links to previous chapters :)
I jump to my feet, knife in hand. Archer has an arrow on the string in the amount of time it takes me to blink. I’m not kidding when I say he’s that good.
“It’s me,” Dane says, breathless. He must have been running for some time. Sweat covers his body, drenching his clothes. Smudges of black powder are across the light freckles on his face. Blood drips down a cut on his forearm.
I lower my knife, “What’s happening out there?”
Sophia sits up, but remains quiet. Her eyes locked on Dane.
“We need her,” Dane says, pointing at Sophia. “Now.”
Dane moves towards Sophia, his footsteps hitting the floor in an almost desperate manner.
"What's going on, Dane?" I ask.
"Dylan has been talking to Winchester," Dane says, grabbing Sophia and pulling her to her feet. I want to stop him from being so cruel, but I don't know how without showing feelings. Not romantic feelings, more like pity and understanding.
Sophia tries to pull free of Dane's grip, but only succeeds in making him hold on tighter. She glares at him, her jaws clenched tight. But Dane in no mood for her acting up. He roughly ties her hands in front of her.
"Talking about what?" Archer asks, stepping forward. "What could Dylan possibly have to say to that son of a bitch?"
Dane shakes his head, "I don't know. Dylan just told me to get her..."
There's something more at play here, I realize.
I narrow my eyes, "I'm not letting her out of my sight." I promised I would keep her safe; away from Winchester. So that's what I'm going to do until I know what Dylan is up to.
"Then come along, shithead," Dane snaps. "But we gotta hurry."
Out of the room, down the stairs, and into the chaotic sunlight. I blink a couple times to readust my eyes to the light. Archer is on my right, whereas Dane is leading Sophia a couple steps ahead. She glances back at me, and I catch an almost pleading expression on her face before it vanishes and she's yanked forward again.
"This is going to be interesting," Archer says quietly. He pulls his bow free and notches an arrow on the string, glancing from rooftop to rooftop for any movement that might suggest we're being watched.
There are no signs of damage from where we are, save for clouds of black smoke rising in the sky. The same cracks in the roads and crumbled buildings reside exactly where they should be. Nothing is out of place. No extra rubble. But I know it will only be a matter of time before we come across the ruins of war.
Few people are still out. Most are either in the undergrouds or at the crossroads with Dylan. I watch the people who have chosen to do neither. They're standing around, some talking amongst each other, whereas some are going about their business like nothing is wrong. Those are the people who really make me mad. Just so long as they're not harmed, they don't care who comes out of this war on top. I have a disliking for them, to say the least.
"Heads up," Archer says quietly. He gestures ahead of us where several recently flattened buildings are. I see what Archer is looking at. It's not so much the buildings, but more the five gunmen standing across the street from them.
"Don't worry," Dane says. "They're not going to harm us."
I don't feel the least bit reassured by Dane's words. To me, there's nothing good that comes from Winchester's men. They don't promise anything. And if they do, it's all a lie. So when Dane tells me these bastards aren't going to harm us, I simply clench my teeth and tell Archer to shoot them if they move even a hair out of place.
"It would be my pleasure," Archer responds.
As much as I would have liked the gunmen to try something, they didn't. We pass them without any mishaps. I glare at them, sending a silent message that I wouldn't hesitate to shoot them if the oportunity came. They pretty much send the same message. Good to know we're on the same page.
It's like the air changes. As soon as we pass the flattened buildings, everything around me becomes dusty and hard to see. The bombs have destroyed everything on this side of the outer cities. What used to be downtown Glenn is now a pancake. I look at all the buildings that used to hold a few-- very few-- memories. They're gone. If I were more personable, perhaps I'd be sad. But seeing this only makes me more eager to see Darrien Winchester in the ground.
A few more blocks. Sophia has been silent this entire time. She doesn't try to run. Nor does she look back at me. I kind of want her to, just so I can see if anything as changed with her attitude. Is she still scared? I can't tell from her walk.
"Can we pause a moment?" I call to Dane.
He shakes his head.
"We're going to stop for a moment," I say, taking large steps until I catch up with Dane and Sophia. I grab Dane's arm and look at him firmly, "We're going to stop."
Dane glares at me, but nods.
"I'll take her," I say, placing a hand on Sophia's arm. Dane doesn't fight back. He lets me take Sophia from him. I lead her a couple steps away, then stop.
"Are you going to kill me, then?" Sophia asks.
I raise my eyebrows, "What makes you think I'd do that?"
"One way or another, I'm going to die," Sophia says blunty.
"Pardon?"
But Sophia doesn't say anything else. She turns away from me, her gaze lingering over each and every flattened building.
I look ay Archer. He shrugs.
Something is definitely up. With Dane. And with Sophia.
"Time to go," Dane says. His tone of voice suggests he's not suggesting it, either. We're leaving.
Dane takes Sophia's arm again and continues on to the crossroads. He doesn't stop or slow to allow her to ger her footing better. When she trips over the rubble, he merely pulls her up and keeps going. I have to stop myself from getting upset.
She's the daughter of Darrien Winchester. Why should we be compassionate? The thought enters my head. But the moment it does, I vanquish it. She's not to blame. It's not her. She's just a naive girl with a monster as a father.
Perhaps she's not as naive as she seems...
I wonder this. Maybe Sophia knows more about her father's work than she's letting on to. She said she was going to die one way or another. Could she be speaking about her father? Or is she merely refering to us? Does she think we're the kind of tyrants who kill innocent girls? I hope not.
There are so many questions I want to ask her. So many I want to think over.
But there's no time.
The crossroads are before me.
And so is Darrien Winchester.
Ah, I’m back. It appears as though I’m reading these in the completely wrong order, but that’s okay.
Just nitpicks this time, mostly:
Why is he telling us his feelings? Why not show us his feelings? And what feelings are these anyways, “not romantic” is too vague. I’d suggest showing how he feels about her through action. For example:
“I wanted to stop him from treating her so cruel. I raised my hand but hesitated, and my arm fell back to my side. There was a certain understanding between her and me, and I pitied her bruised face.”
Or something, don’t copy that^^^ but do try and convey, a little more subtly, how he feels pity and understanding.
These two things caught my eye, and I wondered about them, as they seem rather unbelievable:
1. Why is Archer using a bow when everyone else has guns?
(This isn’t very credible, and wouldn’t work very well. I know they look cool but they’re also overdone. Trust me on this one… I am an archer myself. If people are walking around with guns, it’s probably best to have a friend who is also armed with a gun. Why not make him a sniper or something? That would be cool… and then the name of “Archer” wouldn’t be so obvious)
2. Why are people just milling about in the middle of a war-zone?
(You tried to explain this a bit: “They act like nothing is going on.” But still, bombs are going off. Unless there is a VERY good reason for people to stay, the town is going to be deserted. At the very least everyone is a couple miles away from the fighting, hunkered down and hiding in shelters. I haven’t read the previous chapters but this seems to be a complete absurdity to me.)
This section here is a rather abrupt transition, and needs to be smoothed out a little:
First: Why not just say “The air changes.” It’s stronger and avoids awkward contractions, which don’t sound that great in prose. (They’re great in reviews though, :p )
Second, his equating Glen with “a flattened pancake” stands in sharp contrast with the seriousness of the rest of the paragraph, and thus it creates a really weird juxtaposition. Besides, what person do you know that actually says this?
Thirdly, “…that used to hold a few-very few-memories. They’re gone.” What? He didn’t spend much time here (thus had few memories)? Or has he lost all those memories? Which one is it? And the sentence “They’re gone” seems to hang out there in white space.
Lastly, the last two sentences are particularly weak. “Personable” means amiable or friendly… and a person can be sad even if they aren’t friendly. Also… why would he be describing himself like this? It seems odd for him to describe himself or his own character at all, actually. Even if he is the narrator you need to find other ways to reveal aspects about his character. Mainly through other characters. And the very last sentence is a cliché-one that doesn’t work in context. How does one “see” a person under the ground?
I have a problem with this-he’s suddenly acting assertive, okay… but it doesn’t even turn out to be important, and he drops the issue anyways! What was your intentions here? I think it needs to be clarified… why is it so important that they stop?
They say “Winchester” the whole time until here and two paragraphs ago. The characters need to be consistent when they refer to other characters.
And what thought enters his head? That they should be compassionate? That’s more of a feeling than a thought, and as such shouldn’t be stated so obviously as well.
Also, not “vanquish,” which means to conquer. Try “banish” or “expel” or synonyms of such.
Well, hope my nit-picks weren’t too picky.
This was good though, I hope you get more readers.
-ED
Hi... So I guess I am going to be the only one to review this! But that is A-okay.
So to start off, I have to say I did like this, even though this isn't my usual preferred genre. Needless to say, I do have go talk about what I liked here.
First off, you set off a very clear picture and that, I think is very important as a writer. I haven't read all of you chapters yet, but by judging from this, I imagine they must be good as well.
The only criticism I can think of though is a few of the lines. At some points, I felt you could have used stronger vocabulary to depict a bigger picture. That's not to say the vocabulary was all weak, but of course it could be improved at some points.
Anyway, I hope this helped you somewhat and that you continue to write.