a bad thing, given his situation.
If he tried to do things on his own, beaten as he was, the task of freeing Hannah and getting back at Adrian was, admittedly, all but impossible. Yet if he brought a band like this back, his and Hannah’s chances would skyrocket. Hell, he didn’t care what Ryan and his people did with the college so long as it meant he got Hannah. And Adrian, of course.
But how to answer, and where to begin? Stroke his curiosity, he thought. So he answered slowly, vaguely, fleetingly as the pain rekindled in his jaw, “Adrian.”
Ryan nodded, holding his question. “Your turn, then. Ask away.”
“What will happen to those guys, the thieves?”
“They’ll be punished. I haven’t decided how, though I probably won’t kill them, if that what you were wondering. Now, my turn. Who’s Adrian?”
“He leads a community. Shittily. He’s mine.”
“The man smiled again. “I’m breaking order, I’m sorry, but I have to ask... yours?”
“Mine to kill, or not. And Hannah, my girlfriend: I want her back, want to save her. Everything else is yours… the supplies, the weapons… the whole place, if you’re willing to take it.”
There was an unhidden gleam of interest in the face watching him. “Here’s what will do. We’ll get you dressed—or if it suits you, you can stay like you are now. Either way, I have to step out for a moment, then, when I get back, you can tell me all about Adrian and his... community, as you called it. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Wonderful,” Ryan replied, then he pulled the zipper and disappeared through the tent flap before closing it behind him again, and once again, Alex was left alone.
To be continued...
At this point, I probably sound like a broken record, but nonetheless, I'm sorry for the delay. I have more classes starting up soon, so it might be unrealistic to make promises. That said, I'm going to try to get back on top of things. You'll be seeing me soon with new parts for Monument and Silicon County. Also, I've been having more trouble getting into my account and replying to messages, but these issues appear to have cleared up now. Lastly, a book I've read and liked:
The Deep by Nick Cutter: A disease, basically a rapid and more dramatic version of Alzheimer's, known as the ‘Gets is sweeping across the world. You start forgetting the little things, then the bigger things, then your body forgets how to regulate itself and stop breathing. There’s no way to arrest the disease’s progression, and no hope of a cure, until a mysterious substance is discovered in the Pacific. Quickly acquiring the name of Ambrosia, this substance is actually an organism, which may hold the key to immortality. A station is constructed in the Mariana Trench, from where this substance appears to have originated, and several scientists begin their studies and searches for more of this miracle cure-all. But not long after, the station goes silent.
Like The Troop, I couldn’t put this novel down and I ended up blowing through it in the same two-day timeframe. And unlike The Troop, fortunately, the characters don’t do stupid crap, and when they do make questionable decisions, it’s not just for the hell of it, which really helps to put this ahead of The Troop. One of the few flaws are the flashbacks. It’s not that they’re uninteresting—they are, for the most part, very interesting, especially the earlier ones—just that they negatively affect the pacing. By the end, however, I completely understand their inclusion, as they tie heavily into the overarching story. But still, I dig it. I don’t know how else to describe The Deep but as devastating. It’s among some of the bleakest horror novels I’ve read, and among my favorites.
Comments
[The Northern bedroom—overlook of the field, pleasant wallpaper.] He's gonna have to get used to it.
[The Northern Bedroom—overlook of the field, pleasant wallpaper.]
Wait, the apocalypse started in 2003 in the story? That is a detail I have seriously not seen so far. This changes... well, not much, but it is a more than interesting detail. Technically, that would mean Bush as the president, although he is one of the few presidents I could actually see not surviving the apocalypse XD I mean, you could use him if you feel confident with using a real existing person in the story, although I guess nobody would mind if you decide to use a president you created for the story. A great majority of shows does it that way.
Oh, this is bad, we really dodged a bullet there. Twice actually. I mean, this was far from a happy ending to the chapter, but I am oddly relieved how much loss we managed to avert with our choices here. This is pretty nice. Now we only need to pick even more carefully later on.
Oh, I see. This is surely interesting, although it brings up another question here: Does this mean that the other group could have had casualties as well if we would have picked Violet to accompany the trio? Or would they have been generally save if we would have decided to split up?
Yeah. While it's never been specifically stated and no real timeline has been heavily adhered to, 2003 was the year the apocalypse began. In the Rosa Drive storyline, it's October 2004. Anyway, I admittedly know very little about Bush. While a made up president might be the better solution, part of me really wants to make George Bush a wandering, zombie-slaying survivor, however unrealistic that is XD
I'm happy with the outcome myself. I don't know if I could have gone through with a killing some of them. Original plans had Maria a possible casualty along with Asher, but that never came up, and in hindsight, I don't think I could ever go through with killing her. It was hard to kill off Kurt and James—that can probably be seen just from how little I lingered on their deaths.
The latter. Violet's absence from the group heading the long way around would not have left them open to extra danger. Her presence at the bridge scene just would have been required to pull the others there out of a tight spot.
Voting is closed!
(!) Daniel will choose the bedroom with pleasant wallpaper a view field to the north
There aren't any hidden consequences in this choice. What it will affect are some circumstances for the future parts and chapters as well as generally the setting of Daniel's scenes. I should say, in the future, most of Daniel's choice aren't going to affect the world around him as much as they affect himself—that might be important to bear in mind.
I've been meaning to announce this for some time but hadn't ever found the moment, so I'm doing it now: I'm going to close character submissions after chapter 16 concludes, or some time soon after. I have more than enough characters to see me through to the end. These last two acts are going to have to be much larger and more expansive than the previous acts just so I can include as many as I can them in the main story. Beyond that, I will plan to use one-shots to utilize any leftover characters. It's hard to believe we're so far past the half point!
Recent reads:
I must have seriously missed that. I thought the apocalypse started in 2015, when the story started as well. This is very interesting. With Bush, well, it's actually not entirely unrealistic. He is from Texas, so he would fit into the setting. Being a very conservative person and having served in the military basically also means that he owns guns and knows how to use them. And 2003 has been long before his massive drop in popularity, so his chances of survival are arguably not the worst
Oh, good lord, this would have crushed me
As much as I am sad about the deaths of Kurt and James, Maria and Asher would have been so much worse. We really dodged a couple of bullets, because even Asher would have been a big loss, or Danny. I could have lived with Domenick and Tom and I probably wouldn't have been too crushed about Violet, but there's this hard core of the expedition group which I wouldn't want to miss. Actually, James has been among them as well, so his death is one of the hardest so far, all the way up there with Anthony and Jordan for me.
Damn it, that was the choice we did wrong. I knew it would happen sooner or later, that we'd misjudge such a crucial situation, but it seems Violet could have become a real badass in this chapter, saving the others and stuff. It's interesting how much my opinion on her improved over the course of this one chapter. She still has a long way to go, but I got a good feeling for her.
Updated:
There are kittens in my room. Two. Hobbs and Nate. For now, they sleep, but my hands are lacerated and I don't think I'm finished scrubbing up poop from the carpet. I had written up most of the next part (which will takes us to East Texas) but was unable to complete it before these little bastards entered my home and shat on the carpet under my bed.
Alas, they're adorable. I'll post pictures soon. I thankfully finished writing the next Silicon County part. All it requires is a little editing and then I can post it today. I'll be working on finishing the next Monument part but I really can't make any promises for a timely release thanks to the fluffy distractions requiring care and attention.
Another thing I should mention is I don't we're going on vacation after all (it's not completely off the table, but it seems very unlikely to happen now). I will still be going out of town for a bit sometime this month because my grandmother is having surgery. Everything should be fine, but I'll let you all know how it goes.
I've got awful luck with cats and I couldn't even handle one of them myself, let alone two, so I can only wish you the best of luck there.
I don't really know if I can speak for everyone when I say this next part, but I'm highly confident that I do.
Take your time and don't stress about it, we can wait. You've got a lot on your plate, it seems like, and kittens and cats alike are rambunctious and can easily get into trouble, so don't let Hobbs and Nate get into too much trouble.
Also, I'm sorry to hear about the vacation and your grandmother, and I hope she does well with the surgery and recovers easily, painlessly, and happily.
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-02: Through the red lens of an eye swollen to a slit, Alex watched clouds drift like slowly migrating landmasses on a map draw up by a drunk cartographer. His other eye was either fully swollen shut or dead and blinded. He didn’t know which it was. He didn’t particularly care which because his entire body was a mess of throbbing breaks and wounds and in some places, a certain, more worrying numbness.
His brain worked ferverishly to conjure—through the ebb and flow of pain and the gunshot-like projectile of agony which stuck him each time the truck hit a bump, and with a high amount of incoherence—a thought: I’ll kill him.
His second thought was Hannah and filled with guilt for having thought of her second. He had know idea what Adrian had done with her, or done to her. Alex remembered some of the things Hannah had told him about Adrian’s passes at her made during her first few months at Hiddleston College—before the dead had even begun walking—and the simple act of remembrance made his blood want to boil, and it would have if he hadn’t lost so much of it. Hannah was in danger. She needed help. He knew, even in his delirium, that wherever he was being driven, it was away from the campus. He didn’t know what destination waited for him, or what waited for him at that destination, but whatever it was, he didn’t want it. He wanted to go back to the campus, to rescue Hannah… to kill Adrian.
Alex was not a violent person at his core. He had never sought to cause harm to another human being—save for the times in his youth, back when he lived in Santa Barbara, when his so-called friends had made fun of him for his mother’s adultery until he would lash out—until now. He entertained many violent fantasies.
Adrian at gunpoint…
Adrian kneeling before me, a baseball bat prepared to strike…
Adrian prone, his jaw sitting on the curb… Me, boot raised high, preparing to stump...
These, Alex figured, probably weren’t healthy in the slightest, but they helped keep the pain out of his mind. He made the mistake of asking himself Just how am I supposed to do any of this? and injecting realism into his wonderings. He came to the conclusion that none were likely possible given his state of health. He was fucked up, had more fractured bones than he could add up, could hardly see, and was probably in worse shape than that time he was hit by a car before he and his father moved out of California. This time there weren’t any hospitals, doctors, nurses, or physical rehab centers for him to make another absurd, slow, and painful recovery. He would never fully recover, much less make a partial recovery. Things would inevitably heal wrong. He was, in a word, broken.
He held onto another fantasy and didn’t let this one die, or fade, or allow him himself to inject realism to it: this time Adrian was the one tied down to the chair, and Alex was the one asking the former mathematics professor questions, asking him why he was such a horrible leader, asking him why he saw fit to be such a creep, and every time Adrian attempted to defend himself with excuses and lies, Alex would use the same baseball bat Adrian had used on him during his own interrogation, use it in just the same way as Adrian had.
As he thought it over and rehearsed his questions and imagined how he would swing the bat, the sky and clouds above became more abstract and strange. Even the pain from the pickup bed bouncing seemed to fade. The motivations and notions of those driving him wherever they were driving him became less and less consequential. His eye shut fully… because his head still hurt… and after a moment of shuteye, he opened it again, and it was no longer a blue morning—it was a red evening. He was no longer in the pickup bed—he was lying in grass, and could feel the chilling morning dew soaking his clothes, wetting the dried blood covering his shirt and jeans.
He inhaled fully in surprise at this revelation and the action sent waves of agony rolling and echoing through his torso and limbs as he writhed. It began to subsided into the odd, jolting spasm. Once it had settled, he lay still in the unmowed grass. He breathed shallow, if still agonizing, breaths and tried to think over what had happened.
The drivers had, he knew, been ordered to see to his execution, which was probably going to be a quiet ordeal, far away from campus. They had left him alive instead. Unless they were still around and planning to finish him off at any moment. Maybe they were waiting for him to regain consciousness. Though, that seemed unlikely given that his loud sufferings just a few minutes ago would have draw their attention. More likely, he guessed, they had just abandoned him in some ditch rather than get their hands dirty.
This thought sparked anger in him.
He realized he would have to move eventually. He couldn’t just lay here under the open sky until some of the dead came wandering up to him for a snack. And it would be night soon. Still, it was a daunting prospect after the pain from just taking a full breath, so he started slow and simple: he flexed his fingers, hands, and wrists—a little scraped up from the chaos outside the Admin building and the scuffle he had with a guard during his apprehension, but otherwise intact. Next he moved up to his arms and moved them—pain emitted from many deep bruises along his arms instantly, but despite wincing from the pain, nothing felt broken, just horribly battered. His legs were a worse affair—one kneecap might have been fractured from taking a hit from Adrian’s bat and something was wrong with the shin of his other leg—so he figured he’d been walking with a limp, if he managed to walk at all.
He would have to try first to find out.
The ground beneath him was canted. Turning his head and neck slightly, feeling pain by doing so, but mostly numbness, he could see where the embankment fell and rose again on the other side of a small trickle of water. He could try to rolling downslope to get on his stomach and, maybe, onto his feet from there, but he imagined what would happen if he couldn’t rolling, the torment that would inflict, and the possibility he would drown himself in that poor excuse for a creek.
He figured, with the full use of his arms, he would be able to stop himself. If not... He decided not to give it any more thought and threw his weight. White hot pain surged as he turned over. He quickly scrambled onto his knees, despite the horrible sensation it caused, to relieve the weight from his chest and face. He shuddered there on his hands and knees, black dots dancing in his vision, strifling his gasps so his broken ribs wouldn’t cause him to blackout.
He remained in this position for a long time as the pain faded away. Most of it didn’t. The pain in his knee was burning while his legs remained bent. Bile churned in his stomach. He knew he was on the verge of vomiting despite having had nothing to eat since breakfast on the day of the coup, which he thought of as two days ago but now realized could have been much longer.
His jaw. He worked his jaw and felt pain flare in the numbness of his face like a candle in darkness. And the darkness, the numbness, was slowly fading. He imagined what it would feel like to dry heave with a broken jaw.
He tried to stand, succeeded, and blacked out for half a second before he blinked the darkness away and staggered, catching himself but at the cost of another intense burn of pain from all his wounds as his muscles fired, contracted, and spasmed. He somehow remained standing.
Which way? he thought, looking down both ends of the highway, east and west, the glowing orb of the sun visible to the west. He needed to go east. He looked that way at the dark purple filling the sky, at the stalled cars littering the road, at the road which had been cleared haphazardly and incompletely, at the tall pines trees lining either side.
He moved forward in that direction. Pained surged. He had to force himself not to grit his teeth. He managed a dozen steps before, feeling dizzy, he had to stop out of fear of collapsing. He had limped, but he knew he could do it. He could make it. He had to make it. He pictured Adrian tied to the chair, himself with all the control, and managed another thirty steps before the pain made it difficult to concentrate on the fantasy. He took a rest.
I can do it, he thought, trying not to inhale too deeply as his body demanded he pant.
Alex looked to his right and saw a lane breaking off from the highway. In between the tall tree trunks and greenery, he could see that the little drive led to a house. He could rest or look for first aid supplies there. A mad dash back to the college was not sustainable. He would have to stop eventually. Daylight was running out, though. Should he try to make the most of the remaining evening and stop, rest, and further evaluate his situation somewhere down the road, or do so now and loose his first evening?
[Press on and find somewhere to rest down the road.]
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
I just think this would be safer for Alex and easier for him to do, given his current circumstances.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
Also, I just remembered a question I had. It had slipped my mind long ago and it has returned, so if I may, I'd like to ask it now.
It was mentioned in the interlude that Adrian's last name is Francis, just like a Daniel Francis we know from Laredo. Do the two share any relationship, or is it just a coincidence? Though, I'm sure it's the latter, I'm overall curious about it.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
I just think that this makes the most sense for him.
By the way, Happy Easter everybody!
This was a great first part for Alex' storyline. I really liked his small segment from the interlude, so I was happy to see him back so soon. I guess this is the darker storyline you mentioned, because man, it already started very dark, but also very intriguing. Well done there, with setting up his situation and whole. It is already a pretty intense storyline, one I could see growing even better in time and I am surely exicted for it.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
Alex is wounded, tired and in generally poor condition. Who knows what dangers await down the road, but it is better to face them while slightly more well-rested and in daylight. Maybe he'll even find valuable supplies in the house, first aid stuff or food. In any way, he might be able to find a nice place to rest. It seems safer than going down the road and having to hope for another house, or any place to rest, which is likely going to be far less comfortable than this house.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
Hey Nohope, I sent you a pm.
Man, Alex is in a really bad situation right now.
[Rest until morning at the house at hand.]
It would be best for him to get some rest and hopefully just be safer for a bit.
They're devouring my free time. And I swear these kittens spend more time at each other's throats than they do sleeping. Thankfully, I was able to trim Hobbs's claws, but Nate is being difficult in that regard and I haven't been able to get him to sit still long enough to trim them. My hands are flayed. And they've caught fleas from our older cats, which is the worst.
I really appreciate it! I actually visited my grandmother on Sunday at her house and things went very well! She isn't going to go to the hospital for surgery for a bit. While I visited, we made gluten free cookies out of cake mix, since she has a bad wheat allergy, and they turned out surprisingly well.
It's less a coincidence and more of an oversight on my part. I didn't know Adrian's last name since his character is embedded in Alex and Hannah's submissions, and I gave Danny the same last name without realizing it. There's no relation between them.
The last cat I've owned was an extremely fat cat who gave the litter box no glance, which was the reason we gave him away. We ended up getting him declared after he got his claw stuck in throat. If that doesn't explain my luck with cats, I don't know what will. Regardless, it's better to keep their nails under control while they're still young to get them used to the idea of trimming their nails, making less of a fuss when they get older. Fleas have been a total pain for my Schnauzer. The other two dogs haven't gotten them, but the one dog we have who is allergic to them got them to the point where he nearly scratched his skin raw. I do feel bad about the cats getting them, though, because cats are seriously more difficult to bathe than dogs are.
It's good that you got to see her and baked with her, I'm sure she appreciated the visit. Gluten free products are actually pretty good, and they are occasionally even better than wheat based products. Really, my philosophy says that it's the smaller things in life that matter the most, along with every moment spent with a loved one, so I'm almost positive the visit made her happy.
Voting is closed!
(!) Alex will make his way to the nearby house and rest
I'm looking forward to Alex's following part, as this choice puts him into an interesting scenario that I'm excited to write out. This was definitely the better option from the foreseeable reasons for picking it, but we'll have to see what unforeseeable things it might cause.
I have a positive update on my grandmother! While I wasn't able to accompany my father out of town to the hospital, he was relaying the good news as it came (he got back home safe today). It's been a few days since the bypass surgery, and she's been doing well. There's even talk she might be moved out of the Immediate Care Unit. At first, they were keeping her sedated to make sure her body had time to recoup from the surgery. Then after they woke her up, they had her do a little walking, which she was able to do! If there's more to say, I'll make sure to mention it, but it seems everything's going well from here on out.
Recent reads:
Lastly...
Kittens! The fluffy orange and white guy to the left is named Hobbs (and occasionally called Kristofferson). He chirps. The black and white guy is Nate. His full name is Nathanial and at times he is also called Nathan. He sort of screeches with a very high tone. I've had them for about eleven days and they're doing good! Unfortunately, they've caught fleas from our other cats, but I'm going to start bathing them to take care of that in addition to some combing them regularly.
I am very glad to hear that your grandmother recovered nicely from her surgery and that the whole procedure went so well. These are really good news
Also, kittens! My god, now we are officially part of the internet, there's cat pictures here
Seriously though, these are adorable. I can't say I have much experience with kittens, but just seeing them makes me contemplate about buying a kitten. Man, they are ridiculously cute! I can only imagine that it has been a serious amount of work to get both of them to sit still and pay attention enough for you to take a picture 
I remember seeing the movie quite a couple of years ago, though I am afraid I cannot really remember much of it. I think I liked it though. I must also admit that I did not know it originated as a book. But this is interesting! As said, I think I liked the movie, so maybe that would be something for me. Horror novels are always a delight, even if I usually don't really like horror movies.
Now this is very interesting. I wasn't sure this is the kind of novel you like, as the topic is surely not for everyone. I know the book, and my grandma even has it in her collection, first edition if I am not mistaken, which she inherited from her father. I haven't gotten around to read it though, since her copy has to be nearly 90 years old and I am a bit intimidated by that thought, as well as a bit too afraid to accidentally damage it. It's also written in old german letters, which are truly a pain to read
But I am well aware of the book, heard a lot of good about it.
I appreciate it! There's also more good news: she got into physical therapy several days ago and it's being covered by her insurance. She's doing good. And if all goes to plan, we'll be visiting her sometime this weekend.
They're wonderful, but a handful (Nate just dropped into their water dish from above as I'm writing this). They're innately curious, so it was actually really easy to get them to gather near the camera. It's also hard for them to be photogenic when they're sleeping. :P I might post pictures of them here and there. I recently took few that I like a lot and they have a knack for looking silly.
If you check it out, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! It's a real treat despite how dark it gets. Like I mentioned, the novel's a lot broader than the film, and I think like the extra length and subplots serve the story well—it never felt padded. Plus, the writing itself is pretty phenomenal, if you ask me. I picked Lindqvist's next novel, Handling the Undead, and I'm really itching to dig into it.
Wow, that's really awesome! I would be nervous about handling such an old edition as well. I'd say it's well worth finding a secondhand copy just to read. I'd think it would be available at a library, given its age and recognition. It's the first piece of classic literature I've really ever read (and, as you said, it's definitely unlike what I normally read—I was going partly off InGen's recommendation from way back in this thread) and I strongly feel it's one of the best things I've read yet.
Daniel Martinez — Rosa Drive, Central Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-04: Early in the morning, after his first night spent in the farmhouse, Daniel opened his eyes and looked at the blue-gray light seeping through the curtains. For a time after rising from bed, he stood in front of the window, letting the same damp breeze that stirred the field cool his arms, chest and face. He then put on his shoes and wandered down the hall, but paused before he started downstairs.
The door to the child’s bedroom was cracked. He stepped back around the banister and walked toward the door, wondering if the ghost was relieved or resentful that he didn’t choose to occupy its room. Whatever the case, when he entered, he found the room empty, or so it appeared. He approached the window, saw something moving in the beyond the smudged glass, and opened it to have a look.
In the weak light, a lone figure parted the weeds and dying cornstalks in the middle of one of the fields. Daniel watched, transfixed, his heart suddenly pounding, as the figure clumsily carved a path and stepped onto the driveway. It paused there, making a few indecisive steps, first in the direction of the farmhouse, then toward the county road. Finally, it crossed the driveway, reentered the field, and began ambling a crooked path toward the property’s western boundary. The breeze shifted and brought the figure’s fermenting stink to Daniel’s nostrils.
He groaned sickly and shut the window again before leaving. Downstairs he stopped in front of his parents’ door and knocked. There was no answer, so he peeked inside, but saw no one. He looked around the rest of the bottom floor. Empty. He stepped out onto the back porch and he heard something roar in the barn.
Wide-eyed, Daniel watched the giant doors. Again, the roar boomed out, followed by a sputter before it died down. Was it an animal, Daniel wondered, or a monster, something nightmarish? He began to edge backward and, when the sound flared up again and didn’t stop and the barn door flew open, he sprinted back into the house.
The roar was now a continuous note, and it was on the move. When Daniel worked up the courage to peek out. he saw Atlanta maneuvering a lawnmower around the backyard while Ashley latched the barn doors. Feeling silly but remembering the walker, Daniel emerged from the house. Ashley saw him before he could try to get her attention and yelled something into Atlanta’s ear, who nodded, smiled at Daniel, and continued to mow. Ashley jogged up to the porch.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
“There’s a walker,” he murmured.
“Oh.” She frowned. “Where?”
“In front of the house. In the field. I saw it through the window upstairs.”
She sighed. “Thanks for telling me. Wait here while I let Atlanta know.” She ran off.
Atlanta shut off the lawnmower as they spoke. They moved on without it, Ashley gesturing for Daniel to follow them. He hurried after them through the grass, following them around the house. The adults halted several yards from field. They’d heard something. He listened as well and the sound repeated itself: clumsy feet, weeds being crushed.
Ashley sighed again, slipping the safety off on her pistol but leaving it holstered. Instead, she drew a knife, its edge sharpened and well-maintained. Before advancing into the overgrown field, she asked Atlanta to come with her. Atlanta nodded, led Daniel over to the front porch and told him to sit tight until they got back—it would only take a second.
She drew her own blade and together she and Ashley entered the field, soon wandering out of sight, though Daniel could still hear the receding sounds of their movement. He ran to the steps and got on the porch, then climbed onto the railing. The surface of it was flat and easy to stand on, and he had a perfect perspective on the field. There were three wakes being made, and Daniel could the tops of his parents’ head. The walker was hunched and just hidden from sight. Daniel held his breath. His parents were converging on the walker, and the walker had already left the barbed wire fence in favor of their direction, likely having heard them. Daniel watched, more concerned for his parents than awed by their strategy, as they split up and closed in on the walker from opposite sides The walker, its attention momentarily torn between the two sources of commotion, ultimately advanced in Ashley’s direction. After it had turned, Atlanta shot forward and buried her pocket knife in the walker’s skull. It toppled, leaving, from Daniel’s point of view, a small gap in the field where its body lay, and there was silence save for the hymn of the field in the breeze.
“Daniel!” Ashley called. “Go get the wheelbarrow from the barn!”
Breathless, Daniel lowered himself down to the grass and ran around to the back. The wheelbarrow, tipped on its nose and tucked into a corner of the barn, took some effort to unwedge, but once it was, Daniel was able to wheel it, albeit awkwardly, to the front of the house. Ashley was waiting at the edge of the field, ready to take it from him when he arrived.
“Wait here,” she told him, and pushed the wheelbarrow into the field. Many of the weeds closed again in her wake, but some, treaded on by her boots and the single wheel, remained parted, leaving a curving path. Eventually the her trajectory took her away from his line of sight and he ran back to the porch to see if he could see them work, but all he could see were their heads, strained with exertion and disgust, as they carefully lifted something together.
He descended the porch steps again and, keeping his distance, waited as they emerged with the laden wheelbarrow, at which point he saw it.
The walker was sprawled inside, its arms tucked next to its torso, its legs hanging over the lip. It was male, or had been. Its face was decayed and infused with a sort of feral expression that was somewhat lulled by death—now it almost appeared sleepy. Daniel stared at it without feeling sick, or even really being disturbed. It seemed to merely be a human corpse, dug up, perhaps, from its grave. What he felt might have been pity. He averted his gaze to escape those feelings and instead looked down at his wrist—the waterproof watch, with its slick design and inlaid compass along band, said it was thirteen minutes till six. It wouldn’t be long before the others arrived.
To be continued...
Post-part Notes:
It's scary how fast time flies. A few more days and it would have been about a month since the last part, and it hardly feels like it's been that long. I'm sorry for the delay. I'll try to get back on track with my writing this month. The kittens continue to prove to be fluffy little distractions, and since I used to always write alone, it's been interesting adjusting to their presence, but I think I've used to them. Also, I visited my grandmother last week—everything went every well, she's doing great, and she's likely to go home soon in the future!
Recent reads:
Ah, I haven't even noticed that it was almost a month! All I knew was, it's been longer than I am comfortable with and I had withdrawal symptoms already
It was, as always, a very nice part. I dig this calmer stuff, but also seeing things from Daniel's perspective for once, which differs so wildly from the perspective of the adults he usually interacts with. The atmosphere is generally a peaceful one, however, this gave me the bad feeling that things might not stay that way. One thing I am a bit worried about is that the others have not arrived yet. While I don't know if this is unusual or not, I am naturally worried about this, because as I said before, I doubt things will remain that peaceful. I still wonder who will be with them. I think Josie and Jake are certain to join them, given that they are basically family, but I doubt they will travel alone, as capable as both are when it comes to survival. I wonder how many people will live at Rosa Drive in general, as just Atlanta, Ashley, Daniel, Josie and Jake might be a bit few. I hope for a couple of strong, capable survivors to keep them safe, but some of their best have left for the expedition. Ah, the wait is killing me, I cannot wait to find out more 
Also, I am glad to hear that your grandmother's recovery is going so well that she can even go home in the near future. Those are very great news and I wish her recovery to be as short as possible.
Good Omes, ah, glad you got around to read it. It's certainly one of my favourite books ever, featuring two of my favourite authors at their absolute best. A classic for sure. Like you, the Witchfinders have been my least favourite part of the novel, but I also found myself enjoyed them. In fact, they are only my least favourite part because everything else has been even better. A lovely novel, with lots of great humour and one I surely should reread soon
And Mort, another one of my favourites. Though I find myself enjoying the later books of the Death series even more (particularly Reaper Man and Hogfather are outstanding), but it is nonetheless one of my favourite Discworld novels, even if it has been a long time since I last read it. I am curious, which cameo do you mean? As said, it has been a bit of a time since I last read it, so I may have forgotten about some of the details.
Interesting part. I wonder if I should be concerned or relieved that Walkers have become a normal thing that Daniel's adjusted to. I think it's important to know a child's state of mind, especially in the Walking Dead.
Mei Xia — Colorado Springs, CO — 10 Months In — 16-03: The buildings were negative spaces against the night sky. Mei Xia navigated her way through the boulevard by starlight, studying the odd flicker of candlelight behind glass and drawn curtains high above her in thoughtful silence as she jogged.
Work had kept her later than it should have. The guard, who was supposed to relief her sharply at eight PM, had shown up half an hour late visibly drunk. Mia, of course, had refused to give her post—they weren’t guarding a tool shed, after all—and reported the infraction once a fresh guard was able to relieve her.
It had been nearly ten when she was finally able to leave. She had left her post and gone straight to her route, hurrying if she wanted to squeeze her nightly jog in before curfew, which loomed ahead—according to her watch, which was set to the community’s standardized clock and as close to Mountain Time as possible—in a mere thirteen minutes.
The weight of the city’s gaze was on her shoulders and back as she followed the reflective yellow line. The sidewalks, the streets themselves, were empty, but she didn’t let herself think she was alone—they were watching from above and behind glass, glimpsing her in the lit cones of streetlights as a blur of dark clothing and short hair, a moon of a face and little else in the moment they had to see her. Her pace was quick, limber, and more importantly, consistent—she could run for like this for hours. Most people assumed just she was gearing for a change in her career, maybe to a scout, or scavenger, or even a courier. Had they knew the truth, that it was just cathartic exercise, many would have probably have scoffed at such a waste of calories. It wasn’t a waste, she believed, if it kept you together. Boredom and monotony, as she routinely experienced as a guard, could drive you insane, or at least depressed—she could do without either.
Her route wound around the downtown area of Colorado Springs—slightly altered this night to accommodated starting from her station—and its southernmost stretch took her right up against the wall.
Ahead, it towered, riding the edge of an open courtyard of an office building and joining with another building across the street. The courtyard was smartly converted into a garden. Interlacing it were small paths. Mia’s route veered into the garden. On one side of her was the wall—a dark monolith—and on the other, the planters, tightly packed to converse space.
Had the sky not been clear, had the moon not been shining, Mia would not have seen the lump. She passed it but hesitated. Her first assumption was that she’d seen several bags of mulch piled on top of another. Never one to leave with only a guess, she drew the flashlight from her belt and flicked it on. The beam traveled along the path as she walked, turned, and illuminated the still-flushed features of a man tucked away between planters.
She shut the flashlight off instantly, the image burned onto her mind’s eye: the blood glistening around a gaping maw of a neck wound, having flowed down onto the man’s uniform, which was outfitted for guard duty atop the wall.
Mia turned and left. She continued her route, her grip tight over the stack of her flashlight, which she didn’t plan to return to her belt. Her muscles were tensing, preparing to lash out at any shadow that might detach itself. She wasn’t so concerned about the dead man. She was left thick skinned, an expert at appearing outwardly impassive, by her training in the years before the plague. Not to mention the apocalypse had a way of adding additional layers of callous. No, what concerned her, what set her mind racing, was that the guard’s rifle—the kind of weapon you’d bring into a warzone—hadn’t appeared to be on his person.
Mia left the courtyard at a slow jog, feeling the peach fuzz on her neck tingle as if somehow aware it was being sighted upon. Her expression remained neutral. Nothing had fired yet. Maybe it wouldn’t. A gunshot would wake up the whole city and bring its fury down on the shooter.
Her own footsteps were the only ones she heard as she returned to the streets. She only left her route and sped up once she was safely out of sight and away from any vantage point the killer might have had in the garden. The police precinct was close. She headed toward it to report the murder, certain it would be a long night.
To be continued...
Hm, so Colorado Springs had some trouble with murders as well... though this one seems a lot more messy than the relatively clean death Calvin has been given. My money is on Foxface being the one who has dispatched of this guard. The gaping wound on the dead man's neck could have been caused by that freaky chain-head he is using. That seems to prove me right that Foxface is going to be the main antagonist of this Colorado arc, maybe even the reason the community fell. Damn, I really hope that guy is already dead by the time the present day storyline is set, because I wouldn't want our dear expedition group to encounter him
Anyways, a great part, short, but very intriguing. I look forward to learn just what exactly happened in Colorado Springs.
You know, just as I brought up Calvin, I had to think about that one as well. Someone obviously wanted to kill Laredo's only doctor with this move, but they still had enough respect for him to do it in a gentle way, without him even having to struggle. This gives me the impression that he was probably killed for pragmatic reasons. Whomever killed him likely had no problem with him and didn't act out of anger, but rather out of a certain goal they pursued. And I have reason to believe that it is the weakening of the community. Calvin has been their most valuable member thanks to his medical experience and his death made them weaker than ever before. And well, there is only one person who actually benefits from a weak Laredo community. It's Natalie, who was now free to pursue her own goal of splitting up Laredo into several smaller settlements. This doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing, maybe she genuinely believes that their chances of survival are better now, but still, it makes her my prime suspect. Not that he hasn't been the prime suspect already, but it gives my earler theory more material. Maybe I am onto something there... or maybe this is like Silicon's Evil Lana theory, where I end up suspecting a completely innocent person for far-fetched reasons
I really enjoyed Mei Xia in her introductory part. Being a guard, for the community would definitely be something she is good at. About the murder, I'm not certain it was fox face, but that seems to be the most likely case. How long into the apocalypse did Foxface kidnap James and send him down the river? I'm wondering, because I'm not sure how active Foxface was in his strange murderous activities, during this time, 10 months into the apocalypse.
Huh, well, it seems like I've forgotten to comment on the last few parts... That's my bad, but I'll do so now, going by storyline to save some time and battery life that my phone didn't have to begin with.
The storyline that I'm currently most intrigued with is Rosa Drive, mainly because the occupants are familiar characters, but also because I've kind of been on my toes about who exactly is coming to the farm and how the other groups are managing along with who they're made up of. That's if they're following Natalie's plan from the council meeting way back when. I'm also interested with how the characters themselves have changed in terms of, well, character (for lack of better word) since we've last seeng them.
Moving on, Alex's storyline had me concerned. I do enjoy Alex's character but my main concern was with the fact that Alex was more focused on his revenge plans than he was getting himself into a better position. I'm definitely not saying he should forgive Adrian and forget about Hannah (which is easier for some people but we see where it got them), but I do feel he put more energy into fantasies of revenge than anything else. However, Alex's storyline is the only one that I've only read once and that was when it was first posted, so he could have totally been using those revenge fantasies as a way of building himself up and gaining motivation. He's really the only one I'm currently willing to give the benefit of the doubt.
Oh good old Colorado, the state of mountain springs, snow, and the rare fox-faced lunatic. I'm going to go off of Mei Xia's part, because that's really the only foundation Colorado has in this chapter. I have to say that she seems to be a responsible woman, her reaction to finding a dead body seems relatable (can't confirm that much because I haven't found a dead body before and I would love to not do so) but anyways, final comments on her character hmmm, I do find her interesting for a dull reason, but I'll explain. Not only is she responsible, but she's also the only character who has run because she wanted to. All the others have run because they had to, given no other choice, but she does it recreationally, which I would say is something that makes her a likeable character to me. Now, Colorado Springs, or as autocorrect would love to put it, Collarbone Springs, has raised a few concerns, well not concerns but questions for me itself. My biggest question that for some reason won't go away is such: Colorado Springs was a big community, James said around 300 at his departure, so how did nobody see the body before Mei Xia? Now, if there was some sort of curfew in place or the area where the body was had been closed off to civilians, both of which seeming very probable in my mind, I could totally understand that.
Last but not least, the reading recommendations. I'm definitely going to look into a few of these books because they do seem to be very interesting and I've only gotten back into reading actual books recently. (In other news, I capped off a whole two more paragraphs in this one comment. Good God.)
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month In — 16-05: Alex ambled toward the driveway, moved up it. Each step stabbed his shattered kneecap as if with a glowing hot fire poker. There was no question: his jaw was broken. His exertion kept involuntarily tightening it, paining him.
The numbness had all but faded, and the speed of his forward slog and the lack of progress were about as excruciating as the pain. Ahead waited the entrance, closed off by nothing more than a screen door.
When he stepped foot on the stairs, he almost didn’t believe it. He brought his bad leg to the next step, put weight his weight on it as he pushed off with the other, and nearly fainted for the wave of dizziness that assailed him. His grip held fast to the handrail, let the nausea pass, and continued upward at a slower pace.
He grabbed the handle, stepped inside, and let the screen door bang shut behind him as he stared at interior. The drywall of the hallway was torn off the walls, and it blanketed the floor in chunks and piles of dust, save for a little path carved by the passage of feet.
A drug house? He hoped it hadn’t been used recently, but couldn’t be sure. It was, however, a certainty that he wouldn’t find anything of use here.
He walked through the drywall and dead electrical wires, ripped from the walls like the veins of some desecrated corpse. He rested against the doorframe of the living room, looking in. Someone had cut open the couch and cushions and pulled out their stuffing.
Alex moved further down the hallway, passing a closet door hanging by a single hinge and a kitchen with its countertops demolished until he came to a bedroom. The walls had been torn out here as well, all over the bed, but he was past the point of caring.
The bed appeared intact under the debris, so that was one consolation. He walked around the bed, checking the other side of the room and finding nothing, then coaxed off the sheet off the two corners, and discovered he didn’t have the energy to it from the remaining ones. Pushing it as far to the side as he could manage, the sheet and the debris filling it and covering formed a little barrier atop the bed, facing the door.
The mattress was dirty and stained, but Alex couldn’t find a damn to give, and he eased himself onto it and looked up at what little remained of the ceiling. The dust he’d churned up swirled in the air above him in the fading light.
However much strength he’d started off with, it had left him entirely. The flame of hatred he had been clinging was dimmer. He tried to imagine all the ways he would hurt Adrian, but his pain and exhaustion had taken away his desire for such things along with his focus.
When night came, and the chill got to him, he drew the sheets over his body and lay awake with his eyes locked shut, trying to recapture his hate, fan the flames, but it was use. Eventually, exhaustion won over pain and he nodded off.
The screen door slammed and snapped him awake.
By force of will, Alex stifled a cough. The dust. Ah, shit. He hadn’t considered what inhaling it might do. His throat itched. His jaw tightened again, and his other muscles tensed as well, striking a horrible note of pain and nausea throughout his body.
Don’t gag.
He listened to the shoes pounding down the hall and shut his eyes again.
Shit shit shit.
They entered the bedroom, two pairs of footsteps, pushing through the debris on the floor. Alex heard their winded breath. They had been running, and now the crap they’d thrown into the air was making them cough and squeeze.
Alex was practically holding his breath. His nose tickled.
“Get under,” one of them barked, and Alex felt the bed rock and wondered, worried, why they were hiding under the bed. The speaker had been male. Beyond the fact that he sounded young, there were no other conclusions Alex could draw. He heard the same man speak again, and this time the voice came beneath him. “Quiet.”
It was an order. The other person didn’t speak. By the sounds of their coughing and squeezing, Alex guessed they were both male and now covered in drywall.
They hadn’t seen him. They’d been in too much of a rush to realize it.
But why?
That was when he heard it: a quick, rhythmic tapping on the tarmac. No sooner had Alex thought Hooves than the horse turned up the driveway and the hoofbeats changed pitch as they pounded gravel. It wasn’t the only set. More horses, presumably carrying riders, entered earshot and moved from to the road to the drive, heading toward the house.
The tickling on his nose grew too much, too unpleasant.
Shit.
Shit shit.
“Quiet,” the man under his bed whispered again to his companion.
F-fuc—
Alex squeezed. The man beneath him cursed with a start, and something hit the underside of the bed, likely his head, but Alex was too busy writhing in pain to take notice.
Boots fell on the boards of the porch. The screen door was wrenched open, and the steps of multiple people traveled up to the hall. They diverged throughout the house, raising such as racket that Alex almost didn’t pinpoint the steps that headed toward the bedroom and stopped outside the door.
Alex began to cough and squeeze simultaneously, uncontrollably. There was nothing he could do as someone ventured inside. He saw the barrel of the person’s pistol as dark tendrils coiled around him and his senses. Unconsciousness came, releasing him from the agony of his injuries.
To be continued...
A curfew was briefly mentioned in the part. Mei was rushing to finish her jog before it began. Since the people who tend the garden the guard was hidden in probably didn't work right up to curfew, he could have been killed several hours before Mei came across him, or maybe she discovered him within minutes of his death. It was mentioned that the guard was still flushed, so it's probably better to assume the latter.
This guy is not having a good day....
Interesting part. I'm glad to see this story active again.
Ah, Alex again, in a wonderful part
Strangely enough, I still think we made the right decision with him. He is in a bad shape and if he would have continued down the road, things could have gotten even more dire. Now he is only unconcious, but continuing that path could have legitimately killed him. Though he is in a bad situation now as well, I have the hope that he can explain to his captors, who will probably be the people who came on horseback, that he is not involved in any of this. Not everyone can shoot on sight, right? Or maybe the horse people are bad people, I wouldn't put that past them. I quite wonder who they are and what this situation is about in general. Apparently, they have been hunting for the two guys that have hidden beneath Alex' bed. If so, who are these guys and what have they done? Is there a legit reason for the horse people hunting for them? I got the feeling that at least the one that was quiet has not been here by his own free will, so maybe the guy who spoke is actually the bad one here? Ah, I guess the next Alex part will bring the answers. Until then, I look forward for the other storylines to resume as well 
I'm interested in how this is going to end up. And as to who the horseback group is, of course. A very good part indeed.
Now, I could definitely dissect the situation myself, and I actually have. However, my more likely theory is basically being carried by comments, rather than story evidence, which makes it just a tad bit off, to say the least
This was an interesting part. Alex always seems to be in some kind of danger.
Anyways, the new telltale update won't all ow me to see the pm's we have sent eachother. Are you able to see our pm conversations? If so, can you send me a pm, so I can see the conversation? If not, we'll probably just need to start a new one.
I am back! Sorry for being inactive for so long and not commenting on the story. I was having important exams for my future work and prepared for them for the last months. I had to remove myself from the internet completly to learn because I would have been too distracted if not XD I just wanted to let you know I am back now and try to be active again.
I love where the story has been heading to in the last months. I like Alexs storyline the most out of the new ones but like them all and I am very interested in where the story will go to. It also gave me an idea for a character to submit, if you still accept them. Because the character list is so full I will write you a PM to ask if you can use my idea soon!
Welcome back, hope your exams went well
I'm okay! (Posting here as well to make sure everyone sees this update)
I never intended to worry anyone, but my silence has gone on far too long, and I'm sorry. Log-in issues have been troubling me recently, but it appears to be working for the moment. I'm not sure what I did. I think I clicked on "my account" while I had the log-in screen up, and it just started acting business as usual. I'll try to answer what PMs I can, but my feed won't load past yesterday.
I have parts in the works for Monument and Silicon County (the latter part far closer to completion) but I've let my attention slip to some projects. I've written a little flash fiction (stories under 1000 words), some of which I'll share real soon. I had a short story in mind for the last few months which hasn't materialized as I hoped, so I'm letting the premise sit and hopefully when I get back to it I'll be able to make something out of it.
....And I've been planning a novel. Starting in September I'm taking several classes, one of which is a Writer's Workshop of sorts. I don't know what to expect. We'll apparently be taking the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) system and stretching it over half a year or so. So yeah, that's the real attention-eater at the moment. While I am nervous and feel unprepared, I'm also excited. I've been thinking of up characters, the world, and a plot. As it stands, it will probably be a freaking weird post-apocalyptic/horror/dark fantasy combo.
And I've been reading. I've completed my challenge of reading 52 books and will tickle in some recommendations as I begin posting again. I've encountered some great stuff and I can't wait to talk about it!
Again, I would like to say I'm sorry for worrying everyone. While my motivation to write Monument and Silicon County has always waxed and waned, I understand your investment as readers and friends and would never abandon these stories. You've put as much, if not more, time and effort into following them. Abandoning them outright would be a kind of betrayal, one which I don't wish to make.
Anyway, I want to make progress on both stories before September when my classes will begin, because I suspect they're going to prove a distraction, so I better get back into the groove! I'll see you again soon with a new part for Silicon County, and Monument will continue soon as well
Edit: And the kittens are doing great! I'll try to post pictures, as they've grown quite a bit
Update
Oh gosh, time flies. I'm sorry for this renewed absence. Monument and Silicon will continue, I'm just too sure when—I'm gonna try to get on top of them again, though. My writing class began this month and I got distracted trying to work out a few things about my project. Seeing the class schedule, and seeing it was beginning so soon, caused a moment a panic followed by immediately by several easing epiphanies. For one, I discovered my antagonist was right under my nose this whole time, and I've found the plot to go with the world and characters I've had in mind. Now I've been doing a lot of thinking, figuring other things out, about the story. The first class was several days ago. We did a few writing exercises, defined what a novel is, and broke down our favorite novels into the elements we enjoyed most to, maybe, get idea of what we should focus on. Thankfully, we're taking things slowly, so this first class was mostly conceptual. We'll be working on characters next. I'll keep you posted and will get my forum stories up and running again soon!
Ah, take your time
You know we're patient and surely, my excitement for the next part will never fade even if it takes a bit longer until completion. The story is just that good and as much as I hope it'll continue soon, I fully understand that those other things are currently keeping you busy. They sound exciting as well, at least it means you won't come out of practice with writing. Quite the contrary. Always wanted to take writing classes myself, I hope you're going to have a lot of fun with them! Anyways, don't worry, we're all still going to be here when the next part hits, but still, thanks for the update!
Alex Kotov — On the road, East Texas — 1 Year, 1 Month — 16-06: When Alex finally woke up, he had all the usual aches and pains, plus an urge to cough. He found himself in a tent, lying on and amidst blankets, naked but for the blankets that covered him. It appeared to be day, for pinpricks of light penetrated the tight weave in places—a spell of warmth after what had been weeks of overcast. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on outside the tent: bustling, cursing, laughing. From some close by, he heard a whinny, and he recalled the events in the trashed house, the clop of hooves he had heard.
With care, he stretched his limbs. He received twinges of pain which, he knew, were warning of much greater pain to come if kept testing himself. But it was sufficient to find that the sensation of constraints he had been feeling was actually a cast, or perhaps several layers bandages. Whatever the case, he settled back into the blankets and seemed to doze for a while, comfortable in the knowledge that his injuries had been cared for: that had to mean something, had to mean he was safe, at least for now.
Sometime later, he awake came again, this time to the sound of footsteps right outside the tent flap. He propped himself as he best he could. As this person approached, they became dark silhouette against the canvas, one which now crouched and reached for the zipper.
When the man poked his head in, Alex was watching, and they met eyes.
Alex was surprised to the man was roughly his age of twenty-two. The man’s hair was red and shaggy, and he had several days’ growth of red beard on his jaw and upper lip. He moved further in, so Alex got enough of a look at his neck and shoulders to determine the man was muscular and, Alex would hazard, tall. Of his attire, Alex could see black tank top and, as the man climbed in entirely, jeans and socks. The boots he’d taken off were visible through the tent flap until the man closed it and zipped it back up.
The man was appraising Alex as well. Adrian’s beating had left innumerable bruises, which had turned a sickly yellow. Alex figured he was the opposite of a sight for sore eyes: a sight which made eyes sores.
“You’re a piece of work,” the man said at last. He paused afterward, waiting for a reply or, perhaps, a rebuttal.
Alex parted and licked his dry, cracked lips, gauging his ability to speak with a broken jaw. Before he could test himself, however, the man spoke up again.
“I’m Ryan,” he said. “What’s your name?”
Already the smallest movements had stirred up a dull pain. “Mason,” Alex said, for a moment puzzling even himself with the lie, but he had said it, and now thinking about it, maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to keep his name to himself.
“Mason,” Ryan repeated, slowly, almost savoring the name. “Well, Mason, you know of course of the two guys hiding under your bed. I imagine you do, lying right on top of them as you were. They claimed not to know that you were there, and they denied beating the shit out of you, but like I told them, likely story. So let me hear it from you. Did they do this to you?”
Lying, he decided, had no use in this regard. “No,” he answered, in a breath that was hardly a whisper, more an approximation of a word than anything else, as pain flared.
Evidently, Ryan heard him loud and clear. He was squatting on his heels in the tent, and now he leaned in closer. “Who did it, then?”
“Not the guys under the bed. But who are they?” It didn’t occur until after it said it that maybe the past tense was more appropriate for the question.
Ryan simply smiled. “A question for a question. Fine. I’ll deal.” He made himself more comfortable, sitting on crossed legs. “They’re just a pair of assholes who tried their hands at thievery and did a poor job of it, and an even poorer job of trying it on my band. So, they stole from us, some food, nothing else, and ran with it. We, of course, ran them down. Into the house you were lying in. Now, answer me: if they didn’t do this to you, who did?”
He’d had the entirety of Ryan’s little story to wonder what he was going to say, yet still he wasn’t sure. What would Ryan and his group do if they knew there was a community over yonder? he wondered. Would Ryan seek an angle? A chance for profit? That, he realized, was the only reason he was in their company: so they could profit from whatever he might be able to tell them. So yes, assuming they were just about bandits, they might be the type to conduct a raid, maybe a takeover. But maybe, Alex figured, that wasn’t such a bad thing, given his situation.
If he tried to do things on his own, beaten as he was, the task of freeing Hannah and getting back at Adrian was, admittedly, all but impossible. Yet if he brought a band like this back, his and Hannah’s chances would skyrocket. Hell, he didn’t care what Ryan and his people did with the college so long as it meant he got Hannah. And Adrian, of course.
But how to answer, and where to begin? Stroke his curiosity, he thought. So he answered slowly, vaguely, fleetingly as the pain rekindled in his jaw, “Adrian.”
Ryan nodded, holding his question. “Your turn, then. Ask away.”
“What will happen to those guys, the thieves?”
“They’ll be punished. I haven’t decided how, though I probably won’t kill them, if that what you were wondering. Now, my turn. Who’s Adrian?”
“He leads a community. Shittily. He’s mine.”
“The man smiled again. “I’m breaking order, I’m sorry, but I have to ask... yours?”
“Mine to kill, or not. And Hannah, my girlfriend: I want her back, want to save her. Everything else is yours… the supplies, the weapons… the whole place, if you’re willing to take it.”
There was an unhidden gleam of interest in the face watching him. “Here’s what will do. We’ll get you dressed—or if it suits you, you can stay like you are now. Either way, I have to step out for a moment, then, when I get back, you can tell me all about Adrian and his... community, as you called it. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Wonderful,” Ryan replied, then he pulled the zipper and disappeared through the tent flap before closing it behind him again, and once again, Alex was left alone.
To be continued...
At this point, I probably sound like a broken record, but nonetheless, I'm sorry for the delay. I have more classes starting up soon, so it might be unrealistic to make promises. That said, I'm going to try to get back on top of things. You'll be seeing me soon with new parts for Monument and Silicon County. Also, I've been having more trouble getting into my account and replying to messages, but these issues appear to have cleared up now. Lastly, a book I've read and liked:
The Deep by Nick Cutter: A disease, basically a rapid and more dramatic version of Alzheimer's, known as the ‘Gets is sweeping across the world. You start forgetting the little things, then the bigger things, then your body forgets how to regulate itself and stop breathing. There’s no way to arrest the disease’s progression, and no hope of a cure, until a mysterious substance is discovered in the Pacific. Quickly acquiring the name of Ambrosia, this substance is actually an organism, which may hold the key to immortality. A station is constructed in the Mariana Trench, from where this substance appears to have originated, and several scientists begin their studies and searches for more of this miracle cure-all. But not long after, the station goes silent.
Like The Troop, I couldn’t put this novel down and I ended up blowing through it in the same two-day timeframe. And unlike The Troop, fortunately, the characters don’t do stupid crap, and when they do make questionable decisions, it’s not just for the hell of it, which really helps to put this ahead of The Troop. One of the few flaws are the flashbacks. It’s not that they’re uninteresting—they are, for the most part, very interesting, especially the earlier ones—just that they negatively affect the pacing. By the end, however, I completely understand their inclusion, as they tie heavily into the overarching story. But still, I dig it. I don’t know how else to describe The Deep but as devastating. It’s among some of the bleakest horror novels I’ve read, and among my favorites.