|
Post by mnn2300 on Sept 15, 2011 10:57:04 GMT -6
OK, I thought I'd kick off this new section and see what happens. The premise actually came to me in the middle of the night and I've been thinking about it for a couple days. Eventually I may use it as a premise for a story of my own, but that would be far in the future as I have 4 other stories I am working on currently.
Anyway, I will start it and then anyone can add a paragraph (or so) at a time, please make sure it makes some sense as far as the story has been written up to the point of your addition and leaves the story in a position to be continued by others. Lets see if we can't make this into an actual survival story. ____________________________________
John Taylor looked out over the city from his 22nd floor Penthouse, all he could see at ground level was the yellow mist covering everything, it still wasn't dissipating. He thought back to when it first appeared almost a month ago. He didn't know where it came from, but as the yellow mist enveloped the city, people started coughing, then convulsing and then dying, and those were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones? well, he cringed remembering the first one he encountered shortly after the mist settled in...........
|
|
|
Post by Jerry D Young on Sept 15, 2011 12:39:00 GMT -6
I've always avoided these types of collaborative efforts, but I decided, why not. mnn2300 got it off to a great start. Here is my feeble contribution. I plan to keep my posts in blue, so people know who wrote what section.
*********
John drew up sharply as he walked toward the coffee shop on the corner. Wisps of the yellow mist curled around the building. He stared at the mist for a moment, but a man staggered into view, the mist seeming to cling to him. John took one step forward, but when the man fell to the sidewalk in convulsions, he decided that discretion being the better part of valor, perhaps retreating to his penthouse apartment would be the wisest choice he could make at the moment.
|
|
|
Post by jtpatriot on Sept 19, 2011 15:30:50 GMT -6
When the elevator car stopped at the ground level where he expected to get on, he was totally surprised when the doors swished open to see her standing there, and she, just as surprised just stood there. Before the doors could shut, he very quickly got in the car as the doors closed behind him. "Victoria, I thought that,..... I mean to say, I've not seen you for weeks and........ Are you, .... uhm,.... OK?" By the way she reacted to his question he could see that she was relieved to here the question. Im not sick, if thats what you mean, although it appears everyone else in the city has come down with this mysterious what ever it is. I was on my way to the market.
|
|
|
Post by Jerry D Young on Sept 19, 2011 18:13:00 GMT -6
John hurriedly pressed the button for his floor. “Yeah. Was going to get some coffee. I saw a guy… it was awful,” John said softly. “I’m glad you are alright. So am I. That yellow mist is deadly. And unless I miss my guess, if we don’t figure a way out of here really quick, we’re going to be trapped. From what I saw, at least it doesn’t seem to come up very high.”
|
|
|
Post by jtpatriot on Sept 19, 2011 21:18:27 GMT -6
"I'm on 21," she said. " Your John, uhm," "Taylor he said,", and your Victoria Johnson. Remember, it's been several weeks now, but the post man delivered your mail to my suite. I'm in 2201 and your in 2101". "That's right, I do remember. You were so nice to hand deliver it to my apartment," she smiled. Something she had not done in a long time. The elevator had come to a stop on the 21st floor. "John, I do have coffee, but I'm afraid my pantry is, I'm embarassed to say it, almost bare. I would be happy to share what I have though". As they walked off the elevator, John noticed her walking in what appeared to be some amount of pain, assisted by a cane. " I dont remember your using a cane," commented John. "I didnt untill my skiing accident," replied Victoria, "Thats why I've been cooped up in my apartment all this time, trying to give my ankle time to heal."
|
|
|
Post by Jerry D Young on Sept 23, 2011 17:47:22 GMT -6
Victoria opened the door to her apartment and the two entered. There were only the sounds of Victoria preparing the coffee as John looked down at the street from 21 stories above it. The mist was visible as far as John could see, but still only a shallow layer hugging the ground up to waist level.
“What are we going to do?” Victoria asked a few minutes later, handing John a cup of coffee. There was fear in her voice as John took the coffee and looked at her.
“We’ll figure out something. There has to be a way…”
|
|
|
Post by jtpatriot on Sept 23, 2011 23:32:27 GMT -6
The rich aroma of strong coffee filled his senses as Johns attention was drawn to the fine pieces of art through out the room. A collection of photographs arranged on the wall were of particular interest to him. " Some of my fondest memories are spending my summers in Africa with my father. Father was a professional hunter as you can see," Victoria explained. As they looked at the photographs, the wall that held them, once bathed in bright sunlight suddenly darkened and thunder and wind shook the large glass windows that allowed the view of the city. Then the rain began to fall.
|
|
|
Post by Jerry D Young on Sept 28, 2011 12:52:59 GMT -6
Stepping quickly to the window again, John looked down. He set the coffee aside, all thoughts of enjoying it gone. “Victoria! This could be our chance to get away from that yellow mist. Look! The rain is dissipating it.”
Victoria moved over to the window, leaning heavily on the cane. “I don’t know, John… With the cane… I just can’t move very fast. What if the rain stops and the mist comes back while we are on the ground?”
“I have a vehicle… As long as you can get to the garage, and I will carry you if I have to, we can get out of here, even if the rain stops.”
|
|
|
Post by rvm45 on Sept 29, 2011 8:25:28 GMT -6
John drove slowly through the deserted city. There was no reason to go particularly slowly; but on the other hand, if precipitous haste contributed to them crashing John's truck, there weren't any wrecker services to call.
Every vertical surface in the city had been covered with what looked like standard Hip-Hop Style Graffiti--all of it surprisingly well done.
However, when John stopped to examine it, he couldn't even scratch it with the cheap Gravity Knife he carried--to spare the edges on his better Knives, when he wanted to play Primitive Pete with a Blade.
Next John had tried smacking a "Graffitied" wall with his custom "Vectorhawk"--a Cold Steel Norse Axe Head mounted on one of Vector's unbreakable composite handles--an extra long handle so far as Tomahawken generally went.
Couldn't even scratch the surface of the "Paint".
At that point, John was ready to try shooting the mysterious substance.....
When all of a Sudden, Victoria got all wet and soggy, remarkably saline--and very hard to get along with. She said that they needed to move out--and besides, who knew who or what a Gunshot might have drawn to them.
The streets and sidewalks were also colored--though you could scuff the sidewalk "Chalk" slightly, if you really worked at it.
The designs on the sidewalk and street were different though.....
Pure Psychedelic colors and Optical Illusions, with no compromises toward Graffiti Style. And they seemed to writhe with a sinister negative life force all their own.
When John looked too long, he could feel his grasp of reality start to loosen.....
But like who could drive without looking at the Street?
Right before they got out of the most built up section of the town, they spied someone sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk.
It was what appeared to be a very old man. He was wearing some kind of voluminous orange robes--like maybe a Shaolin Monk. He had a Bamboo Coolie Hat and he smoked a brass bowled pipe with an extraordinarily long stem.
The oddest thing about the old man, was his color. His skin was a bright and uniform Canary Yellow, his eyes shone Gold, and great huge volumes of Canary Yellow Smoke came both from the pipe's bowl, and from the old man's mouth and nose.
John pulled up to within, perhaps, a dozen feet of the old man. He cracked the window. He was curious, but he didn't trust this strange yellow dude any farther that he could throw him.
The old man pulled the Pipe out of his mouth, and grimaced.
All his teeth, except the eye teeth, up and down, had either been pulled, or had rotted out--assuming that they'd ever been there.
The old man neither looked threatening, with his lonesome fangs, nor did he seem to be smiling. It was an inscrutable gesture.
Though the teeth weren't his, John found the four Yellow Rotting Incisors very uncomfortable. He'd have been more than happy to pull them for free.
"PIE!" The old man said. "Piiiiii..eee; Pi...Pi.....Pie!?!"
The fellow made a few partial Gestures, wailing "Pie!" in a variety of pitches.
Then he seemed to give up. He spit in John's direction, and replaced the odd brass pipe in his mouth. He shook his fist at John, and then shot him the finger.....
And then he spit again.
John felt his blood pressure rise. He'd kept his right hand on the stock of his 4" Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum all through the strange and somehow surprisingly unsatisfying conversation with the Yellow Dude.
Maybe the old burn-out was just spitting--or perhaps he was only spitting at John and Victoria--but he'd managed to hit the Shadow of John's truck.....
And John intended to ascertain if the man had been trying to spit on John's Shadow.
Only once again, Victoria wasn't wanting to be Neighborly and Socialize.
"Come on" She insisted, while pulling on John's arm. "I want to be well out of town before dark, or before the next Yellow Rain."
.....RVM45
|
|
|
Post by Jerry D Young on Sept 29, 2011 12:03:24 GMT -6
Feeling more than a bit nauseas suddenly, John gunned the engine of the truck and sped away from the old man. He could still see the occasional wisp of the yellow mist curling here and there on the streets and sidewalks as the rain began to taper off.
He looked over at Victoria. She was asleep or passed out. Reaching over, he nudged her shoulder. She came to with a start. “What… What is going on?”
“The mist?” John said. “We’re getting away from it.”
Victoria’s eyes flared slightly as she remembered the mist and getting to the truck. After that she was a little unsure of.
“Uh, Victoria, you… uh… did see the yellow man… back there? You urged me to drive on?”
Victoria looked at him as if he was crazy. “What yellow man? What are you talking about? I’m a little sick to my stomach, but my eyes are fine. I didn’t see any yellow man.”
“Ah…” John shut up. Apparently the mist was hallucinogenic, in tiny doses, and caused stomach problems, but deadly if fully exposed. John shivered and pressed the accelerator a little more. He wanted out of the city. Far out.
|
|
|
Post by mnn2300 on Sept 29, 2011 16:29:13 GMT -6
John suddenly slammed on the brakes, throwing Victoria ahead, luckily she was wearing her seat belt. "What?!" she said leaning back in the seat "The river bridge is gone and just beyong where the road would normally cross the river is more of the mist. We'll have to try a different way." John replied. "Whats that sticking out over the top of the mist accross the river?" Victoria asked. " I don't see....oh wait, but there shouldn't be anything like that there, there should be just homes in that area, yet whatever it is is huge, I can't really make it out though, it's big enough to be a high rise, but, no now the mist has closed in, I can't see it anymore" John exclaimed. "Lets just get out of here, it looks like the wind is starting to blow the mist across the river towards us." Victoria said.
|
|
|
Post by rvm45 on Sept 29, 2011 20:19:50 GMT -6
John turned left, and drove along, parallel to the River. There were a couple other bridges crossing the river, further down--But the River was irregular enough, that trying to drive along it, all the way to the next bridge wasn't very practical.
John took another left, intending to go far enough to get on another main road.....
But just as he went to turn, several Nuns, herding a huge flock of Geese--of all things--cut across the road in front of him.
John and Victoria sat and watched a steady procession of Gray Geese Waddling, and Honking, and Truckin' right along.
"I didn't know that there were this many Geese in the whole State--much less in a large Metropolitan Center," John Said.
"I didn't know that they had Catholic Nuns in this city," Victoria said.
John looked half-way annoyed, and half-way confused.
"Of course there would be some Nuns in a Town this size--though I've counted almost eighty.....
"But the Geese! How do you shelter that many Geese in a big city? Where do you take them, to practice mass herding techniques? What about the smell? I guestimate that we've seen over two thousand Geese so.. far.
"This is getting weird," John Opined.
Finally the last of the Geese passed through the cross road.
The last two Nuns were riding a Huge Boar--both of them side-saddle.
Their wards safely across the street, they urged their Boar towards John and Victoria....
The Nun in back must have weighed almost four hundred pounds. She had a Big Cigar hanging out of her mouth--it was about as long and fat as a big five cell Mag-Lite, but it was Canary Yellow. She kept counting beads on a Rosary, and ignored John and Victoria.
The Nun in the front was a skinny as a bed-post. She puffed on a small toker's pipe fairly frequently, but she seemed to be at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.
The skinny Nun took the small pipe out of her mouth. John had time to note, that although she wasn't down to four moldering stumps, she didn't have a single tooth that hadn't been broken into a stump.
She blew out a huge cloud of Yellow Smoke. and said,
"Pie?" to John.
"Don't know what kinda Pie you mean.....
"Ya mean like 3.141527.....?" John said. "Cause If'n y'do, that's 'Pi', not 'Pie'."
Of course, both "Pies" sounded identical.
The Nun shook her head impatiently. She rummaged around in a Possibles bag, and found a new Bright Yellow Cigar, perhaps eighteen inches long.
She offered the huge stogie to John.
"Pie!" She said, with the tone of someone making it plain that they will brook no contradiction.
"No, Thank ye kindly, but no. I'm tryin' to kick the Pie habit. Cornbread and Buttermilk is healthier for you...get right down to it."
The scrawny Nun spat out a stream of very loud, angry sounding abuse. She spat on the ground and returned to puffing the small pipe.
The fat Nun tossed aside her Big Yellow Cigar, although it was still almost a foot long, and snatched the new one from the scrawny Nun, and lit it.
Then they turned the giant Hog, and meandered on.
"Don't tell me that you didn't see two Cigar Smoking Nuns, riding a Boar that was bigger than most Holstein Bulls?"
"Of course not. You're Phantasizing again." Victoria exclaimed.
John was busy looking for the Cigar that the fat Nun had cast away.
John staggered as if he'd been sucker-punched.
"O God No!" He shouted, and then he vomited for several minutes.
"God No! God No!" he kept praying, or cursing, he wasn't sure which.
Victoria came around the truck, to see the cause of his distress. Instead of an over-sized Cigar Butt, there was a Big Huge Yellow Slug.
Victoria went to stomp the Slug.
"No!" John shrieked. "You'll get it all over your shoe, then you'll track it into my truck."
John poured a generous dose of sea salt on the Tiny Abomination, then he poured some jellied gasoline, and set it afire.
"So the big fat Nun was smoking a Slug?" Victoria asked.
"Yes, that Nun--one of the Nuns that you claim was a mere Figment of my imagination--was apparently Smoking a Big Fat Yellow Slug."
.....RVM45
|
|
|
Post by mnn2300 on Sept 30, 2011 8:41:54 GMT -6
What was that buzzing noise? John though to himself, then realized it was his alarm going off.
Jumping up from his bed in his 22nd floor condo, he threw open the blinds and looked out at the city: clear blue sky's, people walking on the sidewalks, cars driving on the roads. "Wow, what a dream." he said to himself as he hopped in the shower to get ready for work.
The End
|
|
|
Post by rvm45 on Sept 30, 2011 11:26:34 GMT -6
|
|