Beyond the Black (Nano/1800 words)

[jaxx6166]

*EDIT*

These are rough edit preview chapters. For the complete work, please visit page 2 and download the current full version.

[dreams]

I'll steal your words, "Weird. Freaky." And I love it.. So, now, I'm really curious.. does he end up as the main course on the menu? (Hey, you never know.... sometimes the character is killed in a book, show, or movie...)

[jaxx6166]

Nope. It's too early for the hero to die. Below is Ch 2 in all its unedited glory.

"Edited" in this sense means not spell checked or grammatically correct. All attempts are made to present as clean an image as possible of a world gone mad. Naughty words are edited out. Reading this you agree that you will not let the author offend you by way of foul body odor or flesh eatting humans. =)

[jaxx6166]

So this is part one. I'm doing my best to cover the cuss words for you guys =)

Part two can be added too if you want.

[ShortNCuddlyAm]

Originally Posted by jaxx6166

Part two can be added too if you want.

I want

[jaxx6166]

As you wish =)

[dreams]

Nice positive, “There’s a ten in twenty shot we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

[jaxx6166]

= )

I liked that one myself. It was probably one of my better one liners.

[jaxx6166]

This is supposed to be the big reveal chapter. This is where the hero finds out where he really is. For those that have been following the thread and know the real setting of the story - this one's for you.

I'm not a fan of the info dump, but I figure it comes at around 75+ pages in and maybe would be a good time just to let it out. If you have a better idea for how to present the material, please help!

Let me know if the whole scene works or not. Thanks =)

Spoiler:

They met for dinner. And there was steak. The tenderness and taste was suspect, but it was still steak. Glorious, bloody steak. It was the first real meal he had since the crash.

Lag came in alone. She dressed up, got all gussied up for him. The flame in her hair died to embers. Angry spikes now hung down in loose flowing locks. The bandana was gone. She wore a clean shirt of crisp linen. A green sash cinched at the waist. Sarge eyed the two daggers suspiciously. The steel was polished and the jewels sparkled in the candle light. She stood at the doorway a moment. The ruffles on her shirt danced madly in the breeze.

She shut the door and the wind died away to silence. The dance stopped.

“So, who are you?” Sarge asked, after dinner.

“I told you that already. You know my name.”

“I know your name. But I don’t know who you are.”

“I could say the same to you, soldier.” Lag tipped her glass.

“Round here, they just call me Sarge.”

“And what do they call you round there?” She looked up towards the heavens, studying the knots in the pine ceiling.

“I don’t get it.”

“Don’t play coy with me soldier. Look at you. You’re not - natural. How is that arm doing by the way?”

“Fine.” It hurt like hell. He knew the flesh was putrefying. He could feel gangren setting in.

“You really should have the medicos look into that, I think you’ve got a nasty little infection. And I don’t want to cut you down when you go all tooth and claw on me and mine.”

“It’s fine.” Sarge took the napkin and wrapped it around his arm. “See?” The wound oozed a strange viscous oil. It didn’t take long for the pus to fill the cloth. It soaked through, turning the crisp white into a fetid green.

“So - who are you?” She asked again, forcefully.

“Just Sarge.”

She sighed. “Very well, Mr. Montgomery. Sarge it is.”
“How did you?”

“Know? Your tag is sewn to your uniform. Come on. I’m not that stupid.”

He looked down, didn’t see the nameplate.
Again with the sigh. “Inseam, three quarters down. Right side. It’s standard
military issue. From up top.”

Sarge blinked, speachless. He gave it his best. Didn’t want her to see his surprise. He studied the room, eyeing the lush red drapes. They hung loose against windows that looked out into an endless expanse of nothing. The cross bars had long since warped, twisting against the grimy glass.

“Mr. Montgomery - welcome to America. Minus twenty.”

Sarge reached for the bottle, shook it and chugged.

“Easy there.” She took the bottle, poured him a glass and kept the leftovers.
“It’s going to be a long night if you keep drinking like that.”

“What are you?”

“I’m just as lost as you.” She sighed. “I’m a halfling. I walk between the worlds. The humans won’t look at me, the Selachai don’t trust me. The Altered just want to eat me. But, they want to eat anything - which brings me back to your hand…How long has it been?”

“Couple days. Maybe. Give or take. What’s a Selachai?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I asked.”

“Think Godzilla with brains. Big as you and I. Sometimes taller. They’ve got their own little settlements out here in the black. They’re pretty harmless, as long as you’re not human or half breed. I guess I see their point though, I mean - all they want is their land and their life back. I mean, imagine if we settled on Mars. Met a bunch of pissed off Martians. Why are they pissed? Well, they don’t like the way you look. They don’t want you to try to talk down to them, to make them seem inferior. They’re smart too, right? And they’d been living here long before we even heard of their planet. Kind of like what we did with the Indians way back when. Ya know.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“That’s one way of putting it. You look like an idiot. Please close your mouth. If for no other reason than to not drip brandy all over my nice new couch.”
Sarge tipped back the glass, tasting the bittersweet liquid. It stopped the room from spinning.

“You’re not the only one to wake up here on accident. We all did. Well, not we.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “You’re a military man. Does the term ‘Omega Project’ sound familiar?” She sniffed the liquid and smiled sweetly.

He knew the term. Tried not to let on. His eyes found the floor, he studied the rug and counted the threads. It all blurred into one big mess. He gave up and sighed, nodding agreement to her question.

“I thought so. Most soldiers usually do. I’m actually surprised you lasted this long.”

Sarge needed more booze. He reached for the bottle, pulled the stop with a pop. He tossed the crystal to the floor and put the bottle to his lips. It was old, and warm. It dripped down his throat and calmed his nerves. It eased his mind. The booze burned as it went down, the taste held for a while. Like caramel dipped apples. He thought of home.

“What, you thought you were the first? No, sweetie. And you certainly won’t be the last either. I don’t know if it’s because youre smarter than the rest, or stupider. Somehow you managed to get yourself so wrapped up into this place. Getting you out is going to be a bitch and a half.”

“How do you know about the Project? It’s classified.”

She took a sip from the glass. “Oh sweetie.” She laughed. “I don’t know which story you’ll buy.”

“Humor me.” He grunted.

“Well, it’s amazing what you can get a soldier to say when hot steel is shoved into holes they never thought they had.”

He cocked his eyebrow.

She snickered and poured another glass.

“I’ll die before I speak.” He muscles flexed, corded.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Try me.” Sarge stood up, bending low. He bladed himself. “I thought you were SS. But you’re no mutant I’ve ever seen before. Where’s your handler? The Rules allow me to speak with your human master before we battle.”

She felt her gut spasm, she bit down on her cheek. She drew blood. “Don’t make me laugh. Please. I’ll yack.”

Sarge felt stupid. Didn’t quit his resolve. “Your handler. Now.”

“You’re kidding right. You think I’m an enemy combatant? Do I look like a mutant to you? Wait - don’t answer that.”

“I demand a parlay.”

“There’s one way in and no way out of this shit hole. Trust me, even if we wanted to live on the surface, there’s no way out of this place. You’re pretty much stuck here. I’d be willing to bet that just about everyone in this bubble has no clue where we even are. I’m pretty sure the Selechai would die if they ever got a taste of fresh air. Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Okay. Look. Enough with this bullshit. What’s going on? Where the hell am I?”

“I told you. Yea. I definately think it’s stupidity that’s kept you alive this long. Welcome to America. Twenty years ago.”

“This doesn’t look like the America I knew.”

She looked at him, “Babe, you couldn’t have been out of diapers when the Project was tested.”

Sarge felt reveleation wash over him. It came in waves, made him dizzy. Made him naseuous. The cold clarity of it all made his knees buckle. He fell into his chair, weak and numb. The Project was the last chance of salvation. It existed in only three places that he knew of. He read the studies, listened to the lectures. His family had helped design one of the ecosystems. It was supposed to be the last chance civilization had in a world gone mad. The Project was fired up as a last ditch effort to save mankind. It needed more testing. Studies had shown it wasn’t perfected. It was a disaster.

Omega launched at the start of the Twenty Year War. When Russia detonated their nuclear missiles, destroying the polar ice caps. The seas rose and swallowed cities whole. The landscape of the world was forever changed. Millions died.

Or were supposed to.

“So. So it worked?” Sarge said, baffled.

“Like a charm, babe.”

“Then all these people?”

“American patriots. The whole damn lot of ‘em.”

“And you are?”

“The side effect. Just like the Selechai. And the Affected.”

“So this is?”

“NAS Jacksonville. Welcome home, soldier.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Booze will do that.” She got up, started towards the door. “Go lay down. You look seasick.”

The door slammed shut, its thud echoed into infinity.

[jaxx6166]

Editing continues slowly. Much slower than I thought it would

I had hoped to have a serviceable arc available to MR as a holiday present to everyone who cared or cheered on those of us that burned midnight oil for Nano.

But, that's not happening.

If I get super lucky and find time, I may at least have something available by the end of next week....no promises though.

[dreams]

Originally Posted by jaxx6166

Editing continues slowly. Much slower than I thought it would

I had hoped to have a serviceable arc available to MR as a holiday present to everyone who cared or cheered on those of us that burned midnight oil for Nano.

But, that's not happening.

If I get super lucky and find time, I may at least have something available by the end of next week....no promises though.

I'll be patient while you finish the edits to make it be the story you want it to be.

Within the span of minutes, Drew’s belly popped open and two grilled cheese sandwiches were sitting on the ledge.

And when I buy a copy do I get to have my very own Drew?

[jaxx6166]

I may be able to hook you up with your very own Drew. I'd probably have to take him out of the book though, mainly because I don't like him and his deus ex machina.

[dreams]

Originally Posted by jaxx6166

I may be able to hook you up with your very own Drew. I'd probably have to take him out of the book though, mainly because I don't like him and his deus ex machina.

Well, you could always have him short out and die after a few more grilled cheese sandwiches.

[jaxx6166]

Or he could short out and then have them cook grilled cheese on his smoldering carcass. Man, I'm twisted. lol.

[jaxx6166]

Bump.

Excerpt posted at first post. I tried to change the title of the thread, but I guess that doesn't work.