Sinking (COMPLETED)

[perfectlemonade]

Author's Note: I, myself, am a writer. That's what I want to do in my life, believe it or not. I'm currently working on a full length novel that is currently at 74,000 words, or around 250 pgs, and hope to get it published one day. And yes, there are zombies in it, but that's not the main storyline... for the most part. I have also gotten many poems, short stories, etc. published in magazines and literary journals.

SO, that being said, I take this stuff seriously. I want constructive feedback, because I plan on committing myself fully and wholly to my writing, and to do so I want to get as good as I possibly can at it.

This piece in particular, which I have hesitantly titled Sinking, started out as an English assignment and has turned into one of my favorite works to date. I'm just starting to really expand it from its original three-page English story thing, but whatever. I'm going to post just the prologue here. If y'all enjoy it, I'll start posting weekly updates.

Oh yeah, this is about zombies on a cruise ship. It has absolutely nothing to do with Black Ops Zombies or anything, though. Sorry. I guess.

btw, sorry if I came off as pretentious or whatever. I just wanted to get the point across that I really like writing, and I want to start taking full advantage of this section haha.

So, here it is:

__________

Sinking

I can hear them. I can hear them everywhere.

     My flesh.

     Wonderful.

     “Yeah,” I say. It comes out so flat, so lifeless. “It’s like the vuvuzelas from the World Cup. They make me want to kill myself.”

     Emily is blonde. And hot. But she’s also blonde, so I guess that speaks for itself. “No,” I say. I don’t feel like teasing her right now. I would’ve two days ago, when I had dreams of scoring with this chick, but now it just seems inappropriate. My mother is probably dead or zombified. I can’t be thinking about hot blondes now. “The zombies.”

     Why is she giggling right now? Is she that oblivious? “Why are you in a good mood? There are zombies out there. They will eat you. Do you not get that?”

     “No,” I snap, holding up my index finger. “Just stop. Just leave. Go talk to the captain and let him ‘comfort’ you.” I put the ‘comfort’ in air quotes. Because she’s trying to come onto me… nevermind.

     And then I’m alone again. I watch my little brother is playing his PSP in a corner, his ear buds up at full blast to keep out the moans. It makes me feel sick to my stomach when I see him like that. Alone. Isolated. Scared. I love this kid with all my heart, with everything I have. I’d gladly break the glass that separates us from the zombies and leap out headfirst if it meant his survival. I’d do it without thinking.

     “Daniel?”

     “Yeah, buddy.”

     I look down at him, grasping his hand firmly and kind of disappointed with such a thing. “What? Of course we are, Colin. The captain got on the radio and told all the other ships in the area about what happened. Soon the military is going to come, and we’re going to find Mom and get out of here.”

     “Yeah,” I answer, smiling. “Like what Dad is in.”

     And suddenly I get this overwhelming image of our twelve hours of hell. This has happened a few times since Colin and I reached the bridge. It’s just a replay, a hallucinogenic torture of what we went through. The first time, I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t, not really. Now I just let it happen. I let the images, the emotions, the sensations flood my head.

     I let myself go back.

___________________________

One

It starts like this.

     “Colin? Mom?” I stumble out of bed, yearning for sleep again. But my head is clear. Okay, so maybe it hurts a little, and maybe I participated some underage drinking last night, but for the most part I’m thinking straight.

And something doesn’t feel right.

There’s the sound of glass shattering through the door. That’s never a good sign. But I’m intrigued, and slightly scared, so I slowly creep towards the door. My hand wraps around the cold metal knob. Suddenly they’re shaking. Suddenly my whole body is shaking. There is something going on.

     Crap.

     I take a few seconds to figure things out, sitting down on the side of my bed. S*it. S*it. There are zombies. And we’re on a freaking cruise ship. However huge a cruise ship may be, there aren’t many places to run from zombies. It isn’t like, a field or something. It’s a boat. It’s finite.

     Somehow, I fight back my freakout mode and return to semi-calm mode. My first thought is Colin and Mom. Oh God. What if they went outside? What if one of them got Colin? What if Colin is one of them?

     I burst through the flimsy door connecting their room to mine, the hinges yelping and, finally, breaking and falling to the floor. “Mom! Colin!”

     “Mom!” I repeat, this time louder.

     “Mom. It’s Daniel.”

     I shake my head. “Mom, we have to get out of here.”

     There’s a sudden chorus of inhuman moans, deep and agonized wails. I know that sound. I’ve seen enough Romero to know what those are. “Zombies. There are zombies outside.”

     “I’m serious.”

     Mom suddenly looks confused, eyes glazing over. “What… what is going on?” She’s shriveling up. She can’t handle it. “Oh my God. We’re going to die.”

     Wow. I’ve actually fantasized of this moment before. Zombies have always been my thing. Zombie books, zombie movies, zombie video games. I’ve done it all, and I know everything there is to know about zombies. I mean, I’ve dreamt of having to deal with a zombie invasion. But now that I’m like, doing it in real life, it’s kind of really freaking scary.

     “Okay!?” I exclaim.

     “Good. Just keep calm. We can survive this if we work together.”

     But hey, if I go down, at least I go down like a hero. There’s no shame in being killed by zombies.

     S*it. In a Romero movie, this is where the hero (or heroine, I’m an inclusive guy) would prove himself to either die in the first thirty minutes of the movie by the hands of a mass of zombies, or maybe have a decent chance of survival. But, then again, this isn’t a Romero movie. For all I know, we may be the last people alive on the ship.

     Later, Daniel. Suck it up. You can throw up after you get the hell out of here.

     “Oh. Hi. I suppose you won’t let me pass by, right?”

     “Well, um, okay. If you want to stop, you’re welcome to.” Maybe reasoning with him will help some.

     “Ah. That doesn’t surprise me.” But it’s okay. I’ve prepared for this. I’ve read the Zombie Survival Guide. See, the three most dangerous parts of the zombie are both hands and its mouth. If you can stay away from those, you’re basically safe. So what you’ve got to do is just make those three things move out of your way. If you do that, you’re fine.

     I take a second or two to celebrate, then sprint over to the axe and knock out the glass with my elbow. Immediately fire alarms sound. Wow. The ship has become infested with zombies, and no one had the sense to pull a fire alarm yet? Sometimes, the stupidity of people really disturbs me, even if they are faced with a threat as unexpected as zombies. I’ve already decided that it’s not muscle that will get us through this cluster f*ck, it’s brains.

     I turn around, and suddenly there’s an arm on my shoulder, tugging at my Coldplay shirt. (Yeah, I like Coldplay. Don’t judge me.) Everything kind of slows down. I only get a glimpse of an open, bloody mouth heading straight for my neck before my axe has driven into its skull. The thing is so heavy and sharp that I don’t even really feel an impact. There’s not even much of a crunch. It’s just a clean slice, right above the ear.

     I look up and realize the zombie has gotten in. The door is now nothing but a pile of wood. I can’t imagine the pain that must have inflicted on its fingers. I mean, Jesus. Nothing is going to stop these things from getting some meat. Nothing.

     I haul a*s into the room, leaping through the door like some Usain Bolt s*it. There’s not much time to think about what to swing the axe at. I make a split second decision and slam the blade of the axe into a figure standing over Colin’s bed. The blade cuts like a knife to butter. I’m gonna spare the details in here, but basically the axe cuts the zombie in half. It’s like, Mortal Kombat stuff. Finisher. Good night.

     “Oh my God, Daniel! What the f*ck just happened?!” Mom screams.

     “Mom, Mom, it’s okay,” Colin says. He was hiding in the bathroom.

     She doesn’t answer.

     “Yeah,” Mom answers. Her lip is quivering. Give me a break.

     And I do just that.

___________________

Two

“Okay, so here’s the plan. We don’t know how badly this zombie thing is spread out, but until we can find out, we have to assume that the entire ship has been overtaken, and everyone on the ship has been infected besides us.” I cough. I wish I could ask Romero about what he would do right now. I mean, I’m just trying to succeed in what I’ve dreamt about for countless nights. Zombies. Yes, I dream of zombies. Some would say my obsession with them is unhealthy, but who’s the one that knows what he’s doing when he’s faced with a ship full of zombies?

     “So we’re going to have to take some alternative routes to our destination—”

     I give her a deathly stare and pause for a few seconds. “I was getting to that.” I shake my head. Even in a situation as dire as this, she still finds a way to get under my skin. Wow. “We’re heading for the life boats. They stock supplies on there. We can lower them into the water and radio for help.”

     There is no way this woman is my actual mother. “Yeah. Okay. So, back to what I was saying, we’re going to have to take some alternative routes to the life boats. We can just prance around the ship and run up the grand stairs. That’s where all the zombies will be and, frankly, a great way to get trapped and killed. We have to try and make it to the elevators so we can get to the 2nd deck, where the boats are. If not, well, there’s some employee stairs that shouldn’t be too cluttered. Any questions?”

     “I think we’ve got it,” Mom says. She’s actually calmed down a lot in the past few minutes that we’ve been sitting her, getting ready. Colin hasn’t really made much of a noise. It’s not like I expect him to, though. He's always been quiet and kind of weird, not much for confrontation.

     “Okay,” I say, standing up and taking Colin’s hand. “Let’s go. The employee stairwell is just a few doors down, if I remember correctly.”

     “Is it clear?” Mom asks. It’s more like a whisper, which I don’t get. It’s not like we’re hiding from Nazis or anything. It’s Zombies. I doubt it will make a difference if we whisper or talk normally. I mean, Jesus.

     Mom snatches up Colin’s arm, who is kinda jerked out of the room. She looks like she’s about to break down in tears at any second.

     Colin and Mom follow me into the stairwell. I brush off some dust and look up. It’s awkwardly quiet here. Still. Peaceful. To be completely honest, it kind of worries me. With a zombie outbreak, the last thing you’d expect is quiet.

     “All right, let’s go down the stairs. The boats are on the fifth deck. That’s only four flights of stairs. It’s gonna be easy.”

I don’t know what happened, but suddenly there is smoke everywhere. And heat. And, over the crackle of the fires on the fifth deck, the moans of the undead.

     But the smoke. It was suffocating, carried by the raging wind above the ocean. It was like walking into Hell, except there were zombies around us too.

     “Oh my God,” I wheeze, collapsing to the floor. Mom is coughing, and Colin has somehow already gotten out his video game. Wow. “This ship is going to be engulfed in flames in a matter of hours.”

     “There’s nowhere to go.”

     Redundant much? I shake my head. We’re hopeless. Even if the zombies don’t get us, the smoke and the fire will. Along with the entire ship. You know, I’ve always thought that it would be cool to die in a shipwreck. It’s honorable, prestigious. And if we do, at least the zombies the zombies will go down with us.

     Oh God. That look in her eye that she gets when she gets really ecstatic about something has appeared. This could either be a horrible idea, or a brilliant one.

     “There are radios there,” she continues. “We could radio for help, if it’s not already on the way. The military could rescue us.”

     “S*it, Ma. You’re right.”

     And she’s sprinting down the stairs when I run into her, a bent metal rod glued to her shaking hand. She comes at us so fast that I almost panic and slice her head off.

     Damn, that’s a good line.

     “Daniel. It’s great to see you.” She lowers her metal rod held above her head, ready to bash my brains in. She begins to ease up some.

     “You guess?” Her eyes flash something sinister. I think she’s trying to tell me to just give her a little acknowledgement or I’ll be feeling the wrath of every single detail of our little excursion last night into the vast unknown of touching lips being revealed to my mother. Ha.

     “Er, I… I mean—”

     “How do you know about the fire?” Mom asks.

     “Our?” I inquire. Our is plural, and that means multiple people, and that means more survivors!

     “Why did you go through the Atrium? That’s where everyone hangs out so that’s obviously gonna be where all the zombies are.”

     “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

     I’m quiet for a while, trying to think of something to say. Truth is, I can’t. I’m a Richard sometimes. Even when we’re being slowly swarmed by a sea of zombies in a sea of stairwells and dead ends in a sea of hopeless water. After a few seconds, I just decide to take the easy way out and bust open the door behind me.

     I take a step forward, but then stop in my tracks when my brain registers what I’m seeing before me.

     Well, that’s one way to put it. The roof is gone. Well, it’s not gone. But it’s fallen in, steel beams jutting out from the would-be ceiling like broken teeth. Mounds of glass and metal pile up on the floor. Streaks of red blood are painted across the mountain of death and rubble. A rapid drop of water or blood or something falls from the edge of the gouged out roof. And on the far side, a glass elevator that looks to be in relatively good condition.

     I take a deep breath.

     We’re standing above the Atrium right now, gazing out a service door with a ramp leading down it that’s camouflaged by being painted the exact same color as the wall: this God awful maroon color that makes me want to vomit. We have a panoramic view of the entire place. We can see everything. And the collapsed roof has encircled us. No one is going anywhere without going through this wasteland first.

     “How are we going to get through?” Mom asks.

     She shakes her head. “No. And I didn’t even go through here that long ago. This must be new.”

     “What are we supposed to do?” Colin asks to nobody as he studies the roof.

     She shrugs. “Jump off the side of the boat.”

     Emily doesn’t say anything back. I think I hurt her feelings. To be honest, I don’t care. We’re cornered right now. Feelings are the last thing on my mind. And it’s quiet for a few moments. To contemplate our deaths, I guess.

But then, out of the blue, Mom says, “I’m going to make a run for it.”

     “What? No, Mom… no. You can’t just give yourself up—”

     Ish. I want to cry, but I can’t. Instead, I drop my axe and it clatters to the ground and I hug her. I hug her so tight. I wish I could just hug her forever because, honestly, she’s all Colin and I have left.

     “I will,” I answer, pulling away.

     Mom looks back at us for a last time as she plunges into the war zone of limping zombies and rubble. They start to pay attention to her, staggering away from us. She climbs over a broken metal beam and disappears down a set of stairs, into the movie theater. I feel like curling up into a ball and crying the day away, because I DON’T HAVE A FUDGING MOTHER ANYMORE, but I decide that doing such a thing won’t be very productive and wouldn’t exactly be the outcome that Mom would’ve hoped for when she sacrificed her life to just give us a chance to survive.

     Thousands of miniscule shards of glass slice through my pants, cutting up my ankles until they’re bleeding and raw. Every step brings with it blinding pain. But I’m not stopping here. Fudge no. Not after what Mom did.

     Before I even realize it, we find ourselves staring at the elevator that rises up and down the ship. All of the zombies seem to have disappeared. They’re probably swarming Mom right now. They’re eating—

     Emily presses the up button.

     “Get in,” I tell Colin, kinda shoving him through the doors. I feel like a Richard the second I do it.

     “Sorry,” I answer, mashing in the 14 button with my fist. The doors close just as the first few zombies stumble up the stairs. I want to be angry at them, but I can’t. They’re just ill. They don’t know what they’re doing. If anything, I’m angry at Mom. Or myself. We could’ve gotten through that alive.

     Damn.

     But no such a thing comes today.

     “Oh my God,” I say, my stomach dropped down to my ankles. We’re dead. There’s absolutely nothing that can stop them we’re just… dead. I look up, past the endless hordes of zombies, and see the bridge up a set of stairs, situated at the highest point on the ship. And people in there. Yes.

     Through the cracked and faintly tinted glass, I can make out the silhouettes of people walking about. A couple dozen people. Walking around, interacting. With fluidity and motion.

     But she doesn’t. She just stands there. Her eyes have fudging glazed over. No. God. NO! Not now! Don’t lose it now! The zombies are slowly turning our direction, and the first ones are just feet from us. Colin starts to cry because that’s about the only thing there is to do when you’re about to be torn to bits by a horrifyingly large amount of zombies.

     We will never escape this ship. In a few hours or maybe a few days or maybe even in a week or two, it will sink. And we’ll sink with it. We’ll sink down to the depths, ghosts forever trapped to this goddamned piece of scrap.

     I start to cry. I hug Colin close, and I feel his heart beating fast. Is this how the victims of genocide feel? Being led to a black van, to a gas chamber, to an open field?

     I want to say that at this point Emily screams, and so do I, and so does Colin. I want to say that I feel their hands around my neck as the sink their teeth into my face and everything goes to sleep as I become one with the ship, one with life, one with the zombies pulling me into Hell. I want to say this because, honestly, I kind of wish that we had died right there. In that elevator.

     No, instead there’s a long, seemingly endless roar of automatic gunfire from beyond the pools. Yeah, that’s right. Gunfire.

     The zombie that was so close to me I could feel its breath on my neck moans in agony and explodes. Bits of flesh splatters onto my shirt. Dammit. That’s two shirts today.

     “Come on!” I shout over the roar of the gunfire. Emily nods and leads the way, sandwiching Colin between us. We break out into a crazed sprint from the elevator. It’s fifty yards to the bridge. The guys with the guns are covering us well, but there are so many of them. So many zombies.

     The little gap between the zombies is closing fast. Emily will make it through pretty easily, and so will Colin. But it’s going to be tight for me. My legs kick into overdrive, refusing to slow down as we dash across the shallow end of the pool. Bloody water soaks my clothes and my skin. But I don’t care. That’s secondary at this point.

     We step out of the pool. We only have about, oh, ten yards to go before we reach the stairs. But the zombies are closing in, and closing in fast. I suddenly realize that I won’t make it without getting bitten.

I raise my axe up high into the air.

I had forgotten that I had picked it back up in the Atrium.

     But I don’t slow down. It’s like Braveheart or something. I make this crazy sound and I bring the axe down on the zombie’s skull. It hits the deck instantaneously, and I prance up the stairs and get pushed into the bridge by one of the gunmen as the other slams the door closed behind me.

________________

Four

I push myself up onto all fours and the roll over onto my back. Ish. That guy pushed me too hard. I think I may have broken something. My wrist, maybe.

     “I gotta say, ma’am, I didn’t think y’all would make it through at first. That was very impressive,” says one of the armed men. He has a Southern accent so thick it makes me cringe some when I first hear his voice. This is a cruise ship, sir, not a half-sunken dingy in the middle of an alligator-infested bayou.

     “Impressive things happen when a zombie outbreak occurs,” she replies.

     Forcing myself up onto my feet I say to the men with the assault rifles slung over their shoulders, “Thanks. For helping us get through the zombies.”

     Oh. That’s nice. “Well, thank you.”

     Colin sort of sits down in a corner and pulls out his PSP. Jesus. Not five minutes ago was he about to get swarmed by hundreds of zombies, and now he’s gaming. I swear, that kid…

     The captain walks forward, a young Italian guy probably no older than 25 with sleek black hair and this suit splashed with dots of blood. He looks like a Jackson Pollock painting. I’m sure he owns a couple Pollock’s himself: he’s the son of the CEO of the cruise company, after all. The black guy takes a step back into the ring of survivors that has congregated to ogle

     I shake his hand. “I’m Daniel, this is my brother Colin, and the girl is Emily. Emily and I are just friends. We grouped up this morning at an employee stairwell. Emily lost her parents, and Colin and I lost our mother in the Atrium.” I suddenly feel a sick pang of weightless mourning in the pits of my stomach. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the reality of the situation is sinking in. Everyone is dead. I mean, Jesus. What will my Dad read in the papers? An engine explosion that caused everyone to die? Or will someone catch wind of what actually happened—that zombies took over?

     “My condolences. We’ve all lost someone today.”

     “Hey,” I say, trying to fight back my disgust and urge to gag. “What can you expect in a zombie apocalypse? It hurts, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. They’d want us to be strong, you know?” That’s so untrue, though. All lies. It works in theory, but not in practice. Once the dust settles, the guilt you feel for allowing a loved one to die is paralyzing.

     No, instead, we’re trapped in this room. And the more I look around, the more I watch these people do absolutely nothing but sit around and sing campfire songs, the more I think that maybe we were better off out there. Just running around. It’s premature, I know, but this is my first impression.

     I look over at Emily. She’s busy staring out the window. Dang, she is moody. One second she’s spazzing out and doing some childish victory dance, and the next she is immersed in the hopelessness of being confined in a relatively small room surrounded on all sides by hundreds upon hundreds of zombies.

     “All right. Amanda, offer Emily and Colin some water.”

     I can’t decide if Emily is really badass, or really hopeless. After debating this thought for a few seconds, I come to the conclusion that we would’ve been better off without her. What she’s done isn’t exactly tough or anything—it’s more like a normal human reaction to the undead. Fight or flight. I think she’s better at flying than fighting, so… yeah.

     “At 0948 hours, we sent out a distress signal and told them about our situation. A United States carrier, the USS Ronald Reagan, was dispatched shortly thereafter to our general location, but since we have lost GPS positioning, we have no idea as to what our exact coordinates are. It could take days for help to arrive.”

     They still haven’t left me a day later. And I think that’s the worst part of this entire thing. The moans. Unescapable. You could, I guess, escape the zombies. But not their sounds. Those stay with you forever.

     “No, it’s not.”

     “Perhaps even a week. If we make it that far.”

     He sort of tenses up. “Well… there’s a system. Hurricane Charlotte. We don’t know the exact path it will take, but it may hit us. This ship is designed to be able to survive winds of up to 95 miles per hour, but out here, on the open seas, and the ship being torn to bits by the, whatever you called them, zombies, well, it may do some damage.”

     “Unfortunately, yes,” he says bluntly. Like he doesn’t care. Like he still thinks that, for some reason, it’s normal. That my sole concern is whether I’ll make out with Emily again.

     He shifts his weight uncomfortably. I think we both know where this is going. “Well, yes, but I thought we were going to be able to move—”

     “Please, Daniel.”

     “All right. So, like I was saying, we’re not able to move because the engines are overheating. We’ve cut down output to zero percent, but in order for them to be shut off completely, and emergency shutdown lever must be pulled. In the engine room.”

     “It’s suicide. Plus, there’s the fire.”

     The captain shrugs. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS KIND OF STUFF, DUDE. “It could be a couple hours, or a day. Or it may not hit us at all. Since we lost our Doppler radar, we’ve had to revert to forecasting tactics that haven’t been used in 50 years.”

     “Um, excuse me?”

     That’s what I am. That’s what Colin is.

     And that’s about it. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past day. Just sitting here—watching the sunset and the clouds lazily drift by, getting mad at Emily, chilling with Colin. Every speck of condensed water vapor I see makes me jump to conclusions. The suspense is killing me.

     By the time I ‘wake up’, the sky has started to turn orange as the sun creeps closer and closer to the horizon.

     “What’s that?” he asks.

     There’s a low buzz of the mumbles of worried survivors. “What’s going on?” “What’s happening?” I do a slight facepalm. Like the crew is going to tell us anything.

     “Have any idea what’s going on?” I ask Emily.

     “No,” I say. “I don’t.”

     Some muted gasps from the audience. I shake my head. Well, I had a good run. There’s no getting out of this one.

     I give Emily a look. She returns the favor. We both realize how incredibly preposterous this sounds. How the stars must align in precisely the right manner, so the flames can be extinguished, so the ship won’t be engulfed in the hurricane, so the zombies won’t snatch the brave men that risk their lives to save our sorry asses in their foaming mouths.

     “I know.” She smiles crookedly. For a couple seconds, I feel a wave of this unmistakable attraction to her. Well, attraction is too scientific, too animalistic. But it’s not love either. I think it might be appreciation. But with a romantic finisher. I dunno. This is getting weird.

     She kind of shifts her weight on her feet like cute girls do. She has on new jeans that belonged to some woman’s daughter. I think she came up here infected. They threw her out to the zombies when they found the bite. At least, that’s what I heard from the whispers of the survivors.

     I take her hand in mine. This is not happening. “I thought you were just another chick, Emily. But the way you came down those stairs with that bloody metal rod, and you told me that you lost your family and that you just kept going, well, that showed me just how incredibly brave and strong you are.”

     I take a step closer to her. “Then don’t. It’s hurting you more to keep it in than it will do let it out,” I tell her. The first tears are starting to come out, and she’s shaking her head at me. I bring her into my arms and we stay there for a while.

     I hold her for a while, not knowing what to say. “You made a mistake—”

     I take a deep breath. “They wouldn’t do that, Emily.”

     “Because my dad is one. And I know them damn well. They value human life. Though it may not seem like it, soldiers aren’t these dumb, square-headed Neanderthals. They have morals. And we’re the center of their morals. They wouldn’t hurt us. Ever.”

     “Those are a lot of maybe’s.”

     I touch her arm. She doesn’t pull away or back off or anything. My hand slides down her arm and then I’m holding her hands. She looks up at me, eyes gleaming with tears. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You made a mistake, okay. But we’ve all lost things, Emily. We all have. We’ve all had to do things we regret. But we have to keep going. We have to think positive. We have to find something to live for.”

     “You do. You have yourself. Your friends. Me. My brother.”

     “I know you well enough to know that you’re strong. You’re stronger than I’ll ever be. If I lost my brother too, I would go out there, lay down, and wait to be consumed. But you? You kept on going. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling right now. It must be indescribable. But you keep on going. You refuse to let them take you down. Because you’re stronger than this entire situation. You’re stronger than everyone on this ship.”

     “You’re not going to die.”

     But no.

     That would suck.

     The bulletproof windows creak under the immense pressure of the wind outside. The image of the glass shattering, letting in both the elements and thousands of famished undead in, becomes painted in my mind. I wonder what would get us first: the zombies, or the storm?

     There’s a huge rock of the ship as a humongous wave slams into the port. Emily and Colin both awake at the same time. Immediately, there are tears as Colin scurries over to me. I take him into my arms and he buries his head in my chest, crying his little eyes out. I take Emily’s hand. She’s still, calm. Expecting to be dead by the night this is over. I look into her eyes, and I realize then that whatever I felt, romantically, at least, towards her is not true. A caught in the moment thing. And she knows it too. And we’re cool with that. We’re cool with dying like that.

     I force myself back up. Lightning strikes one of the exhaust pipes atop the ship, a blinding flash and a deafening roar. My ears ring and I close my eyes, keeping them shut for as long as I can. I feel Emily’s hands sweat in mine, and Colin’s tears soak my shirt. I feel the ship rocking back and forth, a city on the sea slowly being consumed by the endless world of water that is forever threatening to end our lives. My life.

     The fish are not biting today. They usually do. This is our pond—our secret pond, hidden in an undeveloped patch of forest miles from the city. They always bite. Always. Well, almost always.

     “Daniel,” he says again. I set down my rod, leaving the bail open. Clouds drift in front of the sun, casting a long shadow over the pond.

     But I don’t.

     “I’m going back to Afghanistan next month. For a year this time.” I exhale, balling my fingers up into fists. “It’s to serve my country, Daniel. Our country. To make it safe. So you, your brother, and your mother can be safe.”

     “Huh?”

     I can see the hurt on his face. People always said I looked like him. “Daniel, you know that’s not true. I don’t leave you…”

     “That’s just not true, Daniel. You don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m going to Afghanistan—”

     I turn away and ran into his truck. That was the last time I so much as looked at him. I didn’t speak to him at dinner, when he offered to take me fishing, and I sure as hell didn’t speak to him Mom and Colin whisked him off at the airport. Actually, I think I stayed in the car for that one.

When I come out of my dream thing, the storm has passed. Chairs are flipped over, the glass is cracked in some places, but we’re alive. The sun shyly ventures up the horizon, and we’re still freaking alive. Don’t even ask how. This ship is falling apart. It’s a miracle it lasted night.

     “Hello, everyone, yes?” De Luca announces to the group, gathering everyone’s attention. “We have some good news. Smoke detectors have detected a drop in smoke and heat levels to the point that they are capable of sustaining life. The path to the engine room should now be clear.” He smiles and raises his arms, as if he expects us to bow down to worship him or something, like the fire being extinguished is somehow his work. The gesture is met to a few muted claps. Some of the crew snickers in the back.

     I furrow my brow and count the able bodies, the bodies more able than mine. There’s only a few. Slowly hands begin to raise. Six, seven, eight. Nine. The hands stop rising at nine. I sigh. I know who’s going to be the next person to raise their hand.

     I’ve stood up and walked forward, a hop in my step. Already, the adrenaline is pumping. I don’t want to do this. I really don’t. But the idea of getting out of this room, this box, well, that’s better than sitting around and waiting for something to go wrong, for something to finally snap.

     The captain looks at me disapprovingly. “Oh, Daniel. You can’t. You’re just a boy.”

     “You can’t, Daniel.”

     “Shut up!” Emily and I both yell at the same time.

     She bites her lip and nods. “Yeah… I figured. But what about Colin? Huh? What about him? What is he going to do without a brother to help him through this?”

     The irony.

     But I have the eyes to see what I’m doing. Dad, he didn’t know. He did, but he didn’t really get it. He didn’t really get that I need him, that I need my Dad. He was institutionalized, and I do not doubt for a second that he loved—loves—me with all he’s got and he would do anything for me, but he didn’t know how to express it. How to express a father has for a son.

     Nothing except a father a million miles away and world wanting to eat him.

     Colin can’t lose me.

     mily smiles softly. “You’re making the right choice, Daniel,” she says and kisses me on the cheek. It’s more of a thank you than an action of endearment, if you will.

     “Thank you all for doing this,” Captain De Luca says, voice teetering on the edge of cracking. He’s looking them up and down, inspecting them like he’s the president or something. I’m not sure where he got the idea that he had absolute power, and him giving us—them—this motivational speech means anything to anyone here. “Everyone doing this is the embodiment of human strength that we see come out time and time again when faced with difficult situations like this. You are saving us all by doing this. We thank you all from the bottom of our hearts. Godspeed, my friends.”

     And it hits me like a freight train. No one expects them to come back. I’m the only one that has even given them a chance at survival as I weigh out the odds in my head. Looking around, I see the somber looks on all these faces. On Xavier’s, the man who killed his own son. On Amanda’s, the woman that gave Colin and Emily water. And even on Emily’s face. I can see that she’s holding back tears.

     “You’re going to be okay,” I tell her. “You will. I swear. I swear that you will be okay.”

     I laugh. Girls. “I feel your pain,” I say. But, really, I don’t. I just said it to lighten up the mood some.

     “Jesus,” Emily whispers. We’re standing close to each other, so close I can feel the warmth of her body on mine. “I’m going to die.”

     She glances up at me. “This isn’t a storm, Daniel. This is worse.”

     “Well… bye.”

     I should tell her that I love her or something. But that would be a lie. Loving someone here is impossible. You can’t love someone when you’re worried about dying.

     Then Emily is pushed from behind by one of the men, lurching forward. I stare at her shuffle through the open door, the moans louder than ever. Shots are fired. I try to look away, but I can’t. She is my only friend on this ship. Sure, there is Colin, but he’s different.

     Part of me wishes it would happen.

     However, if we weren’t being hunted by these things, constantly teetering on dead and alive, it could be different. I think I would feel something more than confusion towards her. But that’s wishful thinking.

     That’s what got my mom killed.

     Blood pools around the elevator, scarlet and shining in the sunlight. Emily pulls out her pistol and efficiently dispatches three zombies herself. She is surprisingly lethal with her weapon. It would be an understatement to say I am impressed. I don’t think I could ever shoot like that, and I’ve spent countless days on the range with my dad.

     I decide that it’s for the better if I don’t think about her. Period. I stay at the window for the rest of the day, observing the undead fall over fallen comrades. I wonder what their names were. What did they feel when they got bitten? Did it feel like death? Or was it something worse than that?

     Or maybe I’m just imagining things. I hear sometimes you do that when you’re on vacations. Tricking yourself into thinking you’ve seen someone before, but they’re really total strangers. But that’s not true. Not really. I’ve seen her before. When I killed the zombie in the hallway outside my room. When I drove that axe into his head. When I saw all those undead shamble off after Mom. I saw her in them.

     They are not living. They are organic machines. They serve no purpose except to kill. There is no reproduction, no pain, no sensations, and there sure as hell isn’t any humanity in them. What is the point of them even existing?

     God. If you’re there…

     If there is a God, he’s not going to listen to me.

     I pull myself off the window, like someone peeling a dead insect off a flyswatter. My God died as the undead rose. My God died when my mother disappeared behind the mountain of rubble. My God died when the elevator door closed shut, sealing Emily from the rest of the world. I have never been particularly religious, but I’ve always believed that a God existed somewhere, and it was a good God. But with death, comes hopelessness.

     Hatred for putting me through this Hell, when I’ve done nothing wrong. What kind of God would do this? There is nothing about undead in the Bible. The Torah. The Quran.

     Great…

     I realize that I’m crying. Shit. Hurriedly, I wipe away the tears with my sleeve and kneel down to meet his eyes. “Sorry, Colin. I was just… I…” But I can’t finish the sentence. I don’t know what to say.

Everyone is dead.

     “I get it, Daniel. I see things. I don’t like to, but I do. I know that Mom is… you know. Dead.”

     “Yeah,” he says confidently. “I am not that little kid anymore, you know. These things, they hurt you. Not just on the outside, Daniel, but on the inside. And I can see that. And I also know that if I tried to do something, I’d just hurt you too. So I don’t. I stay out of your way.”

     “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

     He hands me his PSP promptly. “My PSP has been out of batteries since we left the room. I only pretend to play it so you won’t have to worry about me.”

     “I just told you why, Daniel.”

     “That means a lot. Thanks.”

     I think about that for a while. The kid is ten. He talks like he’s fifteen. He goes to an academically gifted school. And yet, we have always called him antisocial. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve always thought of him as. But maybe that’s not true. Maybe he’s not antisocial. Maybe he’s not immature. Maybe he just chooses to be that way to stay out of the way. And I’m not just talking about this cruise ship thing. He’s always been like this; he’s always been immersed in his games and such when he’s at home. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that, with Dad gone, he just does it to make it easier on me and… Mom.

     No.

     I begin to tell him that he’s wrong, that I couldn’t do the same if I were in his shoes, but he’s already returned to his PSP.

     Radio chatter has picked up recently. Even as I zone out with my back to the window, hopeless and quiet like so many other survivors up here, I can faintly make out the conversations between the Ronald Reagan and the Magnificence of the Seas.

     All those people gone… Is this what we have come to? Looking at the ultimate sacrifice Emily and all the others have made as a plus because we have more water?

     “Very good. …Close… triangulating the radio signal. But we cannot approach until the engine… taken care of. The blast would…one-mile radius. Predator drones loaded for bear are awaiting take off. Ship…scrapped…survivors evacuated.”

     I look around and notice the worried looks on all the other survivors’ faces. They heard it too. They know that, when that missile hits the ship, everything they once were will go down with it. Their lives. Their relationships. Their belongings. Their… their psyches.

     “Captain,” I hear another crewmember tell Captain De Luca as I shift my focus away from the disturbing radio chatter. “It has been over four hours. Night is coming. Do you think…?”

     Dinner is served—a bag of pretzels and some beef jerky—and soon, the sun begins to set. But it’s not beautiful like I’ve seen it in the past. The sky has grown hazy with smoke and gases from God-knows-what. What could be beautiful in times such as these, anyways? With Emily gone, Mom gone, the engines still threatening to explode, and a whole bunch of zombies with only one goal in mind: killing everything.

     If Emily and the others have survived this far, they will not make it through the night.

_______

Eight

It’s the lack of a constant alarm, not unlike the moans of the undead and yes, the incessant vuvuzelas of the 2010 World Cup, that tips me off to the fact that the 10 badasses have succeeded. Curious, I stand up and stroll towards the crew. Captain De Luca is whispering to the co-captain (first mate? I don’t know ship titles…) when he notices me walking up to him.

     De Luca nods. “Yes. They have done their jobs well. For the time being, we are safe. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

     He shrugs and turns away, staring out the front window into the night. “They helped save my ship. And they saved all of us. When I get back and achieve fame for this, I will be sure to mention them. That my survival would not be possible without them.”

     It was only a matter of time before it came out.

     “You sick fuck,” I mutter.

     My fingers ball up into fists. “I said,” I growl. “You’re a sick fuck. How can you think about your fucking ship and your fame and fortune when everyone around you is DYING?”

     “Listen, kid—”

     “That’s what you get, you prick! You selfish bastard! You’re no better than those things outside!”

     “Shut UP!” he groans, applying a towel to his nose. “How dare you disgrace me so much on my ship, pig.”

     The captain stands up, shaking off the crewmembers trying to help him. I try to meet him, but I realize that they’ve handcuffed me to the leg of a table. Great. The handcuffs rattle like bells as I try to escape them, but to no avail.

     Flashes of red spark before my eyes. “Do not call Colin that.”

     He lifts his foot and kicks me. Straight in the gut. It feels like an anvil being dropped on my stomach.

     I hack a bloody loogie onto the carpet. “You sick fuck.”

     “Okay, okay,” I mumble, fading into unconsciousness. “I get it, man.”

     The guy is like, only 10 years older than me. I’m 16. I’m not even a kid. 16 year olds go to war sometimes. “You’re… you’re not my father. You’re a kid that’s been given everything he’s ever wanted and you never questioned it. And now that something goes wrong, look at you. You cracked, man. You’re done. And you shouldn’t be in charge of this fucking piece of scrap.”

     They just watch because they’re scared.

     And this is what separates us from them. Selfishness. Fear. That is our humanity. Not love. But not saying anything—not stopping this—when this guy is beating me half to death. That is who we are. And that is who we will ever be.

     The captain takes a knee so we are at eye level. “You really don’t learn, do you?”

     “You know, Daniel, normal people don’t act like this. What if… what if you’re infected? What if you’ve caught the disease? Maybe you’re putting us in danger by being with us.”

     “You can’t do that,” I answer quietly, so quiet only he can hear it, and look away.

     I chuckle once, my gut burning with every breath. “If that’s what we have come to, then I’d rather take my chances out there.”

     And when they start dragging me to the door, I know what’s going to happen.

     For not surviving.

     And to think, it wasn’t the zombies, but the crazy captain of this ship that was my downfall.

     “Please. Don’t do this.”

     “Do it,” De Luca says, coldly.

     One of them reaches for the doorknob, and that is when I see the blur of blond hair and a blood stained Kingdom Hearts shirt from out of the corner of my eye. A few seconds and a lot of pressure points exploited later, both men are brought to their knees, moaning and wondering what the hell just happened. Without anything to support me, I immediately collapse, the pain in my gut too much to bear. Everyone gasps, stunned at the shit that has gone down. But I’m not. I mean, he has had four years of jiu-jitsu, after all.

     “Glad Mom made me,” he answers, patting me on the back as I struggle to stand back up and face the awestruck Captain De Luca.

     “He kicked their asses, that’s what,” I moan, still unable to stand up straight. But I manage to give Colin a well-earned fist bump.

     “An antisocial kid,” Colin corrects. I can’t help but to crack up at that.

     The Captain, stonefaced, produces a gun. A pistol. A pistol that one would think would only be used as a tool for slaying the undead, not living, breathing people. And yet, here we are. A 25 year old man with a Glock pointed at a 16 year old.

     I squeeze Colin’s hand. I am not scared or panicked or crying anymore. I have met my match. At least my death will be unique on this Godforsaken ship. I will be the only one that’s been murdered.

     “You’re all I’ve got left, Daniel.”

     The Captain considers, and eventually nods. One of the crewmembers gives him a couple of AAA’s.

     I stare down the barrel, ready for it. Ready for that bullet. Ready to die.

     “Goodbye, Daniel—”

     De Luca and I share a tense stare as we are brought back to reality. To society. To our humanity, and away from the inner animal. I can see him debating on whether or not he should shoot me dead. Like a wounded dog.

     Safe from that psycho captain.

     That night, I dream of going home.

Want to read the rest? Click here:

viewtopic.php?f=14&t=18002&p=225216#p225216

[JakeDuck]

Wow, this is REALLY good. Your use of language and the way the character thinks really shows a lot about him already. I can see where the story could go on from here in my head, as if I feel that I'm writing my own story in my head. Keep up the good work man, this is great!

[MyLittleHellhound]

Hey, erm, I also write you can check out my stories Heart of the Mountain and specially Stadt der Untoten, but um yours is actually very proffesional man. I suggest that you keep on going because I wanna read the rest of this! Zombies on a cruise ship- very original........... :D

[piepwns]

Nice job, man. You get [brains]

[perfectlemonade]

Uploaded chapter two! Sorry I didn't update last week, I was in San Diego. And sorry this chapter is kinda boring, but just wait until the next one. Crazy shit is going down.

[perfectlemonade]

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo MY COMPUTER CRASHED! I LOST EVERYTHING! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I ONLY HAD MY NOVEL AND MY COLLECTION OF POEMS SAVED EXTERNALLY!!!!!!!! NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Guys, I'm so sorry, but I lost Sinking. I was writing the rest of it so I could post it all at once and I'd stop feeling obligated to put out subpar work for yall every week, but it's all gone now. I'll try to rewrite it sometime down the road, but I'm not making any promises and I'm really, really busy as well. No!!!!!! I'm so upset! These stories are my life! All gone down the drain! SHIT!

RAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!! I HATE TECHNOLOGY SO MUCH!!!!!!

[ContriteBore554]

Good story, crash sucks :/

It makes me want to write some of it myself...

[Der atzi]

Wow.... Amazing, I'm trying to write a novel in my spare time too, I already have the idea I just don't have the focusness to sit down and write it.....and every time I comeback to it I see what I actualy have written is junk and I rewrite it.....sigh......when will my suffering end! But don't worry, my book has nothing to do with zombies until the second book, and it has absolutely nothing to do with a cruise ship..... But this stuff is gold man.....compleat gold! I highly encourage, and support you. And dude sorry to hear of your computer crashing, I hate technology..... :(

[perfectlemonade]

Wow.... Amazing, I'm trying to write a novel in my spare time too, I already have the idea I just don't have the focusness to sit down and write it.....and every time I comeback to it I see what I actualy have written is junk and I rewrite it.....sigh......when will my suffering end! But don't worry, my book has nothing to do with zombies until the second book, and it has absolutely nothing to do with a cruise ship..... But this stuff is gold man.....compleat gold! I highly encourage, and support you. And dude sorry to hear of your computer crashing, I hate technology.....

Thanks man!

No one is gonna get a novel perfect the 1st time or the 50th time. Sinking is far from 'perfect'. Just don't worry about how your stuff is during the first, second, or even third drafts! Everyone's first draft is complete crap, mine included! Ask any writer out there, and they'll say that their final draft doesn't even remotely resemble the first draft. The difference between a so-so writer and a gifted writer is how much they're willing to edit their stuff. You should post some of your work!

That being said, I've actually tried rewriting some of this, and I got an additional chapter finished, but a) I just don't feel the inspiration I did before the crash and I feel like the characters have totally changed personalities. So Ima try and edit it some this weekend, then maybe post it here.

Keep on writing!

-perfect

[MyLittleHellhound]

I liked tpyiur third chapter and also your overall style of writing!

[perfectlemonade]

Guys, you know there is another chapter up, right? :D

[MyLittleHellhound]

Yep! Very good chapter indeed!

[JakeDuck]

Do you think you could change the font back to default or increase the size? Even on a 22 inch monitor it is pretty small.

[SizMatics]

I have read chapter 1 so far and....OMG...I Favorited this page after that....I will read more tomorrow....

Thank you for providing this wonderful entertainment! Keep writing!

[perfectlemonade]

Do you think you could change the font back to default or increase the size? Even on a 22 inch monitor it is pretty small.

Of course, kind sir! Had some writer's block as of late, but I'm trying to finish. I just keep thinking back to when I had it all done, and then my computer crashing. Disheartening. That's the only word I can describe my situation with.

And thank you sooo much sizmatics! I really appreciate it. :3

[perfectlemonade]

New chapter is UP! Can't figure out the BBCode, if someone more familiarized with this kind of stuff that would be great. I'm trying to make the chapter font be 150, but the actual body stuff be 115 (tehehe).

So yeah. That would be cool if someone helped me out with that. I've finished my big novel, so I'm gonna try working on this some more! Thanks for reading!

-perfect

[piepwns]

Found a typo, Daniel asked Emily what was going on, then Emily shrugged, then you wrote Daniel answering himself... Either I didn't understand that correctly or it's a typo.

[MyLittleHellhound]

New chapter is UP! Can't figure out the BBCode, if someone more familiarized with this kind of stuff that would be great. I'm trying to make the chapter font be 150, but the actual body stuff be 115 (tehehe).

So yeah. That would be cool if someone helped me out with that. I've finished my big novel, so I'm gonna try working on this some more! Thanks for reading!

-perfect

This is one of the best stories I've read to date!

Keep up with writing in general man, your good at the stuff.

[perfectlemonade]

New chapter is up. One of my favorites so far.

[MyLittleHellhound]

That scene in the last chapter with De Luca, just ah-mazing. Great job! ;)

[MexicanIlluminati]

Hey PerfectLemonade, I got a deal for you. I'll critique your novel if you critique mine. Look at Z: A Nazi Zombies Novel Chap. 1 and 2 (in this same forum).

I have only read up to chapter one so far so this is my critique on the opening thus far.

Positive Feedback

This is a very professionally written novel. I find the setting very interesting: a cruise ship, which presents the very sort of trapped feeling that is so dreaded in a Zombie apocalypse. The detail in which you describe your events is top-notch. Great description of Zombie gore.

Negative Feedback

My main issue is with the main character. He seems to flash back and forth between adult-like thought processes, and child-like thought processes. For instance, he is an adult in that he can take charge when the situation requires it, yet he still uses phrases like "freaking" and "freakout mode". This is espescially disorienting in times of action, when he is required to do something heroic and potentially dangerous: when he is saying "freaking" it makes the narration seem almost comical and takes away the urgency of the situation. I also feel this same effect when he starts talking to the Zombie. I can tell you're trying to go for a coming-of-age type scenario with this kid right? Well i'm all for that, but try to make his childish side a LITTLE less prevalent in his way of thinking. At the same time though, try to keep from making him super human. Like after he takes out all the Zombies and he's with his family, he seems a bit too calm. I think it would develop the character better if he had a process of contemplating what he has just done, rather than just having him throw up.

Other than that, GREAT story. Easily the best I've seen on this site. Sorry if the negative feedback was a little brutal but it IS negative feedback that makes the book right? Feel free to do the same on mine!

Great work man keep it up! [brains]

[perfectlemonade]

Hey PerfectLemonade, I got a deal for you. I'll critique your novel if you critique mine. Look at Z: A Nazi Zombies Novel Chap. 1 and 2 (in this same forum).

I have only read up to chapter one so far so this is my critique on the opening thus far.

Positive Feedback

This is a very professionally written novel. I find the setting very interesting: a cruise ship, which presents the very sort of trapped feeling that is so dreaded in a Zombie apocalypse. The detail in which you describe your events is top-notch. Great description of Zombie gore.

Negative Feedback

My main issue is with the main character. He seems to flash back and forth between adult-like thought processes, and child-like thought processes. For instance, he is an adult in that he can take charge when the situation requires it, yet he still uses phrases like "freaking" and "freakout mode". This is espescially disorienting in times of action, when he is required to do something heroic and potentially dangerous: when he is saying "freaking" it makes the narration seem almost comical and takes away the urgency of the situation. I also feel this same effect when he starts talking to the Zombie. I can tell you're trying to go for a coming-of-age type scenario with this kid right? Well i'm all for that, but try to make his childish side a LITTLE less prevalent in his way of thinking. At the same time though, try to keep from making him super human. Like after he takes out all the Zombies and he's with his family, he seems a bit too calm. I think it would develop the character better if he had a process of contemplating what he has just done, rather than just having him throw up.

Other than that, GREAT story. Easily the best I've seen on this site. Sorry if the negative feedback was a little brutal but it IS negative feedback that makes the book right? Feel free to do the same on mine!

Great work man keep it up! [brains]

Thank you man! This is exactly what I've been looking for! I will gladly look over your story for you!

As for Daniel being too comical in a serious situation, well, I think I like that about him. He (I) likes to give comic relief. Plus, I have trouble writing really serious characters. They bore me.

Also, and I'm not sure if I forgot to put this in (this is the first draft; everything will be tons better once I look it over and make it all nice and shiny), but Daniel has always had a thing for zombies. He's prepared for this. And yes, while he is obviously kind of nervous about a zombie outbreak on a cruise ship, he knows precisely what to do because he's prepared for this.

But alas, I have definitely taken this advice to heart and will be implementing this on the final draft.

Thank you again! This is awesome feedback!

[MexicanIlluminati]

Haha cool. Glad you took that well. I was a little afraid you'd just get offended now get out there and DEMOLISH mine :lol:

[perfectlemonade]

Haha cool. Glad you took that well. I was a little afraid you'd just get offended now get out there and DEMOLISH mine

Trust me, I've heard WAY worse. That was actually kinda tame!

Sorry it took me so long to get around to yours, but it's been a busy last couple days. Just now getting to it tonight. :p

[piepwns]

I don't know about Daniel, but personally the part about having a Dad in the Military that pisses me off the most is having to leave all my friends and my entire life behind every 2-3 years. Most people just don't get how much it sucks to have to leave all that work behind, all that time making friends and climbing toward the top of the social totem pole, all for nothing. It just makes me feel like suck a douche having to leave my friends behind, like all I did was use them for entertainment for a few years, then tossed them away like a three-year-old who got bored with a toy. But I'm getting off-topic, I loved the new chapters and can't wait for the rest! Nice writing, man, keep it up.