In the Elk Mountain overpass. Joe managed to winch two of the cars out of the way, and together they had pushed the third off the roadway and over the steep rocky embankment.They had both watched as the car careened down the side …
They left the truck beside the stalled traffic, and walked through and around the cars to the large shop. They spent the better part of the afternoon outfitting themselves from the racks in the shop and carrying what they needed across the road to the truck. The pickup had a black vinyl bed cover. They opened it, stored the tent and the sleeping bags along with the other camping gear inside it, and then snapped the cover back into place.
“It probably won’t keep everything totally dry,” Joe said, “if it rains, I mean. This is kind of more for show than actual protection,” he said indicating the cover. “But, it should still do all right.”
They had both picked up weapons in the shop. Joe had picked out a deer rifle, a fairly impressive looking Remington. He had also picked up several boxes of the ammunition the rifle took. Arlene had settled on an entirely different sort of weapon. It looked more like a machine gun of some sort to Joe, and she also picked up several boxes of ammunition for it, and several spare clips. She explained to him that it really wasn’t a rifle, but a machine pistol, and that it could fire better than seventy rounds a second if it were converted to full automatic. This one wasn’t she said, but she had seen some that were. To Joe it still looked like a machine gun, and he joked that the sight of it alone would probably scare anyone off.
By the time they had loaded the truck and gotten under way it was late afternoon. Even with the late start, and the slow going due to the traffic, they managed to make it to Lake Easton in the Snoqualmie National Forest preserve, before night-fall.
The elevation had been rising all day as they climbed through first the foothills, and then the mountains of the Cascade Range.
Joe angled the truck off to the side of the grassy median they had been traveling, and followed a dirt road into the heavily forested park area. About a half mile in they came to a wide calm lake. The area was completely deserted. No cars, no trucks, and only a few empty, rustic buildings close by the water. They worked together to gather some dead-fall to build a small fire.
night was beautiful, Billy thought as he walked along Beechwood Avenue. He knew
pretty much everyone he passed. He had been here for a little over six months
having made his way up from Mexico when things had gone bad for him there.
Technically he was on the run. Warrants out of New York. Somebody had put two
and two together and dug up some prints from a crime Billy had been involved
with. He had only found out about it because he had happened to be away from
the house when the Feds showed up. His neck of the woods had no municipal
police, but even if it had they wouldn’t have come with shotguns and armor.
had hid out for three days until the word had trickled down to him that it was
him they were looking for to hand over to some federal agents from the U.S. It
hadn’t taken much to put two and two together. He had managed to get a beat up
old Ford pickup truck and then filled-fifty five gallon drums full of gasoline
that rode on the back of it. He set off into the desert.
rest had been easier. Despite the laws and the changes in the U.S. It was
pretty easy to disappear here. He had come with a little money, and that had
helped. He had worked a series of meaningless jobs as he worked his way up the
west coast. Seattle had looked good and so it had held him. That and Beth had
was out of reach and he knew it, but that didn’t stop the fact that he wanted
her to be in reach. He had never met a woman like her. So he had stayed. He had
watched her arrival from God knew where, some other place in California or
Washington probably. He had watched her struggle to survive on the streets:
Watched her work those same streets, doing her act in any place she could get
into by day, walking the streets by night, and it was then he had seen
something else in her. Something hard, some will he himself had that was hard
to define, but that hardness in her pulled him to her like a magnet. It was that
had been working for Harry by then and so he had mentioned Beth to him. He
didn’t know how the details had worked out, but a few weeks later when he had
noticed she had disappeared from the avenue, he had found her tending bar at
as he walked he became immune to the world around him. He never heard Don until
he was on him, had spun him around and dragged him into an alley.
“Hey… Hey! Don… What the fuck, Don… Hey!” But it did no good. The first punch nearly shut him down. The second did. The rest he never knew about.
Small bands of survivors are joining together, making their way across the devastation of America… 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. “It’s hard to believe this is as far as we have got in over a month together,” she said as she studied the map. “We had no real direction,” Bear supplied. “It’s not like we had decided on a place and headed toward it.” Bear watched the sides of the road. They were traveling along at less than twenty miles an hour, weaving down into the median, and off onto the service roads that paralleled the highway when they had too. There were too many cars abandoned next to the road, in the road, even across the road, to be able to keep track of all of them at one time. A large mall came up on the right and Bear slowed at the interchange to look it over. Billy’s truck rolled up, the window dropped and Beth leaned out. “Looks okay,” she said, breaking the silence of the quiet afternoon. “Except it’s quiet,” Bear agreed. “That’s always been bad news.” Beth held up her machine pistol. “We need what we need.” Bear nodded. “Let’s go then… We stay together though.” Beth nodded, Billy shifted back into drive and waited for Bear to pull away. He pulled in behind him and followed. There was a thick line of trees behind the shops that Bear didn’t like. It seemed like the perfect place for the dead to hide away. He drove slowly into the first Mall area, past the trees and into the second lot. The trees were not as thick up close, but he could still not see through them, and it bothered him. Anything, or one, could be hidden within them. He turned the truck and pointed it back toward the entrance road and shut it down. Billy, and then Mac, pulled down, turned around, and stopped next to Bear’s truck. They shut down too and the ticking of cooling motors filled the silence of the parking lot. Bear looked around the lot, but saw nothing that seemed out of place. Abandoned cars and trucks. The front doors to a discount store were shattered, the aluminum frames twisted, pushed open wide and pinned against the faux brick front with carts. Bear had left the windows up. He didn’t like the idea of having to start the truck to roll them back up. It was better to roll them up before he shut down. He levered the door open, and stepped down to the pavement. Beside him, Billy, Beth, and Mac stepped out of their own vehicles too. The doors chuffed closed, and the silence came back heavy. Bear scanned the parking lot but saw nothing. He looked over at Beth. She shrugged and looked back over at the wood line Bear turned away and started toward the shattered front entrance, the others fell in behind him. The front of the store was destroyed. They stayed together, walking aisle to aisle looking for the dead. The smell had hit all of them when they crossed the threshold into the store. The dead were there: Where they did not know. They walked slowly forward into the huge building. Silent. Safeties off their rifles, waiting.
Earth’s Survivors Home in the Valley: The front of the store was destroyed. They stayed together, walking aisle to aisle looking for the dead: Safeties off their rifles, waiting.
Last night we routed out three hundred of the dead… Burned them in a pit, lost 3 of our own, Conner. #Dystopian
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.
Somebody with money and he could call the night good. Just enough to get a good high… Or enough to get enough shit to get a good high tonight and maybe a good high tomorrow when it all wore off and the jingle jangles set in? … Maybe, he decided.
The Nation Chronicles
This is copyrighted material
The scarred wooden door had been crossed and bound securely by black iron strapping, and a huge forged lock had been set securely into its face. As Ira had watched, the lock seemed to explode from some unseen force. The iron strapping had burst apart, and spun viciously down into the still draining molten rock, hissing as it touched the surface.
The two men who now stood before them, had dragged the foul smelling man-like creature out of the darkness the door had revealed, and the level of the hot liquid below had suddenly risen, and had begun to cascade down into the now open doorway, enveloping whatever lay within.
The man-creature struggled to free itself.
“Stop!” the older man commanded. “There is no longer any reason.”
The man-creature opened its mouth and pursed its lips as if to spit, and Ira turned his head from the squirming mass of snakes that tried to push through the small opening.
Greenish bile flew from the creature’s mouth as it spoke, and, although the language was unfamiliar to Ira, the intent was clear.
The older man’s face clouded over, and he raised his hand toward the screaming thing that was still being restrained.
The flesh of the man-creatures face seemed to boil as new pinkish-looking skin formed, appearing from nowhere, and sealed its mouth completely shut. Ira could still see the snakes behind this newly formed tissue, twisting and turning, as they tested the strength of the enclosure.
The green eyes of the man-creatures face burned momentarily, as if with fire, and the muscles in its body bunched, in an effort to loose itself from the two formidable men who held it.
The older man stood calmly beside Ira, and waited for the struggles to subside. When they had, he spoke.
“You will listen,” he said, and then paused before continuing.
“But of course I have forgotten myself; you do have a choice…”
“…Do you choose not to listen?”
The man-creature slowly shook its head back and forth from side to side.
“Bring him here and release him,” the older man commanded the two men, who were still holding the man-creature they had dragged from the pit behind the old door.
As the clock ticks down for our planet and her inhabitants, powers that have lain dormant for centuries are loosed on the Earth. Zero Zero takes a look at a post apocalypse world in ruins. The governments are gone. The police, the military. The United States is no more. And even the simplest things are hard to come by. Some have hidden to ride out the storm unleashed upon the Earth, others have taken a stance in the fight. …
The Nation Chronicles: Book One
Copyrighted material. All rights reserved
He could hear them talking in hushed tones.
“Do you think he’s dead?” One asked.
“Maybe,” the other replied.
I’m not! Joe tried to scream but could not.
“Well he sure as shit ain’t breathing…”
“That don’t make him dead, you idiot,” the other one, with the deeper voice replied, “I read where it takes four minutes for the brain to die, he could start breathing again or somthin’.”
“Well…” The one with the whiny voice began.
“Shut the hell up and let’s get going,” the one with the deeper voice said, cutting him off.
Who said that, Joe wondered as if it made a difference? Are they picking me up? Why? He couldn’t tell if they were picking him up or not. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything, he realized, and it was beginning not to matter to him. Is this what it feels like to be dead? He wondered.
“Are you sure he’s dead?”
“I told you I don’t know.”
“Well the bastard’s looking right at me is all, and it bugs me,” the smaller man whined.
Joe knew that they had to be lying because he couldn’t see them. I can’t be dead ’cause I can hear, and I can’t be staring at them, ’cause I can’t see nothin’, Joe thought as he tried to open his eyes.
“He ain’t fuckin’ dead! He ain’t! He ain’t…”
The panicked scream was brought about by the flicker of his eyelids as Joe had tried to open his already open eyes, and was cut short by a sharp slap delivered across the face of the terrified smaller man, that Joe heard perfectly well.
“Shut the fuck up Eddie, just shut up ya fuckin’ baby.”
Eddie shut up.
“I stabbed him nine fuckin’ times,” Bobby Lawton, the bigger man insisted, “he’s dead already… Okay?”
Nine Fuckin’ Times? Nine fuckin’ Times, you’re dead already, Joe’s mind informed him.
Joe felt nothing during the trip through the kitchen to the car, which was parked at the rear of the house.
“Open the damn trunk,” Bobby said.
They had carried the body out the back door, to where they had parked the Cadillac earlier.
“Open the damn thing…It’s not locked, just lift up the lid,” the voice continued as Joe listened.
I gotta tell them, Joe thought. I ain’t dead, and they can’t put me in the friggin’ trunk.
HEY! Joe tried to scream, I ain’t dead, and you can’t put me in the trunk!…I’m claustrophobic, I can’t stand tight places!
But his lips would not move, and his throat would make no sound. His lungs could pull no air into his body to make his throat work, he realized.
I’ve got to replace the locks, he reasoned, please… Please? He pleaded as the trunk lid slammed home.
Fuck you, he thought, just fuck you, I ain’t dead! He was tired though. Very tired it seemed.
Joe Miller did not feel the bumpy ride to the old Jefferey’s farm, and he did not feel the dirt and stone striking his face as he lay at the bottom of the shallow grave. Joe was dead. Oh yes, he was truly dead indeed.
#1: I caught up on Earth’s Survivors six, chapter five is there. I like getting writing in even when it is busy.
#2: Geo Dell writes well. I had a chance to look at some of his work, and we could work together and publish under the independAntwriters mantel. That has been what has helped the Earth’s Survivors series come to fruition quicker…
#3: Earth’s Survivors Book One, two, three, four and five are now offered pretty much anywhere on-line. Nook, I-Tunes, Amazon, Smashwords. Check this link for the places you can download from https://wendellsweet.com/?s=Earth%27s+Survivors .
#4: Dreamers two is in editing.
#6: You may think that because you see certain of our names on a regular basis that we own the place, or think we do. We don’t. We work on the creative projects we have wanted to work on. It works. It’s not broke to put it bluntly. Anyone can have a page here, it’s pretty simple.
That’s it for the news, news.
In other news; Fred: If you read by blogs you know my cat Fred turned out not to be a Fred at all. About the time she discovered the neighborhood Tom: I should have known, but I thought they were just friends. You know, two Toms. But, no, she’s about as pregnant as a cat can get, almost as wide as long. I said that last week and she just keeps getting bigger. It’s sort of like the little flat popcorn bag in the Microwave. Pop … pop … pop .pop pop Pop POP! And I can’t believe how big she is. So I placed her on Maternity leave. I expect a litter of Puppies. Yes Puppies, she’s certainly big enough and I’m not a cat person anyway: Which brings me to pets…
I have this constant Cat / Dog thing. I think of Cats as Female and Dogs as Males. I thought that was common. A no-brainer, but I mentioned it the other day and somebody looked at me like I was crazy. So I guess not everybody looks at it the same… Or that guy was weird and he may have been. But, pets…
Dogs and Begging… Cats and Begging…
Dogs beg and rarely will they turn down what they have begged for. The dog couldn’t care less. I have seen a dog eat potato chips, cheese curd, pudding, green beans, toast, and I once owned a Dog, Sammy, and she ate mice. Yes. Whole.
Cats? Yes on the mouse, but the cat will only eat parts of the mouse and you will have to clean up the rest, or, Like my Fred, they will bring the dead or alive mouse to you. Fred likes to bring them to me alive. I guess that is Fred’s way of making sure I get my exercise chasing the damn mouse/squirrel/bird through the house. But the rest? No. A cat will not eat any of the rest of it. But that does not mean the cat won’t beg for it anyway. Mine does. And every time I give her some, and every time she turns her nose up and walks away.
Dogs appreciate snacks, Cats feel you owe them. If a cat had a lawyer? You would never speak to the cat. If a dog had a lawyer he’d be having a conversation like this with the lawyer… “I don’t know, Bob. They’re pretty good people and if I sued them they might not give me anymore peanut butter sandwich bites and I like peanut butter sandwich bites and I… I… Excuse me Bob, I’ll be right back…” Zoom, the dog is off and into the office where I just happen to be eating a peanut butter sandwich. And, that only makes sense. Dogs are all about sniffing scents out of the air. They sniff everything, all the time. Chairs, Fire Hydrants, Butts, Crotches, Car tires, everything they do is about smell. If you’re eating a peanut butter sandwich in the attic, balanced on the window ledge with the heat of the house rushing past you and carrying the smell away they would know about it… It would go something like this…
There you are, hanging out the window, eating your peanut butter sandwich. No dog. And then suddenly, far away, the phone rings. You think nothing of it, but a few moments later the attic door bumps open and up the stairs trots your dog (Feel free to substitute Skippy or Lassie or Rover here), Bear. He trots up and does that sideways twisting his head thing that is so, well, Dog like.
“Hey,” he says, (If dogs could talk) “That was Brownie from two blocks over, you know, Mrs. Johnson’s dog. I pooped on her lawn last week and you went ballistic?” He just looks goofy while you nod. “Yeah, well Brownie says your up here hanging out the window eating Peanut Butter sandwiches…. Huh, I said to Brownie… What do you know about that.”
“I saved you a bite,” You say and toss him half the sandwich. And he eats it whole. No swallowing… No choking. No chewing. Jaws open. Jaws close (Except sometimes with Peanut Butter when it sticks to the roof of their mouth.) and the half sandwich is gone. I’d like to see a cat do that.
Fred sits their and begs with dignity. She doesn’t want to appear to be needy. Bear (My last dog who has passed) couldn’t care less about dignity. If you go around sniffing butts all day as a form of greeting then dignity is a pretty large gray area. If you look at Fred she looks away like, “I thought I saw a mouse.” or “I’m only here because I love you…” Nevertheless, she begs and she expects a payoff and it better not be peanut butter. I often try to present my side of it, “All I have is peanut butter, Fred. You’re wasting your time.” She looks like, “Well, there’s a kitchen full of Bologna and Sliced Ham.” (Her favorite foods). And of course I’m not going out there just to get her a damned piece of Bologna No. So I go out to get a damn glass of juice, she follows, and then, somehow, she hypnotizes me and I’m opening the Ham package to get her some…
Cats and Dogs. They don’t mix, most of the time anyway, and people who are Cat people are not usually Dog people and vice versa. I am a dog person and really, someone should break the news to Fred because Fred thinks I’m a cat person.
Someday… In a perfect world… I will once again possess a dog… And the world will be perfect… And we’ll stand on the porch at dusk and watch the sun go down… Geez… It’ll be great… Just me and my dog…
Of course I’ll have to start with a puppy… And It’ll probably poop all over the house… And knowing my luck it’ll make friends with a cat… A pregnant cat… A pregnant cat that I thought was a boy cat… and then the whole vicious cycle will start all over again…
Last News: Earth’s Survivors: Plague. I have included the links to get it.