The Journey (Continuation)

[MiStA PePPa]

First, I'll lay some rules. Obviously the general forum rules apply.

First rule of Story Club: Be creative

Second rule of Story Club: Be creative

(Ironically the first and second rules aren't very creative eh?)

Third rule: Your addition must be at least two full sentences long. No one word posts.

Fourth Rule: Don't post an addition that is more than two or three paragraphs.

Fifth Rule: Try and keep the general plot alive. Twists are welcome, and encouraged, just keep plot in mind. (read the whole thing before adding)

Sixth Rule: All rules can be broken if done tastefully. 

Note: I just read what i wrote, it seems kinda, you know, serious. It's not supposed to be, I just did it like that to set the story up. The general genre is Comedy. So. have at it.

The Journey

The end of the third World War. 2065. The United States coasts are in ruins. A group of men squint their eyes in the slowly fading dawn light, trying to see the last of Japanese warships sink in the Atlantic waters. A radio crackles inside a nearby van, "The United States has declared the end of the third World War. Alert levels have been lowered to red. All civilians are urged to stay inside, there are still small pockets of Japanese and Russian resistance hiding inside US boundaries. These forces are said to be suicidal and will stop at nothing to kill as many innoc..." The radio Is turned off. Three men get inside the van and drive away. They head West. Their destination, Oregon. Home. The van swerves to miss fallen trees and broken highway. "You guys ready for a long trip?". "Sure, we made it here, we can make it back." "There were five of us when we started." "Let's find something to eat." "Sounds Good."

The van rounds a sharp bend and they can see two golden arches. A McDonald's. "Let's go ther.." POP! A tire blows out! "Darn, we don't have a spare. We're gunna have to walk." "Walk? But I..I'm afraid of the dark." "It's only a half mile away." "Do you know how many things can be inside a half mile?" "You're right, thats a lot of monsters." "C'mon I'll let you hold the flash light, unless you want to wait here." "OK, I'll go." ...

(I'll let you guys introduce the characters  )

[Swedish_Seb]

- McDonald's again, huh? What a shock. - I'm sick and fucking tired of eating roaches ev-eh-ree goodgoddamn day.
- If there's any clownmeat left, I've got dips, capisce?

[Zazoo]

Bombs fall. Everybody dies.


EDIT: Ruin The Fun already Zazoo? ♥Madd

[Lazerblade]

Barry is pulled from his dream to the blaring of the alarm clock/radio. One of those obscure 80's hair-band songs is playing. He can never remember which band sang what- they all sounded so similar. Maybe they all went to that Eddie Van Halen school in California.

Anyway, Barry sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes and stretching. He ponders the dream. Ever since his fiance left him, he's been having weird dreams about isolation and desolation. Actually, he had those when she was around too.

The automatic coffee-maker hisses, signaling the final spew of steam from its sweaty bowels. Barry stands and walks out of his "room"- a small alcove bedroom in a studio apartment. And so the day begins...

[achilles118]

barry, couldnt even get his mornin coffee and smoke down before his mothers first call.
When r u gettin a girlfriend she says?
he doesnt answer

[Da Fish]

The dog starts barking in the kitchen....... 'Heh, she must have run out of washing up. I really should think about letting her go out soon.' he thinks. he walks in, preparing him self for the onslaught of abuse as he opens the kitchen door. the crack of light streams through door way, hitting him like a bunny in the free way. He stood there and looked down at her. Her big brown eyes looked up at him from the floor infront of the sink.
"Whaf the...."
He tuned out what she said. She never sounded the same since she lost she teeth. He went back to his room and got dressed. Lena Headey wouldnt have treated him like this. She respected a mans man. Of course he had changed since he saw the 300, hadn't everyone else?

[Swedish_Seb]

He took the last, flat swig from the bottle of Olde English 800 still standing on the dresser.
As he stepped out in the 30C/86F humid heat, he thanked Godd for being out of clean laundry and fprced to go commando.

[BOBK]

Barry struggled with the items in his arms, and his 3 day old coffee in his left hand, but made it to his car.  As he fumbled with his keys, they slipped, falling to the oily blacktop.  "Sheeeet...of course!," he muttered to himself.

He squatted, and as he felt for them, and image began to enter his mind, and then, a flood of images.  Over, and over again, different images Patrick Swayzee took his mind, to far away places in his past.

It was happening again.

[Swedish_Seb]

As he was day-dreaming about Patrick Swayzee's clay-clad hands caressing his trembling torso, he heard a ripping sound and felt a slight breeze where there generally was no breeze.

[Lazerblade]

*Note: I'm already lost, but whatever...*

The cool air caused ass-hair to stand on end, yanking Barry from his casual mind-walk. 'Now there's something you don't feel every day, unless you live in Alaska perhaps', Barry though to himself.

Grumbling, he set his coffee mug on the blacktop driveway. The grime on the mug blended well with the decaying edge of the greyish landscape around it. Dead grass lay flat across the dry dirt channel that marked the border between lawn and parking areas, as if reaching for the baked blackened surface in a suicidal plea.

Barry darted back inside, searching desperately for a presentable pair of slacks. He couldn't screw this one up. The opportunity to finally be someone had been presented to him, through a friend of a friend, and the clock was ticking.

Spotting a dark grey pant-leg beneath a pile of last week's clothes, he grabbed for it and changed in the living room. The clock on the mantle- his mother's mantle- loomed over him like death's advocate, mocking his pitiful appearance.

With one last quick glance in the mirror, Barry darted for the door.

[Fixxxer]

The cool air caused ass-hair to stand on end...

LMAO

[BOBK]

As he took a last swig from the coffee, opening the driver side door of his extra-mini-truck X series, he felt more than heard a loud thump!  "What the...?"  In the distance a trail of thick black smoke was rising into the morning sky.  He tossed the coffee mug toward the dry brown grass, and it was heard shattering amidst the screech of a cat.

Before the door of his truck had fully closed, he was screeching down the street, toward the beckoning smoke.  Rounding a bend in the narrow road, at 55 mph, he saw in the distance, someone in the middle of the street, waving their arms back and forth.  He slowed, and saw it was an Asian-looking woman, about 20-or-so.  He looked down at the passenger-side of the bench seat in his truck, confirming the presence of his trusty 11.65 mm handgun.  Coming to a halt, the woman rushed toward his side of the truck.

"Please...you must help me!"  "They are coming...Please!!!" 

He noticed that the smoke was rising through the trees just ahead of their position.  He yelled, "Get in!"

[MiStA PePPa]

"What's Going on? Who's coming?" He said. "They'll kill us both, they don't care!" She screamed. Barry slammed on the breaks, screeching to a stop. "Get out." Barry said firmly. "But they saw you with me, they'll kill you too, I'm the one that knows how to get away." She argued. "Tell me who they are first." Barry demanded.

[Zazoo]

As Barry leaned across the bench seat to open the passenger door the asian woman grabbed his arm, "The Russians! Please, please, go... NOW!"
Barry was dumbfounded, but the urgency in her manner was clear. The danger was real, at least in her mind. That and the smoke in the distance was enough for him right now. As Barry drove on a second loud THUMP sounded - this one much closer. The asian woman shrunk down in the seat, covering her head with her arms. In the rearview Barry watched as a second column of smoke rose in the distance.
Barry turned to the woman and was about to speak when a deafening blast at the front right of the truck instantly rendered the world in a series of silent, disconnected frames. The truck airborne, glass fragments frozen in space like rain drops. The truck touchingdown, sparks like stars as metal and asphalt met. The truck broken and at rest, the road and sky swapped. Silence and the world began to refocus.
Barry hung upsidedown from the bench seat of the truck, the seatbelt tight across his chest. The asian woman lay crumpled on the roof of the truck, her neck bent at an impossible angle. She did not move.
As he began to lose consciousness Barry watched the tracked wheels of something monstrous pass just outside the truck. Thoughts of his nightmare earlier that morning began to surface as the world around him faded to black.

[Da Fish]

The first sense to go was his sense of smell, the tang of cordite enveloping him as the ringing in his ears only increased. The darkness was closing in, fading through red to black. he felt dizzy, spinning round and round, as he felt something drip down his face. His end was near, the sense of life abandoning him slowly felt like a massive relief from his overworked shoulders.
Suddenly the spinning twisted through 90 degrees, and stopped. the sensation of taughtness arising from his shoulders became reality, but something wasnt right..... his head hit the ground with a thump.
Two hands clawed at his eyes, as a third went for his neck, he heard footprints, the hustle of people on a mission around him, fear crept back into his head, "not like this, there has to be better ways than this!". out of nowhere something scratched the back of his hand.
"Don't worry, there are!" He didnt recognise the accent. well not in real life any way. he needed to move and get away, somewhere safe. he sat up, he felt heavy, and got pushed back down again. "Stay the hell there" someone screamed at him.
Something whooshed over his head.
He opened his eyes.... They sure as hell weren't Russian. Or Jap'. what the hell was going on? he blinked, trying to put everything back into focus..... and then confusion crept up from his stomach and over whelmed every reflex.....
he opened his eyes again, staring at a pool of his vomit and looked up.

[BOBK]

The sun blocked his vision, and he began to loose his focus.

"Bluebird this is Bluefly...we have the package...say again...we have the package...over"
"copy Bluefly...move to the designated extraction point to your south, over"
"copy that Bluebird...moving to the south...Bluefly out."

"Tiara this is Bluebird, did you get that?"
...fita-fita-fita-fita-fita-fita-"We copy that Bluebird, we see the smoke.  We are moving to the extraction point now"...fita-fita-fita-fita.

"Roger that Tiara, contact us when you arrive"
fita-fita-fita-fita..."Copy that Bluebird, get back to you shortly...Tiara out"...fita-fita-fita-fita

Jarring movements aroused Barry Stone to semi-consciousness.  The continuous bouncing up-and-down told him he was being carried on someone's shoulder...someone powerful.  He sensed there were others moving with them. 

All too soon this moment of awareness began to fade out again, as he visualize the tanned, muscular hand of a familiar friend from the past, reaching out to stroke his sand-filled hair.  reggae music could be heard playing from a boom-box in the background.  As Barry looked up at the smiling, dreamy face of his past, he was brought back to full consciousness by a sudden, and painful drop to the ground.

[Zazoo]

"Patrick?" Barry moaned rubbing his head.
"No, my name is Jacob. Lt. Jacob Miller."
Barry slowly stood, his head begining to clear. The man before him, muscular though he was, was definitely no Patrick Swazye.
The Lt. helped Barry to his feet and reintroduced himself, "I'm Lt. Jacob Miller, our team was patroling the area when we saw your truck. You looked like you had been in there for some time. Unfortunately we could not help the woman who was with you."
Barry waved this off as if it was a minor detail. Rubbing his forehead he sat down on the pavement.
The Lt. crouched beside him, "Are you ok sir? We have a helicopter inbound, we'll get you medical attention once we are back at bas-"
Barry cut him off, "I'm fine, just a headache. Tell me, have you seen Patrick Swayze today?"
"The actor?"
"Yes, the actor."
"Um, no. Are you sure you're OK sir?"
Barry didn't answer.

[BOBK]

[Note: I know I've kinda stepped out of turn, but it seemed like a perfect time to return to the original characters, before they are forgotten]

"Any body know where the oatmeal is stashed?"
"Crime-in-itly, Margeret, it's where it always is!"  The reply came from another room.  The voice was female, but it was attempting to sound masculine, and grumpy.  "Uhhh...check the bathroom cupboard"

Margeret scouled at her neighbor's mocking of her husband's voice.  Her husband, Cliff, would always give her sarcasm instead of straightforward truth.  It just wasn't as funny, this time, with him not making it back home from his trip with the boys.  They had left Eugene a week ago, to pick up some supplies at a friend's place in Montana.  Cliff had told her that Gerald had plenty of left-over Army stuff from his days with his Reserve Medivac unit.  She knew there was little chance of getting in contact with him, but he was two days later than expected, and it worried her.

Her neighbor, Joanne came into the room, and said, "Those guys can take of themselves, Marge, they've been through it."

Marge looked up, and nodded, then she began to scan the room.  She glared at all of the clown posters tacked on all of the walls.  Everyone of them was adorned with hand drawn bulls-eyes, and every one of them were filled with dart marks.  With hand rubbing her chin, she gave the visual impression of having an idea.

"You tear'em down, and Cliff will have a major hissy-fit!"

Marge knew that Joanne was right.  Cliff loved to hate clowns.

[farmboy]

It wasn't really Cliff's fault.  When he was six years old, he'd gone to a carnival.  He went to meet the clown after the show to get an autograph.  No one knew quite what had happened, but he never liked clowns again after meeting Dr. Rockzo.

[Lazerblade]

Meanwhile, on a desolate road somewhere in Montana...

"I don't know how he does it, living all the way out here in no-man's land..."
"After being married to that gold-digging bitch for 5 years, I can see why he isolated himself."
"True that," Cliff said with a smirk, "although I still can't understand why he married her in the first place. She had a nice ass, and a rack like God himself hand-picked each tit. But hell, she wasn't exactly pretty in the face."
"Not to mention, why did she marry him?", pondered Greg. "As a retired Lieutenant, he wasn't exactly rolling in dough."
"Who knows. I heard his daddy had some money, but he hid it well."

As the old Chevy rattled around a bend on the mountain trail, Cliff and Greg gave each other a look of puzzlement. Ahead about 300 yards, carrying a dark green hiking pack, strolled a man in cowboy boots and denim, an old greasy baseball cap perched on his head like it was made specifically to stand post there for eternity.

Cliff eased the Chevy onto the gravel and grass beside the road, directly across from the hiker...