View Full Version : An Apocalypse Story Pt. 3 of 3 (VIOLENCE LANGUAGE)

August 15th, 2015, 02:51 PM
Part three. I'm having trouble figuring out what exactly happens next
Six months later

All was silent aside from the birds. They seemed to have come back en masse after the tragedy. The empty shells of apartment buildings surrounded me on either side. I was lying prone looking through a hole in the wall in front of me. Down the street I detected movement. I sighted down the barrel of a beat up AR 15, sighting in on my target 100 yards away. It was wild pig, probably wandered in from uprooting an old field on the northwest side of town. I licked my lips. I'd never eaten a wild pig but from the size of it I'd be eating good for a while.

It was rooting unconcernedly through a pile of trash. I inhaled and obtained a good sight picture. Exhaling slowly I pulled back the trigger as smoothly as possible. A loud report echoed through the building. I quickly regained a good sighting in case the first shot hadn't done the trick. I heard a squeal and saw the pig fall back. It stumbled back up but before it could regain it's footing another round slammed into it. The pig fell, for the last time.

I smiled thinking of all the things I could do with wild pig meat. Probably stew the first night and smoke the rest for later. I picked up the shell casings. They were 7.62mm. Fairly standard ammo. I would dig out the slugs too. I had learned how to load my own ammo and as a rule would use reloaded ammo. You never know when you'll find more but you always know that you need it. Slipping the casings into different pockets to reduce noise, I grabbed my backpack and checked the mag on my rifle. Thirteen rounds left.

I left the empty room and found myself in an equally empty hallway. Keeping low I headed towards the stairwell. These buildings were full of hiding places. In the last six months we had pretty much lost all direction as a nation. Almost immediately after the attack on the school people began to riot but there no longer was a centralised government to calm things down. People began to take on matters into their own hands. Our nation was essentially, to use a common phrase, a chicken with it's head cut off.

Rumors had begun to circulate that the bombings and attacks had been part of a plan by a terrorist organisation. Some people blamed them, some people joined them. Now, I don't think it's rumor anymore. I've seen some things, heard some things. I've seen a groups of well armoured men file into a building and leave it fifteen minutes later devoid of life. I've heard that they were headquartered in an old military base where they promise safety to any civilian they consider "a good candidate". I made a point to avoid them. These people were just looking for trouble.

I reached the first floor unharmed and made my way using stalled cars as cover towards the carcass of the pig. Two crows had already landed to investigate, they saw me and flew off cawing loudly. Attempted murder, I laughed silently at the pun.

I reached the body. The pig was most definitely dead, two slugs to the skull. Now came the messy part. I set my AR down beside me and unsheathed my hunting knife. I could carry it the pig to my camp but the daylight was running out and it would be quicker to take what I needed and go. Besides, it would be difficult to carry my rifle and the pig, but... I looked around and spotted an old Target shopping cart. As if I didnít already know I was in a bad neighborhood.

I dragged the cart over. It had a squeaky wheel but it seemed to move alright. I looked around for something to quiet the wheel. The cars were likely to have some oil left in them. I got out an old can that used to hold beans. I could drain the oil from some of these cars and use it on the wheel.

The first car I checked was a bust. No oil, no gas, not even wiper fluid. The second car yielded a sad trickle of the black liquid, it wasn't enough. The third car was the same and so on until I checked the fifth car. It was a silver Toyota Corolla. 2010 model. It was full and funnily enough there was little dust under the hood. Out of curiosity I checked the tank. It had gas. I checked the doors and found it unlocked.

Keys. There had be keys nearby unless the hapless owner had taken the keys with them to the grave. I checked all the usual spots and found them with no trouble in a change compartment. There was a fiver in there too. Funny how useless money becomes after a crisis like this. I slid into the driver's seat. It was somewhat comfortable. Starting the engine, I began to formulate a plan. I'd put the pig in and then drive to my camp then strike camp and travel to a new location. There I would then clean and gut the pig.

I carefully drove the sedan and parked it next to the pig. I pushed it into the back seat. I felt kind of bad for staining the cloth seats. Taking my AR I got back into the driver's seat. My backpack was next to me and I was looking for a map when a bullet removed the headrest of the driver's seat.

I rolled out of the car taking my rifle with me and sprinted to cover behind another car. I heard more shots as I jumped over the hood and behind the car. The shots ceased for a moment and I used the time to survey the surroundings. Judging from where it hit the shooter was directly in front of the car or forward and to the right of my position.

The shooter began to fire again at the Corolla maybe thinking to draw me out. The firing stopped and I could hear voices echo from the street.

"Do you think we got her?" a male voice asked.

"No, she's way too fast." Another voice said. It sounded familiar.

"Last time you told us she'd be too clever to fall for a trap like that. How do we know you arenít lying?" A third voice demanded.

"Trust me on this one, she's probably got us in her sights by now" the familiar voice said.

"Stop your yammering and move out!" a fourth voice ordered, "We are instructed to capture her alive! Understand that, dirtbags?"

Who on earth would want to hold me hostage? The men were probably spreading out. They knew my approximate position and would, if they were smart, form a perimeter. I could try and lose them in an apartment building but that might back me into a corner.

I found an empty beer bottle under the car. Looking over the hood I saw a black clad man with a Kalashnikov investigating the Corolla. His back was to me. He'd removed my backpack and had thrown the contents about on the ground. It had taken me months to collect all the stuff in there. As the man sifted through the items I threw the bottle to a spot on the ground past him. He looked up, fired his Kalashnikov in that general direction and I used the moment to dash into cover behind another car. The doorway to one of the apartment buildings was 30 meters away.

August 20th, 2015, 07:15 AM
:very_drunk:A dystopian story, eh. They're very popular these days.

What I liked about Part 1 and 2 was it was constantly moving forward. There was no BS. It was constant pow, pow, pow. It made it easy to digest.

As for Part 3, I actually like its slower pace. It gives the reader some time to breathe and think. And we actually get to see why she's nicknamed Sharpshooter rather than taking her word for it.

What I think people will have a hard time grasping is it's more fantasy scenario than realistic scenario. There are a lot of things you can get away with because of the way it's structured. There's no martial law, no military, etc. mentioned during the catastrophe.

Where you can take it from there? Flashbacks would be helpful. What she did or did not do during those 6 months. But 6 months is just too short of a timeframe. I probably would have made it a year or more.

For the writing aspect, Samantha has a strong hold on the story. Her voice does not waver. It always consistent. What she does lack is showing the specific details around her but makes up for it by being close and personal with her reader. However, there are so many times you can say a hallway is a hallway before the reader wants more from you.

Naturally, you fell into the pitfalls of a newly established writer. Particularly, it's your dialogue.

You're original writing:

"Last time you told us she'd be too clever to fall for a trap like that. How do we know you arenít lying?" A third voice demanded.

"Trust me on this one, she's probably got us in her sights by now" the familiar voice said.

"Stop your yammering and move out!" a fourth voice ordered, "We are instructed to capture her alive! Understand that, dirtbags?"


"Last time you told us she'd be too clever to fall for a trap like that. How do we know you arenít lying?" a third voice demanded. Even though it ends with a question mark (even if it were an exclamation mark), you would never capitalize the following letter unless it's a name.

"Trust me on this one, she's probably got us in her sights by now," the familiar voice said. You've managed to get this correctly.

"Stop your yammering and move out!" a fourth voice ordered. "We are instructed to capture her alive! Understand that, dirtbags?" There was a comma where a period should have been. All you really need to know by heart is a simple equation: DIALOGUE + HOW IT'S SPOKEN = COMEPLETE SENTENCE.

September 26th, 2015, 02:47 AM
I like the whole story, though I think it could've been expanded upon, like what was said from the previous comment. Flashbacks, what happend to matt? Why did he abandon her so quickly? Even though this is part 3 of 3 there are a lot of loose ends. I hope this get's expanded upon in the future.

September 26th, 2015, 02:58 AM
Thanks bros, I'll try and get a part four up before the weekend passes. I've got a bit of an idea...