I Saw Nothing

Here's another one I wrote a while ago. Enjoy . Comments and criticism appreciated.


Laden with ice and swaying in the bitter Alaskan wind the pines crackled in an eerie orchestra that could be mistaken for the thrashing and snapping of a wild animal's jaws.

Did that make them the prey or predator?

He didn't intend to find out. Grant held the M-16 close, ready for use as he led his team deeper into the snow-blanketed forest. In and out, rein und rause, as the German had said back at the camp when he handed him the twenty grand. That wasn't what was happening.

Each step farther into the forest was another they would have to take on their way home. Assuming they found what they were looking for in the first place. Whatever it was.

Trudging deep in the snow, Covert-Ops Specialist Smith caught up with Grant as if he had something urgent to say.

“Dan's lagging behind.” Grant stopped with authority that stopped the three others in their tracks. He looked to see Heavy Weapons Specialist Dan about ten feet behind the group, out of breath, before turning back to face the impatient Smith. As if they weren't all anxious.

“Then carry half his things.” His eyes widened, as if he had just been ordered to retrace his steps back to camp.

“But, sir...”

“You complain, you work.” We're always at work, Smith thought. Grant watched as Dan gave Smith a nod of understanding, and handed him one of the three 50lb packs of weaponry that burdened him with each step. Scott watched the event unfold with humor.

“You had to complain, didn't you?” Smith threw the pack on impatiently.

“Shut it, medic.” Medic Scott smiled, double checking that the safety was off on his Thompson.

“I'll remember that, when you're dying, begging for help.”

“Save it. We all have jobs.”

“And I'll do mine,” he countered. “A quick shot in the head and you won't feel anymore pain.” Smith ignored the remark, stopped next to Grant. He didn't dare step ahead.

“Ready when you are.” Grant nodded, used to the arguing in this group.

“Alright. Keep an eye out. You all might be dead by nightfall at this rate.” He frowned disapprovingly at them before continuing his walk.

Smith looked to the swaying treetops above, as if it was the source of the blistering wind.

“Are you going to tell us what we're looking for yet?” Grant shook his head.

“You'll know when you see it.” Smith sighed.

“I hate this place.” A snowball collided with Smith's side, startling him. The tension eased as Scott broke into laughter, wiping the snow from his gloves.

“We all do, lighten up.” Dan walked between them, ducking to avoid a branch.

“Smith just gets cranky without his daily dose of beer and woman.”

“No,” he objected. “I have whiskey with me. Helps against the cold.” Dan smiled, looking to the metallic flask that hung from Smith's waist.

“Holding out on us, eh, Smith?” He tossed Dan the bottle, who caught it with surprising nimbleness.

“Help yourself.”

“Thanks, man.” Dan put the M-16 under his right shoulder and took a gracious sip with the free hand before tossing it to Scott, who repeated he maneuver. In the silence Scott tossed the small flask back to its owner. With a defining howl Smith was thrown to the ground, the bottle hit the snow, and his gun landed off to the side. Dumbfounded, the three stared down at him. His motionless face showed shock.

“What the fuck was that?” Eyes tired with experience, Grant looked up from the motionless body to Dan.

“It's coming.” Confused, he looked for an escape. Any escape.

“What's coming? I – I didn't even feel the air move!” Scott resentfully touched two fingers to Smith's neck, and then stood suddenly.

“He's gone.”

“Holy fuck, man! The wind just killed Smith!” Maybe twenty-grand wasn't enough, Grant thought bitterly.

“Calm down.” Dan stared at Grant with disbelief.

“Calm down? Did you just see what happened?” He nodded solemnly.

“Yes,” he let the sentence hang on the word for a moment. “Did you? I saw the wind. He was already weak.” Dan shook his head in denial.

“No. He was fine.”

“Let this be a warning. Turn back now.” The three of them looked to each-other to see who had said the words, and then down at the man in the snow.

“Did you?” Dan asked. Scott shook his head. Grant seemed slightly jolted, but kept his calm. “Because, I know a dead man didn't just talk to us.” He kicked the bottom of Smith's boot. “Very funny, Smith. Get up. We know your cov-op tricks.” He continued to lay motionless, unresponsive. Dan looked to Scott for support.

“Check his pulse again.” Scott shook his head.

“I did. He's dead, man.”

“Check it.” Scott looked regretfully at the body.

“I did,” he repeated. Shaking, Dan aimed the assault rifle at Scott's chest. He threw up his hands in defense, startled by the sudden betrayal.

“Check it again, then.” Scott motioned for him to put the gun down, and so he did. Slowly, the knelt to the freezing body and touched the cold skin with two fingers, waiting to feel the slightest movement of blood. After he was sure, he stood, looked Dan in the eyes, and walked past him as he grumbled, “The wind doesn't do that”.

Grant turned and began his walk. Dan looked horrified.

“We're just going to leave him?”

“He's dead.” Dan looked around in worry.

“I know you know what just happened.”

“I saw nothing.” He was used to using the phrase.

“You said you saw the wind.” Grant shook his head, never removing his focus from what lay ahead.

“I saw nothing,” he repeated with urgency. Dan turned to Scott for support. He wasn't in sight. Where'd he go?

“Where's Scott?” Grant stopped and turned.

“I don't know. Did he say anything?” Dan scanned the scenery for his friend.

“Maybe he's taking a piss.” He cuffed his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Scott! You out there?” All was silent except for the slow cracking and snapping of the trees, and the slow howling of the wind. A loud, deadly scream of agony was all that returned. Dan swiveled in search of the source of the sound. “What in the hell was that?”

“He's gone,” replied Grant. “Come, hurry.”

“We can't just leave him! He was just here, he can't be far—” Grant grasp Dan by the collar, pulling him close so the steam from his breath engulfed the man's face.

“The man's gone. We're next, if you don't shut up.”

“Scott!” He shouted again. He felt tears come to his eyes for his life-long friend. “Oh, Scott...”

It was then that they both felt it, the slow but deadly Alaskan wind was it passed through them, first through their gloved hands that wielded their weapons. But, that was all that was needed. Chills ran down their spines, and through their inescapable fear they heard it. The howl of the bitter descending wind as it rushed for them.

condirant wrote:Laden with ice and swaying in the bitter Alaskan wind the pines crackled in an eerie orchestra that could be mistaken for the thrashing and snapping of a wild animal's jaws.

Did that make them the prey or predator?

He didn't intend to find out. Grant held the M-16 close, ready for use as he led his team deeper into the snow-blanketed forest. In and out, rein und rause, as the German had said back at the camp when he handed him the twenty grand. That wasn't what was happening.

You should describe your characters before any action takes place. In short stories (or just about any other type of story for that matter) you want to give as much information as possible as soon as possible. Your readers should have such a clear understanding of what's going on that by the time the first important bit of action takes place that they could practically finish the story themselves.

“But, sir...”

“You complain, you work.” We're always at work, Smith thought. Grant watched as Dan gave Smith a nod of understanding, and handed him one of the three 50lb packs of weaponry that burdened him with each step. Scott watched the event unfold with humor.

“You had to complain, didn't you?” Smith threw the pack on impatiently.

“Shut it, medic.” Medic Scott smiled, double checking that the safety was off on his Thompson.

“I'll remember that, when you're dying, begging for help.”

“Save it. We all have jobs.”

“And I'll do mine,” he countered. “A quick shot in the head and you won't feel anymore pain.” Smith ignored the remark, stopped next to Grant. He didn't dare step ahead.

“Ready when you are.” Grant nodded, used to the arguing in this group.

“Alright. Keep an eye out. You all might be dead by nightfall at this rate.” He frowned disapprovingly at them before continuing his walk.

Wow that's a lot of dialogue. As a reader I'm having a tough time remembering who's saying what. In fiction writing a line of quotes followed by more quotes (and often no quote tags) we call that a "talking head" and it's generally seen as a bad thing.

One way around this problem is to remember that not all dialogue needs to be in quotes. Summary dialogue for example is the narrator giving us the gist of what a character is saying.
Here's an example: Ruth told her brother to pick up his toys.

There's also indirect dialogue which is basically a step removed from direct quotes in that we get a clearer idea of the character's voice and language.
Here's another example: Ruth told her brother to pick up his stupid toys, she told him that she was tired of him always leaving the playroom in such a god forsaken mess.

You can also use something called mixed dialogue which combines either two or three types: Jacob told Ruth that that he'd pick them up later, he told his older sister that he was tired of her always bossing him around, "and your breath stinks too."

Whatever form you use keep in mind that the primary purpose of dialogue is to reveal character. This can be said about any sentence you include in a written work, it must either reveal character of move the story forward. If a sentence or a piece of dialogue doesn't do either of these two things then it should be omitted.

“Smith just gets cranky without his daily dose of beer and woman.”

Awkward. Consider rephrasing.

“Holding out on us, eh, Smith?” He tossed Dan the bottle, who caught it with surprising nimbleness.

Also awkward

With a defining howl Smith was thrown to the ground, the bottle hit the snow, and his gun landed off to the side.

What's a "defining howl"?

“What the fuck was that?” Eyes tired with experience, Grant looked up from the motionless body to Dan.

“It's coming.” Confused, he looked for an escape. Any escape.

“What's coming? I – I didn't even feel the air move!” Scott resentfully touched two fingers to Smith's neck, and then stood suddenly.

This exchange is full of awkward descriptions. You should really consider rephrasing.

“He's gone.”

cliche

“Scott!” He shouted again. He felt tears come to his eyes for his life-long friend. “Oh, Scott...”

Because we have almost no background info on any of these characters this line becomes unintentionally funny.

It was then that they both felt it, the slow but deadly Alaskan wind was it passed through them, first through their gloved hands that wielded their weapons. But, that was all that was needed. Chills ran down their spines, and through their inescapable fear they heard it. The howl of the bitter descending wind as it rushed for them.

Uh...okay.


Look, I'm pretty sure Grant was supposed to be the main character in this story but we see so little of his thoughts and actions in comparison with the other characters that we don't really know which person we're supposed to be interested in. With any sort of story, but short stories especially, you want to give your main characters someone they can root for. Every character in a story should want something, whether if its to conquer the world or to get a glass of water. Give us as much background info as possible as soon as possible. And most important of all your main character must undergo some sort of change by the end of the story.

I hope this has been helpful, if you have any questions leave a comment or drop a pm. kEeP WrItIng.

condirant wrote:
Laden with ice and swaying in the bitter Alaskan wind#FF0000 ">, the pines crackled in an eerie orchestra that could be mistaken for the thrashing and snapping of a wild animal's jaws.

condirant wrote:“Dan's lagging behind.” Grant stopped with authority that stopped #FF0000 ">I would word this differently so you don't end up saying "stopped" twice the three others in their tracks. He looked to see Heavy Weapons Specialist Dan about ten feet behind the group, out of breath, before turning back to face the impatient Smith. As if they weren't all anxious.

condirant wrote:“Then carry half his things.” #FF0000 ">I would put a dialogue tag in here so the reader knows that Grant is talking to Smith His eyes widened, as if he had just been ordered to retrace his steps back to camp.

condirant wrote:“You complain, you work.” We're always at work, Smith thought. Grant watched as Dan gave Smith a nod of understanding, and handed him one of the three 50lb packs of weaponry that burdened him with each step. Scott #FF0000 ">I would say that Scott is the medic now, the first time you introduce him watched the event unfold with humor.

“You had to complain, didn't you?” Smith threw the pack on impatiently.

“Shut it, medic.” Medic Scott smiled, double checking that the safety was off on his Thompson.

“I'll remember that, when you're dying, begging for help.”

Okay, I would change this like this to make it clearer who is talking.

condirant wrote:“You complain, you work.” We're always at work, Smith thought. Grant watched as Dan gave Smith a nod of understanding, and handed him one of the three 50lb packs of weaponry that burdened him with each step.

Scott watched the event unfold with humor.“You had to complain, didn't you?”

Smith threw the pack on impatiently.“Shut it, medic.”

Medic Scott smiled, double checking that the safety was off on his Thompson.“I'll remember that, when you're dying, begging for help.”

Do this for all of the dialogue throughout the rest of the story and it will be much easier to tell who's talking.

condirant wrote:Smith looked to the swaying treetops above, as if it was #FF0000 ">they were the source of the blistering wind.

condirant wrote:It was then that they both felt it, the slow but deadly Alaskan wind was#FF0000 "> as it passed through them, first through their gloved hands that wielded their weapons. But, that was all that was needed. Chills ran down their spines, and through their inescapable fear they heard it. The howl of the bitter descending wind as it rushed for them.

Overall I think this is really good. It needs a little bit of editing but as far as the structure of it and the storyline go, it's good. This isn't normally the kind of story I read, but I like it.

~Amylith

Wow, there's a lot of grammatical errors in that one... I normally don't write about this kind of stuff, so that's why it's so scratchy. I disagree with a lot of BadNarrator is saying, but I appreciate the help. Thanks Amanda for the editing.


As for the describing characters late, I do that on purpose. It's part of my style, I guess. It leaves something for the reader to think about. This story doesn't offer any type of resolution. The characters don't really learn anything. That's not the point of this story, though. This was an attempt at writing different. I hope someone enjoys it.