Fires at Midnight

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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JayceSlayn
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Fires at Midnight

Post by JayceSlayn » Sun Sep 01, 2013 11:48 pm

Hey everyone, as writing zombie-related fiction is one of the side interests among ZS, I thought I'd have a go at it. It's been a while since I've written fiction for fun, and I feel like my technical style is a bit rusty, so bear with me as I acclimate again. That being said, please feel free with your comments or critiques, if you have them.

I don't have a firm idea of where I'll be taking this – I plan on borrowing a bit of Douglas Adam's style – but I was hoping to incorporate some elements that I feel are not focused on as much in common zombie fan-fiction.

WARNING: This first episode is necessarily a little broken and frenzied, and as such includes some language. Inasmuch as it doesn't detract from the feeling of the story in this moment, I have attempted to tone it down, but I've left some intact. If you are sensitive to this, please do not read further.

I can't guarantee that I'll have a lot of time to continue writing on this, so if you like it, I'm sorry if that ends up being the case. In any respect, I hope you at least enjoy reading whatever I get posted here!

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“You can't prepare for these sorts of things, goddammit.” I cursed to myself hushly. I was in my bedroom closet, moving aside a clothes hamper to get to the AR-15 and my bolt-action .22LR, both in their cases, leaning against the far wall.

“I mean, earthquakes, floods, sure. But this?” I continued to myself. I had gotten to the AR first, and zipped the main sleeve open. Pull the rifle out, check the chamber, extend the stock, put it on the bed. Next was the first pouch, with a loaded magazine, which was promptly thrust into the well of the gun, but without chambering a round. The rest of the magazines I leave empty, so I'd have to stop by my ammo cans on the way out, I thought.

“I mean, what the hell is going on out there? Real, live frickin' zombies in the streets?” I stood up, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Or is that 'real, undead zombies'?” I thought grimly before I caught myself.

“Ugh, no, semantics doesn't matter. There are what used to be damn people, killing and eating other damn people out there! Eff me.” By now the CZ rifle was on the bed beside the AR, and I was grabbing the two, ten-round magazines for it from the case.

“Okay. What now?” I said aloud as I surveyed the two guns and miscellanea on the bed. I felt my pistol as a familiar pressure, already on my right hip. I was instinctively preparing for a battle, like the movies suggested would happen, but I hadn't even thought yet of what to do after I got my guns loaded.

I stood motionless for a few moments, allowing the wave of all different sorts of thoughts to wash over me. 'Where should I go?' 'Should I stay here and wait it out?' 'What are others going to do?' 'I need to call my buddies and link up with them.' 'Is this going to be everywhere?' 'How soon before they're at my doorstep?'

The news show from my living room TV continued to spout details of a few cities that were being locked down in quarantine zones. Only a few moments ago I had been out there, had turned it on, heard the world falling apart, then rushed into here. Others being interviewed suggested that it had already jumped quarantine zones and is a lot bigger than we were thinking.

I shook my head vigorously and brought my hands up to my face, trying to clear my mind. “Alright, let's grab the camping backpack, throw some food and ammo in it, get it ready to go. I'm staying here for now though, I need more time and information from the television before I make any rash decisions.” I concluded.

I decided to double check that the front door was locked, and made sure all the window shades were closed as far as they could be. I also thought I'd turn off the lights and tune down the TV – make it look like nobody was home maybe. The two rifles I leaned against the arm of the living room couch on my way back to the bedroom.

I wanted to confirm where I'd land on the grass, one story down from my apartment, if I bailed out the back window. It was starting to turn to dusk, but the grass berm outside was still there, about ten feet below the window. So far, this wasn't shaping up to be a plan I liked very much.

I heard the first gunshots I knew weren't from the TV from somewhere outside. Maybe a quarter to a half-mile away, from the attenuation of the report. Then again, they could be closer, if you considered the interfering houses. Who could tell if it was aimed at zombies or someone else. It sent a fresh chill down my spine. As if this feeling wasn't already real enough, it filled me with renewed sense of urgency and fear.

“Shit.” I mumbled, as I loosed the flashlight from its holster on my belt. I turned it down low and flicked the bedroom light off again.

I made my way back to the kitchen and stared into the pantry. I took a fresh box of Bisquick off the shelf and set it on the floor. A half a bottle of olive oil went next to it, and then some peanut butter and a bag of dried cranberries.

“It's just like I'm going out camping.” I reassured myself. I almost laughed, except the pit in my stomach kept me from laughing. 'Except that I'm packing firearms like I'm walking into a war zone.' I thought. 'With even good enough reason, maybe.' I decided I'd add my bottle of multivitamins to the pile on the floor, and just remembered that I should fill the bladder in my backpack with water.

Hauling the backpack from the closet to the kitchen, I opened the lid and pulled out the bladder. I hastily threw the food items I'd put on the floor into the top, and then proceeded to open the faucet wide into the mouth of the hydration bag.

Holding the bag under the stream with one hand, with the other I pulled my cell phone out of my left front pocket. I tried dialing the first contact I could think of – my old roommate. We still kept in touch on occasion, and he was my most reliable shooting buddy. We were also enough alike, and had enough history together that I trusted him. And for some reason I felt like that was important right now.

Of course the system came back indicating the lines were over capacity with calls. “Fuh.” I replied dismissively. I remembered that text messages were more likely to go through during excessive use because of lower data requirements or some such. So I'd send out a text to him and everyone else once my other hand was free, I thought.

The bladder was full, so I capped it and shoved it back down in its backpack sleeve. I had started poring through some of the outer pockets of the pack, checking to make sure everything was there, when suddenly another loud shot rang out.

Clearer, louder, closer. Much closer, I thought. It must have been in the apartment complex. I had frozen in place at the sound, straining to listen for more. Trying to hear what was happening outside from where I was standing.

“Son of a...” I started, but was abruptly cut short again by a powerful thud against my front door. I could hear the weight behind the impact by the way the hardware rattled.

There was no more sound for the rest of that unnaturally extended heartbeat. I realized then that my hand was hovering by the grip of my pistol, but if I wasn't wishing I had left the AR in the living room right then...
Last edited by JayceSlayn on Sat Sep 07, 2013 1:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Rahul Telang wrote:If you don’t have a plan in place, you will find different ways to screw it up
Colin Wilson wrote:There’s no point in kicking a dead horse. If the horse is up and ready and you give it a slap on the bum, it will take off. But if it’s dead, even if you slap it, it’s not going anywhere.

Nancy1340
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by Nancy1340 » Mon Sep 02, 2013 12:08 am

Good start. Thanks

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Mr. E. Monkey
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by Mr. E. Monkey » Mon Sep 02, 2013 1:03 am

Off to a good start with the story, can't wait to see where this goes... :D That means MOAR, please!
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jackorchuck
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by jackorchuck » Mon Sep 02, 2013 5:23 am

Good start I enjoyed it.

airdrop
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by airdrop » Sat Sep 07, 2013 12:32 pm

OK we got it in first gear now lets shift it to 2nd an move on to MOAR :)

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Barnabus
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by Barnabus » Tue Sep 24, 2013 11:13 am

I think the zombies got him.... :ohdear:
"If you are prepared for a shambling horde of walking corpses that are trying to eat you alive, you will be prepared for just about anything."
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DAVE KI
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Favorite Zombie Movies: WWZ though nowhere as good as the book.
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by DAVE KI » Wed Sep 30, 2015 2:29 am

Ah, somehow I missed this one :shock:. But yes it's a real good start. OK so I missed it big time but it's still a great start. :oops:
"We'll Fight Them, Sir!, Until Hell Freezes Over, And Then We'll Fight Them On The Ice! Sir!

223shootersc
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by 223shootersc » Wed Sep 30, 2015 8:07 am

Good start we need MOAR :clap:

Nancy1340
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by Nancy1340 » Sun Oct 04, 2015 11:16 pm

Very good start. Looking forward to more.

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jackorchuck
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by jackorchuck » Sat Dec 19, 2015 6:39 pm

Looks like this is another unfished story and he got off to such a good start.

independantGeorge
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by independantGeorge » Sat Dec 19, 2015 7:31 pm

now the author is zombie food. moral of the story: dont ever leave your rifle behind. a pistol just doesnt cut it.
sent from my walther PPQ

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teotwaki
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Re: Fires at Midnight

Post by teotwaki » Tue Jan 12, 2016 4:35 pm

The thumps on the door are ZS members looking for MOAR :shock:
My adventures and pictures are on my blog http://suntothenorth.blogspot.com

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