Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Count Down

Rachael woke up with a sick feeling in her gut as she lifted up her head as saw a pipe wrench not far away that was covered with blood. Sparks popped around her. She pushed her hair out of her face it was wet and grimy. What happened? She couldn’t remember but she had a sense of urgency.

She had to get away, far, far away.

She was up on her hands before she looked behind her at a pile of junk that ran down her waist swallowing everything behind it.

The bulkhead must have collapsed. She thought. Though she wasn’t sure; everything swam in a thick dizziness.

Everything confused her. She grabbed the floor with her hands and pulled. God it hurt!

She pulled again; she began to feel a prickly throbbing in her legs. She had to get out. She had to get away, that was all she knew.

She suddenly felt a dull pinching like a needle going into her leg. She mopped her forehead with her sleeve. Put her hands on the floor again and pushed with all her might the dull pinch became more intense then released as she slid out from under the rubble. Rachael sat there trying to catch her breath.

Her legs began to seriously throb, though one leg hurt more than the other. She pulled herself into a sitting position. As she did she realized the right pant leg was torn and her leg was covered in blood that was pooling at her foot. Blood was pooling out of a hole in her leg. She tore the rest of her pant leg off and grabbed a small piece of pipe making a turnacit.

She cried out as she twisted the pipe on final time and tied it off. Her head was clearing a bit. This would make it harder to walk if she was going to get out of here she had to book it.

Catching her breath her eyes focused the hole she had pulled herself out of. Inside was a large metal pipe twisted at an angle colored in a crimson that dripped in a pool below. She moved towards the part of the bulk head that didn’t collapse. She took a deep breath and readied herself. This was it.

Grabbing one of the eye beams she began to pull herself up on her good leg. She began to feel nauseous and light headed. She stopped half way up. It was then that she heard as sound, a blip of some sort. She looked over at a screen in the other room. There it was again. She looked in the other room. A large screen in the other room flashed large numbers in red. 60… 59…

The countdown! She gritted he teeth and pulled herself up. Steadying herself on the eyebeam again. Her leg was already pins and needles. She tried out her wounded leg and nearly fell. She looked around the room. In on the far side of the rubble was a mop. She lowered herself to the floor again and skootched herself across the floor toward the mop.

The station suddenly shook and rocked a few times. Rachael began to get a feeling of disorientation, be vertigo maybe? It was then she realized the ceiling was getting closer. Looking around the room was more and more filled with debris. She waited to get within range of the ceiling and then kicked off at an angle towards the door. She then covered her head. She hit a few things one before she found the doorway. Grabbing a hold of the door frame she kicked off again and down the C curved hallway. Fire burned along the ceiling, The nitrogen scrubbers were still working.

Rachael’s heart beat faster and faster. She was nearly to the end of the hall when the station rocked again. She heard the hiss of the door ahead of her. She began to feel something primal and animal like rise up from the core of her being; it was all she could do to stave it off. Getting to the door She grabbed the bit of frame that was available while it was shut.

Pinching the edges she pulled herself down and forced herself to punch characters with one hand onto the screen beside the door. Looking over the rec. room beyond the door chairs, sports equipment and foosball tables floated absently but she didn’t see any visible breaches.

There was a flash of flame outside that disappeared like liquid nitrogen out of a fire extinguisher. Bending below the screen she punched in some breakaway glass and pulled a lever and the door hissed open. One more room to go but the rec. room was large. She would have to aim for a table and hope she could push off from there.

Sweat burned her eyes. She cursed and wiped her forehead. She grabbed the door way and pushed off again aiming straight for the table. The tornaqette cloth on her leg was red and gummy. The table began to drift away from her as she was moving closer to it.

“No!” She shouted.

Rachael slid under the foosball table as her momentum slowed. She was halfway across the room. There were several flashes brighter than the last ones. The station rocked more violent than before, the bulkhead rocked and groaned in protest. Rachael fell and hit the ground hard on her hurt leg.

She cried out as she looked at a large object hurling at her. She tumbled in a ball landing again on her bad leg. The giant leg of a foosball table landed on her splayed hair and bounced hitting the C curved wall and landing upright gain. She was pelted by various sports equipment. She cried as she held her leg up above the torniquette.

Rachael heard a familiar blip. Looking up a video panel on the far wall she could see the countdown again, 30...29…

She slid herself as fast as she could to the foosball table and tried to pull herself up. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw something bright and yellow. She turned and saw an empty over turned mop bucket. She grabbed a few tennis racket s and scotched over to the bucket throwing the rackets in the bucket she pulled it back to the foosball table. Wincing she pulled herself up leaning on her good leg. She felt light headed. Grabbing the tennis rackets she sat down in the bucket and pushed herself toward the door pushed and clutter aside that she could with the rackets. Coming to the door she hit the button and the door hissed open.

Beyond was another hall similar to the last but at the end was an observation port at the end was an open door. “Wait!” She yelled. The hall was filled with the loud noise of the countdown.

15…14… She sped down the hall as fast as she could. The shuttle door was open. Her face was covered with sweat she paddled forward everything inside was filled with exhilaration and anxiety. Just then there was a violent shaking of the station, she heard the boom and the dreadful silence that cut it off and knew there was a hull breach somewhere.

Sweat poured down her back like a cold river. The station tilted toward the door and she felt herself rolling at an alarming speed toward the shuttle door. She was twenty feet and closing. She was within ten feet when the door hissed shut. The Station tilted in the opposite direction and her bucket slid back down the hall away from the ship. She felt an icy coldness over her entire body as she reached fumbled and dropped one. Throwing the other she reached out with her hands and stopped herself. Gritting her teeth she tipped the bucket taking care to land on her side.

She couldn’t feel anything in her legs. In spite of the drunken feeling in her legs she pushed on pulling herself along with her hands. She made it to the observation platform. Pulling herself up to the window she banged on the glass. There was Sherman, sweaty mopping his brow. She felt a feeling of hatred rise up from her gut but couldn’t remember why.

She hammered on the window in desperation. Wait, he saw her. Yes he was looking straight at her. Rachael looked at him with teary eyes as he turned the other way from her. Was he telling someone? It was then she felt the thrust that rocked the station. She grabbed the bulkhead like a mad woman. She wanted to laugh, this wasn’t happening! How could it. It was then she remembered. That fat bastard had gone with her to hit the shuttle overrides when they couldn’t clear the Station umbilicus. He had left her there then he was leaving her here now.

She suddenly saw pictures of her on earth as a child. She was playing in a wagon with her sister. Then story time with her mother. Jeremy Callow her High School prom date she thought she would marry. Then Marcus the night they had been married, how he had always made her feel safe in his arms.

Rachael wept bitter tears which changed into a deep heart ache for him, for Marcus. Who would comfort him, who would comfort his suffering when she was gone? It was then that she felt a overwhelming peace inside like when her mother would wrap her up in a blanket and cold her while she cried comforting her; rocking her to sleep.

Rachael let out a sigh. “Goodbye Marcus.”

In the shuttle Saratoga a man with redrummed eyes cut them across the aisle at a chubby man who mopped his upper lip gazed out the window. Then stopped a touched a purple blotch on his cheek bone.

There was a flash of light and a flash of silver from the tiny ship as it sped out of sight.

In the nakedness of space a silent star that shone in the darkness. Then a bright flash of light and silence.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Weeping Rain

The rain comes down in sheets.

Beneath a sooty

Rooftop a howl echoes.

It’s meant for me.

I stand on the flat roof

Looking at lamp lit streets below,

Fear pours into my belly,

Like an icy stream from the mountains.

My hands shake

Under my wet cloak.

I pour my powder into my Wheelock pistols,

Leaning my readied rifle on my knee,

Like a centurion preparing for war.

How I wish I had a friend.

A woman’s scream sounds in the distance,

Not long now,

I tamp a wad and silver pellet,

Fasten my Wheelock pistols at either side,

Raising my rifle, cocking the hammer I wait,

A rock dove skitters in flight as I aim

In its direction,

The sniffing of an animal rises from

The alley below,

My hand shakes,

A howl cuts through the air,

Slicing through my nerves,

The rifle slips,

A thunderous reply answers the beast,

I curse,

My ears ring,

Pulling at my pistols I cock them and wait,

I say a silent prayer

Aiming my pistols

At the door,

A beam securely acrossed it in the rain,

I smell him before I see him,

Musky wet dog,

The beam snaps at the first blow,

A wet snarl snaps at me

From behind the splintered frame,

Wood showers at me,

A giant wolf at me leaps,

The crack of the first shot splits the air,

The beast yelps,

Leaping into my chest,

I land hard,

Sucking for air and getting none,

I am a man smothering in thick wet darkness,

Snapping teeth and claws search for me,

My hand is twisted on itself,

I can’t feel it,

The second shot goes off,

The ringing is now very loud,

The weight of the beast lifts off of me,

I reach out like a drowning man for shore,

A sharp pain shoots in my arm,

I feel the pop,

When something heavy lands on it,

I turn and look upon my fate,

Instead before my wild eyes,

Like ice, the beast melts into

Form of a young man,

With my foot I roll him over,

A gathering pool of crimson surrounds us both,

My shirt is warm

A metallic tang fills my nose,

He coughs and spits red,

I hold his hand with my good hand,

He tries to speak,

His eyes are blinded by rain,

Mine with fever,

In a picture in my mind,

Long ago,

I see a young boy, like him,

And happier me,

We laugh,

The sun shines,

I kick at the leaves beneath my feet,

The sun is bright on our faces,

I tossle his hair,

The rain is heavy,

He doesn’t see my tears,

He squeezes my hand,

He cries out and lets go,

My boy, my boy,

My dear sweet boy.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Enter Night


When I rolled into oblivion it was like falling in a bone carriage,

Charging quickly down the grey road,

Or inky black like a quill tip settled into the realm of eternal night.

Oh, how I long for the wide range, the echoing red canyon,

The deep frothy rapids at its base,

The wet smell of lilac in spring,

The sound of whipping winter winds in the warm pine groves,

The hush of the air across white capped mountains.

The deep red spills across the mountains,

In the sky to the east, blue becomes a sea of dark,

A carriage takes me far, far into a night without moon or stars,

I bang against the door,

Watching the sun set behind me.

Friday, September 16, 2011

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

I'd like to take a moment to do something I don't usually do which is promote someone else. I would like to promote http://www.goodreads.com . This website is a great website to keep track of the books you're reading, books you've read, as well as finding new books you might be interested in. What's more this site gives you links to buy books you have been interested in and just haven't been able to find anywhere or anywhere for a cheap price.
You can write reviews on books you've read, invite you're friends to join and share books you think they may like. Being an avid reader I find this to be an invaluable source.
The best part about this site is its easy to join.

p.s. If you are a Science Fiction/Fantasy lover like me but are as picky about your books as I am I recommend the readers group: Beyond Reality.

Friday, September 9, 2011

The Secret Love of Zeb Goodman

Zeb Goodman gets his son to write a poem
to a woman who he secretly loves

Your love is like the water

That fills my shoes on a rainy day,

With a squish, squish, squish,

Your love is like a friend I would

Share my last cookie with,

Though I'd take most of the frosting,

Your love is like a crying sister

Whose face I don't squeeze

Even though I want to,

Your love is like a dad

Who buys me ice cream

after a bad day.

Friday, August 19, 2011

A Winnowing Sea of Green



A Hawk of brown and snowy white

Chased its shadow over the thick

Rolling hill,

That cast deep frowning shadows,

On a thick,

Dark,

Sea of Green.

Dry, swirling, smoky paths

Embraced hill

After smoking hill

And off in the distance

The bright shining sea

Sparkled like an endless jewel

Embracing the sky just upon

the horizon.





Tuesday, August 9, 2011

On The Bivouac

Resting quietly by the sea shore Templeton reviewed his journal.

"Why don't you put that thing away and give us a tune." Honry said. Templeton felt the heat of the glowing stick that few past his ear. This was followed up by men's laughter.

" I'm afraid I don't work that way." Templeton said rubbing his ear.

Honry walked across to him in three giant steps and stood over him. "Too good for the rest of us blokes huh? Well out in the Bivouac there isn't any higher-ups other than the Sergent and he's a busy man. I suggest you make real good with the blokes over there." He said nodding to the other men across the fire.
" You may be depending on them one day soon and nobody likes someone whose stuck up."

"I'll be over momentarily, Templeton said. Scratching away with his quill.
Honry kicked Templeton's ink bottle on his paper. There was the sound of more laughter.

Templeton pulled back quickly bowing the paper to keep it from spilling onto his blanket.

"Enough Honry, he isn't interested." The Sergent said. If you have that much time on your hands you can see to watering the horses. Honry paused over Templeton.

"Go on." Honry smiled cruelly looking at Templeton. "Your saved this time Ami." Reaching out he pinched Templeton who clenched his teeth. Honry released him and sauntered off.

Templeton rubbed his arm and looked at the men around the fire. " Hey Ami, you play cards?" One of them asked. He was an older fellow with a scar across his left cheek that made it sag sadly on his face.
Templeton continued to rub his arm, it still smarted. He lifted his arm and looked on a reddening bruise . He rolled his sleeve down.

"I've been known to play around or two."


Tuesday, August 2, 2011

A new leaf.

After reading a blog by Mike Duran about becoming self absorbed in one's own work, I realized that I was guilty. I have been concerned with my own blog and not really considered other peoples blogs on the blogging chain I have been a part of for almost a year now. So I'm endeavoring to share more than just my prose on this site from here on.
I will share some some ideas on things I read and try and get some feedback from some of you. I'll still post prose but I will also try and add some things going on in my life as well or a book review or something in hope that maybe some of you could share some of your ideas; or at least get the word out there of some other peoples works that I have enjoyed and that perhaps you might enjoy too.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Mindwave sat on the bunk of his dark cell quietly. Inside he smiled. He rubbed the back of his newly trimmed hair and over his clean shaven face. The smell of aftershave burned his nose, how long had it been since he used it? " Pretty good." He thought looking down at his blue jumper. The face of his enemy entered his mind. Captain Liberty. He could see the smug look on Liberty's face. Mindwave smiled to himself at all the times he had thought of killing Liberty. What a waste.

He wouldn't kill Liberty, he'd ruin him. He'd take away everything Liberty had ever loved. He'd make Liberty desperate. Desperate people did stupid things. In the end he would let Liberty unravel his own life. Mindwave leaned against the wall and lifted his butt up and pulled his release papers out from under his bed.

He glanced at them and the letter that came along with it.Not long now. He put his hands behind his head and smiled.

Monday, June 20, 2011

As they stepped into the wood they were greeted by silence. Oaks were covered with lush green mosses and greenly gray ones that looked like ancient beards. The oaks themselves were gnarled and twisted, low branches grabbed at their packs and loose clothing. It was dark with the sound of occasional dripping.

" Watch your footing," Harath said. He kicked a rusted sword out of the path. Several in thier party spat on the ground repeatedly. Andor and Roarke threw salt over their shoulders.

" What is this place?" Talis said.

" Battle ground," Urwellion said. Talis gripped his sword tightly and swallowed hard and wondered why he came.

Mindor watched his companions and laughed silently.

"You don't take to super... their beliefs?" Datalis corrected himself.

Mindor gave him a sideways glance," Why should I? I put my confidence in cold steel and quick wits. That is all I need," He said.

" You don't think their could be a sword out there with your name on it? " Datalis said.

" So what if there is, I cannot avoid the Grey Man forever." With that Mindor walked away.

After some time the path changed to switchbacks and flattened out a bit. The trees were taller and spread apart opening into a canopied grove " We'll take a brake here," Harath said. After which he heaved his pack down as did others.
A few feet on was a dried out leaf covered stream, by the stream was part of a large moss covered wall. In the middle was the remains of a tower with thick mossy stones piled around it.

"What is that?" Datalis said. He pointed to the ruins.

"Ariel tower," Andor said cutting off a bit of dried fish with a cruel looking knife.

" Who lived there?" Talis said.

"Those who lived in the city below. In their the golden age of their empire," Tendleton said.

"What happened?" Datalis said.

Tendleton opened his mouth but was interrupted by Harath who gave him a cold stare. " It's bad luck to talk about battles in woods of Ariel. This is better saved for another time."

" How long before we hit Blythwood?" Datalis said. Changing the subject. Datalis looked around, everyone rested and took some water. Most had their hands on their swords or looked in the darker parts of the wood some distance off.

Tendleton opened his pack and fished out a leather tube. He pulled the lid of of one end and hit the other end of the tube and out slid a map. Tendleton bit down on a bit of dried meat thoughtfully and spread out the map before them. He pointed to a set of switch backs up the peak called Ashren and stopped at a waterway in the head of one of the switch backs further up the map. " It's two miles up to Brathon Creek which as you know is the headwaters of the great Brathon-Alion that flows..."

" Tell him what comes after that Tendle, no one wants to hear about the head waters of Brathon. Mindor said.

Tendleton shrugged, " I just thought the boy..."

" Well I don't want to hear it."Mindor belted.

" After that we come to Blythwood." Tendleton stopped. Everyone nodded silently.

A few replied, "Aye, aye," quietly.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

The Mountains surrounded the northern city like a looming shadow. The thick white peaks were contrasted by thick black forests that hugged the mountains below. Once out of the main city, the group of travelers spoke less. The air was hot and sticky. The flies were irritating. No matter how far they seemed to go the neighboring streets went on endlessly.

When would they get to the mountain pass?
Talis thought. He voiced his frustration to Datalis who pointed out the sparseness of the people and how the streets were narrowing. Now that Talis looked he could see guards giving way to a soldier now and then. The delicious smells of cooking meat and the sweet smells of perfumes gave way to more wild smells. Musky, herbal smells of dry grasses. The mountains were getting closer. It looked darker, steeper, and more threatening.

The people on the streets were quieter. Only Datalis and Harath spoke now and in hushed tones. They pointed to the peaks and then down at a map that both tried to hold steady in the light fluttering breeze. Steadily the ridges seemed to be getting closer, closing in around them. The streets were getting narrower and steeper.

Talis took a long swig of water. Datalis gave him a firm but kind look, "Make it last."
Finally the streets became silent all together. At the end of a narrow street stood large gate in the middle of a stone wall all that could be seen beyond was the looming peaks. From small stone house beside the gate came three heavily armored guards. The tallest was seven feet tall.

Harath went forward by himself " We seek passage through the northern gate. The two guards behind the tall guard opened the gate without another word. The heavy wooden door groaned on its hinge. Beyond this Talis saw old cobblestone streets. The houses outside the gate were made of stone. Each was surrounded by similar walls as the one that surrounded the city. At the end of the cobble stone street was a trail that sloped up and disappeared into the dark wood.
This was the passage of Rimhorn Gap.

The idea of adventure and excitement dropped like melting snow from a roof into an icy ball in the bottom of Talis's stomach. Harath lead them through without a word. The fortified outskirts of town were smothered with a thick silence. Not even the sound of a bird. Talis came last of all through the gate. he felt a heavy gust of wind as the gate slammed shut behind him. He heard it lock. It felt like the final nail in a coffin, there was no going back now.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Introduction

It started with entering a English class that was creative writing, now I wanted to write short stories. The teacher was trying to let some of us go since the class was too full. Well the first half of the semester was poetry and the second part of the class was short story. My attitude for poety at this time was one of melodrama of eccentic people living on the edge of society; I nearly dropped out right then. What I had discovered was that not all poets are strange outcasts on the edge of society. My teacher was a big fan of Ezra Pound, who translated some Chinese poetry which was pretty cool. I was a little distressed to find out he was into Italian Nazism. His life exited on a sad note, this was after a emotonal breakdown after being interrogated by the Americans after the war. What I wanted to do was write fantasy. My Professor was more than a little deterrant in me writing Science Fiction and Fantasy poetry and short stories. However I found out he was fond of Lord of the Rings, so I wrote a poem on Beren and Luthien. He absolutely loved it,(Eccept for a few corrections of course.) but I had my pass for writing creatively , I have been doing so since then. I have about ten poems about Tolkiens first age of Middle-Earth covered by his book The Silmarillion. I also have a little more than a full years worth of synapsis of stories about a group of superheroes starting out in a fledgling world of superheroes apart from earth proper. I am also concidering publishing my series of short stories based on the very same group of superheroes I am planning on writing comic books about.