Writing Mania discussion
Critique My Story!!!
>
Would you want to read more?
date
newest »
newest »
CONTINUED - ##########
That was three days ago. Before the world went to hell. Before they were left alone. But not exactly alone. Their mom never came home home that Friday night. They called around as it got late buy no one knew where she might be. Funny thing was, they couldn’t get a hold of many people. Phones just kept ringing and most people didn't answer, just like their mom. The later it got the more worried they became. So they camped out on the couch with Dexter waiting. Eventually sleep came to their exhausted minds and bodies.
The next morning mom still wasn't home. They tried the phones of their uncle, their grandad, their neighbors and no one answered. Joe was about to call the local police when Rick called from the living room. “Joe! Get in here!”
Joe ran to the living room and saw that Rick was watching a news program. An anchor woman in rumpled clothes and messy hair was talking while scenes of what looked like riots were being show behind her.
“Reports are still sketchy at this time. But from Japan to Brazil, from England to California we are receiving reports that the virus that had been ravaging China for the last week has spread around the globe at a pace that no one had predicted. The last report out of the centers for Disease Control in Atlanta two hours ago revealed that the virus, called N1, had spread mostly through air travel. With thousands of flights taking off and landing around the globe at any one time, airliners became a deadly delivery device for the virus. So far the information about the virus that we've been able to cull show's a 95% percent mortality rate. But it also shows that those who don't die from the virus undergo a radical change physiologically. They show no vital signs but rise from where they have fallen to walk again.. The word zombie has been used to describe these poor souls. Though none of these “un-dead” have shown any attraction to living flesh that goes along with the zombie legend and stories.. Officials in the government who we have been able to contact scoff at the idea of “zombies” but can offer little information to what is happening.” And at that point the screen went dark. The lights on on the living room went out. The ceiling fan in the room slowed to a stop and the ever present hum of the central air conditioner ceased.
Both boys sat dumbfounded. Joe whispered, “What the fuck?”
Rick said, “You know your not allowed to use that word.”
“Really Rick? I can't say fuck? Did you understand what we just fucking watched? What that fucking means? Fuckety Fuck Fuck! Is that what we should be worrying about right now?” Joe yelled. “because I think we have bigger fucking problems than my fucking grammar.”
Rick looked shocked and his eyes started to well with tears. Joe immediately felt awful. “I'm sorry Rick. I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just that I'm a little freaked out right now. I promise I wont do that again.” Joe pleaded.
Rick sniffed, wiped his eyes and answered, “You fucking better not.”
After they let Dexter out side they had a breakfast of Pop Tarts and Orange Crush. They didn't think their mom would mind since it seemed like the world was ending anyway. After a qucik bite they peeked through the curtains at the front window. Outside was deserted. Normally at this hour on a Saturday morning the street would be a hive of activity. Kids playing, adults mowing lawns, washing cars and running errands. But today, nothing. They could see no one. Suddenly they heard Dexter bark from the back yard. Worried they raced through the house to the back door and out onto the backyard deck. There was no sign of their dog. The back gate was open and there was a man standing there. Standing perfectly still, staring at them. Not moving a muscle. They bumped into each other as they backed into the doorway and slammed and locked the door. They looked out the kitchen window and the strange man was still standing there. Rooted in place staring. His skin was deathly pale and his eyes where ringed in dark red circles. His mouth slightly open. But otherwise unmoving like some creepy statue.
The boys hid on each side of the door. “Where's Dexter?” Rick asked, doing his best not to cry. “do you think that guy did something to him?”
Joe knew he had to be careful in how he answered. “I think Dexter opened the gate like he's done before and is running around somewhere in the park. And this guy just wandered in the open gate.”
“So what do we do now?” Rick pleaded.
“I'm not sure. They guy doesn’t seem like he wants to come any closer. I wish he'd stop staring though. Did you notice he hasn't blinked in the last 10 minutes since we saw him? Creepy.” Joe answered.
Both boys watched the man as the man watched them like some spooky sentry.
Suddenly there was the sound of broken glass at the front of the house. The boys darted through the living room and into the dining room where they could hide behind table and see the front door. There was glass on the floor inside the doorway and the curtain was now flapping in the wind. There was the shadow of a figure on the other side standing stock still. With the curtain blowing back and forth they couldn't get a good look at who it might be.
“I'm going to go back through the kitchen and look out the window and see if I can see who it is.” Rick whispered.
“Don't leave me here.” Rick pleaded.
“Okay. Follow me, stay low and be quiet.” Joe instructed.
On there way back though the living room Joe motioned for Rick to stop moving. Rick crouched low behind the couch. Joe low-crawled towards the back door. He wanted to get another look at the man in the back yard. He inched up next to the door and peeked through the window.
“Shit!” he exclaimed and then covered his mouth with both hands.
The man was now right beyond the deck only twenty feet from the house. Again standing still as a post and staring at the house with those red rimmed eyes.
Joe rushed back to where Rick waited behind the couch.
“Whats wrong? Rick asked.
“He's closer.” Joe said.
“How close?”
“Too F'ing close. But he's not moving right now. Let's see who's at he front door.”
As they broke for the kitchen they both caught a glimpse of the front entrance way. The front door was open. And standing in the doorway was a petite woman. She stood unmoving, mouth agape staring at them with dark red circles under her eyes. Mom was finally home.
################
It was too fookin quiet. That's how their grandad would have said it. Too fookin quiet. Rick and Joe missed their grandad. They missed a lot of people right now. They missed pretty much everyone they've ever known. They hadn't seen anyone in three days now. At least no one who was alive. When it got this quiet they got scared. Not the normal blood curdling terrified that was their baseline for the last few days, but worse. It was worse when it was this dark and this quiet. The old house didn't creak like it normally did. The noise from the cars on the highway nearby that they had learned to live with and not really hear was now deafening in it's silence. No birds, no dogs barking, no wind, no leaves rustling. Just dead fookin quiet. Even the horrible, indescribable sounds they had heard outside of their house the last few days were better than this. Now it was just the two boys and the monstrous ideas their young teen imaginations kept running through their minds, worse than the creepiest nightmares they'd ever had. So they sat in the dark in their old house, listening. Listening for anything, hoping to hear something but at the same time terrified of what they might hear. Especially any noise from upstairs in the locked bedroom. They just couldn't take that anymore.
Joe thought to himself, that if a book fell from the shelf right now onto the floor he'd probably die. Or worse he might crap his pants in front of his little brother. But he knew he couldn't do either. Even though he was only a year older that Rick, in his mind it was up to him to protect Rick. He was the older brother. The man of the house. He'd done his best over the last few days to keep Rick's spirits up. As much as he could with what had been going on around them. It was his job to keep Rick safe. So far, so good. They were both still alive. But Rick, who was small for his age and a little frail, had started to retreat into himself. Joe would have to ask him a question two or three times to get an answer. This was kind of normal for Rick who would withdraw from most intense situations. But this was different. Shit, everything was different now, Joe thought. Fookin A.
Joe had been at school the first time he heard anything about what might be going on. He heard two teachers talking about some virus or disease that had originated in China and was spreading fast. But it was just in passing and Joe didn't really give it a second thought. It was probably just another Bird Flu scare or something like that. Joe had bigger problems that some bug devastating China a million miles away.
He had to deal with Barry Hicks. Barry Hicks, neanderthal bully a-hole who wouldn't leave Joe's brother Rick alone. Rick was small, quiet, and crazy smart. Which meant he carried a bully bulls-eye on him at all times. Most times Joe could talk to Barry arrange a sort of fragile truce that would last a short time. But Joe didn't think that was going to work this time. This time he had to show Barry that if you fucked with my little brother, you were going to have to fuck with me. Enough was enough. Problem number one was that Barry was four inches taller than Joe and outweighed him by forty pounds. Plus fighting was the thing that suited Barry best. Brute force and lots of experience scrapping. Problem number two, in all the time he'd spent trying to protect Rick over the years he'd never actually fought anyone. He'd always played peacemaker and used his wits to counter most troubles. But today the gauntlet had been thrown down. Joe had come upon Barry and Rick in the locker room after a gym class. Barry had Rick up against the wall of lockers and was pressing what was no doubt a horrible smelling jock strap against Rick's face. While a few fellow deep thinkers stood around a cheered. Without thinking, Joe had charged and body blocked Barry to the ground yelling, “Leave him alone or I will kick your fat ass!!”
Everyone froze to see what Barry would do next. Barry hurled himself up off the floor in Joe's direction just as Mr. Roche, the gym teacher walked in. “What in the heck is going on in here?” he yelled. “Barry get dressed and get out of here, Rick get to your next class, and someone get rid of that jockstrap I won't have it on my locker room floor!”
On his way by Barry whispered to Joe, “You're dead meat. After school we finish this pencil-dick.”
So it had come to this behind the closed gas station down the street from the school. Barry and Joe slowly circling each other, surrounded by fifty so onlookers. Who were cheering, yelling, cussing and generally trying to goad the action.
Joe was going over strategies in his head on how he wasn't going to end up in a pulp on the ground. All the action movies and kunk fu movies made it look easy, just stay away from your opponent, let him make the first mistake, and then pounce! All of this was going through Joe's head and a shred of an idea was forming, when Barry pounced. Joe's first thought of self defense was, “Shit! I'm toast.” As he was rammed to the ground in a cloud of dust. Barry was on top of him swinging away. Blows rained down on Joe's head and face. Eventually he was able to work himself into the the great kung-fu position of “rolled up fetal position, arms over head and face.” A classic defense. Now most of Barry's blows were landing on Joe's arms. Not that they didn't hurt, but nothing vital was getting pummeled. At least not too badly, every once in a while a fist would sneak though and find it's target and bloody Joe's nose or lip. This was bad Joe thought with surprising clarity from someone getting there head knocked in. But he was growing weaker and it seemed Barry was getting stronger. This couldn’t last much longer. And it didn't. One second Barry was flailing away at Joe's bad kung-fu defense and next minute nothing. No punches, no sound, no crush of Barry's body atop him. He was afraid to lower his guard, he thought maybe it was a trick. But the silence of the once boisterous crowd made him peek out from beneath his arms. He saw Barry laying on the ground next to him holding his head in his hand and murmuring and moaning to himself. He peeked out some more and in a halo of the late afternoon sun stood Rick, eyes wide as saucers, with his backpack held in both hands. The crowd was stunned no one said a word and then all at once they all starting cheering. This sudden cheer cleared Rick's head and he looked like he was going to to start to cry. Joe leaped up, grabbed his brother by the hand, shouldered his way through the crow,d and started running towards home with the cheers of the crowd slowly receding behind him. He was mad at his little brother, but also thankful and not a little proud.
That was three days ago. How Joe wished for a better time than now, a simpler time when he was getting his head bashed in by the school bully. That was sooo much better than this.
When they got home their mom Judy was still at work. Which wasn't unusual. She was a little late most nights. Being a single mom with two teen boys and a full time job wasn't easy, and Joe knew and appreciated the fact. But sometimes after a rough day he wished his mom could be there when he got home. Like it used to be. Not because he really needed a hug or comforted after a bad day, that was for little kids. It was just nice knowing she would be there. But he understood, probably better than any 15 year would, that what his mom was doing was pretty damn close to being a super hero in Joe's book. He admired here and loved her for it. He knew it wasn't easy, and he and Rick helped as much as two young teenage boys could. But really. How clean does a bedroom really need to be? No one goes in there but me Joe would think.
And tonight would be a good night for her to be home. Joe knew she would be mad about the fighting, but he also guessed she'd also be glad he did it to protect Rick. And what about Rick? He hadn't said a word the whole way home. Joe still couldn't believe it. Rick could barely carry his always full backpack, but somehow he'd manage to swing it against Barry's dome and knock him to the ground wounded. It was awesome. It was crazy. It was amazing. And it would probably get them in big trouble in school. But right now that wasn't important. It was Friday afternoon and school wouldn't be a problem for two more days.
So as they stood panting in the kitchen from the long run home, Joe asked Rick the question that had kept running through his mind, “Rick, what the hell?”
Rick was leaning against the counter head down, hands on his knees. He slowly raised his head and on his face was the most delightfully evil grin Joe had ever seen. It was awesome.
“You looked like you could use a little help, next thing I know Barry was on the ground and you were getting up and pulling me through the crowd. Guess I tried to knock his stupid head off.” Rick said and his smile got a little bigger.
“Damn Rick, you could've gotten hurt, I was doing OK. I didn't need your help.” Joe answered.
“Ummm...yeah...OK.” Rick whispered though his smile.
Rick finally stood up and went to let Dexter their black Lab outside. On his way out of the kitchen Joe called after him, “Hey Rick....thanks.”
Rick didn't even turn around, just waved and headed to the back yard with Dexter.