It's Been a While!

So, it's been a bit more than a long time since I last posted on here, and I think it's about time I started up again. Starting soon, I'll be uploading segments from each of my two main novels every week or so. I'll start back up with the post-apocalyptic young-adult journey of Plague, and also, I'll be updating an older story of mine, a futuristic fantasy in the first person. It's tentatively called TM-7, after the machine the characters use to jump across- well, you'll see. I'll also be posting things I've been learning of late, about writing, thinking, etc. This isn't going to be solely books, anymore, it'll be my sort of public writer's journal. Any questions and comments are welcome, so feel free!

Plague, 04-10-12

Okay, so, I've been working quite a bit on Plague as well as Mercy, and I've added a lot to the beginning as well as adding on to the other chapters. So, here's a few of the first pages of the new version, mostly introducing all of the characters and getting the setting ready. I'd like to hear what you think!

Day 17

January 3^rd, 2018

Dear Diary,

Today was horrible. We all had to go to school, even with so many people out sick! There was a total of twenty-seven freshmen, thirty-two sophomores, sixteen of us juniors, and thirty-seven seniors. I had three substitute teachers, and my Chemistry class was canceled because Sister Joan was sick, and none of the other teachers who knew chemistry were well enough to teach. We simply had study hall for an hour and a half, and it was horrible.

Because of the subs, we had zero homework, and learned nothing! Now, don't get me wrong, I really don't like school. But sitting in a desk, doing practically nothing, for eight hours a day, five days a week, for nearly two weeks now, it's horrible! I would rather be getting lectures!

Most of my friends are sick, so it was just Ben, Sam and Sam, Katie, Lydia, Savanna, Michael, Morgan, Christie, Julian, Bee, and some others. Marie, my best friend, a senior, said that Kathy and Marissa are both out sick with the disease. All the students have started calling the disease Zombification, because it turns people, practically, into zombies. I think it's stupid, because the doctors think it's an airborne disease, but since it started, its stuck, and it isn't like we're going to change it.

The so-called scientists in Washington D.C. Have started calling it Plague Jupiter, because they think that the space shuttle came back with it last month. I think that 'The Space Plague' would have been more catchy, but I guess it's catching enough already, we don't need more people to get sick. Ha, ha.

Brad wrote to us, saying that they likely won't get the disease because of the location of his jail cell, but that he's scheduled to leave for the prison in Indiana next month. That kind of scares me. Mom and Dad are already sick, and so are my grandparents, all four of them. Grandma Mary is the worst. She can't move, and is getting worse every day.

I'm worried about her, but the scientists have come out with an anti-virus-thingy that they're spraying by plane tomorrow night at six, so we're all supposed to go for walks, play outside, open all the windows in January, and all that. I hope it works.

I have to go for now, my mom is screaming again. She needs her shots. Blegh.

• Sophie

***

Jacob sat in the street, sobbing shamelessly. People passed cautiously, avoiding the bulking figure. He didn't care what they thought, what they said, he didn't care about anything anymore. His girlfriend, Andy, was dead. He'd had to kill her. The funeral was next week Thursday. No one but the police, the judge, and Andy's direct family knew what he'd done. How she'd died. How she'd been murdered.

“Cob, I've been looking for you! You have to come home. We need your help at the shelter.” Kit tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at her with miserable eyes.

“I killed Andy.” he said simply, and dropped his face into his hands.

“Yeah, big deal. She went insane, tried to kill you, and you smacked her. Whoop-de-doo. Now pick up that overgrown ass and come back to the shelter. Other people are going to die if you don't come help.” she said, and Jacob drew in a shaky breath. The other orphans needed him. They were his responsibility until next March, when he turned eighteen.

“Headmaster?” he asked, and Kit bit her lip.

“Not good. I tied her down again. She was screaming. Not even words anymore, just screaming. Scariest freaking thing in the world, I'll tell you. The kids are freaking out, especially the sick ones. Jamie got a fever this morning. Sawyer started the screaming. Andrea's dead.” she said, and Jacob looked up sharply.

“What? How? No!” he said, despair starting to take hold again. Andrea was only seven. Is. Is only seven. Kit shook her head.

“She screamed for six hours straight, then drowned in her own blood. That's what we think, at least. Her throat was bleeding pretty bad.” she said, and shivered involuntarily. Jacob stood, tears streaming freely again.

“Let's go.”

***

“The Homeless Evil Vanquishers!” cried Buggy. Nim Nim shook her head. Tigger nodded slowly, and Tri just giggled.

“THEV!” she said, and Buggy bobbed his head enthusiastically. Nim Nim shook her head again.

“We aren't homeless, guys. We have a home, right here, in our little... nook. Yes, our little nook.” said Nim Nim, looking around the makeshift shelter, nestled tightly in between the large bar that plays the football games every day and the public library, which were only eight feet from one another. Tigger often bragged about how long it had taken him and Buggy to assemble the wooden home, which stretched from brick wall to brick wall, all eight feet, and from the back of the alley about six feet out, and was five feet tall. The roof was solid enough to keep out the rain, made of the same wood as the walls and covered in a plastic motorcycle cover, cut to fit. They'd used a large quilt to cover the entrance, and it was nearly always dark inside.

Now the group of kids were all sitting in a circle inside, laughing, frightened, at how the sick people outside were going crazy. The conversation had turned into crazy muggers, and what they would do if they got mugged, and then to how they would all team up and defeat the evil forces.

“I like it. We are THEV. But Nim Nim is also right, Bug. We have a home. Took us a month to make it, and within the first month living in it we've acquired a momma hobo,” he gestured to Nim Nim, “and a daughter hobo.” he looked pointedly at Tri, who was tearing a newspaper into very tiny pieces.

“Who's the dad?” asked Nim Nim, who had folded her arms defensively. Tigger sat up straight, grinning.

“Why, me, my darling!” he shouted, and everyone but Nim Nim laughed. She hated when he acted so immature. Which was, always. For God's sake, he was nearly seventeen! He should learn to act his age! Tri continued giggling long after everyone else had stopped, and Nim Nim looked at her, a look of pure irritation scrunching up her face.

“What is it, you fool?” she spurted, and Tri giggled harder.

“If... I'm the daughter...” she sputtered, squeezing words out between fits of laughter, “then you're my mommy! My mommy's younger than I am!” she exploded, and started rolling around on the floor, making Nim Nim smile just a bit.

“Only by a year or so, and I'm almost sixteen, anyway, Trinia. Don't think yourself that much higher than me.” she said, and now it was Buggy who burst out laughing.

“Nim Nim's higher than Tri!” he squealed, and soon the whole group was laughing uncontrollably. When they finally settled down, Nim Nim smiled.

“Always the ten-year-old who gets the punch line.” she said, then frowned. “But really, if I ever catch any of you with drugs, I will bash your face in so hard...”

“Yep, Naomi's definitely the mom.” Tigger laughed.

***

Recording 1

Sparks, Anna

January 3^rd, 2018

“This is Anna Sparks, recording one, during my Plague Jupiter sickness. (cough) I, I don't think I have much time anymore.(cough) Sophie, Cassie, Ria and the younger boys seem to be healthy, but Peter and,(cough) Peter and I are just getting worse. I don't think the airborne anti-virus will help. I'm too far gone, I know that. (cough) My memories are fading, I can't remember my parents names, or if I had any siblings while growing up. You wouldn't believe how frustrating it can be. Sometimes, I'll wake up to (cough), I'll wake up and see Sophie crying by my bed. She says that I just start screaming and she has to sedate me.

“She hates doing it, I know, but I don't know how to stop it, hell I don't even know I'm doing it! (cough). I, I can't... (cough) I just can't...(screaming)”

***

04/06/12 Chapter 3, Part 1

I'm still eager to get feedback on what you guys like and don't like, and I still don't have many title ideas (yeah, I finally noticed that typo from the earlier post title), so anything is helpful!

 

Victoria and Richard walk, arm in arm, down a tidy garden path. They laugh in the bright morning sunlight. Tenderly, he leans over and kisses her before lowering himself down to one knee before her. Mortal love.

Gone.

3.

Revealing Truths and Lies

              Will was walking behind Medusa-Cornelia, and his eyes were fixed on her dread-locks. It must have been his imagination, but he could have sworn they were moving. Not just swinging as she walked, but actually moving. By themselves. He was probably just tired.

              “Will, could you stop staring at me like that? It’s getting really annoying.” Cornelia was still excited about her… discovery, and she was all but skipping down the uneven stone tunnels. Will quickly averted his gaze, then looked up again at Cornelia. He quickened his pace to match hers and spoke quietly.

              “Hey, how’d you know I was staring?” he asked, studying her scaly bare shoulder with intense fascination.

              “Will, I could see you.” She smiled brilliantly at him and he noted that her teeth and tongue weren’t shiny or scaly.

              “But how? You were facing forward. You couldn’t have seen me.” He frowned as her smile grew wider.

              “Don’t you know anything about Medusa, William? Look closely.” She pointed at her hair. Will did, but saw only the scaly shining dread locks, waving gently back and forth, occasionally rising and falling.

              “I studied vampires, Cornelia, not mythology. Not that my studies are worth anything, though. Anyway, what about it? You have… eyes on your neck?” he dismissed the idea as soon as it left his mouth. Cornelia laughed, like bells tinkling, and stopped walking. Daniel and Mercy caught up and stopped as well, shooting inquiring looks at Will. He shrugged. Then Cornelia’s hair started floating up, each dread lock hanging in the air sort of like… a snake. That was when Will saw that each one had eyes and a mouth. They weren’t dreadlocks at all, they were actual snakes.

              “And she keeps pulling tricks from her bottomless bag.” Daniel said quietly. “Nelly, I think we’re going to get along just fine.” He said with a smile. Cornelia smiled back, let her hair, or snakes, rather, fall back into place and continued walking. Will was careful not to stare too directly at the snakes after that, and instead studied Cornelia’s scales. They still clinked and chimed when they touched one another, and it sounded sort of like bells or even rain on glass. He walked in a trance of sorts, mesmerized by the golden scales and the sound they made.

              The group continued a short while, and the tunnel grew gradually wider and more comfortable, and Will noticed the walls were speckled with tiny glowing stones. As they progressed, the stoned got bigger and bigger, until their path was illuminated by the strange rocks. Cornelia shifted back to her most frequent shape, and they continued on quietly until the group met a fork in the tunnel, and stopped to consider the options. Daniel spoke first.

              “Willy, Nelly, you take the right, and us vamps will take the left. Follow your tunnels until they branch again. If you think you find something that indicates that-“

              “Ooh, ‘indicates’. Big word.” That was Cindy.

              “If you find something that you think indicates we’re on the right trail, head back here and wait. If neither group finds anything, we meet back here in six hours and pick a path at random. We’ll just do it this time, as we don’t have time enough to explore every branch. Everyone good?” He stopped, waited a moment, then started down the left corridor. No one had any better plans, apparently, so the two groups split up.

              Cornelia’s silence during their journey was broken by the absence of the vampires, and as soon as she and Will were alone, she prattled on and on for near two hours about ‘shape prices’ and how it felt to ‘shift’ and what her thoughts were on the overpopulation of creatures on this planet.

              “I mean, with so many immortals, it’s no wonder vampires are dying out. Not enough human cities to feed them all. And we have to keep you humans alive, because, well, without you, we wouldn’t stay in hiding, and then war would break out across the globe, dragons killing shape shifters, shape shifters killing shape changers, a gross species they are, really, the shape changers and vampires killing off the mystics and fairies, and the Monarchs powerless to protect us from ourselves.” She took a breath here and there, though Will could scarcely keep up, let alone understand what she was talking about.

               “The shape shifters would obviously be the lone survivors, besides the Monarchs, of course, I mean. It’s only common sense. We can deceive the most trained spell crafters, the most fierce warriors, make them believe we’re one of their own, then stab them in the back. Of course we’d have to get their shape first, and not everyone is open to that kind of thing, if you know what I mean.”

              “I don’t, actually. I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cornelia. I don’t know how any of this stuff works. What is a monarch, what is a mystic, how do you get someone’s shape and what is the- whoa.” They’d entered a huge, spacious cavern, lighted by three huge blue stones on the ceiling. There were two doorways beside the one they’d entered, and centered between them was a large, door-shaped carving. They started towards it, and Cornelia yelped.

              “It’s written in the language of the Monarch! I’ll go get the others, you stay here and, um, guard it or something.”

              “Wait! Cornelia! You cant just…” but she was already gone. He’d briefly seen a hummingbird before she was gone completely, and sat resignedly on the smooth stone floor, studying the strange carvings. They were beautiful, swirling, sharp designs, with no obvious pattern or repetition. Some vaguely resembled creatures or elements, such as fire, men, birds, water, but most were indecipherable lines or figures. Will wasn’t a linguist, but he guessed it was something like Egyptian, with a different symbol for each word or sound.

               They filled almost the entirety of the door shape, but one circle was left untouched in the center of it all. He stared at the blank spot curiously. This part of the carving seemed most important, as though the writers had designed the whole piece to revolve around the single spot.

              Will held his hand up to the circle, and found it was the perfect size for his hand. He pressed his palm against the cool stone, and it seemed to sink in, though he saw the wall was solid. He felt his hand sinking deeper and deeper into the wall, and finally, when his arm was in up to his elbow, he felt something. It was a knob of sorts, rough and round by the feel of it. He blinked a few times in confusion. His eyes still saw a solid wall with his hand pressed against it, though his nerves felt something much different.

              Will grasped the knob and turned it clockwise, and heard three clicks as he completed the motion. At the third click, fire and light filled his senses, and he lost consciousness immediately.