After the Pandemic: The Enemy of My Enemy (part 19): The Remnants (1043 hits)
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Submitted by The Caes (View user info) at 2005-07-26 13:15:08 EDT
http://www.ubersite.com/m/61238 -- Introduction -- Jack McCallum
http://www.ubersite.com/m/61350 -- Variant C -- Jack McCallum
http://www.ubersite.com/m/61505 -- Part 1: Brianna
http://www.ubersite.com/m/61614 -- Part 2: Khalid
http://www.ubersite.com/m/63145 -- Part 3: The Meeting
http://www.ubersite.com/m/63504 -- Part 4: The Conversation
http://www.ubersite.com/m/63663 -- Part 5: The Story of Manhattan
http://www.ubersite.com/m/64024 -- Part 6: On the Streets of Jersey
http://www.ubersite.com/m/64325 -- Part 7: Tome
http://www.ubersite.com/m/64611 -- Part 8: Faing
http://www.ubersite.com/m/65301 -- Part 9: The Gathering
http://www.ubersite.com/m/65871 -- Part 10: Men Amongst Giants
http://www.ubersite.com/m/66684 -- Part 11: The Temptress and The Aristocrat
http://www.ubersite.com/m/66752 -- Part 12: Trial by Blood
http://www.ubersite.com/m/67296 -- Part 13: Words and Swords
http://www.ubersite.com/m/67769 -- Part 14: Details and Divinity
http://www.ubersite.com/m/68760 -- Part 15: Into the Breach
http://www.ubersite.com/m/69588 -- Part 16: The Ambassador of New York
http://www.ubersite.com/m/69741 -- Part 17: The Devil in the Details
http://www.ubersite.com/m/70550 -- Part 18: The Joker's Wild
With ragged breath and burning legs, the Lukers stumbled off the last step and onto the ground floor. Tyler and the rest of the survivors had not paused in their mad dash from floor 86. Neil tried the radio on the run, but it was just static. Either they couldn't get reception in the stairwell, or they were too late. The humans were panting and exhausted, sucking wind hard. Tyler coughed up something black from the deepest parts of his lungs. It felt like he had swallowed lit coals and was spitting up glue. The habit he adopted to protect himself from vampire bites had turned him into a gasping invalid during periods of exertion.
"Fucking leeches," he gurgled through a mouthful of brown phlegm.
Tyler was still carrying the Chief around his shoulder, with another man holding up his other arm. The chill of his hand told him that Tony had died at least 40 floors ago. But he wouldn't put him down. Tyler searched faces. He didn't see Brianna anywhere. She had been left behind. He didn't allow himself to think she was dead. He itched to go back for her, but knew it was suicide. Besides, they caved the stairs in behind them, and the rest of the Cell wasn't even close to being out of the woods.
He held his dead friend and thought of his missing lover and felt like puking.
"Front door?" Nate asked. He was the man holding up the right side of Tony's body.
Tyler swore. No chance in hell they'd leave through the front as easy as they came in. Maybe they had a chance if they charged through, took the veecees by surprise. But then where would they go? Their only escape route from the island had surely been overtaken by now. Manhattan was a giant Alcatraz, and the guards were hungry for blood. But if they stayed here any longer, they were dead for sure.
No, he was being optimistic -- they'd only wish they were dead.
"Fuck." He swore again. "It's a long shot, but it's our only one. Get ready. Faing up front, Cash in the rear."
"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Rick asked. "That's suicide!"
"You have a better idea??" Tyler snapped.
"Houl' a mite, lad," the Scotsman said, holding up a thick finger. "Isiss an outer woll?"
Tyler shook his head.
Faing's expression was that of a man who heard bad but expected news. "Right then, let's 'ave a go anyway." He cracked his knuckles. "Folloh me!"
With a laugh, he pounded on the wall with both fists. It shattered easily as glass, spraying concrete and dust everywhere. Before the debris had settled he had already trotted through the hole and plowed through the next wall. And the next. And the next.
Tyler ran after him, trailing the Scot's bulldozed wake. Before they knew it, they were outside in the rank air. Faing was stooped with his hands on his knees. He was covered in so much masonry that he looked like a walking statue.
Cash, who was the caboose of their retreat, called out a warning. "They're comin' after us!" Tyler heard his booming magnums sound off and cracking gunfire respond.
Then he heard a battle cry, and saw that they had been spotted. Variant patrols began to charge them from both sides of the street, waving their weapons in the air and wearing eager grins. Tyler looked all around. They'd never last long out in the open. They weren't fast enough to outrun them.
Fuck. He didn't know what to do. HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
Suddenly a nearby manhole cover jumped out of its setting like it was made of styrofoam instead of wrought iron. It clanked to the pavement. A jagged black shape with a white head scrambled out of the pit.
It was Domokos. His ragged covering was more torn than usual. His left arm hung limp at his side, and he was missing an ear. His teeth and claws were stained bloody.
"Thisss way!" He rasped, and then jumped down the hole.
He didn't have to say it twice. "Go!" Tyler shouted. His men dropped down the hole like the Devil was nipping their heels, and maybe he was. Tyler handed Tony's body off to Bashir, who despite the burden landed in the sewers without a splash. Faing wedged himself through with some effort.
Tyler tossed some flashbang grenades behind him to confuse their pursuers. And then they ran, scurrying through the filth of Manhattan like rodents and other vermin. In a matter of minutes they were lost in the maze of tunnels and the only thing that chased them were echoing howls of frustration.
************
Heather limped down Stuyvesant's Passage, wincing with each frantic step. The explosion had thrown her to the ground like a sack of rocks, and she landed hard on her knee. She felt dirt spray on her like a hailstorm and thought she had been buried alive, but when she instinctively spasmed at the realization, her earthy tomb revealed itself to be a layer of dirt less than an inch deep.
She sucked in the precious air, and it tasted sweet event though she knew it was stale and dry. She had sobbed at first, and sobbed harder when she realized she couldn't hear any noises. Something wet was running out of her ears.
Heather had felt around behind her. She discovered a solid mound of dirt and rock, not ten feet from where she had painfully picked herself up. That crazy bastard did it. He blew the whole church. She cursed him, and then began sobbing again when she realized her words sounded like they were wrapped up in a mile of cotton.
That was six minutes ago. She was in the darkness now, feeling her way down the tunnel wall as fast as her knee would let her. It wasn't like the darkness of a starry sky or a sleepless night, of which she had many in the past few years. This was absolute darkness, a pitch, impenetrable black that closed in on her from all sides. It pushed against her, on her shoulders, her lungs, her throat. She thought she would choke on it.
If only she had a light, a glowstick, a match, anything. Her eyes were useless down here and her ears weren't working. The only sensations she knew were the agony in her knee and the frantic whirlpool of her thoughts.
She pushed it away. She concentrated on the cool grainy feel of the soil that tickled her fingertips as she dragged her hand down the tunnel wall. She didn't have time to cry or to be scared or to worry about Turner and Brianna or Ferdy and Gus or about her knee or whether or not she'd ever hear anyone call her name again.
The Luke Cell team at the Jersey end of the passage was waiting for a check-in. Every half hour. "All clear," every half hour. If they don't get the all-clear they blow the tunnel. Their team planted enough C-4 at the mid-point to invite the Hudson in.
Heather was never a great swimmer.
She tried to remember how long ago the last check in was, but it was hard to think. Eight minutes ago? Ten? It didn't matter. She tried to remember who was heading up the Jersey team, and how close they liked to watch the clock. Was it Joanne? Ron? She decided that didn't matter either. The dark didn't matter, her knee didn't matter.
Right now the only thing that mattered was speed.
*************
Brianna became aware of her surroundings slowly, and in pieces. She fought against the current of unconsciousness, swimming against its tarry pull. She would rouse for a moment and feel her head move, then plummet back into emptiness. Later she swam higher upriver and saw a room, a barred window, and then the water pulled her under again. Another empty moment and she saw a face she recognized but could not name. It's mouth moved but Brianna couldn't hear the words. She drowned into blackness again. Seconds or maybe days later she thrashed and she kicked and she pulled herself out, gasping on the shore, finally free, finally aware.
Except the shore was a cold tile floor. And no one here was free.
"Bree? Bree!!" Hands with slim fingers cradled her aching head and smoothed her hair from her eyes. "Oh, thank God you're awake. We were getting worried."
Brianna saw the same face from her waking dream and was able to name it this time. It was Liz. Relief washed over her. Wherever she was, she wasn't alone.
In fact, far from it. Brianna looked around and saw two dozen faces she recognized. They were all Lukers, battered and a little worse for wear, but unharmed. Strangely, they were all wearing the same thing. Plain cotton coverings, unisex dresses. Like hospital gowns but with no opening in the back.
Oh. She thought. We've been captured.
She looked down and saw she was wearing the same thing. Her hands patted down her body. She was naked underneath.
"Liz - where are we?"
When she spoke her lip felt numb and clumsy. She touched it gingerly and realized she had an incredibly fat lip - split, too. It felt like she had gotten a collagen injection on one side. I must look real pretty, she thought, with her swollen lip and black eye. A variant must have popped her. She was lucky there were no broken teeth.
"We're in the building still, I think." Liz answered. "At least, that's what it looks like through the windows."
"What are we doing here?"
Liz didn't answer right away. "We're being sorted. I think this is the room they put all the ones that are healthy enough."
"Healthy enough?" Brianna looked around at the men and women. Some of them had bandages on their wrists. Left wrists, each time. Liz had one too. "Healthy enough for what?"
Liz looked away and picked absently at her bandage.
"Healthy enough for what?"
"For fucking." A man's voice said dully. It was Paul. "They're gonna make us fuck."
Brianna's breath got caught in her throat. They were in the breeding pens. 'Take the women alive at all costs,' the Butcher said.
Paul was still talking. " - not a bad gig, you think about it." He was staring at the wall like a mental patient. "Don't get turned into a freak. Fed and watered, warm place to sleep. Just sit around all day, fucking."
"Shut up." The words crackled through Liz's gritted teeth.
"Just fucking," he continued obliviously. "Fucking each other. Could be worse. I like fucking. Everyone likes fucking - "
"Shut up shut up SHUT UP!!" Liz pounced on Paul, toppling them both to the floor. She started pounding on him like an amateur drummer and shrieked wildly.
Brianna and two others pulled her off. She kicked and wailed and screamed at Paul to shut up. He had not defended himself. He still lay on the floor with his dead stare, whispering things to himself.
Liz collapsed into sobs, clutching Brianna close. She cried long enough to wet Brianna's shoulder. She held Liz until her sobs became sniffles.
Brianna's eyes went to Liz's injured wrist. They locked eyes.
Liz nodded slightly. She began unwrapping the binding. She peeled away the bloody gauze to reveal a patch of agitated red skin. And in the center of the patch something had been tattooed in black ink.
"F-251"
"I think you're 252."
**************
It wasn't the pain that woke him up. It wasn't the burn of his face or the broken ribs, or the cold steel that pinched his wrists, or the agony in his knee as the ligaments knitted themselves together. It was Brianna. She laid there in his mind's eye, pinned down against a table. She was crying through flinty eyes and she spat venom at her unseen captors. But she was helpless, and they were doing something to her. He was as powerless as she.
"Strong One!" He blurted, his head snapping up.
"Ah, good, you're awake."
Khalid looked around him. Iron manacles clamped around his wrists and ankles and bolted him against the wall. There were sets of restraints all along his wall. Only two were occupied. Abayome was two spaces down. Khalid had to crane his neck to see, as his left eye was blind. The shotgun burst had mangled that side of his face. She hung limply, carrying numerous wounds. Her clothes were so torn she was practically naked, and she was covered in dried blood that Khalid scented was not her own. She had made a good accounting of herself before being overcome, it was certain.
Two spaces down on Khalid's opposite side hung Svetlana. She was conscious, but only just. Her pristine face was a mess of bruises and cuts. There was a gash through her belly that would have doubtless killed a human. Khalid caught a glimpse of someone lying on a stained table but his line of sight was blocked by the variant that stood before him.
He wore a doctor's smock that was so stained that the rusty brown was overpowering the white, like a bloodsplattered cow. His thinning hair was black and perched high on his scarred forehead. Like all variants, his skin sported scabbing wounds. This one had a particularly repulsive sore on his cheek.
"How do you feel?" He asked with gold pen poised over his clipboard.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor of course. How do you feel? Try to be specific."
Khalid did not respond. He only stared into the variant's yellow eyes.
The Doctor frowned. "I see." He then jammed his pen into the shotgun wound on Khalid's knee. The Arab hissed and bared his teeth as the pen ground against nerves and bone. After a few agonizing moments, the Doctor withdrew it. He searched for a mostly-white patch of his overcoat and wiped the blood off his writing utensil.
"Dulled response to localized pain," he said as he jotted on his clipboard. "Minimal amount of blood loss. Just like the other subjects." He looked up at the seething Arab. "I'd appreciate it if you were less difficult. You creatures are fascinating, and I would like to get some accurate data without having to resort to...unempirical methods."
"Physiologically you all appear the same on the surface. But I am told that this one can change shape, but is weak, and the black one is very strong, and you - " he regarded Khalid thoughtfully, " - you are telekinetic." He stroked his chin. "You must be finding it difficult to concentrate. You've been drugged, and it appears to have the desired muddling effect. You can't concentrate enough to access your abilities, yes?"
Khalid pushed experimentally at the variant with his mind, but nothing happened. He was too weak, too unfocused. Oblivious, the Doctor kept talking.
"I would love to take a look at your brain. But you can save me time and tell me about your...'species,' if you want to call it that. A grounding context would help. Where did you come from? How do you propagate? Are your gifts hereditary?"
Khalid's burning gaze was his only response.
The Doctor frowned tersely. He jammed his pen into Khalid's knee. This time Khalid expected it. He held the Doctor's piss-eyes with a look that most men only see an instant before their brutal end.
"Interesting," the variant said as he absently scraped the pen around in Khalid's knee cavity. "You have spirit, but fear not. I can cure that. I am a doctor, after all." He wiped the pen off again.
"I am preoccupied with the study of pain," he said in a tone that would have been conversational if his speech was not so analytical. "The untrained don't comprehend how subjective pain is. The variance between the nociception we should experience from the stimulation of nerve pathways and the pain we actually feel is remarkably extensive and contextually variable.
"Of course I say 'we', but I'm referring to you and other non-C-Variants. The virus has made our pain receptors mostly unresponsive in the objective, physical sense. Your kind apparently experiences this too, but to a lesser extent. Yet some of us will suffer a wound and swear to feeling noticeable pain or discomfort, even though the amount of activity of nociception signals is negligible. My research lends a great deal of weight to the gate control theory.
"Now. The Overlord would very much like to learn how your bodies function, and I must personally confess, so do I. However, if you choose to be uncooperative in this learning process, I will instead divert my attention to my aforementioned preoccupation. In this manner I can also assess your recuperative capabilities, as well as some other factors. There's quite a lot of exploring to do. It's similar to discovering the Galapagos Islands," he grinned, the first emotion to crack through his bland expression. But he quickly regained his professional composure.
"That one was very hostile and unaccommodating," he said, pointing to Abaoyme. "She did nothing but curse me during her entire examination. But once she revives, I think her attitude will have improved. And if it has not," he said, raising his index finger, "then we proceed to more visceral examinations, such as we have done here."
The Doctor stepped aside and gestured towards the stained iron table. Katsuo lay upon it, empty eyes on the ceiling, a spike driven through the hole Vilhelm's sword made in his heart. His chest had been cracked open and his flesh peeled away in large flaps, exposing his innards. Surgically removed samples of tissue and bone had been removed and placed in labeled jars that were lined up on the next table. He was not destroyed, but was a corpse in all the ways that mattered. The spike in his heart was preventing him from healing - he would rest there until his body turned to dust. Katsuo's doom was to waste away under the Doctor's knife.
"Once more I must confess, I am curious to observe the differences in the process with a subject that hasn't been previously incapacitated. It would be particularly informative to study an undamaged heart. Dissections are informative, but vivisections yield a much wider range of data - even though medically speaking, none of us are really 'alive.'"
The Doctor turned and looked at Khalid. "Now that you are better acquainted with your situation, I will ask you again: How do you feel?"
Khalid regarded the variant darkly. When he spoke, his words came through a tight smile.
"Shem et Duat. When I am free, I will teach you things about pain your narrow mind could never imagine."
The Doctor looked at him coolly. "Very well." He said, and removed a scalpel from his pocket.
User Reviews
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-04-14 12:14:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-04-06 11:08:18 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-08-29 04:25:09 (#)
Ranking: 0
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. I think this will end on 26 or 27.
---
29 , man
************************
Hey, I was close.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-04-06 11:08:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-08-29 04:25:09 (#)
Ranking: 0
Pffft, tell me about it, Zak. Every time I sit to write a segment I get ideas like, "Hey, it would be cool if I did this," and so on...and then my one post turns into three. You know this thing was only supposed to be 10 parts? In fact, there were lots of things I didn't do because I didn't want it to keep going forever. Lots of backstory stuff I was thinking of doing, entire subplots done away with...
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. I think this will end on 26 or 27.
Snark is awesome. I really should check necrosiac out...
---
29 , man
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-08-29 04:25:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Pffft, tell me about it, Zak. Every time I sit to write a segment I get ideas like, "Hey, it would be cool if I did this," and so on...and then my one post turns into three. You know this thing was only supposed to be 10 parts? In fact, there were lots of things I didn't do because I didn't want it to keep going forever. Lots of backstory stuff I was thinking of doing, entire subplots done away with...
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. I think this will end on 26 or 27.
Snark is awesome. I really should check necrosiac out...
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-08-28 13:14:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
with this new direction you just added about 20 installments to the series. and I knew Khalid and Katsuo were still alive.
and you should read the Necrosiac. can't recommend it highly enough.
Submitted by Kristen (user info) at 2005-08-04 04:23:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't have MSN. Boo on me. However, if you have lesser forms of chat at your disposal, email me and I'll give you either my yahoo or my AIM name.
Submitted by hcp28 (user info) at 2005-08-03 12:00:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is just getting better and better.
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2005-07-29 17:48:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm lovin it.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-29 00:23:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I've heard talk about that series. I'd like to read it, but the fact that it's 40 somethign parts intimidates me. One only has so many hours in the day...
...and I've got to wrap this thing up, goddammit! I think 5 more parts to go. "Ish."
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-07-28 23:38:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Absolutely awesome. This series is just as much a favourite of mine as the Necrosiac series by Snark.
Submitted by Bayley (user info) at 2005-07-28 10:24:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
So awesome!
Submitted by yermom (user info) at 2005-07-28 09:38:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome as always.
Submitted by Viper_04 (user info) at 2005-07-28 04:58:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Once again you never fail to please....I knew Khalid wasn't dead!
this was probably one of my favorite installments yet
Keep up the awesome work!
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-27 21:32:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2005-07-27 18:07:34 (#)
Ranking: 2
fucking a
goddamn caesar, you would have raped um
********************
I read that and thought, "I would have raped who?" OOOOOHHHHH, you mean Ubermadness.
Anyway, I dunno about that. I probably would have been put up against someone pretty good in the first round because of the seeding process...and some of these titles seem hard to get a good story off of. Also, some stories that I thought were great got totally destroyed by voters. People are being more critical than I expected. So who can tell.
And don't forget, the series you're reading now (thanks for appreciating it by the way) is the product of a lot of planning and thinking and editing. I doubt you'd be seeing my best work in a competition where I only had a couple of days to come up with an idea and write about it.
I plan to participate next time, though.
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2005-07-27 18:07:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
fucking a
goddamn caesar, you would have raped um
Submitted by Haggard (user info) at 2005-07-27 12:45:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2005-07-27 06:52:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
as ever.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-07-26 21:48:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
excellent, as always. keep em coming broseph.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-07-26 18:37:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 17:28:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Stop the presses. This was a great matchup:
http://www.ubersite.com/m/71748
Ironies of Peace was good. I wasn't fond of the format of Entry 2. And that's a tough title.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 17:15:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I think 'The Ironies of Peace' is probably my favorite so far.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 17:03:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The first one is probably my favorite matchup in that both entries were awesome.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/71746
http://www.ubersite.com/m/71564
http://www.ubersite.com/m/71735
No Longer Will I Follow and The Heat Burned it Away are two of my other favorites, but you've read those already. In fact, you've read a lot of the same ones I have, so maybe we just don't agree. If you have any recommendations for me, fire away.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:56:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:55:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Maybe I'm just reading the wrong ones. Reccomendations?
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:51:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Sweet sixteen is what, round 4? I'm looking forward to the next couple of rounds, because I should be able to follow all the entries instead of feeling like I'm missing out on some good stories I just dont' have time for.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:49:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I see your point, but I think it's clear that the quality of the matchups has been greatly improved. In round 1 I was most often choosing between the less sucky of two sucks. Now in round 2 I'm finding that there's either a clear winner or I'm choosing between two decent, and sometimes spectacular entries. So in that respect, I'm pleased.
The cream is rising, in other words.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:37:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It's not the entries (though there are some real "winnners") as much as all the crap surrounding it. People are just giving up, submitting shit and generally becoming disinterested in the whole thing so (in my opinion) the quality is going dowhill. There were actually a few that I've read this time around that I couldn't bring myself to vote on, and I read and voted on all in the first round.
Maybe I'll just wait til the 'sweet 16' go up...
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:16:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Kre8rix, what do you mean by that? I'm liking round 2, so far. Round 1 was about 80% shite...most of the really good entries were up against forfeits and so I missed a lot of them. Then again, I can't keep up with all the UM posts, as much as I'd like to. I don't have the time or will.
It's funny that one of the reasons I didn't enter UM was because I'd have to put ATP on hold, and yet what is taking up all my time? Ubermadness. SO MANY POSTS!!
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 16:01:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:56:41 (#)
Ranking: 0
Kre8rix -- pick up the pace??
I've submitted 3 of these in July, and 5 since June 29th!
I would like to get these out faster, but my writing time is severly restricted. My last three weekends have been taken up entirely by weddings and family functions and such. Hopefully I'll have some time next week to do a little more.
====
I know I'm just giving you a hard time. I was taking a break due to my participation in UM. But that didn't last long, and seeing how round 2 is going, I'm glad it didn't.
I know what you mean about restricted writing time.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:57:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:32:32 (#)
Ranking: 2
Caeser and Jack are the only ones still going, though I sporadically add to mine as I see fit. I can't remember who else added to it off the top of my head. Do a search for 'after the pandemic' and it will bring all of them up.
--
All work and no play make Jack a pissed off boy. I'll have another Smith installment up soon.
Ax, here's the character I've been messing with, in two series and a few one-shots.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/69802
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:56:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Kre8rix -- pick up the pace??
I've submitted 3 of these in July, and 5 since June 29th!
I would like to get these out faster, but my writing time is severly restricted. My last three weekends have been taken up entirely by weddings and family functions and such. Hopefully I'll have some time next week to do a little more.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:54:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"He was not destroyed, but was a corpse in all the ways that mattered. The spike in his heart was preventing him from healing - he would rest there until his body turned to dust."
...guh-JAYZUZ!
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:52:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Heh heh, I knew you'd be happy about that, Peon. But I should point out, she ain't out of the woods yet.
Thanks for the comments, guys.
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:39:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WOOOOOO!!!
Heather is ALIVE!!!!
<does happy dance>
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:32:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:21:42 (#)
Ranking: 2
I read this whole thing...I liked it, but I'm a bit confused as to the authorship. This is a separate series from Jack McCallum?
Ah, well, anyway keep up the good work.
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Jack spawned the original Idea and framework for the series, and left it to several writers to run with.
Caeser and Jack are the only ones still going, though I sporadically add to mine as I see fit. I can't remember who else added to it off the top of my head. Do a search for 'after the pandemic' and it will bring all of them up.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:22:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Not that I'm one to talk, but pick up the pace man!!
Jebus, what am I supposed to do while slacking on my own series?
Work?
Ha ha, yeah right.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-07-26 15:21:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I read this whole thing...I liked it, but I'm a bit confused as to the authorship. This is a separate series from Jack McCallum?
Ah, well, anyway keep up the good work.
Submitted by whiskey_jack (user info) at 2005-07-26 14:22:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Still the best series on uber being written. Keep up the good work.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-07-26 13:44:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Xcuses (user info) at 2005-07-26 13:40:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm giving everyone who has read this entire thing +2, except thecaes of course
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-26 13:19:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
For the record, I have no idea if the stairwell on the ESB is adjacent to an outside wall. Though it just now occurred to me that it can't be, as the building is quite a bit wider at the base than it is at the top.
I'M A GODDAMN GENIUS. * sigh *