Monday, March 10, 2008

Deserty story thingy

I'm not really going to use this as a blog, more of a dump for any short stories I might write. The reason for this is partly to get me to write and partly so that I actually show people the stories. I'm very amateur, so don't expect too much (just yet), but if you like any of the stories (currently story) that's just great. So on to this story.

I had this pretty vivid idea for a setting that I kinda liked so I spun up a story around it. Ironically, I barely even describe the setting so this story probably is a bit hard to follow. Still, it's my first attempt at creative writing in about 3 or 4 years so it coulda gone a whole lot worse. It doesn't have a title so it sort of starts after this paragraph. I'm pretty aware of the major problems with it (namely it's too brief and the setting isn't really fleshed out) but any other constructive criticism is welcome. Anyway, on to the show:

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“What d'ye reckon we do about this one?” Jack said, scratching his thin arm. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Mighty fine vehicle on him...” He pronounced vehicle with three syllables.
The vehicle was still small through the binocular lenses, but not too small to make out. I clenched my jaw.
“Well?”
“Nothing. We do nothing.” I looked away, yawned, then sat back down in the sparse grass. A gnarled tree took the punishment meted out by the sun in my stead. From my clifftop perch, I could see hundreds of miles in every direction. Not that there was much to see anyway. The road divided the world neatly in two, disappearing off into the horizon both ways. The far half was a table spread with an old cloth, a tacky sandy coloured number with brown and green splotches on it. I lowered my head and picked at some grass absentmindedly.
CLICK. I looked up immediately. I made to get up, but couldn't. My mouth gaped, as useless as my legs.
BANG. That jolted me. I sprang up, walked the three steps to where Jack was lying, and kicked him square in the ribs. His face scrunched up and his eyes thinned to a razor edge. A dull clang sounded from below.
“Just what the hell d'yer mean by that?” he said, scrambling to his feet.
I stared down at him for ten full seconds. My forehead was dug into deepest furrows. Finally my expression relaxed. “I told you not to do that. You didn't listen to me.”
He spat by my feet, and shoved his face inches from mine. “I reckon you've been giving bad advice. I reckon we haven't had a good score like that in months. I reckon I listen to you, we both wind up dead.”
“It isn't advice.” I clenched and unclenched my fists rapidly. “It isn't advice.”
The corners of his mouth raised barely perceptibly. “I reckon we can sort this out friendly-like.” He backed away a bit, then crouched down slowly, feeling with his hands. “Real friendly-like.”
“It's not there,” I informed him, breathing slowly, “Your gun fell down the cliff.”
His eyes widened. “Friendly-like.”
“Do you know who you killed?” I said. “Governor Steinz. And do you know what that means?”
He swallowed visibly. “I reckon we can get away in that car down there.”
“I don't reckon we can.” I said. “You do realise that he was a paranoid man? That he had tracers installed on all his cars?”
Blue and red lights appeared on the horizon.
“Five minutes,” I said.
Jack turned and rushed this way and that, then started down the long, singular path leading below, before turning back abruptly. He sat down, his chest heaving. The heaves slowly subsided.
I sat under the shade of the tree, my jaw rivetted shut.
The blue and red lights had become toy cars, rolled quickly along the highway by an invisible toddler.
Jack lowered his head. For a while he stayed like that, then he looked up.
“Boss,” he said. “What we gonna do?”
I gazed at the ground in front of me. Every muscle in my body was tense.
“Boss!”
“I'm not your boss,” I said. “You didn't listen to me.”
“I'll listen now!”
“Jump,” I said.
His face became animal. He closed the small gap before I could react, and I was out cold.

My face was warm. It felt pleasant. My eyelids peeled back and my hand shot across my face automatically. I turned my head about, my mouth agape and eyebrows raised.
Then I remembered where I was.
My anger had faded, replaced by a calm resolve.
“A helicopter! And a million bucks. Or I ain't comin' down!” Jack was shouting over the edge of the cliff, his back turned to me. Why the hell was he negotiating? The question was raised then shuffled to the back of my brain immediately.
I walked slowly towards him, a faint smile touching my lips. I took a deep, satisfied breath as I reached him. I placed my hands firmly on his shoulders, and pushed.
I watched him, a broad grin on my face. It took less than a second. Disappointing, yet still satisfying enough. I sat down.

“He's here!”
I looked at the officer. My mouth was still pulled most of the way across my face. I giggled.
“We got you, sir!” He pulled on my elbow. I stood compliantly.
At the bottom of the cliff, I looked at my handiwork. Jack's rifle, right beside him, was a fitting tombstone.
“Sorry kid,” a portly officer was saying. Probably the chief. “He was gone when we got here. An ambulance is on the way, all the same.”
I looked unblinkingly at him, my eyebrows raised expectantly.
“You alright? Of course you aren't. Somebody give this kid a glass of damn water!” He slapped me on the back and walked off.
I drank the water greedily, looking left and right over the top of my glass. My eyes darted from face to face, finding nothing.
I frowned. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Actually, we were hoping you'd help us a bit with that. So Governor Steinz... well, you know. Then you rush to the top of the cliff? But he's still armed, and takes you hostage right?” The detective's pen scratched the small notebook violently. “Then eventually there's a struggle, you get the better of him?”
My mouth gaped. I looked at the ground in front of me. My hands hung limply at my side. I nodded. Then I looked him straight in the eye.
“Yeah. That's what happened.”
“Sorry about this crap. Just gotta get the particulars. In my book you deserve a damned medal.”
“Yeah. I'd say so.”
The chief returned. He stared at me, without smiling.
“He was holding the gun when the struggle took place?”
“Yes.” My face was a block of granite.
The chief put his hand to his chin for a moment. He continued to stare at me.
“Hmph,” he eventually concluded. His expression brightened. “Well, we better take you back in to town, hadn't we?”
“Thanks,” I said, stifling a sigh.
“No problem,” he said. “No problem, Mr Steinz.”



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Well done if you got through that. Expect more crap whenever I feel like it.

EDIT: I went through the whole damn thing making sure paragraphs were indented and then when I posted it all that got taken out. Makes it kinda hard to read sorry about that.