Stephen Drivick's Blog - Posts Tagged "walking-dead"
Sample Saturday #2
A sample from Sometimes We Ran, Chapter 20: The Accident
We rounded a slight curve in the road and came upon an intersection. I squinted my eyes in the darkness and saw several buildings arranged near the road. I almost jumped for joy as I spotted a possible safe place. I felt like I had been reunited with an old friend.
It was a gas station with an attached food store.
It was a few hundred yards away, and looked like excellent cover. I decided to make a run for it. I picked up Claire and carried her as I ran for the front door. With my bruised ribs and hurt knee, it felt like I ran a mile. The parking lot was full of wrecked cars and decaying bodies, but the building looked intact. The door was partially open. With my arms full of Claire, I kicked it open. I had to turn sideways in the doorway to get inside. The inside was wrecked, as usual. I took a quick look, but found nobody inside. I cleared a spot, and laid Claire on the floor. She had gone really pale, and had passed out. She was definitely going into shock.
I heard a noise at the door. I quickly turned around, and drew my shotgun at the same time. A young Red-Eye stood in the doorway. It seemed that I had forgotten to close the door.
He stood there watching me for a moment. He cocked his head from side to side perhaps sizing me up. The worst part was his eyes. They were twin glowing red orbs in his skull, that seemed to pierce right through me. He let out a low growl, and leaped at me. It wasn't very good. Outside the store, it would have been a graceful jump, and he would have killed me where I stood. Inside the store, though, it was a clumsy, staggering fall through debris and glass. I pulled the trigger and fired at the attacking zombie. The shotgun blast caught him in the shoulder. He stumbled, recovered, and then reached for me. I stepped back to avoid his reach, and jammed the butt of the shotgun into the creature's skull. He fell backwards on the floor, and I shot him again. The shot grazed the side of his head. The Red-Eye screeched, and started flopping around in the doorway of the gas station. I stood over him, and blew his brains out with another shell. The Red-Eye went silent.
Adrenaline coursing through me, I stood over the broken body of the zombie. I heard a sound outside, and glanced out the open door. Two more Red-Eyes stood near the dead gas pumps.
They were staring at me as I stood over their dead companion.
Suddenly, a feeling of rage washed over me. I had reached my breaking point, and the time for fear and running was over. I stowed my shotgun, and dragged the dead Red-Eye into the parking lot. I then stood up, drew my shotgun, and pointed it at the two zombies in the parking lot. They started at me in confusion.
I screwed up my courage. “Look at your buddy, you ugly bastards. I blew his brains out. If you want to eat me and my friend, you're going to have to go through me. You got it?”
They stood silently for a minute staring at me and my shotgun. After a little calculation, they began to make their move. I aimed my shotgun at their heads. “I'm not bluffing. One or both of you are about to die.”
The zombies got the message, and with a series of clicking noises and growls, they retreated. They paused for a minute when they got to the road, and glanced back. It almost looked like they were trying to remember me for future encounters. After a few seconds of heavy glancing, they took off into the woods.
I stood there for a second, my shotgun ready. It seems the Red-Eyes had achieved some sort of intelligence. They recognized me as a threat, and had retreated to fight another day. I had no doubt that they would keep watching, and waiting for a chance to strike. After all, you can't pass up a good meal, even if you're a zombie.
I stowed my shotgun, and ran inside. I slammed the door and locked us in. I piled a few things in the doorway for a little added security. I took a quick look through the door glass at the parking lot. Nothing was moving. The Red-Eyes were going to leave us alone for now.
I turned my attention to Claire. She was starting to come to, and attempting to get to a sitting position. I ran to her side. “Don't move. You're hurt.” She lay down on the hard floor without protest.
I took off my backpack, and took out our first aid kit. I tended to her cuts and abrasions as best I could with my limited supplies. She winced in pain whenever I dabbed a cut with antibiotic ointment. Some of the cuts were pretty deep. I began to wonder if Claire was going to be all right.
During my attempts at first aid, Claire reached up and touched my face. “John, you're bleeding. Were we in some kind of accident?”
I looked into her crystal blue eyes. “Yes, Claire. I crashed the scooter, remember?” I may have to add a concussion to her list of aliments.
“Oh, yeah. I remember,” she said weakly. “Guess that's why I'm lying on the floor, huh?”
I tried to laugh, but was unsuccessful. “I'm sorry. I wish it was me who was on the floor.”
Claire touched my hand. “It's okay. I'll be okay.” A weak smile crossed her lips.
And that's when I noticed the bite on her wrist.
It was about two inches long, on the top of her wrist near her hand. It looked like tiny red lines spaced close together in a circular pattern. I moved her sleeve slightly down her arm, and turned her wrist over. The tiny red lines continued underneath her arm as well. It was a dog bite. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the store if it had penetrated her skin. Claire wasn't showing any zombie symptoms yet. Maybe the dog bites took longer. I felt very weak and dizzy.
I started to tremble as I held Claire's wrist. I couldn't believe what I saw. After all we'd been through, after all the precautions, one of us gets bit by a damn dog. It should be me. Why didn't it bite me? Claire didn't deserve this.
She must have seen the concern on my face. “What's the matter, Tiger?” she asked in a weak voice. Without uttering a word, I showed Claire her wrist. She glanced at it for a second, and a terrible look crossed her face. “Great,” she said. “Just great.”
I looked away so she couldn't see the tears welling up in my eyes. “Claire, I'm sorry,” I said, choking up.
She lay there for a few minutes, then she grabbed my arm. “John, look at me.” I reluctantly looked her in the eyes. “It's okay. I think we both knew our luck would run out eventually. I think we had a good run. We tried. We really tried. Now you have to be strong.”
Unfortunately, I knew what I had to do. “I'm sorry. I didn't want this for you. It should be me.” I was holding both her hands now, and tears were running down my cheeks.
Claire tried to smile, but she was crying as well. “Shh ...Don't talk like that. You know what you have to do. Don't let me be one of those things for more than a few seconds, okay?”
I nodded. “I ...I don't think I can do it.” The thought of shooting her made me sick to my stomach.
Claire painfully picked her head up to look me in the eyes. “You promised, remember? Back when we first met. You promised to take care of me. Please don't let me become one of those things.”
I nodded weakly. “I remember. You don't have to worry. I'll take care of you.”
Claire laid her head back down on the floor. “Thank you, Tiger.” She paused for a minute, then said, “You've been a really good friend. You and I have become sort of a family, you know.” She started squeezing my hands till they were almost breaking. “I'm really glad we found each other. It was fun.” Claire paused to touch my face. “I love you, John,” she said through her tears. She lay back and closed her eyes. “Okay. I'm ready. Just make it quick”
I looked down at her for a moment. There was nothing I could do or say to ease her pain. Once you're bitten, it's all over. I could only do what she wanted, and not let her join the other undead. I brushed aside some pink-highlighted auburn hair, and kissed her on the forehead.
I drew my gun, and sat down beside her in the dark store. I sat beside her and waited.
I waited for Claire to turn.
Thanks for stopping by!
***********************
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
CreateSpace (Paperback)https://www.createspace.com/4307201
DriveThruFiction: http://www.drivethrufiction.com/produ...
NOOK: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/somet...
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
Leanpub: https://leanpub.com/SometimesWeRan
Libiro: http://www.libiro.com/index.php?route...
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id65...
Scribd: http://www.scribd.com/book/230611071/...
Inktera: http://www.inktera.com/store/title/c0...
We rounded a slight curve in the road and came upon an intersection. I squinted my eyes in the darkness and saw several buildings arranged near the road. I almost jumped for joy as I spotted a possible safe place. I felt like I had been reunited with an old friend.
It was a gas station with an attached food store.
It was a few hundred yards away, and looked like excellent cover. I decided to make a run for it. I picked up Claire and carried her as I ran for the front door. With my bruised ribs and hurt knee, it felt like I ran a mile. The parking lot was full of wrecked cars and decaying bodies, but the building looked intact. The door was partially open. With my arms full of Claire, I kicked it open. I had to turn sideways in the doorway to get inside. The inside was wrecked, as usual. I took a quick look, but found nobody inside. I cleared a spot, and laid Claire on the floor. She had gone really pale, and had passed out. She was definitely going into shock.
I heard a noise at the door. I quickly turned around, and drew my shotgun at the same time. A young Red-Eye stood in the doorway. It seemed that I had forgotten to close the door.
He stood there watching me for a moment. He cocked his head from side to side perhaps sizing me up. The worst part was his eyes. They were twin glowing red orbs in his skull, that seemed to pierce right through me. He let out a low growl, and leaped at me. It wasn't very good. Outside the store, it would have been a graceful jump, and he would have killed me where I stood. Inside the store, though, it was a clumsy, staggering fall through debris and glass. I pulled the trigger and fired at the attacking zombie. The shotgun blast caught him in the shoulder. He stumbled, recovered, and then reached for me. I stepped back to avoid his reach, and jammed the butt of the shotgun into the creature's skull. He fell backwards on the floor, and I shot him again. The shot grazed the side of his head. The Red-Eye screeched, and started flopping around in the doorway of the gas station. I stood over him, and blew his brains out with another shell. The Red-Eye went silent.
Adrenaline coursing through me, I stood over the broken body of the zombie. I heard a sound outside, and glanced out the open door. Two more Red-Eyes stood near the dead gas pumps.
They were staring at me as I stood over their dead companion.
Suddenly, a feeling of rage washed over me. I had reached my breaking point, and the time for fear and running was over. I stowed my shotgun, and dragged the dead Red-Eye into the parking lot. I then stood up, drew my shotgun, and pointed it at the two zombies in the parking lot. They started at me in confusion.
I screwed up my courage. “Look at your buddy, you ugly bastards. I blew his brains out. If you want to eat me and my friend, you're going to have to go through me. You got it?”
They stood silently for a minute staring at me and my shotgun. After a little calculation, they began to make their move. I aimed my shotgun at their heads. “I'm not bluffing. One or both of you are about to die.”
The zombies got the message, and with a series of clicking noises and growls, they retreated. They paused for a minute when they got to the road, and glanced back. It almost looked like they were trying to remember me for future encounters. After a few seconds of heavy glancing, they took off into the woods.
I stood there for a second, my shotgun ready. It seems the Red-Eyes had achieved some sort of intelligence. They recognized me as a threat, and had retreated to fight another day. I had no doubt that they would keep watching, and waiting for a chance to strike. After all, you can't pass up a good meal, even if you're a zombie.
I stowed my shotgun, and ran inside. I slammed the door and locked us in. I piled a few things in the doorway for a little added security. I took a quick look through the door glass at the parking lot. Nothing was moving. The Red-Eyes were going to leave us alone for now.
I turned my attention to Claire. She was starting to come to, and attempting to get to a sitting position. I ran to her side. “Don't move. You're hurt.” She lay down on the hard floor without protest.
I took off my backpack, and took out our first aid kit. I tended to her cuts and abrasions as best I could with my limited supplies. She winced in pain whenever I dabbed a cut with antibiotic ointment. Some of the cuts were pretty deep. I began to wonder if Claire was going to be all right.
During my attempts at first aid, Claire reached up and touched my face. “John, you're bleeding. Were we in some kind of accident?”
I looked into her crystal blue eyes. “Yes, Claire. I crashed the scooter, remember?” I may have to add a concussion to her list of aliments.
“Oh, yeah. I remember,” she said weakly. “Guess that's why I'm lying on the floor, huh?”
I tried to laugh, but was unsuccessful. “I'm sorry. I wish it was me who was on the floor.”
Claire touched my hand. “It's okay. I'll be okay.” A weak smile crossed her lips.
And that's when I noticed the bite on her wrist.
It was about two inches long, on the top of her wrist near her hand. It looked like tiny red lines spaced close together in a circular pattern. I moved her sleeve slightly down her arm, and turned her wrist over. The tiny red lines continued underneath her arm as well. It was a dog bite. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the store if it had penetrated her skin. Claire wasn't showing any zombie symptoms yet. Maybe the dog bites took longer. I felt very weak and dizzy.
I started to tremble as I held Claire's wrist. I couldn't believe what I saw. After all we'd been through, after all the precautions, one of us gets bit by a damn dog. It should be me. Why didn't it bite me? Claire didn't deserve this.
She must have seen the concern on my face. “What's the matter, Tiger?” she asked in a weak voice. Without uttering a word, I showed Claire her wrist. She glanced at it for a second, and a terrible look crossed her face. “Great,” she said. “Just great.”
I looked away so she couldn't see the tears welling up in my eyes. “Claire, I'm sorry,” I said, choking up.
She lay there for a few minutes, then she grabbed my arm. “John, look at me.” I reluctantly looked her in the eyes. “It's okay. I think we both knew our luck would run out eventually. I think we had a good run. We tried. We really tried. Now you have to be strong.”
Unfortunately, I knew what I had to do. “I'm sorry. I didn't want this for you. It should be me.” I was holding both her hands now, and tears were running down my cheeks.
Claire tried to smile, but she was crying as well. “Shh ...Don't talk like that. You know what you have to do. Don't let me be one of those things for more than a few seconds, okay?”
I nodded. “I ...I don't think I can do it.” The thought of shooting her made me sick to my stomach.
Claire painfully picked her head up to look me in the eyes. “You promised, remember? Back when we first met. You promised to take care of me. Please don't let me become one of those things.”
I nodded weakly. “I remember. You don't have to worry. I'll take care of you.”
Claire laid her head back down on the floor. “Thank you, Tiger.” She paused for a minute, then said, “You've been a really good friend. You and I have become sort of a family, you know.” She started squeezing my hands till they were almost breaking. “I'm really glad we found each other. It was fun.” Claire paused to touch my face. “I love you, John,” she said through her tears. She lay back and closed her eyes. “Okay. I'm ready. Just make it quick”
I looked down at her for a moment. There was nothing I could do or say to ease her pain. Once you're bitten, it's all over. I could only do what she wanted, and not let her join the other undead. I brushed aside some pink-highlighted auburn hair, and kissed her on the forehead.
I drew my gun, and sat down beside her in the dark store. I sat beside her and waited.
I waited for Claire to turn.
Thanks for stopping by!
***********************
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
CreateSpace (Paperback)https://www.createspace.com/4307201
DriveThruFiction: http://www.drivethrufiction.com/produ...
NOOK: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/somet...
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
Leanpub: https://leanpub.com/SometimesWeRan
Libiro: http://www.libiro.com/index.php?route...
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id65...
Scribd: http://www.scribd.com/book/230611071/...
Inktera: http://www.inktera.com/store/title/c0...
Ideas
This is my ninth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter I-Ideas.
Some people have asked me where I got the idea for Sometimes We Ran. The short answer is that I had it all along. :)
You've probably heard this all before, but ideas often stick in your head like a catchy song. A few years ago, an rough story about a man leaving a sheltered community to check out the world popped up in my head. He would be the survivor of a great cataclysm – a nuclear war or something devastating like that. He left the community and its safety because he was curious. He wanted to see what was going on in the destroyed United States. Of course no one really understood his quest. It was personal.
Along the way, he would fight cannibals, bandits, and other assorted end of the world bad guys. He would save families and whole communities as he traveled across the land. It would be a great adventure.
At some point in his journey, he was going to meet someone. A young girl, starving and ill-prepared for life on the road. They would strike up a friendship, and continue on the adventure together.
In my head, it sounded like a great story. The only problem was I didn't know what to do about it. Writing never occurred to me. I did scribble a few paragraphs here and there, but couldn't put anything together.
But the story stayed in my head. Nuclear war was eliminated when I read about super volcanoes and how they can cause mass extinctions. The story almost came out, but didn't quite make it to the page. I almost did a “super flu” kind of thing, but couldn't pull it off. The story went back into hibernation.
Then, during a “Walking Dead” marathon, it came to the surface. Zombies were the trick. I grabbed a sheet of paper, and scribbled a few notes. John, Claire, and the world they lived in came into focus. I started writing Sometimes We Ran that night. It was only going to be a short story, but it kept going.
So, don't let your ideas sleep. It took me a few years to get mine out of my head. I wish I had done it sooner. If you have an idea, no matter how crazy it is, write it down. Want to write about demons and vampire lawyers conducting an apocalyptic war at night? Do it.
You might get a book out of it.
Some people have asked me where I got the idea for Sometimes We Ran. The short answer is that I had it all along. :)
You've probably heard this all before, but ideas often stick in your head like a catchy song. A few years ago, an rough story about a man leaving a sheltered community to check out the world popped up in my head. He would be the survivor of a great cataclysm – a nuclear war or something devastating like that. He left the community and its safety because he was curious. He wanted to see what was going on in the destroyed United States. Of course no one really understood his quest. It was personal.
Along the way, he would fight cannibals, bandits, and other assorted end of the world bad guys. He would save families and whole communities as he traveled across the land. It would be a great adventure.
At some point in his journey, he was going to meet someone. A young girl, starving and ill-prepared for life on the road. They would strike up a friendship, and continue on the adventure together.
In my head, it sounded like a great story. The only problem was I didn't know what to do about it. Writing never occurred to me. I did scribble a few paragraphs here and there, but couldn't put anything together.
But the story stayed in my head. Nuclear war was eliminated when I read about super volcanoes and how they can cause mass extinctions. The story almost came out, but didn't quite make it to the page. I almost did a “super flu” kind of thing, but couldn't pull it off. The story went back into hibernation.
Then, during a “Walking Dead” marathon, it came to the surface. Zombies were the trick. I grabbed a sheet of paper, and scribbled a few notes. John, Claire, and the world they lived in came into focus. I started writing Sometimes We Ran that night. It was only going to be a short story, but it kept going.
So, don't let your ideas sleep. It took me a few years to get mine out of my head. I wish I had done it sooner. If you have an idea, no matter how crazy it is, write it down. Want to write about demons and vampire lawyers conducting an apocalyptic war at night? Do it.
You might get a book out of it.
Zombies
This is my eighteenth and last entry for the April A to Z Blogging Challenge. Today we look at Z-Zombies.
And now we come to Z. I'm going to talk about Zombies.
The story for Sometimes We Ran was bouncing around in my head for a couple of years. At the core, it was a story about a man who decides to leave his survival compound to seek his fortune in a post-apocalyptic world. At first, I had decided to use an old favorite, nuclear war, to end the world. Further research told me I couldn't pull it off. Total nuclear war seemed a little too destructive.
It was during a Walking Dead marathon that I hit on zombies. Zombies would let me end the world as we knew it, and allow the infrastructure to stay intact. My hero could walk for years fighting zombies.:)
I decided on two types identified by the color of their eyes. Yellow-Eye varieties would appear first in my zombie apocalypse. They were the classic zombie: slow-witted walker types that could be trouble in large groups. When fresh, they would be fast. Also, cruel and unusual injuries could be assigned to Yellows, like missing arms, legs, etc.
The Red-Eyes would be different. I made them a little smarter, faster, and more crafty. They worked in small groups sometimes with a leader. I made them ambush predators, hiding in the woods waiting for a meal. Another cool thing was the noises they could make: growling, hissing, or the occasional screech of pain. Red-Eyes are the new top of the food chain in my world.
Both Reds and Yellows follow the zombie rules. Shooting them in the head puts them down. Grievous injury to their body only slows them down. If you are bitten by one, you become part of their crew. They also have a problem with doorknobs and fences. In most of the zombie-themed media I have consumed, the undead can't climb a fence, or turn a doorknob to get at the heroes of the story.:)
That's the zombies of Sometimes We Ran. I decided from the outset that I wasn't going to try an rewrite the genre, but I hope I added to it a little bit.
And as always, zombie fans. Watch out for the Red-Eyes.:)
And now we come to Z. I'm going to talk about Zombies.
The story for Sometimes We Ran was bouncing around in my head for a couple of years. At the core, it was a story about a man who decides to leave his survival compound to seek his fortune in a post-apocalyptic world. At first, I had decided to use an old favorite, nuclear war, to end the world. Further research told me I couldn't pull it off. Total nuclear war seemed a little too destructive.
It was during a Walking Dead marathon that I hit on zombies. Zombies would let me end the world as we knew it, and allow the infrastructure to stay intact. My hero could walk for years fighting zombies.:)
I decided on two types identified by the color of their eyes. Yellow-Eye varieties would appear first in my zombie apocalypse. They were the classic zombie: slow-witted walker types that could be trouble in large groups. When fresh, they would be fast. Also, cruel and unusual injuries could be assigned to Yellows, like missing arms, legs, etc.
The Red-Eyes would be different. I made them a little smarter, faster, and more crafty. They worked in small groups sometimes with a leader. I made them ambush predators, hiding in the woods waiting for a meal. Another cool thing was the noises they could make: growling, hissing, or the occasional screech of pain. Red-Eyes are the new top of the food chain in my world.
Both Reds and Yellows follow the zombie rules. Shooting them in the head puts them down. Grievous injury to their body only slows them down. If you are bitten by one, you become part of their crew. They also have a problem with doorknobs and fences. In most of the zombie-themed media I have consumed, the undead can't climb a fence, or turn a doorknob to get at the heroes of the story.:)
That's the zombies of Sometimes We Ran. I decided from the outset that I wasn't going to try an rewrite the genre, but I hope I added to it a little bit.
And as always, zombie fans. Watch out for the Red-Eyes.:)
