Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language, violence, and mature content.
Word Count: 2195
“Do we really need to do this?” Jerry asked.
“The more supplies we have, the better off we'll be,” Roy said knocking on the door of the house. Jerry had only remarked on how a quaint little place like this must've had a nice family living in it. The paint on the display shutters was still smooth and uncracked. It even had the white picket fence that is in everyone's daydreams of the perfect house. “No answer. Let's check inside.” Roy raised his rifle and Jerry followed suit with his shotgun, their muzzles aimed at the brown door that Roy slowly pushed open. The room inside was clean and tidy. Not a thing out of place. The carpets were recently vacuumed and void of any marks from feet.
“This place is spotless,” Jerry commented as the two of them slowly moved into the room. The kitchen was the same as the first. Completely free of dirt or filth. No food encrusted plates in the sink, or empty cans of food. “Who would clean like this during the apocalypse?”
“Someone trying to hold on to some semblance of normalcy,” Roy responded. “I'll check the basement. You search the rooms.” Jerry nodded and headed down the narrow hall filled with happy family portraits.
Jerry paused by them for a moment. They reminded him of the photographs that were lining the halls of his own house in Phoenix. One was of the owners, he supposed, on their wedding day. Him in a black tux and her in a white dress. A few of the pictures were just of a boy and girl running about a yard. One looked like the aftermath of a water fight. The pair smiling brightly and each holding a water gun. Their soaked clothing sticking to their bodies as they grinned in triumph at the camera. Jerry ran his hand on the glass that protected the picture beyond. The thought that he would never be able to take a picture like this with his own children flashed in his mind. The ache, that had become all too familiar, pained his heart once more. He moved passed the pictures to the master bedroom, in perfect order, and the kids rooms, a whirlwind of mess and toys. In the girl's room he found a small horse. It was a painted horse, like one you might find in a dollar store, with white and tan . The mane and tail was made of that fake hair and colored a dark black. He smiled thinking that Marian would love it, even if it was for someone a little older than her.
The basement was not so ordered a scene as the rest of the house gave the illusion of. Wooden shelves that lined the walls were filled with miscellaneous boxes containing decorations for different holidays. Roy paused as the light from his flashlight fell on two forms lying still in sleeping bags in the middle of the room. He slowly lowered his rifle seeing the two kids resting peacefully in their sleeping bags. The moment would have been perfect if the small hole in the side of their heads hadn't reveal the mercy killing. Roy looked at the two children, his eyes softening in pain. They were at peace. They had likely had pleasant dreams. Completely unaware that they would never wake from them. Roy found himself praying that they were still having their dreams as some form of peaceful afterlife.
A look further into the basement showed where the mother and father had gone to spend their final moments together. Lying side-by-side and holding hands. Each of them holding a small 22 caliber pistol that might be used for target practice. Roy sighed as he wondered what their last words had been to one another after they had made sure that their children were freed from this hell. What could you say to the person that you just ended the lives of your own children with?
Taking the blanket at their feet, Roy pulled it up and over their bodies and placed a tarp over the children to give them peace. He wiped the tears from his eyes and walked up the basement steps. “Anything in the basement?” Jerry asked as Roy closed the door.
“You don't want to go down there,” Roy said ushering him passed. He didn't let Jerry see his teary eyes. No one needed to know what he had seen down there.
Stepping out into the bright light of the hot Texas sun, Jerry had to shield his eyes to see their little group parked a little ways off. Beth fed Marian from the small bottle in her hands as the others sat in the shade of the truck to prevent being cooked in the heat. Dave stood on top with a pair of binoculars and scanned the area for any danger. “Anything?” Carl asked.
“Nothing of use,” Jerry answered rubbing the beading sweat from his brow.
“Hey Roy,” Dave called from the top of the truck. “I think I've got something. There's a large group of people over there. It looks like they're waiting to get on a boat.”
“You think we should check it out?” Jerry asked.
“Not with the truck. Just in case,” Roy stated. “Sue-Anne, can you drive us over so we can see what's going on?”
“No problem,” Sue-Anne said hopping into her truck. Jerry and Roy pulled themselves into the bed of the truck and shifted a few of the bottles full of liquor so that they could put their feet down. The small pickup drove them across the dry desert. The small breeze it created brought some relief to their burning heads.
“How do you want to handle this?” Jerry asked over the wind.
“Carefully,” Roy answered. “We don't know how many of them are carrying weapons. We'll assess and then figure out what to do from there. If things get hairy, jump in the truck and take off.” Jerry nodded as Roy banged his hand on the cab of the truck, signaling for Sue-Anne to stop. Roy and Jerry jumped out to the crowd in front of them.
Sitting in the river was a large tug boat. A small group of people were already shuffling about to get room on the crowded deck. The ramp to the boat was guarded by two military dressed men. Their uniforms decorated with necklaces, jewelry, and corners of cash sticking out of their pockets. The people all held something that would be considered valuable as they all looked in desperation to the men guarding the boat. “What the hell are they doing?” Jerry asked in a hushed voice.
“The current bid is three hundred dollars, a gold watch, and a pearl necklace!” the thinner of the two soldiers cried. “Can anyone outbid him?!”
“You're fucking kidding me,” Roy growled under his breath.
After a moment's pause the thinner soldier stepped to the side. “Sold!” A rather young woman walked up the ramp to the boat holding the hand of a man about the same age. “One ticket, not two.”
“What are you talking about? I paid for us to get on the ship!” he cried.
“You paid for one of you to get on the ship, and I'm sure that she will be most appreciative to you for letting her go instead of yourself,” the larger soldier said placing a hand on the man's chest and pushing him back. “In fact, she'll be even more appreciative when I allow her to suck me off to get over the grief of losing you.”
“You fucking...” The man was suddenly cut short when the larger soldier shot him between the eyes. The woman screamed as she watched the man she was with die in front of her.
“No one rides free,” the thinner soldier said. “The next ticket starts at two hundred dollars.”
People began crying out bids to get passage on the ship. Jerry felt disgusted that people were stooping to such lows in a crisis. He was about to turn to Roy only to discover that he wasn't there. Roy began a slow walk through the center of the crowd. Jerry could practically see the anger emanating from him. He stopped at the front of the crowd, looking both of the soldiers over. “Let them on,” Roy said calmly. The two military men looked to each other in confusion before looking back to Roy. “First the kids, then the women, then the men if there's any room left.”
“The ship can only take so much weight, dumbass,” the larger soldier laughed.
“Yeah? How much do you weigh? Two-eighty?”
“Three twenty-five!” the soldier shoved his pistol into Roy's face, finger on the trigger.
Roy quickly batted the pistol away and drew his own, shooting the soldier right between the eyes, just as he had done to the man earlier. The man crumpled to the ground in a dramatic fashion, bills fluttering out of his pockets to dance about on the wind. “Three twenty-five, that's one woman and two kids.” He waved them onto the boat. Looking to the thinner soldier, Jerry could see him flinch. “Dump the luggage and anything else that isn't necessary.” The soldier nodded quickly before scurrying aboard and began to toss suitcases and bags overboard.
Roy holstered his pistol and returned to the pick-up. The crowd still waiting for a place on the ship left their luggage in the place they had dropped it, along with their possessions that seemed so valuable at the time and slowly filed onto the ship. “Let's head back,” Roy said climbing into the bed of the truck. Roy seethed in his anger as the truck rattled back toward the group.
“What happened? We heard shots,” Dave asked.
“Everything's fine,” Jerry said. Roy stormed off getting into the driver side of the truck.
Roy knew that he wasn't in any mood to talk to people and he didn't want to snap on someone because he was having a bad day. First the family, now this fucking shit, he thought.
“Just a small mishap. Let's get going,” Jerry said to put everyone at ease. He took Marian from Beth and got up into the passenger seat with Roy.
Getting back on the road, the cab of the truck was silent save for the hum of the engine and Marian's periodic cooing at the funny faces that Jerry was making at her. “Five years ago,” Roy suddenly stated. “I was overseas in Afghanistan. I was in charge of security of an Army base, more specifically the arriving trucks that brought our supplies. During one of my checks I found a group of soldiers beating on a few of the drivers. I brought the discovery to my superiors and they laughed at me. They offered me a bribe if I would look the other way and keep my mouth shut. I refused. I was going to report them and they had me dishonorably discharged. They pinned the entire thing on me. Saying that I was the ring leader of the beatings. My wife took our kids and left. I was nearly thrown in prison for war crimes until they figured out that I had nothing to do with it. Anything I put in after all that though was seen as just me being disgruntle. I spent the last two years trying to get my wife to come back. Then this shit happened. I don't even know if they're alive.”
“I'm sorry, man,” Jerry said.
“Nothing to be sorry about. Wasn't your fault. I just can't stand by and watch men abusing their power for their own gain. Couldn't then and I can't now.” Roy was clutching the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning white.
Jerry nodded. “Glad to know that there are still a few people with decency.”
Roy scoffed and pulled out a beer, cracking the seal on the aluminum can with a loud hiss. “Not sure decency is something that can be afforded in this time.”
“Without your decency, I wouldn't be alive. Showing compassion is the only thing that separates humans from animals.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“Do you think we should stop and give the group in the back a lesson shooting? If something had happened to you, me, Sue, or Carl none of them would know what to do.”
“I guess you're right. Next open area I see we'll stop and get some practice in.”
“How about a shooting range?” Jerry pointed to a small building that seemed to appear out of the desert like some miracle answer. A long, flat section of gravel stretched out the back to a large mound of dirt that served as a barrier that the bullets fired wouldn't continue on to strike some poor pedestrian happening to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“That'll work,” Roy said pulling off into the small parking lot.
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140,098 Literary Works • 672,998 Reviews
Salutations!
I am afraid I cannot provide critique on your novel's progress up to this point, but I shall endeavour to do this particular chapter justice.
First sentences are important, and not necessarily just the first sentence of the novel - that much every author, aspiring or published, knows. Yours possesses that quality readers seek and which affirms that yes, you're still putting in the same amount of effort as when you started the novel. The use of dialogue is a good idea, since personally, the alternative seems like you must write a description of some sort. In addition, a speaking character makes for a more involving, dynamic opening.
Having said that, the first sentence is only the foundation of the chapter. What is built upon it must also be of sufficient quality, or the structure might collapse. The paragraphs following the first are slightly more lacklustre than expected, but like any polishable items, there's nothing a bit more attention can't fix. Although detail is good, it isn't necessary to emphasise the cleanliness of the house too much, because then it starts feeling forced instead of natural. The characters' comments add to this. You might also want to address the occasional grammatical error, such as malapropisms ("passed" instead of "past"), comma-splice errors, and sentence fragments.
Now, characterisation is even more important than imagery and grammar. As such, you need to choose each action your characters make and each word they say with care, lest their portrayal differ from your intentions. Roy is clearly the leader and can't stand people who take advantage of others, but he isn't very rational. Killing the one soldier solved a temporary problem, but what if the other soldier decides to avenge his mate after the party has left? Jerry seems to be Roy's foil, which could be illustrated by his fear of not being judged by the others for crying, while Roy does whatever he feels like. These are the conclusions I drew from what I read, so if that was your goal, well done. Just ensure you keep this dynamic up throughout the story, or it might seem like you didn't think it through. Conversely, if that's not what wanted, you need to be more careful.
Overall, I enjoyed this first part of the chapter. Without having read the two previous chapters, I have an idea of what's going on and who's in the party, which is always a good thing, as it indicates coherency in the writing. The conversations struck me natural enough, but don't rely too much on the protagonist being the quixotic hero in a post-apocalyptic setting. And beware of grammatical errors, since those never sit well with a reader.
I shall see you again in the next chapter.
Hey there! I'm here for a quick review on this lovely review day.
So, this is pretty well-written. You're good at setting the mood of the scene - it feels as dark as I'm sure you intended it to be. I like how you use the setting to trigger a reveal of important backstory about both Roy and Jerry.
One the one hand, I like your slower pace as you describe what happens as they scope out the house and they find the dead family. It really gives the reader a chance to slow down and appreciate the horror and sadness of what's happening.
However, those paragraphs are rather long - it'd be good if you could break them up. Also, I think you can do even better. Edit those paragraphs like you would poetry - use the most powerful, vivid language you can find to really give your reader that emotional gut punch. Use words that evoke emotion and write your sentences to create atmosphere. That will make it even more powerful.
I also thought Roy's story shouldn't have been told all in one paragraph - too easy to miss details. Break it up a bit, and maybe interject with questions from Jerry or Jerry's personal thoughts
As far as other things go, I find it a bit hard to believe that they'd be using currency in a post-apocalyptic world, at least among civilians. It seems to me that the money would be worthless, especially if the old government collapsed. Maybe that's not the case here. But at the very least, I'd think that a gold watch and pearl necklace would be almost worthless - when you struggle to survive, you don't need trinkets, you need food and other necessities.
And that's all I've got for you! Good luck, and keep writing!
Hi! You do have more! I really liked how this part got a bit more into the reality of an apocalypse. So far, most of the people our group have met have been nice. It's good to see some who aren't.
The character development for Roy was great! I've been ragging on character development because that's the only way you'll really care about them. It's nice to see another side to Roy, as we've been mostly looking at Jerry. The entire ending was really great.
Having the family dead was an interesting touch. I like it, especially as people are always afraid of killing kids. Since their house is so clean, it's pretty clear it was recent. I know you said you gave a hint about what turns people into zombies, but I'm still not sure what it was. Why aren't these people zombies? I'm assuming it will become clearer later, but if you intended us to figure it out already, I don't think that's happened. If you just wanted to give a hint, then everything's fine.
One of the interesting things is paying passage on the boat. You see this often in survival movies and books, taking a ridiculous amount of valuables to pay for something small. This also shows that the apocalypse is very recent, as they haven't yet switched to asking for ammo, food, or water like they should be. Valuable, if not already worthless, will be soon.
One of the only critiques I have is how Roy says they'll check it out without the truck and then they drive it straight up to the people. I don't know if it was just unclear or if you changed your mind, but it seems to be contradictory. The only other one is Jerry's and Roy's thought processes. Jerry's is good, as you can see him connecting the children to his own. But with Roy, we don't get that. It's more of a general, oh no, they're dead. Adding a bit more personal detail to that thought might make it stronger, like how his personal details made the ending stronger. Beyond that, it was great!