This is the audio only version of the America the Dead podcast… Episode 16
Audio on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dell-sotofo-com-wendell-sweet/id1496549819
https://americathedead.com/ATD-AUDIO/ATD-16.mp3
Get 3D RAD free. The game maker software that is free. Take a look on YouTube and see what it can do…
This video uses software to quickly and easily make a 3D mesh – Terrain and then install it in 3D RAD. List of software and explanations of work done.
Download 3D RAD: https://www.wendellsweet.com/3DRADfiles.zip
Lilly ~ March 20th I decided to write this for the baby. Tom knows, and he’s okay with it. It must have happened with David just before all of this happened. I don’t even know how I feel about it completely yet, but it’s a baby. A baby needs a home, security. I talked to Tom about that. My baby will have a safe home, Tom said so. I guess Tom was with Lydia before. I hear others make comments, mention her name. She looked like me. Tom says only a little. I say it doesn’t matter, not really. He’s with me now. He says he loves me. I believe that. He knows about the baby. He says he won’t leave me; what more is there to need, or ask for? I just don’t want my baby to be unneeded or unloved, abandoned like I was. I know how that feels. I don’t know about Lydia. I’m sorry she was killed. So much has happened. I’ve seen people killed right in front of me. I guess I need therapy… That’s supposed to be a joke… Not a good joke, I guess. We’ve all seen a lot, but there are no shrinks left to talk to. Another poor joke, I have a million of them, all stupid. I guess the real stuff is Christ. Christ is what gets me by. Christ is what I believe in. Christ is who will help me to take care of my baby. I mean, if there ever was a time to lean on Christ wouldn’t it be now? I was not religious before this happened. I didn’t go to church. And I’m not religious now, not really. I simply believe in Christ. That’s a belief, not a religion. A belief can last, religion fails sometimes, and I can’t afford to be part of a failure. I need absolute. I need something sure. I need belief, and that’s what I have. Don’t get the idea that I’m fanatical, I’m not. I guess if we’re keeping this for the children then this will be for you, my baby, my girl, my boy, someone who I have not yet met. That gets so deep. I don’t want you to misunderstand who I am or what I believe in. Eventually there will be all this space between us and this night when I sat down, thought about you, how much I love you before I have even met you, and how I want things to be for you. I know things will not be as I see them. I know that time changes everything so easily. I just want you to see who I am right now. Not a crazy; not a fanatic. I am just a young woman who believes that all that is left is Christ to see us through. I’m going to tell Sandy about the baby. Tom agreed. She’s a nurse. She knows things, and I’m a little afraid of how it will be. We are going to leave April 1st. That’s not long. I can’t wait, really. Nothing, almost, nothing good has happened here except the baby and Tom. I don’t mind going… As of this coming Monday, there will be 15 FREE episodes you can watch/listen to on YouTube, Dell…
WHITE TRASH
By Dell Sweet
Copyright © 2018 by Dell Sweet
PUBLISHED BY: Dell Sweet; all rights reserved
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
LEGAL
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.
This novel is Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the authors permission. All rights are retained by the Author.
Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.
Cover art Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet
Copyright 2018 Dell Sweet, all rights Reserved
The Cops
Don managed to get the bedside phone on the third ring. By then it had awakened Jenny too.
“Goddamn cops,” Jennie muttered as she buried her head back under the blankets.
“Yeah?” Don managed.
“Sammy,” Sammy told him. “You have got to get down here, we’re out of here, like, 3 hours ago… You there, Donny?” Sammy asked.
Don set up in bed which caused Jennie to complain even more. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sammy. Say it slower. My brain has no caffeine yet.” He rubbed his face with one of his large hands.
“We’re going to Alabama… Mobile. Several tips put the Suburban on I-65 yesterday, just outside of Mobile: Nothing after that. The chief thinks they went to ground, and there are rumors of a big deal that’s going to happen there with an associate of the late Richard Dean. We don’t have names yet, but they’re working on it. The guy is a big drug dealer in that area. We’re going down on a flight out of Syracuse in 2 hours. We’re going to meet with the locals, it’s their ballgame, but the chief wants us to be there when the whole thing goes down. Sort of like the New York liaison,” Sammy said.
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Don said. He reached for the night stand and got a cigarette. He lit it and then tossed the heavy silver Zippo back onto the table with a metallic clunk. Jenny raised her head.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Fuck,” Don said.
“Fuck ain’t the half of it,” Sammy agreed. “You’re awake now? I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, we have to hurry,” Sammy finished. He clicked off before Don answered.
Don slammed the phone down. “The chief, Mr. Political aspirations himself, has decided in all of his wisdom to send us to Mobile-Fucking-Alabama of all places, because some tips came in that placed the GMC on I-65 yesterday and nothing since then,” Don said as he worked his way out of bed and headed toward the shower.
He called from the shower. “Brilliant, over-react now to cover his ass for not reacting when he should have… Jen, could you get me out a suit of clothes?” He called as he turned on the shower. He kicked off his boxers and stepped under the spray which was still slightly cold, forgetting about the cigarette in his mouth. He caught the soggy mess in one hand and tossed it toward the toilet. It landed on the lid with a wet plop.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “That’s why the lid should be up.”
~
Jimmy stared at the TV. The weatherman was on now talking about the fall weather and the start of the hurricane season.
He had been out once to dispose of Ronnie Lee. It was a large shop, but a body couldn’t hang around too long without air conditioning and this place had none.
He had found a state park next to a swamp, they called them bogues here, according to the sign, but they were still swamps. He had tossed the body in. There were alligators all over down here. The body wouldn’t last long. He hadn’t wanted to wait that long to do it, but he had been afraid to leave: As the night wore on though he became convinced that they were not coming by. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe what he would do wasn’t necessarily what a couple of green kids would do.
He wondered about the other kid. The paper boy, but he had no idea who he was or where he’d come from. And if he was honest with himself he didn’t care either. The kid was one of those anomalies: A fly in the ointment; a nothing, at least to him.
It bothered him that the cops had such a lock on the two vehicles. Every red neck with eyes would be calling every time they saw a Suburban of any kind. It would be a bad couple of days for anyone who owned a white suburban.
He wondered about Neo. He was positive that Neo was dead. Or he had been. If he was honest now there was more than a little doubt in his mind. It could have been anyone in that car. Neo could be smart enough to be behind this whole thing. He could be pulling the kids strings: Both of them. And if that was the case he himself would have to be very careful. Getting shot in the back of the head in a car chase was one thing. Facing Ben Neo in a one on one situation was not something he wanted to do. His phone rang. His own cell phone and he knew who it was before he answered it.
“Jimmy,” Tommy’s voice rasped. “I got a fuckin’ cold so bear with me… And now I’m getting a fuckin’ headache. I’m hearing Ben Neo might still be alive. My own, turned against me… You heard that shit, Jimmy?” Tommy asked.
“I just heard it,” Jimmy acknowledged.
“You think these cops are jerking our chains? You hear they’re talking organized crime ties? This is getting out of control, Jimmy. Out of control… I need the truth, Jimmy. If it is Neo, can you handle him? … Can you handle him? I need to know that, Jimmy. If this fucker has turned on me… Like… Like some fuckin’ dog that don’t know his master… Like that, Jimmy, I need to know that you can fix that, Jimmy… A thing like that has got to be fixed, and I need you to tell me that you can fix it,” Tommy said.
“I’ll get him,” Jimmy said. “I’ll be honest, Neo is no joke, but you know I’m not one either. I’ll get him,” Jimmy said.
“Or else?” Tommy asked.
“Or else he’ll have to fuckin’ kill me… I know my job. You know where my loyalties lay, Tommy. He’ll have to kill me, but he won’t. He won’t because he has nothing on me at all. I know him. I know how he operates: His methods. He’s a dead man, Tommy. He just don’t know it yet. When I get him, believe me, he’ll wish he did die in that car with the top of his head blown off,” Jimmy said.
“I don’t ever doubt you, Jimmy. I don’t. Get this done for me. Make it all work out and I’ll take care of you. You know that,” Tommy said.
“I know that,” Jimmy said.
“You need something, you call these people. They’re right there. They’ll help,” Tommy said. He rattled off two local phone numbers.
“Okay,” Jimmy said. He clicked off, tore off the square of paper with the two numbers on it from the pad. Folded it, and slipped it into his pocket. He wandered over to a long display of acoustic guitars, took one down and strummed the open strings. He had never learned. He couldn’t figure out how anyone could learn. It was killer on your fingers. He hung the guitar back up, walked back to the stool where he had been sitting and sat back down. There was nothing he could do, but wait.
From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. The deadlay in the streets while gangs fight for control of what is left. Small groups band together for safety and begin to leave the ravaged cities behind in search of a future that can once again hold promise… https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-apocalypse-geo-dell/1129594134?ean=2940046551945
The end has come for most of the world’s population. Small groups of survivors are picking up the pieces… Learning to live again…
When the sun began to peek over the top of the ridge on the opposite shore of the Black river. https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-rising-from-the-ashes-geo-dell/1129594132?ean=2940044254039
The dead woman Jeff had told him about bothered him a great deal. He had remembered a day he had gone out, after things had fallen apart. He had heard airplanes in the night. In the morning, there was some sort of blue liquid they had sprayed all over the city. https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-geo-dell/1129594131?ean=2940044308596
The morning turned to early afternoon before the four trucks pulled up out of the field together, followed the service roadway back onto route 3 and headed toward Clifton. Cammy studied a map as Bear drove. https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-geo-dell/1129594130?ean=2940152008579
It seemed as though the entire world turned into a solid wall of noisy gunfire. On both sides and front and back.
The zombie hit the ground thrown back by the force of the bullets. A huge section of her side blown away … https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-geo-dell/1129594071?ean=2940152010350
Earth’s Survivors SE 5 brings together book Six, Watertown, and book seven, World Order from the earth’s Survivors series in one volume. From the theft of the virus from a top secret facility to the births of The Nation’s first babies to the formation of The Fold and how it came to be.
Book six tells the story leading up to the Apocalypse. That tale includes the story of Billy Jingo, Alice Tetto, Major Weston’s private secretary. Ben Neo and Jimmy West, hired Killers, and a drug deal designed to hide the transfer of a top secret drug stolen from the Underground Bluechip facility, that goes very wrong. Set in the days leading up to the catastrophe that ends the world as we know it, Watertown is a hardcore ride through a world few would want to live in, but the world it leaves behind is somehow even worse than the one it helped to take away…
Book seven steps back to the beginning of the catastrophe to bring you the story of the Fold; Jessie Stone and why and how Snoqualmie settlement came to be. It begins in present time in the Nation and then falls back to just a few days after Watertown ends and the beginning of the Apocalypse. The Fold becomes the biggest challenge to the Nations power. The community that can force the Nation into compromise, or bring a war that may destroy both societies.
Both stories in their entirety in one volume…
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-se-5/id1212582642
The first book rushes to its conclusion, with the survivors coming together, making their collective decision, and carrying out their plans… #HorrorPodcast #AmiAdams #YouTube #DellSweet
This is the audio only version of the America the Dead podcast… Episode 12
Audio on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dell-sotofo-com-wendell-sweet/id1496549819
This is the audio only version of the America the Dead podcast… Episode 18
Audio on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dell-sotofo-com-wendell-sweet/id1496549819
Pearl (Pearly) Bloodworth
6:20 PM
The streets were clogged with snow, but the sidewalks were impassable, so she had no choice but to walk in the street.
She made her way carefully, slipping and sliding as she went. It was just before 6:30 P.M. and she might make it to work on time if she could make the next two blocks without incident.
She had been working at the downtown mission for the last several months: The night shift for the last two months. The mission night shift was an easy shift. Everything was closed down. Those who had made the curfew were locked in for the night. Occasionally there would be a little trouble between residents, but that was rare. Glennville was small, as a consequence the homeless population was small. And trouble, when it came, was usually settled long before her shift. Her shift amounted to catching up on paperwork, dispensing an aspirin or two, and being there if there was an emergency of any kind. At 4:00 A.M. The kitchen staff would be there to start their day. Shortly after that the rest of the day-shift would be in. At 6:00 A.M. The mission doors would open and the homeless would take to the streets. She would have an hour of quiet at the end of her shift, sitting and listening to the bustle from the kitchen as they cleaned up after breakfast and began to prepare for lunch.
She heard the approaching vehicle as she was stepping around a mound of melting snow and ice. It was late and there had been no traffic on this side street when she had stepped into the street at the cross walk three blocks down. The alternative was the foot deep snow and ice thrown onto the sidewalk from the plows. She would never get through that and make it to the mission on time.
The Mission was on upper Franklin street, a short walk in a straight line, or even if you had to walk around the square and start up, as she usually did, but tonight the square was packed with traffic and so she had chosen the shortcut instead. Unfortunately it was not well lit: A four block wasteland of parking lots and alleyways.
She had almost turned completely around to make sure the car had seen her when the horn blared and startled her. A second later she finished the turn, hand clasped to her throat, and watched as the car skidded to a stop and three men piled out of the back seat slipping and sliding in the slush, laughing.
“What’s up, bitch,” one asked as he found his feet and stood staring her down. The laughter died away.
“Nice ass,” another said as he moved toward her.
She turned to the second man, the one who had just spoken, as she shrugged her purse from her shoulder, caught the bottom of it in one hand, and slipped her other hand inside. The third man, really just a boy, looked frightened as his eyes slipped from his two companions and then flitted to her. The driver leaned out the window,
“What the fuck! Get the bitch!” He was looking over the roof-line, sitting on the windowsill of the driver’s door, a smirk on his too-white face.
“Yeah… How about a ride, baby,” the nearest one said. The other had finally found his feet, stopped slipping, and was skidding his feet across the slush heading in her direction. She pulled her hand from her pocket and aimed the mace canister at them. They both skidded to a stop.
The closer one, the one that had made the remark about her ass, cocked his head sideways, shrugged his shoulders and then pulled a gun from his waist band. “Yeah… Kind of changes the whole situation, don’t it?” He asked.
“Roux! Don’t shoot the bitch. She’s no good to us dead!” This from the man-boy leaning out the window of the car.
