Well the end of what seems like an era is at hand, this is the final chapter of book one of Green Sunday. I do have a planned sequel that could spin out into a series, we’ll just have to see how well this does on amazon or if someone picks it up. But I enjoyed writing it as much as I enoyed reading the comments I got on facebook and the glowing reviews I got on inkitt for such a silly ass book haha.
This has been a growing experience for me in my life and in my writing. I feel like I’ve already taken the first steps into a new world and I’m really excited about the new stuff I’m working. This is the beginning of something really great for me and there’s nowhere to right now but up.
I’m editing the first chapter of the novella I’m working on today, so I should have that up as soon as tuesday, maybe earlier. Then I’ll get it up on inkitt and see what the folks there think of it.
I just wanted to give a big thanks to people who read this blog and people who enjoy and support my writing today and in the years to come.
As usual you can read the full chapter absolutely free on inkitt by following this link; Game Over
Helicopter blades span slow. Giant straight blender blades whipping up the thin air. Making it as thick as eggs and cream allowing the helicopter to climb – Laura thought to herself as the large ex-military chopper lumbered into flight. The chandelier inside adding maybe another metric tonne. Ensuring a luxurious but unhurried flight.
Laura sat in the co-pilots seat securely fastened and with a headset on for full effect. She smiled at Carpenter who leaned over her seat, the gun on the headrest pointing sideways at Nigel. The aging pilot seemingly attempting an escape by sea, gradually filling the cockpit with sweat.
Carpenter erected a toothy grin feeling somewhat like a pirate, an air pirate. Riding into the wind, to freedom or death. What’s the difference he thought as he squeezed the head rest and rapped his fingers across the handle of the gun. Feeling a dramatic swelling, like he could hear ride of the Valkyries. And just over the those snow capped mountains rested a Vietcong rice paddy just waiting for a lick of fresh napalm.
A monitor glowed in a dark room. The image panned back on a small town gunstore with a what seemed like a mosaic pattern of blood and bones out the front. A tapestry of offel and brain matter spread over about a ten foot area radiating out.
“Well at least he paid in advance” Murray said with a wry choking laugh, choked off entirely by a stern searching glance from Evergreen.
“Indeed” Evergreen sighed.
“Well you know he signed a contract, what are we gonna tell his helicopter pilot?” Murray quickly tapped away at his personal monitors keyboard. “That reminds me, the team guarding it haven’t reporting in. Err- going on fifteen minutes now, should I send another?”.
Evergreen gave a small breathy laugh and seemed to suck the inside of his cheek. “Hnh no, I’ll go, I need the excercise”. With that he opened the mobile command centre’s door and stepped out into the bright noonday sun. Allowing it to penetrate the perfect dark of the little mobile mancave.
Murray called after him, his voice trailing off as he sat alone in the half dark “HEY YOU MIND!- closing the do- ass”
“tj-TJ-tj…..TJ!” A girl’s voice phased in and out, accompanied by an annoying ringing noise.
“I can hear you.” TJ said as he clicked his jaw and held his head. It felt like a balloon full of cracked drywall and every word sent sharp shards of pain throughout his skull. “Shit, did something explode?”
“Err, I don’t think so, you just hit your head.” Sunday said, her face blurred, then became focussed then blurred again. TJ gave up and just looked at the pavement trying to stop his head from spinning.
“I think I’m gonna throw up” He said as his breathing became long and laboured.
“At least you’re not dead” She said with what he could hear was a wry corner mouth smile.
“I feel like that would be an upgrade.” He said wincing as he put his hand on the pavement to lever the weight of his mighty girth.
“Big baby” Sunday said, punctuating it with a breathy bitter guffaw.
TJ lifted himself up onto two shakey feet and looked down at Sunday. She stretched out on a large broken no entry sign on the sidewalk like it was a beach towel.
He turned towards her and blinked a couple of times and put his hand out to her. She swivelled around in her lounging position to look up at him. Her hair was still that messy shock of toxic green. A little more matted and dirty with dry blood and good old fashioned dirt.
“M’lady” TJ said tipping an ironic invisible fedora in Sunday’s general direction.
Sunday squinted, turning her eyes into two sharp slits and shook her head smiling. She batted his chubby hand away like a playful kitten leaving its claws out. “I think I’m good” She said as she signed and made the painful ascent onto two legs. Dusting herself off completely unaware how like a Saturday morning cartoon character she looked. “What?”
“It’s gonna be dark soon, this town is gonna be swarming with mercs”
“Sweep and clear.” Sunday gave TJ a knowing glance but after no discernible nod of the head or recognition. She went on; “They’re gonna burn the whole town to the fucking ground. Round up the remaining survivors”.
“And make them ‘un-survivors’”
“There can’t be any witnesses”
“But you said it was streaming live”
“On the deep web.” Sunday paused, tapping her heels together, thinking no place like home undoubtedly.
“Hah?” TJ actually scratched his head.
“Didn’t we go over this already, the deep web, it’s like err- you know”
“It’s like the dark side of the internet that can’t be reached with a regular search engine. Child porn, hitmen, drugs, slavery, live murder, and now this shit”
“So only a select group of sick fucks can see this. Sick rich pricks, dumb kids with more time than smarts. Regular perverts, criminals, gangsters, you know, not the fucking pta”
“Err I don’t get it”
“The point is they’re not the kind of people that would turn states evidence. Who would believe them anyway? ‘Err excuse Mr policeman. Err there’s a reality tv show on the deep web that fills a town with zombies and films it for bitcoins”. Sunday said in a mocking imitation of TJ’ voice holding up her fingers in a faux telephone shape. A patronizing smirk sealed onto her face. “No one gets out alive”
“What about you?”
“It’s different with me. They kept me, and a few others alive because this is a show, and shows need ‘characters’. It needs some kind of a plot, a story, drama. It can’t just be a bunch of people running around doing ‘stuff’. It has to have some progression, someone to root for, someone to watch die. It’s like any other tv show.” Sunday sucked the bottom of her lip after using air quotes twice in a single rant.
“But it kinda was just a bunch of stuff happening”
“If people are watching us. Enough people give us likes or clicks or votes or whatever, they let us go on into the next stage.”
“This is so fucked!”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed”
“Shit” TJ looked down, squeezing his double chin.
“Who wants to watch some fat kid kill zombies badly and shit his pants? My youtube career was exactly souring. People just tuned in to laugh at me.” TJ pointed his chin and sighed. “I got more death and rape threats than Anita Sarkeesian”
“Don’t give me that shit! What are you fishing for compliments like some Instagram camwhore? That could save you. There might be a huge demographic of people who want to keep you alive just to watch you do a Mellissa McCarthy impression, split your pants and shit. You could even have a goofy catchphrase like ‘That’s gonna leave a mark!’”
“Yeah she sucks and people love her”
“Her one joke is just falling over while fat, that could be you”
“Yeah you’re right” Tj mused on it further before shaking his head like a mini truffle shuffle. “No fuck that we’re gonna get out of here, you’ll see, there’s a way out, I know there is!”.
“There’s no way they could know about them. That guy kept them super lowkey, they’re not on any map, or blueprint. He built it all using his own guys, he was crazy paranoid, didn’t want anyone to know they existed. Only me and a few other kids even knew it existed.”
“Yeah you already told me. So why don’t we get the fuck out of here before some roided up merc puts a black leather size nine up our asses?” Sunday yawned picking up a parking meter and tossing it over her shoulder.