Let's write a story together

[SnikPlosskin]

I have an idea for a work of fiction and thought it might be cool to write it here a chapter at a time with input from anyone who is interested.

The setting is Texas, the near future, two years into the collapse of the United States. The government has turned on the citizens and a resistance force has been assembled from military and law enforcement defectors and patriots.

The story centers around an ex-marine named "Colton Williams" and his son, "Charlie" who has taken up arms and is fighting in the same squad as his father.

Delta Squad is part of a force of 20 million rag tag resistance fighters known as "The Alliance" (or some shit). They are a classic guerilla force with decentralized control working as independent cells. They fight with personal equipment and what they can pilfer from raids on the government forces.

My objective is to have some fun with the idea of crowd sourcing. No expectations of a masterpiece. The story should be focused on the human drama over the post-apocalyptic setting. In other words, how would real people handle such an unreal situation?

I'll kick start with the first chapter.

The process will be:
1. I write a chapter draft and post here
2. You offer suggestions, edits, corrections, technical details (Military folks, this means you), story arc...
3. I edit chapter accordingly

I'm sick as hell today but can probably muster up enough energy to write the first chapter tonight.

We will need to develop the setting and main characters first. After that, I have no idea.

[lspencer534]

It was a dark and stormy day...and shit.

[SnikPlosskin]

It was a dark and stormy day...and shit.

The night was sultry.

[lspencer534]

The night was sultry.

Shouldn't that be the hero's girl?

[SnikPlosskin]

Shouldn't that be the hero's girl?

We do need a chick. Can't be a hero without a chick.

I have no idea how to write fiction. I don't even read fiction. But I know a hero needs a chick.

[lspencer534]

Let's call it "The Stand". Make it a long book. Maybe 1152 pages.

[lspencer534]

We do need a chick. Can't be a hero without a chick.

I have no idea how to write fiction. I don't even read fiction. But I know a hero needs a chick.

That's why you need a lawyer to help you.

[Fasglas]

We do need a chick. Can't be a hero without a chick.

I have no idea how to write fiction. I don't even read fiction. But I know a hero needs a chick.

https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSK-VzTCWUXlBlyPEWO-hVA-7TRrS0-kSeiNt7ZnuKgPmWr7V97UQ

[Cybercowboy]

We do need a chick. Can't be a hero without a chick.

I have no idea how to write fiction. I don't even read fiction. But I know a hero needs a chick.

I do read fiction and can tell you that writing a book of fiction is one of the most harrowing experiences authors undergo. Many a proto-author has been brought to their knees in the undertaking.

Here's my suggestion; write a short story with a beginning, middle, and end. Keep it to about 25 pages or less. If you can do that, and I'd be happy to help with suggestions and even do some copy work, then you'll know where you stand.

I've actually been fleshing out a SciFi novel, and by fleshing I mean "thinking" and it's almost terrifying writing the first word down.

I don't know if you know who Hugh Howey is but he wrote a short story named "Wool" a few years ago, just to see if he could. It was a post-apocalyptic little ditty, not far removed from what you are describing. It ended up being a series of longer and more detailed works and has evolved into an entire universe with fan fiction being written in that universe by rather prominent published authors. Maybe download a couple of his works and see what you think.

[lspencer534]

I do read fiction and can tell you that writing a book of fiction is one of the most harrowing experiences authors undergo. Many a proto-author has been brought to their knees in the undertaking.

Here's my suggestion; write a short story with a beginning, middle, and end. Keep it to about 25 pages or less. If you can do that, and I'd be happy to help with suggestions and even do some copy work, then you'll know where you stand.

I've actually been fleshing out a SciFi novel, and by fleshing I mean "thinking" and it's almost terrifying writing the first word down.

This short enough?:

"For sale:

Baby shoes.

Never worn."

--Ernest Hemingway

[Cybercowboy]

This short enough?:

"For sale:

Baby shoes.

Never worn."

--Ernest Hemingway

Hemmingway was a master at keeping things direct and to the point and yet was understated in the poetic nature of his prose. It would be:

My child died. It was not a good death, taking perhaps six hours from the onset of a wracking cough and ending with what can only be described as convulsions. The priest held her hand at the end, while I cowered in the foyer of the little clinic, too ashamed of my own cowardice.

When the end finally came, I collected her meager possessions and wandered the streets, numb. When I finally got home I saw the package on the kitchen table, a package I never was able to give her. New shoes, never worn. I broke down there, on my knees, sobs coming in waves like those I saw earlier that morning on that cold dark grey sea.

One thought, as dark as that sea, leapt to the forefront of my mind. You must sell those shoes, you have to pay for her funeral, as meager an affair as it will be.

And shit.

[SnikPlosskin]

I do read fiction and can tell you that writing a book of fiction is one of the most harrowing experiences authors undergo. Many a proto-author has been brought to their knees in the undertaking.

Here's my suggestion; write a short story with a beginning, middle, and end. Keep it to about 25 pages or less. If you can do that, and I'd be happy to help with suggestions and even do some copy work, then you'll know where you stand.

I've actually been fleshing out a SciFi novel, and by fleshing I mean "thinking" and it's almost terrifying writing the first word down.

I don't know if you know who Hugh Howey is but he wrote a short story named "Wool" a few years ago, just to see if he could. It was a post-apocalyptic little ditty, not far removed from what you are describing. It ended up being a series of longer and more detailed works and has evolved into an entire universe with fan fiction being written in that universe by rather prominent published authors. Maybe download a couple of his works and see what you think.

Doesn't scare me. But then again, I don't have much interest in being an author or publishing anything. I see it as a social experiment.

I'm intentionally not creating a story arc yet. I want to see how it develops.

I have some ideas in mind as to what happens to the characters. The setting is secondary. I figure the formula is something like:

Introduce characters and setting
Introduce conflict in protagonist
Action
More action
Protagonist has some breakthrough

I'm glad that somebody here is familiar with the genre though...:hurray:

I'm very interested in an idea where the characters are just cogs in a giant wheel - where their actions don't have much impact - pretty much the opposite of action hero movies.

[SnikPlosskin]

Chapter One - One Foot After the Other

Colton stared at the sun through the dust kicked up by the tires of the truck. It was rising fast now, curving up from the east like it did the day before and for as long as he could remember. Rise in the morning, set at night. Like clockwork. One foot after the other.

No matter where he was, it was the one thing he knew he could count on no matter what. The sun was the same in Afghanistan, Iraq or here in Texas.

His train of thought was interrupted by a hard jolt as the truck made its way across the prairie. The sounds of metal clanking and voices crept into his day dream.

“Hey! Colt’s dreaming again. Somebody give him a smack to wake his ass up.” Colt wasn’t sure who said it, but it didn’t matter anyway. The squad had been together almost a year now and it had devolved into grade school grab-assery.

“I was dreaming about your mother, asshole.” Colt responded. The laughter from the others riding in the back of the truck rose to an almost unprecedented level. It was the kind of awkward laughter one might hear walking in line to a firing squad - forced and self-conscious.

“Did you hear that Charlie? Your dad was dreaming about your mother...” Holy hell. Now his own son was barbing him. Charlie was barely twenty and had started fighting with the resistance force about eight months earlier after his mother was killed during a no-knock raid on his home by Homeland Security.

Charlie was an adult, technically, so it was hard to tell him to stand down. Colt called in some favors to ensure that Charlie at least had the advantage of fighting alongside his father.

The truck skid to a halt. Exhaust fumes and dust filled the bed of the truck as the team bailed out over the sides. Texas was struggling with a long-term drought and the ground was hard and dry. Colt recognized the familiar sound of combat boots hitting the gravel and the smell of diesel fuel.

The squad was one of the earliest cells to form after martial law was declared. Early in the conflict, there was some order to the resistance forces - utilizing an alphabet based system to name squads. Delta Squad was the fourth squad formed. Unlike the government forces, order was something the resistance sorely lacked.

The troops were assembled from everyday patriots and defecting military and law enforcement personnel. Gear came from closets, gun safes and local sporting goods shops. Nothing was standardized and it was only recently that the resistance forces were able to successfully take down supply lines and appropriate weapons, vehicles and supplies from Homeland Security.

“All right - everybody fall in.” Mike Kirk was a former E6 Special Forces veteran that had seen combat on every continent on the planet. He was the natural leader for Delta and he easily slipped into his role. He rolled a tattered map onto the ground.

Mike, known as “Gunny” is points at the map and says “We are here. We need to cut due east for about 20 miles - then straight south for another 5 miles. This will put us about 5 miles from the supply depot. We’ll hole up until dark and wait for orders.”

The group of ten men had heard these instructions before. This was the fourth raid in as many months. Colt adjusted the strap on his M16 and mentally ran through his supplies.

“Hey, I’ve got extra rations if you want some.” Charlie was walking beside him.

“What’d ya got?” asked Colt.

“Chocolate pudding”

“Pass. Any tequila in there?”

“Nope.” Charlie was a good kid but Colt knew he was still just a kid. Sometimes it seemed that Charlie didn’t understand how serious things were.

The sun was getting higher in the sky and the temperature was rising. They had enough water to last about a day in the heat. The sound of boots hitting the ground were repetitive like the sun rising and falling.

“One foot after the other.” Colton thought to himself. “One foot after the other.”

[Fasglas]

http://www.jason.bleckly.com/snoopy/writer/writerc001.gif

[Cybercowboy]

It has some promise, I like your basic writing style. Flesh it out some more and I promise I will read it and offer whatever suggestions I may have in a constructive manner.

[Sneaks]

On the outskirts of Salame Tx, stands a small resistance force known as Sting. The last bastion of free will left, in what was once known as, the United States. After the declaration of marshal law by the dictator Obama, those that refused to adhere to the new laws headed west to Texas to join the fight for independence for Texas.


Edit: I just saw your "draft". That's just eerie......:leaving:

[Cybercowboy]

It is important to keep the style consistent. For instance, in your short chapter, you use a style of allowing the characters to tell their own story. Keep that style, it's a good way to develop characters and let the reader adopt the ones they really like instead of telling them which ones they should like. For instance, in a later section do a similar treatment with Charlie's thoughts and his interaction with these men and women. Avoid the omniscient style, that gets annoying fast IMO.

When you bring the enemy into the story, just bring them in without any background or explanation. Let their thoughts and dialogue tell the story. This may seem obvious to you, it does to me, but I see so many fiction authors mess this up.

[SnikPlosskin]

It is important to keep the style consistent. For instance, in your short chapter, you use a style of allowing the characters to tell their own story. Keep that style, it's a good way to develop characters and let the reader adopt the ones they really like instead of telling them which ones they should like. For instance, in a later section do a similar treatment with Charlie's thoughts and his interaction with these men and women. Avoid the omniscient style, that gets annoying fast IMO.

When you bring the enemy into the story, just bring them in without any background or explanation. Let their thoughts and dialogue tell the story. This may seem obvious to you, it does to me, but I see so many fiction authors mess this up.

Great suggestions. I really have zero idea what I'm doing. I see things visually in my head - putting myself there. Already the characters look like people for me.

I wrote that first chapter in about 10 minutes.

Love the idea of introducing the enemy with no background - just like you would encounter them.

[SnikPlosskin]

I think the squad should be specialized in their duties - in this case, raiding supply depots.

This gives plenty of opportunity for action and life and death situations and focuses the concept.

Working title: The Raiders

[Cybercowboy]

Great suggestions. I really have zero idea what I'm doing. I see things visually in my head - putting myself there. Already the characters look like people for me.

I wrote that first chapter in about 10 minutes.

Love the idea of introducing the enemy with no background - just like you would encounter them.

That's actually pretty impressive. The main thing is "Avoid the narrator!" Can you imagine Heinlein or Asimov or Hemingway using a narrator? :lol:

They'd just as soon die. (and the first person who gives an example of them doing so gets nutsackpunched...)

[Cybercowboy]

I think the squad should be specialized in their duties - in this case, raiding supply depots.

This gives plenty of opportunity for action and life and death situations and focuses the concept.

Working title: The Raiders

How about "The Lost Country: Raiders"

And then you could do more "The Lost Country" titles like "The Lost Country: Tejas Navy" or "The Lost Country: Submission"

You get the idea. And "The Lost Country" was just a quick one-off title, lots of opportunity there to get something better.

[SnikPlosskin]

Chapter Two: Busted

“Watch your water consumption. You need that water to last.” Gunny wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. It was his style to shout orders and instructions into the air, assuming everyone was listening.

Of course, we knew that our lives depended on listening to Gunny. We heard every word.

We had been walking for hours in temperatures reaching over 100 degrees. We reached the first checkpoint and stopped for a short break before heading due south to hunker down for the raid.

“Do you think they will have some Bradleys there?” Charlie had a thing for the M2 Bradley the military’s preferred infantry fighting vehicle.

“They might. We’ll take what we can get.”

Colt constantly scanned his surroundings as a habit developed in the deserts of Afghanistan. He called it “head on a swivel” as he taught Charlie to survive in combat situations.

As he scanned the horizon, he thought he saw something moving. He peered through his binoculars to get a better look. Barely visible in the distance, a plume of dust was forming and cutting across the landscape.

“Sir, I think we have company.” Colt pointed to the dust cloud. “Looks at least 6 miles away.”

“Shit.” Gunny grabbed the binoculars and felt his gut tighten. The last thing they needed was to engage at this point in the operation. It would be suicide.

“Ladies, get yourself some cover and let’s lay low and see what this is... Gunny motioned to the squad keeping his eyes on what was clearly a truck blasting across the prairie in their direction.

The landscape was barren but it did have sizable rocks and some scraggly bushes to provide some cover. The men did their best to become invisible. In a matter of minutes, the pickup truck was upon the squad.

Gunny decided to approach the truck since it was not a military vehicle. Behind the wheel was an older man wearing a cowboy hat and a western shirt with pearl snaps. He slowly got out of the truck, with the door between him and Gunny. He had his hand on a 1911 pistol on his hip.

“What the **** are you doing out here?” The old man yelled.

“I’m taking a walk. Who wants to know?” Gunny was relaxed as he rested his arms on his M16 slung over his chest. He wore military issue BDUs. The old man wasn’t sure if Gunny was official military or not.

“Ain’t no way you are alone out here. Let’s cut the shit.” The old man hiked his gun belt up as it slid down his fat belly. “I own this land and you are trespassing. You ain’t one of those resistance fella’s are ya?”

Suddenly, the old man stepped backward and drew his pistol. “I see you ****ers!” The squad’s cover was blown. The team had weapons leveled on the old man and the situation was quickly getting tense.

“Hold it there my friend.” Gunny’s voice was soothing and smooth. “We don’t need no Mexican standoff here - we are just passing through.” He turned to his men, “Stand down gentlemen.” They lowered their rifles.

You are with the resistance. I’ll be damned.” The old man holstered his weapon and stepped out from behind the truck door. “You know there’s a big supply hub about 10 miles south of here? You boys are walkin’ into a world of shit...”

“What do you know about it?” Colt stepped out from behind a large rock outcropping.

“Hell, it’s on my land! They just took it. Papers said something about eminent domain. Nothin’ I could do about it. You boys need some water?”

As the squad filled their hydration bladders Gunny and Colt interviewed the old rancher about the depot. Intelligence was always lacking for the resistance and the old man’s information was golden.

The squad learned that there were three guard towers, the usual razor wire, dogs and storage facilities. More importantly, he was able to draw a crude map of the facilities.

“Sir?” Sam Jeremy, the squad’s COM officer approached Gunny from the left looking concerned. “May I speak to you privately?”

“Command looked up this guy. Daniel Grover. He owns most of the land around here. He checks out. But...” Sam paused.

“God damn it.” Gunny shook his head. He knew what was coming next.

Gunny walked back over to the old man. He was clearly agitated but he knew the orders were the right call. “Mr. Grover, I hate to do this but I’m gonna need you to put your hands on your head.”

Grover looked shocked as his face turned white when the blood ran from his head. “What the **** are you talking about? I’m ****ing helping you guys!”

“Colt, cuff him up. Look, understand, we can’t take any chances. We’ll keep you here until later tonight. We won’t hurt you. After our operation, we’ll escort you home. I’m sorry.”

“God damn it. I can’t believe y’all. This is how you say ‘thanks’?”

After covering the truck with branches, the men headed south with the rancher to wait for orders and to confirm that the operation was green lighted.

It was getting dark now and even Charlie seemed to feel the weight of what happened with the rancher. It was a betrayal but it was necessary. If someone were to tip off the depot, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

[SnikPlosskin]

How about "The Lost Country: Raiders"

And then you could do more "The Lost Country" titles like "The Lost Country: Tejas Navy" or "The Lost Country: Submission"

You get the idea. And "The Lost Country" was just a quick one-off title, lots of opportunity there to get something better.

Great idea. Two chapters is my limit for today.

[Cybercowboy]

* eminent domain

:leaving:

Seriously though, it has promise. Chapters are a little short, I'd suggest doing three of these "mini-chapters" per actual chapter. Each chapter would be a break to a different part of the action, perhaps not all in one place, but a break. For instance, after they arrive at the compound and prior to the actual raid, Chapter 2 starts off with the compound operations from the view of the enemy.

[SnikPlosskin]

* eminent domain

:leaving:

Seriously though, it has promise. Chapters are a little short, I'd suggest doing three of these "mini-chapters" per actual chapter. Each chapter would be a break to a different part of the action, perhaps not all in one place, but a break. For instance, after they arrive at the compound and prior to the actual raid, Chapter 2 starts off with the compound operations from the view of the enemy.

hmmm. short 'eh? They seem mighty long to me! :D

Agree to combine them - also could be more descriptive. I sort of deviated away from Colt and Charlie - that interaction could be expanded.

Love the idea of having action happening at the same time but through different eyes and places. For example, while these guys are hiking and getting ready, the depot is business as usual - boring, monotonous etc.

I think the story is really about Colt. His wife is dead, his son is immature and will prove to be a liability. Colt just thinks it's another war. He is going through the motions at this point.

Somehow, we'll take him to an apex and transform him - in some way...

I'm also thinking there will be at least three big battles and a serious plot twist. This sort of conflict would be very brutal. Don't assume the resistance wins either.

In fact, with regard to the war, there should be no winning or losing. Just people put in circumstances beyond their control. Ideology meets reality.

[Cybercowboy]

hmmm. short 'eh? They seem mighty long to me! :D

Agree to combine them - also could be more descriptive. I sort of deviated away from Colt and Charlie - that interaction could be expanded.

Love the idea of having action happening at the same time but through different eyes and places. For example, while these guys are hiking and getting ready, the depot is business as usual - boring, monotonous etc.

I think the story is really about Colt. His wife is dead, his son is immature and will prove to be a liability. Colt just thinks it's another war. He is going through the motions at this point.

Somehow, we'll take him to an apex and transform him - in some way...

I'm also thinking there will be at least three big battles and a serious plot twist. This sort of conflict would be very brutal. Don't assume the resistance wins either.

In fact, with regard to the war, there should be no winning or losing. Just people put in circumstances beyond their control. Ideology meets reality.

I think the sub-chapters are fine as is - one more sub and then new chapter, often you'll see a little marker between subs, but a true chapter change is a perhaps a new day, a new set of characters, etc. Set a pace you think is appropriate though. Keep your focus on your main characters but you must develop them and that takes switching things up, including going back into their past. When I read a character driven story, I know within the first few chapters if I actually care about the characters.

[SnikPlosskin]

If anyone wants to bang out a chapter or sub chapter - have at it.

I'm thinking the raid goes very wrong. Colten, Charlie and Gunny barely get out with their lives. Colt has a minor injury and ends up with one of the guard dogs -(now we have Colt, Charlie and a German Shepherd!) they don't get much else but they do disrupt the supply chain.

Or ???

[lspencer534]

If anyone wants to bang out a chapter or sub chapter - have at it.

I'm thinking the raid goes very wrong. Colten, Charlie and Gunny barely get out with their lives. Colt has a minor injury and ends up with one of the guard dogs -(now we have Colt, Charlie and a German Shepherd!) they don't get much else but they do disrupt the supply chain.

Or ???

Where's the unplanned sex between Colt and his hot chick? You know...in case they expect to die and want some...closeness?

[SnikPlosskin]

This is harder than it seems....

I don't think it will ever be finished. I'm pretty ignorant about war type shit..

Also, I forgot about writing from the standpoint of the enemy. Not too late though. I wanted to develop Colt's character a bit more.


Chapter Three: Just another raid

The squad arrived at the staging area in just over an hour. The rancher added some drag to the team, but they did their best to make him comfortable under the circumstances.

Colton’s feet were sore and he welcomed the break, however short it would be.

“How are you doin’, kid?” Charlie shrugged and give a silent thumbs-up.

Colton felt like shaking him and screaming “Don’t you realize what we are doing?!” but he knew it would not make any difference. He settled to the ground and took a long drink of water. It tasted like plastic.

“You get in here now, Colton Isaiah Williams!” He knew he didn’t have any more wiggle room when his mother spit his full name out. He got up, brushed off the dust and headed towards the house.

“Good Lord, you are filthy. Dinner is ready. Don’t let your father see you like that - get cleaned up and get yer butt down to the table.”

Mary Williams was a pretty woman with high cheekbones and blazing green eyes. If her life had taken a minor turn, she could have been a debutant. Instead, she met John Williams, a share cropper from Paris, Texas. They moved to a small farm just east of Paris near Clarksville Texas. Colton was their only child.

The years were kind to Mary but she showed the signs of a share cropper’s life. Her skin looked thick from sun exposure and her hands were calloused. She still wore her dark hair up in a bun but she was less fastidious about it and stray hairs fell across her face. She was a beautiful woman, but she looked tired.

Colton grew up within a three mile radius of Clarksville. He enlisted in the U.S. Army as soon as he turned eighteen. Between deployments, he met Sheila Cowpert. Sheila was two years younger than Colton and, military life withstanding, together they created a life and had a son of their own.

Upon being honorably discharged, Colton and Sheila left Campbell Barracks near Heidelberg, Germany and settled into a small apartment north of Dallas, Texas. Charlie grew up in the small apartment but had moved to his own place by the time They came.

The US government had long painted military veterans as potential threats to the Republic. The tools of the propagandist were just as sharp as anytime in history and it wasn’t long before teams of the state’s domestic force were knocking down doors and confiscating veterans’ weapons.

Colton always abided by the law and, like most of his peers, dutifully registered most of his weapons years before.

However, this wasn’t good enough. The team from Homeland Security initiated a no knock warrant on May 22, 2045. Colton put up no resistance. He and Sheila calmly put their hands on their heads and followed directions shouted by the enforcers.

“Where are the rifles?” The leader yelled.

“You have all of them” Colton replied.

“Tear this place up.” he commanded his team to search the house. “Take her outside..”

Colton bit his tongue. He looked at the commander and said quietly “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

The next thing he remembered was a bright flash of light and waking up face down in a holding cell. He had a bad headache and the imprint of a rifle stock on this left temple. Blood dried in his hair and beard.

“Where is she?” He screamed at the camera in the corner of the room near the ceiling.

Months later, he would learn that Sheila was accidentally asphyxiated at the hands of the HS Team. There was a dozen reports and investigations. In the end, no charges were filed.

“Dad, wake up. Time to go” Charlie was pulling on Colt’s sleeve. The operation was green lighted and they would now walk the last five miles in the dark to the supply depot.

It took a few seconds for Colton to emerge from the memories and understand where he was and what he needed to do. But years of combat made this a short process and he was almost immediately on his feet.

“Alright...Now that Mr. Williams has graced us with his presence, we need to get on with this thing.” Gunny smeared shoe polish on this face and passed the can.

“I don’t need to tell you this but the name of this game is stealth. Once we get in spitting distance, Team one will flank to the East and set the charge. Everybody needs to wait at least 30 seconds after the charge before doing anything!”

The plan was to detonate an explosive charge on the opposite side of the camp to create a distraction. When the enemy ran towards the explosion, the rest of the team would breech the fences. They would close in on the government forces like a noose - firing at will.

As the fighters trudged towards the depot there was no chatting, laughing or other distraction. It wasn’t about stealth. It was that the circumstances were such that there was really nothing to say.

Charlie pulled his hat down over his eyes and clicked off his safety. His eyes met Colt’s and for a brief moment he and Charlie where back at the apartment. But the moment was fleeting.

As the squad crested a small hill, the sign was given to hold. This was it. The demolition team cut to the left while the others waited. Colton took a long draw on his water tube.

The sky overhead was clear as crystal. There were so many stars it was overwhelming to consider. There was no wind to speak of and the only sound was the distant generators powering the depot.

The explosion seemed louder than normal. Colton and Charlie felt the rush of adrenaline as the charge detonated and it took all of their strength and discipline to wait for the order to proceed.

Before they knew it, they were cutting the fence and entering the compound. Like previous raids, they first fired upon the guard towers. The government forces had night vision so disabling the towers was first priority. They lit up the three towers with gun fire, as they scuttled from cover to cover.

They could hear gun fire coming from the direction of the explosive. Normally, they would be shooting at the backs of soldiers as they ran to the bomb site. However, this time, it was different.

Opposing forces were running directly at Colt and his men. Bullets whizzed over their heads and wooden cover exploded into shards. They were taking heavy fire and were pinned down behind a humvee.

Sam Jeremy crouched down and signaled for cover fire. Before he could get up, a round shattered his skull. It ricocheted inside of his helmet piercing his brain mulitple times and he instantly fell. Blood spattered on Colt and Charlie as they retreated from the oncoming barrage.

Charlie deployed a smoke grenade to obscure their position. It was a home made device mixing potassium nitrate with cane sugar. It did the job and they retreated to a supply hut. The hut was empty except for some MREs and a few boxes of 5.56 ammunition.

Charlie fired out the window. He was an above average marksman and seldom missed his target. He dropped at least five men in a few seconds. Colton knew they needed to leave the hut and he and Charlie leap frogged each other, alternatively providing cover fire as they moved to a more advantageous position.

Several more explosions shattered the night as the fuel tanks were destroyed. Then, the sound of helicopters and GM mini guns.

Colton and Charlie were now separated from their team. Somehow the operation was out of control. As they rounded another storage hut, they ran into Gunny.

"Son, we need to abort. This is going to hell. We've lost almost the entire squad. We need to get out of here."

Just as he finished his sentence, Colt felt a searing pain in his left leg. "I'm hit!"

"Dad! we gotta go now! Can you walk?"

"yes, I think so." adrenaline was dampening the pain and he hobbled up and prepared to make a break for the gate. He could hear the sound of helicopters in the distance.

Charlie, Gunny and Colt ran through the gate and into the night. They hid in the scrub as they watched the supply depot burn to the ground.

They expected the rest of the team to join them at the extraction point but they never showed. Seven men were killed in the raid.

Colton's wound was bleeding profusely. Gunny injected a special wound treatment consisting of thousands of tiny sponges to stop the bleeding. It hurt like hell.

They hid until the following morning. Colton was losing consciousness from blood loss and shock. He woke up to a dog licking his face. One of the German Shepherd guard dogs escaped the mayhem.

The three fighters carefully moved to the extraction point where a resistence helicopter was waiting. As they boarded the aircraft, the dog jumped into the cargo hold.

The mission was a disaster. The supply depot was destroyed but no supplies were appropriated. Seven resistance fighters died.

The three rode back to the base in silence. Colt unconsciously petted the dog as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Gunny wiped tears from his eyes and Charlie openly weeped. This was not how the operation was supposed to go.

[lspencer534]

OP, I love the story, but it's moving along too fast for me. I think there needs to be more build-up of tension. Perhaps not by character interaction, since that can get sappy and tedious, but maybe by more flashbacks to add a much more war-addled persona to the hero and others...showing their fatigue and weariness.

If you're going to simply do raid after raid of munitions compounds, that's going to get boring in a hurry. Is the next raid just going to involve more deaths and fire power? I think the characters need to show exactly why they're fighting. Sure, Colt's wife was killed by the Government...but maybe that should be only a secondary reason.

I'm babbling a bit, but maybe the writing pro can explain it better.

[SnikPlosskin]

OP, I love the story, but it's moving along too fast for me. I think there needs to be more build-up of tension. Perhaps not by character interaction, since that can get sappy and tedious, but maybe by more flashbacks to add a much more war-addled persona to the hero and others...showing their fatigue and weariness.

If you're going to simply do raid after raid of munitions compounds, that's going to get boring in a hurry. Is the next raid just going to involve more deaths and fire power? I think the characters need to show exactly why they're fighting. Sure, Colt's wife was killed by the Government...but maybe that should be only a secondary reason.

I'm babbling a bit, but maybe the writing pro can explain it better.

Good points. I like the flash back idea to build the characters. Colton should be complex - sort of addled and perhaps a bit unhinged.

I'm thinking that this raid will go horribly wrong and set the course for the rest.

Note that Colton did not see Sheila get killed.

What occurs to me with regard to the pace is I'm writing more for a movie than a novel - without thinking about it.

I will likely go back into the chapters and flesh them out. Unless I get burned out on the thing...:D

[lspencer534]

Good points. I like the flash back idea to build the characters. Colton should be complex - sort of addled and perhaps a bit unhinged.

I'm thinking that this raid will go horribly wrong and set the course for the rest.

Note that Colton did not see Sheila get killed.

What occurs to me with regard to the pace is I'm writing more for a movie than a novel - without thinking about it.

I will likely go back into the chapters and flesh them out. Unless I get burned out on the thing...:D

Getting burned out is a real possibility. Writing is hard--very hard! And I do it only in a limited way: Legal briefs to support an argument.

I think you are right about your writing for a movie rather than a novel. The movie can trim the novel down to fit; the novel should be painstakingly complete and with depth. A novel must draw the reader in with such interest that the reader is literally addicted to the novel. It must not be a book that "once I put it down I couldn't pick it up again".

I'm aware that writing like this will be agony, but you will hit a stride that clicks, and it will flow more easily. Good luck! I think you have promise.

[Fasglas]

* eminent domain

:leaving:

Seriously though, it has promise. Chapters are a little short, I'd suggest doing three of these "mini-chapters" per actual chapter. Each chapter would be a break to a different part of the action, perhaps not all in one place, but a break. For instance, after they arrive at the compound and prior to the actual raid, Chapter 2 starts off with the compound operations from the view of the enemy.

Short chapters? Hmmm...

Just read Patterson's PRIVATE, #1 Suspect. All chapters are short, 1 or two pages. Different, to be sure, but I enjoyed it.

Sometimes long chapters become bogged down in unnecessary minutia.

[1911fool]

May I suggest that it is 5.56 and not .556, also GE mini-guns instead of Gatlin guns. The minis have a very unique sound. 6000 rounds per minute.

So far I'm enjoying the story.

[Sneaks]

May I suggest that it is 5.56 and not .556, also GE mini-guns instead of Gatlin guns. The minis have a very unique sound. 6000 rounds per minute.

So far I'm enjoying the story.

MRE's not MRI's also. There are a few more errors in grammar, but nothing you wouldn't catch after re-reading it Snake.

[Sneaks]

The chopper hitting ground jolted Colt from his stupor. The adrenaline had subsided enough for the real pain of his wound to hit. And hit it did. Like a sledgehammer to your head. Colt had felt this kind of pain before, in afghanistan. He didn't like it then, and sure as fukc didn't like it now.
"Let's get your ass over to see Doc before that thing gets septic" Gunny said. He helped Colt from the chopper, and they headed over to Doc's.
Doc, Henry Griffith was his given name but everyone called him Doc, wasn't really a medically trained doctor. He was a dentist, but he was the closest thing to medically trained personnel they had.
Back in his civilian days, he had a nice practice, a comfortable home, two kids, and a wife who loved him. He had the American dream, until the dream turned into a nightmare.
HS had raided his home, and office. They had a "tip" that he was hoarding drugs and ammunition, and was selling them to the resistance. They took him and his family in for questioning. Questioning turned into nothing short of torture. They kept them awake for days, depriving them of food and water. Continually asking them the same questions: Where were the drugs and ammo, where is the resistance cell you're selling to, who is your contact, where are you getting your supplies......
It was more than they could take. The children were the first to die. Dehydration took them. After that, his wife hung herself in her holding cell.
With nothing left to live for, Doc wanted to die himself, but HS was going to have none of that. Not until they had gotten what they wanted. They took everything out of his cell, and stripped him naked. "You're not going to off yourself like that bitch of yours" they growled as they threw him onto the concrete floor and slammed the door shut.
Lying there, naked, starving, dehydrated, his family gone, Doc steeled himself to the facts. It was at that point that the harsh reality finally hit him. The way of life he once knew, the family he once loved, and the country he once trusted to protect its people, was gone forever.
Doc made a vow to himself. If by some miracle he survived this, he would join the resistance, and avenge his family's death. He thought to himself, "Henry what can you do? You're not a fighter, never even held a gun in your hand. You know nothing of the ways of a soldier. How can you help the resistance?".
Little did he know that the answer he was searching for was quickly approaching.

[SnikPlosskin]

Great job Sneaks! I'll flesh the doctor out later. I have a friend who is a combat doc - he is perfect for that role.

[Sneaks]

Great job Sneaks! I'll flesh the doctor out later. I have a friend who is a combat doc - he is perfect for that role.

:seasix:

[Ruffy]

I skipped a lot of the posts in this thread but I got a distinct "Throw Momma from the Train" vibe:leaving:

[78SA]

Bring back the HS Commander later in the story. He can be a major antagonist.

[78SA]

Future female character could be introduced as a mysterious person that helps Colt once and he witnesses helping some other resistance fighters. Maybe like a sniper. She could be the daughter of a rancher that took her hunting since she was little and she got very good with a rifle.

[SnikPlosskin]

Chapter 4 - Clean through
The chopper hitting ground jolted Colt from his stupor. The adrenaline had subsided enough for the real pain of his wound to register. Colt had felt this kind of pain before, when he took a pretty good sized piece of shrapnel in Iraq years before.

"Let's get your ass over to see Doc before that thing gets septic" Gunny said. He helped Colt from the chopper, and they headed out. Colt grit his teeth as the pain radiated up his leg. It seemed to drill into his hip and shot bolts of lightning up through his spine. He had no idea of the severity of the wound. All he could see was tattered cloth and blood below his left knee.

Henry Griffith was his given name but everyone called him Shotgun. He was a short, squat man with a sizable girth and a rapid fire style of talking that at times made him seem compulsive. He wasn't really a medical doctor. He was a dentist, but he was the closest thing to medically trained personnel they had.

Back in his civilian days, he had a nice practice, a comfortable home, two kids, and a wife who loved him. He had the American dream, until the dream turned into a nightmare.

HS had raided his home, and office. They had a tip that he was hoarding drugs and ammunition and selling them to the resistance. That night, they took him and his family in for questioning.

The interrogators kept them awake for days, depriving them of food and water. Continually asking them the same questions: Where were the drugs and ammo? Who are your contacts? Where are you getting your supplies?

His children and wife were relocated to a holding camp. He was held for six more weeks. Upon his release, he combed the records to find his family but to no avail.

Shotgun was fast asleep when he jolted awake to pounding on the front door. “Shotgun! Open up. We need your help!”

Griffith flipped on the lights and quickly opened the door, checking to see if anyone was following or watching.

“He took a round in his left calf, doc. Can you patch him up?” Gunny headed for the refrigerator and helped himself to a beer. Charlie paced back and forth in the living room visibly worried.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Shotgun cut the pant leg away and quickly found the entry wound. He checked the other side and found an exit wound.

“You got lucky. It went clean through. It’s not too bad.”

“Easy for you to say, Doc.” Colton was relieved that the wound wasn’t too drastic.

“It gets worse before it gets better. We don’t have any lidocane. You’re gonna have to bear down on it while I clean it out.”

Over the last year, Shotgun became proficient at repairing gunshot wounds. He learned that you can’t just sew it up - it needs to be cleaned and the destroyed flesh cut away. Colt braced himself for the procedure.

Shotgun worked quickly while Gunny held Colt down. He removed the sponges and irrigated the wound. It was a fairly clean hole so he didn’t need to remove too much tissue. He covered the wound with a compression bandage.

“You’ll need to change that bandage four times a day and keep that area clean. I’m not stitching it up yet, it will need to drain. Let’s give it a week or so, and we’ll see where we are then.”

Gunny brought Colton and Charlie a beer from the refrigerator. Shotgun was prepared enough to have a generator and was able to adapt after the power grid failed. They sat around the table drinking in silence. Gunny was first the break the ice.

“We really blew it tonight. I really blew it. Those men died because of me. I should have aborted as soon as that rancher showed up.” He was visibly upset.

“Something was off from the minute we blew the charge.” Colt said. “It was bigger and louder than usual. As soon as we came through the gate, they were all over us.”

Shotgun looked somber. “What happened tonight?” Colton and Gunny filled him in on the details including the loss of seven fighters.

“We didn’t even secure any supplies. It was all we could do to get out of there.” Charlie commiserated.

They thanked the doctor for his help and drove back to the makeshift command center. “I’ve got to go” said Gunny. “You gonna be OK?”

Colton replied in the affirmative and asked “You?” to which Gunny replied “I don’t think so.”

Gunny drove back to his apartment and poured himself a scotch. He collapsed into the couch as his exhaustion finally started to kick in.

“I ****ed up big time today. I let those guys down.” He shook his head and slammed the scotch.

The bullet pierced the soft tissue beneath his chin, blasted through his tongue and shattered his palette. A .45 ACP hollow point round expanded as it hit the bones of his sinus cavity, tearing through the cartilage, into his brain and finally exiting out the top of his skull leaving a softball sized hole. Chunks of brain and bits of bone splattered up the wall behind the couch and several gallons of fluid spilled from the wound.

Mike was aware of what he had done for two or three seconds and then nothing but blackness. There was no pain to speak of, it felt numb.

[SnikPlosskin]

http://i87.photobucket.com/albums/k130/ThrakkorzogPJM/raiders-Art_zps646395f8.jpg

[78SA]

:waiting:

[Cybercowboy]

Bad ass book cover!

[xXBUDXx]

I can barely compose a coherent post.

Pics of Mary Williams?

[Sneaks]

Charlie went through his post-mission equipment check with a numbness that he had never felt before. Never had he been involved in a mission that ended like this one.
How could they lose so many guys like that? Why didn't he do things different? Was it somehow his fault that those men were dead? He kept pouring over these questions for the better part of the night. He couldn't shake the sickened feeling in his gut, so he kept at his equipment check. Each time he finished, he automatically started over at the beginning. Anything to try and numb his mind.
When he caught glimpse of a clock, it was 3:30 in the morning. He thought, "I should hit the rack.", and started toward his bedroom. Then he remembered, it wasn't like he had to get up for class tomorrow or anything. Thoughts of college were just a dream these days. The only people who went to college were "complier kids". Kids of families that had given into big brother. Sure as fukc wasn't Charlies family.
Charlie had looked forward going to college as a kid. When he was young , his dad would tell him stories of parties, and girls, and all the good times he had with his fraternity brothers. Charlie could see himself chasing girls, getting shitfaced drunk with his frat brothers, living the whole college experience. But not now. That dream is just that, a dream. Always will be.
So deep in his thoughts was Charlie that he didn't hear the door open.......

[SnikPlosskin]

Chapter Five: The Two Man Rule

Colton and Charlie arrived at their flat just past 3am. By now, Colt could feel every beat of his heart emanating from his tightly bandaged wound. He took a pillow and used it to prop up his leg on the couch.

“What is that smell?” Colton asked.

“It wasn’t me. I think it’s the dog” answered Charlie. Colton had all but forgotten about the guard dog that attached itself to their group.

“Charlie, we aren’t keeping that dog. We can barely feed ourselves. How are we going to care for it?”

“He has a name. It’s on his tags. It says Property of the United States of America and under that - ‘Levi’.

Upon hearing his name, Levi cocked his head towards Charlie, his brown, almond shaped eyes gleaming with curiosity. He was born from German working lines which gave him a large, solid bone structure. He wasn’t particularly large, measuring about 63 centimeters at the shoulder. HIs coat was the classic black and reddish-tan color of famous German Shepherd Dogs like Rin Tin Tin and Roy Rogers’ Bullet.

“I don’t care what his name is. He stinks and he’s got to go.”

“Let’s think about this for a minute dad. This fine animal of warfare is the best of the best the military has to offer. You know what they can do - you’ve worked with them when you were in sandbox” Charlie was giving his best sales pitch. “He could be a real asset for us.”

Colton was too tired to have this argument right now. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” he said as he rolled over turning his back to Charlie.

“I’ll give him a bath first thing in the morning - he sure does stink.” As soon as Charlie said the word “bath” Levi’s head cocked and he sprinted to the bathroom and back to Charlie.

“I think he wants a bath...” Levi barked and ran into the bathroom returning with a towel in his mouth which he dropped at Charlie’s feet. “I’m too tired tonight, you’ll have to wait for tomorrow.” Charlie smiled and walked to his bedroom. Levi followed and laid at the foot of the bed.

After a few hours of fitful sleep, Colton got up and attempted to put weight on his leg. The pain was fast and intense. The bandage was soaked through with blood and puss. As he readied him self to change the dressing, Charlie handed him a piece of cold toast.

“We are getting low on food. That’s pretty much all we have.” Colt devoured the dry toast and said “We’ll need to go out and resupply. Let me change this bandage and we’ll go.”

“Why don’t you just stay here and take care of that and I’ll go get some food?” Charlie offered.

“You know the deal. Minimum two men on patrols and raids. No exceptions.” Colton pulled on the dressing and winced as it stuck to the wound.

“You can’t even walk on it. How are you going to make the rounds with that?” Colton knew Charlie was right. He wasn’t going anywhere today.

“Hey, I know. How about I go and take Levi with me? Nobody’s gonna **** with us with Levi there.” Charlie knew this was a way to show how the dog could serve a useful purpose.

Colton was stuck. They needed food. It had been two days since they had a decent meal. He was going to have to give in.

“OK. Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. Take a radio and check in every thirty minutes.”

Charlie beamed. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He grabbed the radio and his 1911.

“Wait up. I thought you were giving that dog a bath first thing this morning.” Colt had a peculiar hangup about doing things in order. Especially if something was discussed and agreed upon, he expected to proceed as discussed. In this case, it didn’t matter if the dog got a bath now or later, what mattered is the order and consistency of how and when things are done. “Take 15 and clean that stinky mutt before I throw both of you out in the yard.”

“You want a bath, boy?” Levi immediately headed to the bathroom and jumped in the tub. Even though the water was cold, he seemed enjoy the process. Charlie was amazed at how much water Levi’s thick, double coat absorbed. After a quick shampoo and rinse, Levi bolted from the bathtub and into the living room soaking wet where he proceeded to furiously shake the water from his coat - soaking everything in a 360 degree radius.

Charlie stood with the towel attempting to minimize the damage. Water flew everywhere, on the ceiling, walls and floor. On the radio and the books on the table. Charlie quickly threw the towel on Levi’s back and vigorously attempted to dry the manic dog.

Levi thought this was a fantastic game. He crouched low, barking at Charlie and running through the house. Charlie did his best to catch him. At one point, Levi grabbed the towel from Charlie and leaped onto the bed, rolling over and over on the sheets.

Colton was unimpressed. But deep inside, he was laughing. This was the first moment of pure joy they had experienced in years.

Charlie and Levi headed out the door to make the rounds of abandoned homes, convenience stores and markets. Colt and Charlie attempted to maintain a garden, but it was impossible to keep safe from neighborhood raiders.

When the grid went down, the shelves at the stores were bare within four days. People used what they had for a few weeks and then things turned ugly. There was violence as families tried to get needed food for their kids.

Now, over a year into the collapse, some supply chains were sporadic, some businesses continued to function with limited stock. Neighborhood farmers markets sprung up everywhere bartering ammunition, medicines and other goods for food.

Charlie knew they would find food and supplies before the day was out. He just didn’t know where or when. Levi shadowed Charlie on his left side - scanning the area with eyes and ears tuned. No detail was too small for him to notice. Charlie felt reassured with Levi at his side.

[SnikPlosskin]

Disclaimer: parts of this cheesy story may have been influenced by the 'Tussin and other prescription pharmaceuticals taken under the strict supervision of some 12 year old physicians assistant at the walk in clinic.

[1911fool]

so far so good,,,,keep going.

[SnikPlosskin]

Story has moved to here:

Lost Country: The Raiders | A Collaborative Fiction Experiment (http://lostcountry2045.wordpress.com/)

I think it will be a better platform.