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Young Writers Society



Chaos Theory- The Zombie Effect: Chp 4

by Wariofart


Chapter 4 is up! If you haven't read Chapters 1, 2 or 3, I recommend you read them. If you're too lazy, here's a quick summary of what happened:

Spoiler! :
Chp 1: Claire and several other people are barricaded in a church during a zombie apocalypse. Jacob informs her that they are out of food, and will get some tomorrow. While they are talking, a zombie's hand breaks through a barricaded window, but Antonio shoots it.

Chp 2: Antonio writes a chapter next. He gets ready for the trip tomorrow, gathering supplies. He talks to Mother Anabella, who tells him that they need guns, and that there is a weapons store in the opposite direction of the grocery store. He decides to take two groups out, one tackling each errand.

Chp 3: Claire has a disturbing dream that her mother is a zombie and tries to attack her. In her terror, she hurts Jacob. Jacob has to stay in the church and can't go on the errand, so Claire decides to go. The chapter ends with both groups running out into the open.

Chapter 4: Antonio

“Three!” I yelled, kicking the door open. I jumped down the small flight of stairs to the asphalt. Then I sprinted full-force through the parking lot into the middle of the street. I surveyed the devastated neighborhood around me. I couldn't believe how much had changed since just two weeks ago, when I had first arrived at the church.

In front of me was a movie theater. At least I thought it was. The sign had fallen over, and was dangling by only a few wires. Hardly any of the letters that used to spell out the name were still there. Behind the suspended sign were broken windows and splinters of wood. I slowly walked around to the side and saw that pieces of the wall had caved in. The inside of the theater was equally destroyed. Counters that used to sell tickets had burn marks, and some even had gun holes through them. Judging by the size, and space between the bullet holes, it looked like some maniac with an AK-47 tried to loot this place. I shuddered, starting to doubt that we would find anything at the weapon store.

"Antonio, are you ready?" I turned around and saw Zebah staring at me. He had a slender body and short, curly hair. His eyes were a strange, almost hypnotizing orange-red. He had noticeable cuts and bruises all over him. I tried to think of anything he'd done while in the church, but nothing came to mind.

"Oh, sure," I walked past the theater and towards the weapons shop. Three blocks. It shouldn't have taken longer than a few minutes if under normal circumstances, but this was definitely not normal. Every few feet there was something that got in my way. A telephone pole that had fallen over. A truck that was upside down and issuing smoke. Even a dead body. I tried not to notice that its head was missing. I stepped carefully, sick to my stomach, but not saying a word. After about thirty minutes I stopped. We were in an intersection, hopefully, three blocks away from the church. I looked around and saw about five shops, and each looked the same. Crumbling, vandalized and broken.

"Well here we are." I said. "Where do you want to start?" I waited for a minute and saw Zebah staring at me, transfixed. He pivoted around, carefully examining each building until he pointed to one on the right of me. I looked over at it. It seemed about the same as the other, maybe even more ruined. "Why did he pick this one...?” I thought for a second. Then I looked at the ground near what should have been the entrance. There was black dust all over the ground, no not dust..."

"Gunpowder," I said to Zebah. “I can't believe I didn't see that before, I feel like an idiot."

"Yes" he said to me. I couldn't tell if he was saying yes to that being gunpowder, or yes to me being an idiot. His face was blank from emotion. He could have made a hell of a poker player before this, I could tell that much.

"Well Zebah, let’s go get ourselves some guns." I said with a smile. I handed him my flashlight and walked into the store. Once inside I waited for Zebah to flick the flashlight on. After he had I slowly walked through the store. The walls were completely empty, not even the shelves remained. I started to walk down the middle of an isle towards the back of the store. The flashlight beam illuminated only about ten feet in front of me. It felt like I was traveling into an endless abyss.

"See anything Zebah?" I called behind me.

"No."

I kept wandering, looking left and right. As I was about to give up hope I saw a glint of light reflected off Zebah’s beam. I pushed some shelves that had been knocked over out of the way and called to Zebah.

"Wait, I think I found something!" I yelled excitedly. Zebah pointed the flashlight down the aisle I saw the glint, but instead of guns I saw.... a women. She was holding a sub-machine gun right at me, about to fire. She was Mexican, with beautiful, dark, long hair. Even though her clothes were tattered and her hair was all over her face she seemed to radiate. She looked right at me. The whole world was quiet for a moment. Then she spoke.

"Antonio?" she asked me.

“Rosa,” I say to her, pulling back her fantastic hair. She looks up at me and puts her arm around my head. I stare into her crystal blue eyes for a moment, and then kiss her.

“I love you,” she whispers into my ear.

“I love you too,” I whisper back. I roll over and stare up at the ceiling. I wish I could give her everything she will ever want, but I can’t. Somehow, fate has cursed us, giving me a minimum wage job, with no money to pay for her college tuition. Fate has forced her to be a maid for rich white family. It has caused us to barely be with each other. So I have to treasure every moment it gives us.

“Antonio, I know things will get better.” I don’t know how, but she always seems to know when I am down.

“Yes. And we’ll have each other until then. Nothing can tear us apart,”

“Rosa!” I yelled. I ran towards her, arms wide open. We embraced, hugging and kissing each other. After a few moments I pulled away and looked into her eyes, brilliantly sparkling.

“I…I thought you were dead!” I said, my eyes filled with tears of joy.

“I thought you were too. I was so alone, so scared…”

“It’s okay, you’re with me now. I’ll take care of you, it’s okay.” I held her in my arms for a few moments, blocking out the rest of the world. “Finally, fate is giving me a break,” I thought. Then I heard something that caused that peaceful moment to shatter.

“Mhm…MHM! Ahh!”

“What?!” I snapped around to see Zebah struggling against something. The flashlight he held in his hand was bouncing around the shelves so frantically; I couldn’t see what he was fighting against. Instinctively, I quickly placed one had over Rosa, and the other to draw my gun.

“Zebah, stop moving, I can’t shoot if you keep thrashing!” I yelled at him, desperately. If it was a zombie that was attacking him, it could be too late. He could be bitten already and then it’d be all over.

“Damn it Zebah, stop moving!” He was still grappling with the mysterious foe, sending the light everywhere. I couldn’t get a clear aim at anything, I couldn’t see anything, the light was blinding me, the darkness was suffocating me…

“Ahhhh!” I hollered, running straight at Zebah. I grabbed the flashlight from his hand and pull it out from him. Then I pointed it at him, preparing for the worst. To my horror, it was worse than I could have ever imagined.


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Mon Mar 15, 2010 11:46 pm
Mr.Knightley wrote a review...



Hi there, Wariofart! Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this...I've been busy. But! Here I am. :P

First off, I would pay some serious attention to everything Hippie just said if I were you. That was a great review, and he pulled everything together very nicely. I wish I could have done that. :smt003 In fact, he said all of the things I would have and more, and I can only point out the minor nitpick that I noticed...

Zebah pointed the flashlight down the aisle I saw the glint, but instead of guns I saw.... a women woman.


I wish there was something else I could say about this...Overall, you could use a little work on the things Hippie pointed out, but you have a great start here otherwise. :D You are far better than many writers I've seen on here, particularly the ones who are the same age as you. Good job!

If you have any questions or would like another (better) review, please don't hesitate to ask me! I'm always glad to help. :smt001

-Knightley




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Mon Mar 15, 2010 12:36 am
Hippie wrote a review...



That's a good idea having the summary of the previous chapters so people can jump in mid story. I haven't read the previous chapters (too lazy :) ) so maybe some of my comments will be irrelevant. Now, on with it.

In the first paragraph you've got a lot of sentences starting with I (and a "then I" which also counts). This is a common problem in first person, and you'll need to rectify it. You could join some of the sentences together to get rid of a few, and it would also give some variation, because all of the sentences there are of similar length.

Next you've got this scene of destruction, but I'm afraid it doesn't pull any heartstrings. Try adding some sense of loss on an emotional level, rather than just physical. Instead of just showing the broken furniture, hint at the fun, the happiness, the romance of a movie theatre, now gone. It would add some humanity to it. Maybe Antonio has his own sentimental connection to that movie theatre which you could explore.

"Antonio, are you ready?" I turned around and saw Zebah staring at me. He had a slender body and short, curly hair. His eyes were a strange, almost hypnotizing orange-red. He had noticeable cuts and bruises all over him. I tried to think of anything he'd done while in the church, but nothing came to mind.
"Oh, sure,"

At first I wondered why he said "oh sure." Going back I saw that he was asked a question, but the block of text between question and answer took my mind off it. I'd put the answer directly after the question so there's no confusion.

Now I don't know if this is the first time these two have met, but if they have met before, then Antonio shouldn't be observing Zebah's appearance because he already knows.

Even a dead body. I tried not to notice that its head was missing. I stepped carefully, sick to my stomach, but not saying a word.

The "I tried not to notice its head was missing" bit makes it seem a little comical, like maybe dead bodies are so commonplace now that he's not really bothered. However, you then say he was sick to his stomach, so there's a clash between what's being said and what's being implied. In any case, saying he was sick to his stomach is telling, and it's also a cliche. Try this site, http://thebookshelfmuse.blogspot.com/. It's got an emotions thesaurus, and while it doesn't have sickness, you could look under disgust, worry and anxiety to find some good physical reactions to show his feeling sick instead of just telling.

There was black dust all over the ground, no not dust..."
"Gunpowder," I said to Zebah. “I can't believe I didn't see that before, I feel like an idiot."

As far as I know, you can't get gunpowder on its own these days. The bullet and powder are built into a metal cartridge, unlike in the early days of guns where the gunpowder and bullet were separate or in a paper cartridge. Also, modern gunpowder is a light greyish brown, unlike the outdated black powder you're thinking of.

I stare into her crystal blue eyes

:thud: I think I'll put something in my signature about gemstone based eye descriptions so I don't have to repeat myself every single review I do. :thud:

the light was blinding me, the darkness was suffocating me…

The light blinded me. The darkness suffocated me. Active voice is better.

On the whole I think this could do with a bit more atmosphere and a whole lot more tension. Work on sentence length to imply tension, and physical reactions and emotions to show it. The blog I linked to earlier is gold, and I strongly reccomend you subscribe to it or at least bookmark it.

Have a nice day.




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Sun Mar 14, 2010 1:03 am
Way2Dawn says...



Very exciting I like the way you write.





Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling.
— Henry David Thoreau