Burning Victory. (Part One)

Danger felt ambiguous, like the smell of bitter coffee, as the Tram ambled up the rough and broken pavement of future highway 1106. The Site looming ahead wasn’t scheduled for development for another three years, but the rigid trespassing laws laced the super-secret getaway feel of the place with a certain degree of risk. Trask took a sip from the steaming mug in the console and floored the gas pedal, not caring in the slightest.
“We about to burn this shit up!” he shouted to his disgruntled passengers, yanking on the wheel a little too hard as he turned, sending bodies crashing into one another.
“Shut up Trask,” said Reid feebly, his breath fogging up the window with circular puffs of condensation.
“Off road beeyotches!” he yelled, his voice grating against every surface in the cabin, stirring up the early morning air.
“I swear, I am going to kill you,” Maura clutched the armrest and glared daggers at Trask as the car began jerking violently along a rougher terrain.
Trask didn’t seem to hear as the sheer joy of hijacking the family Tram enveloped him.
Racing over the imperfections of the unpaved ground, the Tram’s cabin shuddered violently, grating organs together, sending every loose item and every available surface into a frenzy of aggressive vibration.
The enormous cross-iron gate came upon them fast. With absolutely no skill or finesse, Trask jerked the Tram to a halt within seconds of collision, leaving deep skid marks in the damp mud.
“Trask, you fucking idiot!” Maura was beside herself as she seethed. She’d crammed herself up into a corner like a cat scrambling for dry ground.
“Hey, you know this ground is rough Maura! Damn, what are you expecting? A fuckin ride through pansy-land?” he retorted, slamming in the button that switched the gear to park.
“You don’t have to go a thousand fucking miles per-“
“Hey! Someone’s got to open the damn gate! Quit nuking each other’s skulls off,” said Reid from the back.
Trask angled his square head and flitted his eyes across the three bodies in the Tram.
“It’s Pammy’s turn.”
“But I don’t wanna…” Pammy’s dark eyes squinted, her voice climbed in octave.
“Pammy, it’s YOUR. TURN. Get out there. And run fast. It’s fucking cold.” Maura said from the front seat before turning back around.
“Reid, can’t you do it?” asked Pammy, her hands clutching the roughed-up leather.
Reid sighed and clawed a mass of dark hair behind his ear. “No. Get your ass out there,” he said almost listlessly.
Pammy hardened her face and slowly zipped up her jacket. She took in a gulp of the artificially heated air and jammed her thumb into the ‘Open’ button on the Tram’s door.
A second after she slammed it shut again, they saw her take off full speed for the control panel on the far right side of the gate. Her knobby, bony knees kept knocking each other as her stride gained ferocity.
Through the layer of grime on the windshield, they watched her yank up the sleeve of her jacket to her elbow. The shocking white of her forearm contrasted viciously with the inky black of her Stamp. With the wind tossing her hair in cyclonic motions and her skin exposed and reddening, she waited in an eyes clenched, body trembling, skin revolting state for the sensors to pick up the design.
She finally watched the screen before her ignite in white pixels beneath a layer of filth. Letting out a breath, she quickly punched in the security code. A code on of Maura’s “connections” had oh-so-casually slipped her months before.
The incredible noise of iron groaning filled her ears as she sprinted back to the large, boxy Tram.
She slid in and couldn’t close the door quick enough. She crumpled up and shivered to herself as Trask pulled into the widening space between the gates.







This story was pretty long so I decided to separate it into two parts.
Part Two is here : topic82304.html

Danger felt ambiguous, like the smell of bitter coffee, as the Tram ambled up the rough and broken pavement of future highway 1106.

This sentence is nonsensical. Ambiguous means to be unclear or inexact. How the heck can Danger feel inexact or unclear? And what the heck does it have to do with bitter coffee? Bitter coffee smells unclear??

Although I'm not actually sure I'm reading a story. There isn't really any conflict either. I mean, the guy randomly decides to accelerate the vehicle to an insane speed and his passengers aren't thrilled with it. The entire thing seems completely contrived. This entire scene is composed of people swearing at each other while driving along. Now, maybe that's "real" but it isn't necessarily interesting. In fact, it is really boring.

Now maybe there is a reason for all this. Maybe there is something really interesting happening. But if there is, you don't tell us about it and if something interesting does happen, it happens long after I lose interest.

hi there

So yeah I had a skim through the previous reviews and I think they have a point - although, I see your wish to keep an aura of mystery and intrigue. However, I think you could have more! So much more... this is a short beginning to a story - fill it to the BRIM with mystery and intrigue. When the piece is this short, every word has to count. And be interesting and important. Which is where I agree with the comments on swearing - you overuse it. In a big way. And it's a shame because towards the end, you settled into profanity-free lyrical loveliness that began to create an atmosphere, rather than a nothingsphere. Read your work back and you'll see what I mean. How amazing would this be if you did the same the whole way through?! Precisely...

I like to pinpoint small slips as a general YWS-profession, and here are some things I found:

“I swear, I am going to kill you,” Maura clutched the armrest and glared daggers at Trask as the car began jerking violently along a rougher terrain.

When the text outside the speech marks doesn't directly describe the speech (i.e. when it's not "he said" "she shouted" "said [character] stiffly" etc etc) you need to put a full stop before the closing speech mark. The comma is used when the text is like my examples

Her knobby, bony knees kept knocking each other as her stride gained ferocity.

spelling: knobbly*

With the wind tossing her hair in cyclonic motions and her skin exposed and reddening, she waited in an eyes clenched, body trembling, skin revolting state for the sensors to pick up the design.

Technically, there was nothing wrong with this sentence. Still... the "she waited in an eyes clenched" bit really confused me at first - maybe be simpler, like this: "she waited with eyes clenched, body trembling for the sensors to pick up the design."
Also, the "skin revolting" bit - huh? What exactly were you trying to convey, that her skin was dirty or was revolting against her or was... what? I'd reconsider your wording.

A code on of Maura’s “connections” had oh-so-casually slipped her months before.

Couple of things - firstly, spelling: "one of Maura's"; secondly, you use this - " - for speech, so I wouldn't use it to signify quotation marks in the air. That's just my opinion/how I do things - instead, I do this: "A code one of Maura's 'connections' had ..." I hope you understand my convoluted way of explaining things!

Basically, this has real promise. And I feel that your writing does too - use them both to the best of your ability, and this could go somewhere.

~*cottonrulz*~