Published December 29, 2007
ALONE
September 5, 2021, 10:40AM
Washington Square Park, New York
I stood under the shade of a withered tree. Nondescript and grey, it was slumped to one side as if some invisible person perched on its topmost branches. All it's leaves were brown and sickly looking, all but one solitary stem which was a colour almost on the verge of green, supporting three bright yellow leaves.
I was standing in what remained of a park near the New York University. A stray dog - they were all strays these days - sniffed at a charred garbage can a few meters away from me. I was at half a mind to whistle at it, desperate for some company other than my own, and the resident voices in my head.
Previous experience, however, prevented me from doing so. Most of these dogs had rabies, the plague, a taste for human flesh, all three, who knew? There surely weren't any willing veterinarians around aching to cure all the strays, or any of the Animal Rescue Service eager to find them loving homes, either.
In fact, there were no loving homes for them to go to, even if such a patrol still cruised the streets of New York. No, I argued with myself, Not quite true; homes could be found anywhere and everywhere. There'd just be no loving owner inside to greet the pooch with open arms.
Not in this part of the city, anyway. In the country? The suburbs? Alaska? Maybe Alaska - far as I know, no one had thought to target Alaska. I mean, who would? The people there'd probably melt with the effort of a take over bid in a place a degree over 30 Fahrenheit.
The suburbs? Maybe. Maybe some lucky fucker's got himself one of those old bomb shelters. Maybe a whole neighbourhood is in it right now, crouched into corners, munching on cans of tuna and stale crackers, going steadily insane at the close confinements. Reading in the flickering candle light. Trying to fuck silently, in a tangle of towels and dog blankets, aware of the other people in the shelter, but going for broke heedless. Or maybe the guy even ain't that lucky. All he's got in that bunker is his brother. And his hand.
But I'm wandering again. Always wandering, never stopping, one of the four voices in my head reminded me in a clear and soft tone, Always wandering, never stopping.
I sighed and the dogs' ears swiveled at the sound. Mutant dog. Dogs ears don't swivel. The fallout must have affected a pregnant bitch, spawning unnatural pups. If that was the case, this mongrel could be young; never living in a populated world where humans reigned supreme, a dog untainted by the violence that had spread throughout the once flourishing city only a few months ago.
A few months ago? Heck, I know the date like I know the back of my hand. Know the days, hours, minutes and seconds to the tee. July 4th, 2021, 12:00 Midday; imprinted in my mind forever the day and the time the sky rained death upon New York City.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
July 4th, 2021, 11:55AM
Washington Square Park, New York
Like every patriotic American living in New York, and even those just visiting, were gathered at Washington Square, for the hot dog stands, ice-cream stalls and military airshow that Independence Day, I was seated with my family on a checkered picnic blanket under a shady tree.
Molly climbed onto my lap and I squeezed her to me, smelling the sweetness of her hair, never ceasing to be amazed that this freckle nosed little girl was mine. Leah, my wife, dressed to the nines to show of to any fellow workmates and any neighbours that happened to walk by, crept her hand into the back pocket of my jeans.
I smiled at her and said to our nine year old boy, "Timmy! Ready for those air planes?"
Timmy was red faced from running around like a lunatic with his best friend Cain. Cain retired to his own family's picnic spread, and sprawled out exhausted next to his mother who nodded at me.
Timmy hit the ground beside me and said, "Course. How many doya think there'll be?" He wiped his running nose with the back of his hand, and absently wiped the snot into the grass.
"Wave after wave."
"Millions?" Molly asked in her high pitched voice.
The background noise I had been hearing for a while surely grew sharper and I looked up to see black dots in the sky.
Leah glanced up, shading the sun from her eyes, "Looks like they're coming, kids!"
Molly and Timmy both peered into the sky, watching the planes fly closer.
"Wow dad, there's heaps, just like you said." Timmy's eyes were wide.
"Really?" Normally only seven or nine jets flew in a V formation over the square, and then came back. Heaps signified many, many meant more than ten. Why so many planes?
I squinted into the sky, everyone else in the park doing the same, watching the approaching jets fly closer. There were ten planes, spread out very wide. Glancing beyond them, I saw another set of ten, spaced to fill in the gaps of the fist lot. Behind that volley was another, and another. Each wave spaced out.
Feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise, I glanced at Leah. She was smiling in anticipation.
"Sonny, there must be at least forty jets out there! They're gonna give us a real show."
The roaring grew louder. Molly practically bounced in my lap. We craned our necks to see the jets. And that's when the first bomb was dropped.
The kids all around us were estatic. At first so was I. I remember thinking, Geez, the kids even get treats this year, when the first scream filled the air.
Heads turned towards the scream. I clenched Molly tighter to me, hoping to God there wasn't some lunatic suicide bomber running around with a Uzi.
"They're bombs!" Someone blurted out in a scream.
If you want instant panic, scream the word bomb in a crowded park on a sunny Independance Day.
The panic was indescribable. There were people running, people still sitting, people screaming and crying. Everywhere kids were being seperated as family members ran off in different directions. All this happened in the 20 seconds it took for the first bomb to hit the Park.
The BOOM of the bomb impacting reberverated in my ears; cut off all other sound. Suddenly I could hear nothing. It was one of the most horrorfying moments in my life. Molly still on my lap was screaming soundlessly into my face, clawing at my clothes. No sign of Leah or my eldest child.
The other bombs in the first V fell in quick sucession - the booms only dull footfalls compared to the first one. The flashes of the explosions, the plumes of fire roaring noiselessly into the sky. Buildings toppling over as if felled by an angry giant.
The smell of burning rubber. Melting tarmac. Smoke. A sweet sickly smell that I couldn't quite place.
The first wave of planes flew overhead, jolting me back to life. The other waves! There were more bombs. More planes. More death.
I gripped Molly to my chest tightly, springing to my feet faster than I have ever before.
Everywhere around me people were running. Stampeding. My eyes swept over broken and bloodied bodies - those not quick enough to get out of the way. Abandoned picnic blankets lay scattered and overturned on the green grass.
I ran towards the street. Vaulted over picnic hampers and small children. I didn't even have to harden my heart into leaving them on their own. I didn't even spare them a thought. God strike me down, but at the time, I didn't even care about them. They were nothing. All I was worried about was myself. And the small child thrashing in my arms.
Slowly sound was returning to me. I could hear snipets of screams. The roaring of the other planes stabbing at my ear drums. Explosions clawing into my head.
Where was my wife? My other child? Who was doing this? Terrorists? Why? How? These thoughts flicked through my head with a scary swiftness, presenting themselves to me for the barest of milliseconds before being snatched away and thrown aside for the next fleeting insight.
A man howling with fear barged into my shoulder, spinning me around 180 degrees, knocking me off my feet. I sprawled onto the park grass, unintentionally squashing Molly under my stocky frame. Intense pain blossomed from my shoulder to my lower back, my head and upper legs, and I tried vainly to prevent crushing my daughter as person after person stampeded over us to get away from the bombs that would continue falling.
A sharp crack confirmed my suspicion of a splintered arm, and a numbing kick to the head made me nauseous and my eyes water.
Crying and moaning in pain, I attempted to crawl to something, anything that would give me some cover from the panicked crowds. Shuffling Molly carelessly underneath me, I slowly made my way through the sea of tangled legs, crumpled bodies of people who weren't as lucky as me, and stray debris to an overturned picnic table.
Sobbing with relief, I rolled into the shelter of safety it offered.
I looked at Molly.
And screamed myself hoarse.
Her head sat oddly upon her shoulders. A blood trail trickled a fine thin path down her chin from a grotesquely open mouth, the tongue lolling out the side, remind me absurdly of a panting dog. What could only be bone protruded from the side of her neck, glistening with thick red blood and pink marrow.
The world around me slowed. I saw motion frame by frame, as if I could take pictures with my eyes and I was in review mode.
Molly was motionless. Every frame of her was the same.
Still.
Still, silent.
Still, silent, and dead.
"Molly." I mouthed, "Molly."
I shook her. Slowly at first, but when she didn't react to the sound of my voice, or the ache in my heart, or the soft shaking, I started to shake her harder. Soon I was shaking her so hard her head was flopping all over the place, splattering blood on her once sky-blue sun dress, and over my singlet. Suddenly her head hit my forearm, and she bit me. I cried out in surprise, throwing her away from me in an action that was entirely in reflex. Her leg hit the edge of the picnic table before she landed in the path of fleeing men, women and children.
I watched, my eyes watering in horror, as she was stood on, trampled, pummelled into the ground, until she was an unrecognisable lumpy thing. It was not my daughter any more. Molly was gone. In her place was a lifeless corpse. I shrieked, howled my anger into the sky. People around me continued to stampede out of Central Park, separated from their families, running for their lives.
Another bomb hit the dirt close enough to me that I felt the immediate heat wave push past me, blowing my hair around my face, and my ears pressurised painfully. The actual sound of the explosion came a split second later. The explosive shock wave made bodies fly through the air. Some of the bodies were dismembered; legs and heads became projectiles along with the natural shrapnel of rocks, dirt and branches. I couldn't hear the fragmentation hitting the thick wooden slats behind me, but I could feel every thump. A torso landed beside my hiding place behind the overturned picnic table; it was mottled with bruises from internal bleeding and was smoking around the edges.
I could see people screaming as they were hurtled through the air and how still they were once they impacted on surrounding trees or buildings. Fires from the first few bombs were spreading, the initial area incinerated from the extreme temperature of the blast. Craters filled with smoke were everywhere I laid my eyes on, and I could not believe that this game of Roulette had not claimed me.
As I regained my hearing, the sounds of the jets screeching overhead started to die down. They continued forward, dropping bombs in their V formations over the city of New York.
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A/N: Sorry about the length of the post. This is actually the work of several posts, but I've combined them into one chapter for the sake of the Novel format. The next chapter shouldn't be as long 
-Jai
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139,521 Literary Works • 672,595 Reviews
Hello seaminglymeaningless,
I really liked your story. It seemed very interesting and made me scroll down and read more! I read it over and over again and I liked it how you described everything and the situation you're in so clearly. I especially liked,
I liked this paragraph too ,
I don't think there's any criticism since this is a very good story ^^ keep writing <3
*nods* Thanks for that, it's good to know.
Eek. While I didn't forget that there were different ways of spelling things (realized, realised), I hadn't thought about how it'd affect the authenticity of my story. *sigh* Hmm... Maybe I should change the setting to Australia, like some of the other people suggested? I'd have to change the dates around to something that most of the world celebrates... Yes, I think I'll do that. Yay.
lol, fair enough. I'll try to make the beginning more obvious about how he's a male. I'm sure I can add something about... beer? Or something typically male to make him a him.
By the time of the foreshadowing, the main character is almost completely insane. I'll have to research schizophrenia, multiple personality disorders and insanity a bit more to make it more realistic. Thanks for alerting me to the fact that the voices don't quite yet seem authentic
You know, I can't even remember why I chose NY. I haven't even been there. Some place like San Francisco with the hilly terrain and Alcatraz as a defensive place where people are holding up, both of which I have been to, would make more sense. Both of which would be uber cool. But I think I might just change it to some place I know intimately.
lulz, yes. Wouldn't it be horrible if the ending was, "He woke."
Thank you AGAIN, Rachael, for a fantastic review!
-----
CSheperd
Thanks for taking the time to read and review
- Jai
i thought it was pretty good, and i'm always a big fan of apocolyptc stories. The description in it was incredible as well. It was a very enjoyable read and i hope there's more to come.
C.S.
Two things, for the record. One, you have the best bribes ever! I mean, honestly. Seriously. It's almost ridiculous how good your bribes are. Just when I said, "You know, I'm done with reviewing today," I saw those adorable faces. Couldn't resist, needless to say. Just couldn't resist.
The second thing, for the record. My shoddy job of skimming the other comments led me to the one about the airplanes. And in fact, it is airplanes over here in the States.
And, on that note, your main character seemed American enough to me. Nice, solid typical-American names for the kids, and while I can't speak about the authenticity of New York, since I've never been there, nothing caught me off guard about that.
You have a few spelling errors running amok, and if you really wanna talk precision attention to details, the American spelling of 'grey' is 'gray,' but I don't really care about spelling and grammar mistakes because they're just typos.
So, onto other stuff! In ramble form.
While I had no trouble believing this guy was American, I didn't realize he was a guy until the flashback section. This is probably just me associating the gender of a first person narrator with the writer, but you might want to man-ify it some. How you go about this, I'm not entirely sure. But, probably obsessive attention to word choice, and then, if you go pick up a book with a first person male narrator, picking apart the sentence structures used and the types of details noticed and making like a mirror.
On the other hand, when the flashback section came around, I had no trouble believing the dude was a dude, either, so, eh. Who knows what I mean.
One thing I did find somewhat odd was the acknowledgment of the voices in his head. That, perhaps, was what made me think he was a female during the first part. It didn't seem... authentic, those voices. He was far too comfortable with them, yet clearly not fully insane; he was too aware. So, you might want to make it more subtle, maybe just put the thoughts there in italics, with perhaps a 'a voice said' attribution, or none at all, and leave it at that for a while. That is, if the voices aren't just something he invented to entertain himself with.
I suppose I should have said that I like this and that you should continue back at the beginning of this, but I was distracted by puppies.
My only concern is that New York and apocalypse movies seem to be going hand-in-hand. Others already mentioned Independence Day and I Am Legend. And while this doesn't seem to be a "Save the world!" action novel or a "Save the world!" action adventure horror drama, and seems to have far more psychological elements... You might consider changing the city, just to change things up. Los Angeles, or San Francisco, or Washington D.C. (and the president would be there at the celebration, too, making the bombing make even more sense!), or Seattle, or Miami--take your pick of big hulking American cities.
With the help of Google Earth, you can be at all of those cities clear over in... Australia!... and be able to get the feel for it and everything. And a Google Image search of "Washington D.C. Fourth of July Picnic/Parade" will give you all the pictures you might need.
And, you avoid falling into the typical post-apocalypse in New York City trap. Poor New York needs a break, anyway, if you ask me.
And, on a final note, the cussing did not bother me at all, and I'm glad it's there. Still, it did catch me off guard, because as far as I remember, it's just the one F-bomb hanging out there all by its lonesome. I kind of like that, because it's used by the official meaning of the word, and it gives you the feeling that this guy just says things as they are; he's not nicefying anything, but nor is he gutter-ifying everything. So, definitely keep it, and maybe add some other words in there just so it isn't the one pimple in this--but only if they really, really, really fit.
I also say that you should most definitely continue. I'm interested to see where this goes, and how you handle the apocalypse. I might not be the best person to ask about it, because I do have a bit of an obsession with apocalypses (if I had a dime for every time I had an apocalypse dream...) but your character's compelling, and this seems more about his own psychological apocalypse than the bombing of America to smithereens, so...
Yep. Write on, write on.
Rach
(P.S. Now, about that kitten...)
Hey everybody
I'm not quite sure why I never once replied to the comments on this, so I thought I'd do some catching up and reply now. I find that answering the questions people ask about my story make things so much clearer to myself. So even if the people who once commented on this might never see my replies, or be able to accept my apologies, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to comment on my work.
Replies below
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~nariel~
You're right, I really need to flesh out my characters. As it is, the dialogue is very minimal, and there probably won't be very nice dialogue when my characters end up talking to each other after the Incident. Understandably, conversation between people who have lost their loved ones isn't going to be very happy, and hopefully I'll get you guys wincing.
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mindoverflow812
Thank you!
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scotty.knows
I know I shouldn't, technically, start a sentence with "and", but sometimes it just fits. And anyway, doesn't it flow better that way?
I'll certainly go back over it and check for weird punctuation mistakes.
Yup, I always get mixed up with U's. It doesn't sound right sometimes, "an university" as opposed to "a university", see?
Will definitely try not to make such a critical research error again
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Kaliber
Thank you
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MidnightVampire
*nods* That's exactly what I was aiming for - this is an average American citizen. He's not a soldier, or an arms dealer, he's an average Joe, who suddenly gets thrust into a world of chaos and destruction, and the happy ending he envisioned his life leading to has just been ripped away. How does an average man cope in this situation?
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intheblowinwind
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KJ
Cheers
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RoryLegend
I'm glad you liked the part about the children - at the time I thought the main character's family was pretty flimsy, and I still think that, so I'm going to do some heavy editing to make his family more *real*. This will mean that the reader becomes attached to these characters who die straight after, but I think that'll make the story better.
Regarding the main character's appearance, I left it deliberately vague so the reader could fill in the gaps themselves and replace his characteristics with those that they believe suit him.
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Parasky
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eaglefire91
Woah, it's definitely not first nature to me
*cringes* It's always a moral thing, regarding language, isn't it. If you put yourself in his position, however, would all your internal thoughts be about rainbows and icecream? The main character is pretty broken at that point in the story, so it's fair to assume that his normal barriers about appropriate word usage have been torn to shreds.
Thank you
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Davidude
Thanks for picking up the typos. We call planes airplanes in Australia, but I'll have to do my research and see if Americans call planes aeroplanes or airplanes. lol, that does seem ironic, I'll go and change that to make it less... ridiculous
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summergrl13
I never said it was the end of the entire world
Hmm. I Am Legend is a very good movie, so I take that comparison as an awesome compliment. There's no where in my plot about the main character curing the zombie virus with the help of a woman who believes in God, however, so I'd say the only resemblance would be the setting later on in the story (though the setting would not be as overgrown - Will Smith's character in that movie was in that city for *years*. My main character's story starts on July 4th and ends sometime around the beginning of October).
If I can get some more positive reactions, I hope on writing a lot more of this. I really like the promise of action this novel will make me write, and I'm hoping I can juggle Reprisal (my fantasy), with this, Alone (a science fiction?).
Another Will Smith movie
*grins* I will try to post more regularly, but university is being demanding, and I find myself procrastinating on this site too much as it is. I won't make any promises in fear of breaking them, but I do plan on writing more of this.
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hershey
As I said to Eagle, the language isn't a question of necessity, but of normality. By September, the main character's mind is almost completely gone - he no longer remembers, or cares about proper language etiquette.
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Thefadedphotograph
I like your constructive criticism
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Well, that's everything wrapped up until the next comment! Thanks again guys, I appreciate every review and comment.
-Jai
<<<<Post moved up to actual story for Novel formatting>>>
Molly was motionless. Every frame of her was the same.
Spoiler
Still.
Still, silent.
Still, silent, and dead.
"Molly." I mouthed, "Molly."
I shook her. Slowly at first, but when she didn't react to the sound of my voice, or the ache in my heart, or the soft shaking, I started to shake her harder. Soon I was shaking her so hard her head was flopping all over the place, splattering blood on her once sky-blue sun dress, and over my singlet. Suddenly her head hit my forearm, and she bit me. I cried out in surprise, throwing her away from me in an action that was entirely in reflex. Her leg hit the edge of the picnic table before she landed in the path of fleeing men, women and children.
I watched, my eyes watering in horror, as she was stood on, trampled, pummelled into the ground, until she was an unrecognisable lumpy thing. It was not my daughter any more. Molly was gone. In her place was a lifeless corpse. I shrieked, howled my anger into the sky. People around me continued to stampede out of Central Park, separated from their families, running for their lives.
Another bomb hit the dirt close enough to me that I felt the immediate heat wave push past me, blowing my hair around my face, and my ears pressurised painfully. The actual sound of the explosion came a split second later. The explosive shock wave made bodies fly through the air. Some of the bodies were dismembered; legs and heads became projectiles along with the natural shrapnel of rocks, dirt and branches. I couldn't hear the fragmentation hitting the thick wooden slats behind me, but I could feel every thump. A torso landed beside my hiding place behind the overturned picnic table; it was mottled with bruises from internal bleeding and was smoking around the edges.
I could see people screaming as they were hurtled through the air and how still they were once they impacted on surrounding trees or buildings. Fires from the first few bombs were spreading, the initial area incinerated from the extreme temperature of the blast. Craters filled with smoke were everywhere I laid my eyes on, and I could not believe that this game of Roulette had not claimed me.
As I regained my hearing, the sounds of the jets screeching overhead started to die down. They continued forward, dropping bombs in their V formations over the city of New York.
I enjoyed reading this a lot. I'd say that my only problem with it was the beginning. The main character was standing in a park under a withered tree and then there was this dog, affected by the devastation of the fallout. I think that you could have picked a better first image to start the story with. Something like, the main charcter walking about his destroyed home, reminiscing on the past and all the destroyed memories. But, despite what I've said, it was still a good beginning---just not the most creative, that's all.
Otherwise, I really liked this story and was left wondering what happened after the bomb dropped.
While I was reading this, I could see everything in my head; you described it so well. However, I gotta agree with eaglefire91 and ask if the f-word is really necessary. Other than that, keep writing, I want to see the rest of this.
<<<<Post moved up to actual story for Novel formatting>>>
All I was worried about was myself. And the small child thrashing in my arms.
Spoiler
Slowly sound was returning to me. I could hear snippets of screams. The roaring of the other planes stabbing at my ear drums. Explosions clawing into my head.
Where was my wife? My other child? Who was doing this? Terrorists? Why? How? These thoughts flicked through my head with a scary swiftness, presenting themselves to me for the barest of milliseconds before being snatched away and thrown aside for the next fleeting insight.
A man howling with fear barged into my shoulder, spinning me around 180 degrees, knocking me off my feet. I sprawled onto the park grass, unintentionally squashing Molly under my stocky frame. Intense pain blossomed from my shoulder to my lower back, my head and upper legs, and I tried vainly to prevent crushing my daughter as person after person stampeded over us to get away from the bombs that would continue falling.
A sharp crack confirmed my suspicion of a splintered arm, and a numbing kick to the head made me nauseous and my eyes water.
Crying and moaning in pain, I attempted to crawl to something, anything that would give me some cover from the panicked crowds. Shuffling Molly carelessly underneath me, I slowly made my way through the sea of tangled legs, crumpled bodies of people who weren't as lucky as me, and stray debris to an overturned picnic table.
Sobbing with relief, I rolled into the shelter of safety it offered.
I looked at Molly.
And screamed myself hoarse.
Her head sat oddly upon her shoulders. A blood trail trickled a fine thin path down her chin from a grotesquely open mouth, the tongue lolling out the side, remind me absurdly of a panting dog. What could only be bone protruded from the side of her neck, glistening with thick red blood and pink marrow.
The world around me slowed. I saw motion frame by frame, as if I could take pictures with my eyes and I was in review mode.
Molly was motionless. Every frame of her was the same.
Still.
Still, silent.
Still, silent, and dead.
"Molly." I mouthed, "Molly."
Awesome! I really don't need to edit this because others have already said it for me. This is really good. But I have a few questions to ask:
.
*
1. But how can it be the end of the world if it only happened in New York City?
2. Does it resemble the movie 'I Am Legend', because it kind of reminds me of that.
3. How many more chapters do you plan to have in here?
4. Is it more like 'Independence Day' rather than 'I Am Legend' because it reminds me a bit of both
5. When are you gonna post more?!?!?! Because I am on the edge of my seat and I am dieing to hear more of the story!
*And sylver, we've always said airplanes in America, so I guess it's okay since it's in NYC. But I wonder if it's different in Aussie and if she should change it into the regular Aussie way. Hrmmm... I shall ponder about it
Couple of things to add:
I'm pretty sure it's aeroplanes, not airplanes or air planes, but maybe thats a UK thing.
You wrote "showing of" when i think you meant "showing off".
Apart from that, I agree with the other comments. Just a make sure you don't make your sentences too long and make sure the meaning is always clear.
P.S you say "the panic was indescribable," Then go on to describe it. I found this slightly ironic.
Wow! So, reading this I realized you do what I don't do enough! =D That was very good. I've never been able to successfully write foreshadowing, but you do it as if it is first nature to you. Also, I really liked the fact that you painted an image in the reader's mind. (That is also something I don't do very well.)
The one thing I would like ask you though is this. Is it really necessary to have the language in the story? I mean sure, in this day in age everyone cusses and it is probably heard throughout school. But does it really add anything to your story? (Maybe I'm just being naive...)
Other than that, it was a wonderful story. It was very interesting and very descriptive. Keep on writing, I look forward to reading more!
I really enjoyed this. It was very descriptive, and the foreshadowing was amazing. You managed to tell me exactly what would happen, then how it happened and the story was vivid enough that I felt like I should scream to the people to run for cover! I like the way you caught the main characters emotions, the way he thought only of himself and his child; the way he was so afraid that everything else was drowned out; sound, thought, morality, logic. I have to say, you should keep adding onto this. It's just too good to stop here.
I have to tell you just out of moral scrupples that I have not read this all the way...but it is getting late here and my eyes are starting to go out of focus so I will read the rest later. But what I did read I thought was very very good. I do like the grown up feeling you get from this story and even though it hurts to hear how happy this guy was it is very important to the story. I like the descrpitiveness of the part just before the bombs dropped, when he is talking about the planes and the formation. Also I really liked the part where his son talked and then wiped his snot on the grass beacuse little kids really do it..my littles brothers do it all the time and its disgusting but it was a good element of the story. Nicely done. I'm kind of curious to find out what this guy looks like. I don't know if you descibed him at all in the parts I havn't ogtten to yet but I'm just having a hard time picturing him. I'm anxious to read the rest and then I'm sure I will want to read more so definatly keep writing!
I very much enjoyed it. You have a solid beginning, and it was very well-written. Sorry I'm so unhelpful. I found nothing worth pointing out, other than that it was very good.
This is very good. You capture the mind of your character very well, and believably. The wandering of his mind is how people really think. At times your description seems a tad passive, but most of the time it's spot-on. I don't understand why you have this set in New York when you clearly don't know about it because you live in Australia. It is always better to set a story in a place that you can describe.
I loved this. Loved it loved it loved. You got me hooked after you said 'and we watched as the first bomb dropped.' I also like how it took the character a while to figure out it was a bomb, because it takes people a little time to realize this sorta thing. Keep writing!
This was good. I didn't like it quite as much as I did the previous entry, but it was still intriguing, and I found myself wishing for more.
The grammar was pretty much impeccable, so I can't rat you out on poor usage. There were a few places where the punctuation might have been off, but I wasn't quite sure so I didn't make a big deal out of it.
I caught one mis-spelling:
I'm pretty sure that you meant horrifying. I mean, it might just be another Aussie thing (Like forgetting that Independence Day is on the 4th of July- XD)
It would be written, "an Uzi" not "a Uzi".
This was probably my favorite line, but I don't think a suicide bomber would be running around with an Uzi.
1st of all, the Uzi is an Israeli weapon. The only suicide bombers I can think of have been Arabs, and they don't like to use Israeli weapons from what I've heard from my friend in the CIA.
2nd reason he probably wouldn't be running around with an Uzi: Suicide bombers don't tend to shoot before they blow themselves up. That said, I remember the Benazir Bhutto assassin shot her in the head before he detonated his explosive vest... the supposed character in your story isn't really an assassin, but more of a homicidal lunatic, though.
It's not a big deal, probably the only people to catch this would be me or Dono, but you might want to rework it.
Look on the bright side, all I could find to critique was the use of an Uzi instead of something like a Kalashnikov. Good job.
<<<<Post moved up to actual story for Novel formatting>>>
I squinted into the sky, everyone else in the park doing the same, watching the approaching jets fly closer. There were ten planes, spread out very wide. Glancing beyond them, I saw another set of ten, spaced to fill in the gaps of the fist lot. Behind that volley was another, and another. Each wave spaced out.
Spoiler
Feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise, I glanced at Leah. She was smiling in anticipation.
"Sonny, there must be at least forty jets out there! They're gonna give us a real show."
The roaring grew louder. Molly practically bounced in my lap. We craned our necks to see the jets. And that's when the first bomb was dropped.
The kids all around us were estatic. At first so was I. I remember thinking, Geez, the kids even get treats this year, when the first scream filled the air.
Heads turned towards the scream. I clenched Molly tighter to me, hoping to God there wasn't some lunatic suicide bomber running around with a Uzi.
"They're bombs!" Someone blurted out in a scream.
If you want instant panic, scream the word bomb in a crowded park on a sunny Independance Day.
The panic was indescribable. There were people running, people still sitting, people screaming and crying. Everywhere kids were being seperated as family members ran off in different directions. All this happened in the 20 seconds it took for the first bomb to hit the Park.
The BOOM of the bomb impacting reberverated in my ears; cut off all other sound. Suddenly I could hear nothing. It was one of the most horrorfying moments in my life. Molly still on my lap was screaming soundlessly into my face, clawing at my clothes. No sign of Leah or my eldest child.
The other bombs in the first V fell in quick sucession - the booms only dull footfalls compared to the first one. The flashes of the explosions, the plumes of fire roaring noiselessly into the sky. Buildings toppling over as if felled by an angry giant.
The smell of burning rubber. Melting tarmac. Smoke. A sweet sickly smell that I couldn't quite place.
The first wave of planes flew overhead, jolting me back to life. The other waves! There were more bombs. More planes. More death.
I gripped Molly to my chest tightly, springing to my feet faster than I have ever before.
Everywhere around me people were running. Stampeding. My eyes swept over broken and bloodied bodies - those not quick enough to get out of the way. Abandoned picnic blankets lay scattered and overturned on the green grass.
I ran towards the street. Vaulted over picnic hampers and small children. I didn't even have to harden my heart into leaving them on their own. I didn't even spare them a thought. God strike me down, but at the time, I didn't even care about them. They were nothing. All I was worried about was myself. And the small child thrashing in my arms.
Slowly sound was returning to me. I could hear snipets of screams. The roaring of the other planes stabbing at my ear drums. Explosions clawing into my head.
[A/N: computer is comencing to shut down for installations - I shall edit this in a few minutes]
Hm, i love it. it makes me want to keep reading, so, keep writing! love the story, exelent story line, couldn't find any mistakes that i know of. good work.
Lol, you read my book so I guess I'm in permanent debt to review every single thing you write for the rest of your stay at YWS.
Yeah, this was a very good prologue to a post-apocalyptic nightmare land fraught with all nature of mutant zombie-dogs, mutant zombie-rats, and plain old mutant zombies.
It was pretty neat and I really had to prod to find things to grip at.
After just using the F-word in the previous paragraph, it doesn't make sense to me to use an alteration of the word hell, in this one.
Okay, I'll give you a break because you're an Aussie, but Independence Day is on July 4th. Really... do a little research.
Grammar: hot dog is two words
air show is two words
You also use "air planes" later. It should be airplanes.
I had to be picky here, but all in all, it's a good sound prologue. I especially like the line...
I'm probably telling you something you already know, but you shouldn't start a sentence with a conjuction... like and
Good job.
this should be
it think this is a very good story. keep writing! however, i'm afraid mine is not so good. could you critique it?
-mindoverflow812
*Looks confused* Huh? I didn't really see anything similar except a couple of things. You should continue writing. Don't worry about 'stealing' ideas. I'll tell you when that happens.
~N~
*post taken by the same things that steal all my right socks*
Hello seeminglymeaningless,
Thanks for reviewing my story, so, I of course, will review yours!
One, this was a very good story. I like how the story is going so far and your writing seems to have a very 'grown up' feeling around it, which is good.
I like this sentence, it has a nice ring to it.
Great paragraph.
Your ending was also very good; it made me want to continue reading.
The only thing I have to say about this is that your characters and dialogue fell a little flat. They weren't really interesting.
But that's about it. Very good story and I can't wait to read more!
~N~