Category Archives: Apocalypse

Plastic Wrap, Dishwashers and other irritants…

Plastic Wrap, Dishwashers and other irritants…

Plastic wrap is one of those inventions that didn’t quite make it all the way to where it claims to have made it. Yes, on the TV you will see overpaid, starved models whip that stuff off the roll and cover just about anything: A bowl of leftovers, a piece of cake or grandpa sleeping in a chair. In Fried Green Tomatoes whats-her-name covered herself in it and answered the door. Heck, you see movies where the bad guys run it over the victims mouth and that’s it for them. In real life none of that is going to work, I know, I have tried most of it, except grandpa and the movie stuff, and the wife stuff. Okay, I have only tried the food applications and none of them worked.

I have stood for ten minutes waiting to get enough off the roll in one piece to cover that piece of cake only to have it come undone and fall to the floor on the way to the fridge. And It was work to get it of the roll. The serrated edge? Junk, doesn’t work at all. It comes off torn, at an angle, the tube lifts out of the box and you find yourself holding the plastic wrap roll and nothing else. I hate the stuff. Somebody needs to fix it or send it to the Chinese.

Dishwashers belong in that same group. A product that falls short of the hype and promises. Every day I find myself washing breakfast/lunch and dinner dishes, rinsing them and then putting them in the dishwasher. What? Do I really do that? Yes I do and in fact you are told to pre-wash the dishes and depending on what that means to you, you might as well have a towel so you can then dry them and put them away instead of putting them in the dishwasher to essentially let them get sprayed with hot water and soap so they can then go through a sixteen hour wash cycle (I say that because I don’t care when I started the damn dishwasher, it is on and burning me whenever I am in the shower) then they can sit overnight and dry, ha ha ha. In the morning you take them out and rewash the ones you didn’t pre-wash well enough when you put them in, only now that stuff is heated on. Or you could wait until you have company and let them spot the bad ones for you.

Electric cars are not where they should be. They are supposed to go in the garage, plug in to charge up and drive a long time. Instead they last a few hundred miles. If they get hit hard enough they become an instant bio hazard or worse you do. And when they run out of juice you are not getting some gas and a jump to get you going again. Short out the batteries and you have a steel framed car that will fry you in a few seconds.

Irritants:

Items on eBay marked: “I really don’t know if the item works so I’m selling it as is” Ha, let me translate that. It should read:  “I looked at the item and realized it was junk, so I said to my wife/husband, Honey? Let’s try to sell this on eBay.”

People who look at guitars and say “What’s that thingy do?”

People who look at computers and say “What’s that thingy do?”

Tinfoil: For some reason no matter how often I have reached into the oven and burned myself on tinfoil I immediately convince myself it didn’t happen. That must be the case because every time I am cooking something with foil I reach in there and grab it like it just has to be cool and then I burn the crap out of myself.

That is my Wednesday, hope your Wednesday is better, 🙂


Check out The Original Survivors series on Amazon:


Book One: The Original Survivors: From Ashes. The survivors face the apocalypse head on

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074B7T4MC

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/152195402X


Book Two: The Original Survivors: On The Road. Some who have survived are on the road looking for safety

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0749Y4M1R

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/152195433X


Book Three: The Original Survivors: Alabama Island. Follow a group of survivors through the beginning of the end

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074DJZX2J

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1521975515


Book Four: The Original Survivors: Bluechip. The story of how the apocalypse began

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074YH3ZRG

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1549541110



 

EARTH’S SURVIVOR’S AMERICA the DEAD: BOOK ONE

EARTH’S SURVIVOR’S AMERICA the DEAD: BOOK ONE

Based on the series by W. G. Sweet

Episode 1

PUBLISHED BY

independAntwriters Publishing

AMERICA the DEAD: BOOK ONE

Copyright © 2013 by independAntwriters All Rights Reserved

Writers: W.W. Watson, Geo Dell, W.G. Sweet, G.D. Smitty


This book, in this blog format, is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person please point them to this blog entry. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This material is not edited for content and is rated 18+


This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual living persons places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

This novel is Copyright © 2013 independAntwriters. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the authors permission.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print..


EARTH’S SURVIVOR’S – AMERICA the DEAD: BOOK ONE


CHAPTER ONE

June 1st

We were down along the river checking over some of the old buildings that perched on the cliffs high above the water. Summer was coming on full and we knew we had to get moving, get out of this dead city. We had half the country to cross and find a place before winter came back around again.

I was thinking back to March. Just two months ago but the world was still the world. And for the next little while there, we didn’t even know about the dead. Dead was still dead. When you closed your eyes for the long eternal sleep you didn’t wake up a short minute later as something else. No. We were ignorant up until a few weeks ago when they decided to come after us. Ignorant. Stupid. Didn’t know a thing: Have a clue. We didn’t know what the blue shit the government planes sprayed us with right after everything went to hell was. And I am still not convinced I know all there is to know, but I suspect things. I have been told things. I met a guy a few weeks back that said he worked at the Army base. He knew what it was. What I do know was it was designed to strengthen us. Keep us alive a little longer. Make us stronger somehow. Some dip shit scientist’s idea.

I suppose it was meant as a help for us. A help. The world slowed down, fell apart, everything stopped working. They knew they couldn’t get to us. We would die. So they sprayed the blue shit on us. And I could suppose further that some of us survived the last few months because of it. I can’t prove it but I suspect it did help us evolve into… I don’t know.. Whatever the hell we are now. I know we’re alive? I know our hearts beat. I still feel human and I truly think I am still human. If it made changes to the living they are very small changes… At least so far.

But the dead. Oh, the dead. That’s a different story. It did something else to the dead.

I walked along thinking my thoughts. I was lost in them, I’ll admit it. We were right in front of a line of cliffs that overhung the water, spread out a little, at least I was. It’s funny how you can forget to be careful so Goddamn fast. It was somewhere past midday when they came for us.

Mason! Mason!

Emma from a hundred yards down. The panic and fear in her voice made my heart leap into my throat, and because of her fear, and probably some of my own, I did a really stupid thing right then that cost me time. I was so panicked that I threw my rifle down and sprinted towards the sound of her voice. I got maybe twenty feet when the realization of what I had done hit me. It would have been comical to see the way I locked my legs up and tried to turn around ,before I had even come to a stop, if it had not been so Goddamned serious.

I had the rifle back in my hands, the safety off, just a fraction of a second later when Emma and Madison opened up on the UN-dead closing in on the mouth of the cave on the narrow trail up from the river. I added my fire to theirs before I had run another fifty feet and their leader, a shambling wreck of a corpse folded up and then flopped over the side of the trail and down into the river. I continued to run as I fired and was shocked to realize that I was screaming at the top of my lungs as I closed in.

Goddamn-son-of-a-bitching-goddamn-bastards,dead-fuckers!” All strung together, fear words. I did not hear them at first so I did not know when they started, and I could not shut them down once I did hear them, the panic and fear were just too hot.

I watched as, unseen by Emma and Madison a Zombie crouched on a narrow path above them swiveled his rotting head to me, seemed to take my measure with a wide, yellowed grin, and then dropped from the ledge on to Madison’s back.

No! Goddamn-son-of-a-bitches-dead-bastards-bastards!” I could not say Madison Look Out!Or speed up my feet or any other damn thing. Time had slowed, become elastic, strange, too clearly seen… The Zombie hit her hard and she folded like an accordion and was driven into the ground, a few hundred pounds of animated corpse riding her down into the dirt. Clawed hands clutching, mouth already angling to bite…To taste her…

I was still thirty or more yards away. I could not see how that could even be possible. I should have been closer but I was not. I saw Emma turn, panicked, take her eyes off the other UN-dead, and start towards Madison. Unchallenged the other Zombies closed ground far faster than they should have been able to. I saw the Zombie on Madison take a mouthful of her back and rip the flesh away from her spine. Emma’s rifle came up and barked and the zombie blew apart, raining down on Madison like a storm of red. Somehow I managed to switch to full auto, get my rifle up, and spray an entire one hundred round clip into the other Zombies where they rushed along the path towards Emma and the fallen Madison.

Madison screamed. Time leapt back into it’s proper frame and I found myself five feet away as Madison arched her back, screamed, and tried to stand. Blood ran in a perfect river from her gaping wound, across the white of her T-Shirt and down to the waist of her jeans.

I think… I think…” Madison tried.

Baby… Baby,” Emma sobbed. She dropped to her knees and pulled Madison to her. “Oh, Baby… Baby,” Emma sobbed.

I looked back up at the trail. Empty. At least of moving UN-dead. Three or four, it was hard to tell with the tangle of legs and arms, lay dead on the pathway. Silence descended. I heard a bird in the trees above calling as if nothing was wrong with the world. Emma sobbing. Madison crying, hysterically. The wind moaning through the empty buildings of the downtown area, which was set just back from the cliffs and the river on this side of town.

I was thinking… “That wind is colder. Colder even than when we started out this morning. Fall is here. Maybe it will slow those bastards down… We will be okay… My, God… They bit Madison… They BIT Madison!!!” I sagged to the ground my mind full of confusion and numbness.

Emma was sobbing uncontrollably, Madison had lapsed into shock. I was sitting crossed legged wondering where in Hell this would all end up, my rifle fallen from hands and laying on the ground next to me. Time spun out. Dragged. Seemed elastic once more, sticking in places and jumping ahead from those places to where it should have been had it continued to run properly.

Emma sobbing, holding Madison up. Kissing her forehead. Telling her how much she loved her… How she was her world… Madison… Eyes rolled back in her head… Face pale… Fine beads of sweat standing out on her forehead… Her back a bright slick of red running across Emma’s hands where she held her. Slowing… Slowing… Emma mouthing words in such slow motion that I could not understand what she said… Madison’s body sagging, eyes rolled up to the whites… Bright dots of blood speckled across Emma’s cheeks… Then time jumped, staggered, came back to normal and Emma was screaming and screaming…

No! … NO! … Not my… My, love, my Madison, my…” Collapsing to the ground with Madison, crying still… Softer but continuous.

“Emma…” My voice, but I did not know it at first. I actually stopped speaking and looked around, startled, before I realized it was me speaking. I turned my attention back to Emma. “Emma… Emma, it’ll be okay… It’ll be…”

“NO!….NO!” She scrambled back pulling Madison’s unconscious body with her. She wiped one hand across her eyes trying to stem the flow of tears… “NO! She’s… She’s okay… Okay… You can’t… You…” She broke down into sobs, pulled Madison to her and began dragging her away from me.

“Emma… Emma, it bit her… Bit her… Emma… Emma, it’s… It’s just you and me, Emma… It bit her… It bit her…”

She let go of Madison and lunged for her rifle. I sat, still cross legged, stupidly, as she grabbed it and leveled it at me.

“Get out,” She said very calmly. Much more calmly than I thought she should have been capable of.

“Emma… What are you doing… Emma.”

GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!” She screamed. I reared back as the rifle barrel came up and then slashed down across my face. I jumped back but not fast enough. The steel barrel smashed into my lower lip, through it and then hit my teeth. I immediately tasted blood, machine oil, and I could feel pieces of my broken teeth on my tongue. Sharp splinters.

The pain was delayed but it came never-the-less. Hard, heavy, fast, down into my lower jaw and then ricocheted back up into the top of my head. I scrambled backwards, tripped over my own rifle, got it into my hands and then time did that funny slowing, elastic thing again.

The blood dripped from my chin onto the ground. My rifle was pointed squarely at Emma, safety off, and an empty clip, but Emma didn’t know that. The blood dripped slowly. Emma’s eyes swam in and out of focus but remained on me. Her rifle barrel dipped and rose again, leveled on me.

She seemed to take a deep breath that went on forever, and then, once more, time sped up. “I’ll kill you,” Emma told me. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you… I will,” She started out strong but ended in a doubtful, whining whisper.

I didn’t drop my rifle barrel but held one hand out in front of me in a placating gesture. “Not touching anyone… Not,” I managed through my busted lip and broken teeth. The pain was a live, throbbing thing.

“You will… But… I know you will… You think… You think…” She seemed all at once to realize that she no longer held Madison in her arms. She took a deep shuddering breath and then dropped her rifle to the ground. She collapsed back down to the ground and crawled to Madison’s body.

I stood. Shocked. Not knowing what to do. Time side slipped. The bird went back to calling out, if it had ever stopped, the wind came back, blowing cold against my face, pushing the flush of heat that the situation had bought with it away, cooling the sweat on my brow. The bird called… Another picked it up and soon all of the birds were talking a though nothing at all had happened. It became a perfect storm of noise after the deepness of the silence. Time slipped away again, clouds moving across the cold, blue of the sky.

Emma sat, Madison pulled up into her lap, a large smear of maroon on her forehead, stroking Madison’s black hair. The birds called. The coldness of the wind seemed to bite at my bones. Nipping. Tasting. An Undead thing of it’s own.

I can’t tell you why I did it but I am glad I did. I pushed the button on the rifle butt, dropped the empty clip in to my waiting palm, and slid another up into the rifle where it socketed itself home with a solid click. I did it perfectly. Like I had been doing it all of my life instead of just the last six months since the Undead disease, epidemic, disorder, what-ever-the-fuck it was had happened. She never looked up. The birds didn’t stop singing their birdsong… Just in case, I told myself. Just in case.

I stood, my knees screaming, flexed experimentally and then walked a short distance away, leaning up against the cliff face. Emma’s voice had fallen to a barely audible whisper as she stroked Madison’s hair and held her. A private conversation. A private conversation in the wide open, which thanks to the UN-dead was a very private place. No one at all around, alive anyway, and the dead could care less about love, secrets, whispered promises, goodbyes. The UN-dead only cared about the hunger that seemed to drive them. Flesh, and more flesh… The time turned elastic once more and spun out of control for some unknown length. I only know that when I came back to myself the sun had moved across the sky. My thoughts were about darkness, Zombies, staying alive.

~

When I think back on it now I realize a noise had brought me back. Had to be, otherwise there was no reason for me to come back at all. Just stay gone. Let the sun go down and the UN-dead take the night, me, Emma, Madison and whatever else they wanted. But it didn’t go that way…

A noise. A sliding foot. A pebble falling from above… I really don’t know. I know that this time I reacted fast. My rifle came up, my mind was clear. I focused, two of them dropping from the cliffs above… Like cats… Like dead, stinking, feral cats… Dragging that stink of death with them. The stench of rotted flesh falling from the sky along with them and enveloping me even as I fired into them.

I had a choice. I couldn’t get them both. One falling at me, one falling at Emma where she sat with Madison cradled in her arms oblivious to everything around her. My reaction chose for me. The rifle came straight up and spat short, little barks of noise and flame. The Zombie started to come apart before it hit me. A shower of cold, dead blood rained down on me, splattered against my face. The body hit the barrel of the rifle and took me down to the ground clutching the rifle hard to keep from losing it as the full weight of the Zombie came down on it.

I kept it, but only by sheer determination. The Zombie had impaled herself onto the barrel. Her flesh so rotted that it had simply punched through her breast and out her back. I shoved her off as quickly as I could. One booted foot kicking against her chest. Knocking her apart, pulling the barrel back through the soft flesh and hard bone.

I expected to see Emma done for. I expected to see her dead or dying, but she had somehow ended up about twenty feet from where the Zombie had fallen. She looked herself as if she had no real idea how that had happened, but when I raised my eyes and they took in the whole scene before them, I saw exactly how it had happened..

Madison must have been awake. Laying there badly injured but not gone. Taking the comfort from Emma that she offered. When the Zombie fell she saw it. Saw it and managed to push Emma away from her and take the attack on herself.

The Zombie was no match for her, wounded though she was. She straddled the Zombie with a rock easily the size of her own head and bought it down hard. Once. Twice, and then I lost count and the Zombie quit fighting. The UN-dead dead again. This time for good.

The silence came back hard. Like a curtain on the last act of a play just when the audience isn’t expecting it. It crashed down.

~

Time did it’s elastic trick and then snapped back before I was ready for it. My senses were shot. A first I could not connect the dots of memory that I needed to connect to make sense of what my eyes were seeing.

Emma rose to shaky legs and started towards Madison. Sobbing once more. Madison’s eyes swiveled to me. A sick look in them and pain riding there too. She slumped forward, one wrist flapping uselessly and lunged for the rifle that Emma had had trained on me not that long ago. Time stopped it’s elastic trickery right around that time. I knew exactly what she intended to do before she did it. Emma stopped in mid stride and nearly fell backwards at the effort of stopping so quickly. I think she believed for a second that Madison intended to shoot her. I really believe she thought that, but that was not the plan and I knew that was not the plan. Because the plan that had resurfaced in her mind was the one we had talked about, half seriously, half jokingly for the last several weeks that we had been traveling together. Before she followed through on that plan I heard her tell it to me in my mind once again, the way she had several weeks before. Several weeks before when she had been unmolested… Whole.. Not about to join the ranks of the UN-dead herself.

“If I ever fuckin’ have to I won’t hesitate,” Madison had said, “Once I’m dead I don’t want to be alive again.” She shuddered and grimaced at the same time.

We had been in an old house on the outskirts of the city. We had had gas lanterns for light. The windows were boarded. The UN-dead scratched and cried and pleaded, but they could not get in. The four of us–John had still been alive then, in fact he had died just two days later… Fell through a rotted section of floor in that same old house… Impaled himself on a pipe in the basement… Madison had shot him in the head nearly as soon as he had stopped his struggles. Emma had bent double and vomited. I had held it in but barely–but that night John had been alive, he had still been with us. With us as we listened to the sounds of the UN-dead that were trying to get us. To kill us. To eat us. To satisfy their ceaseless hunger. In the flickery light from the gas lanterns, she had said it, and he had nodded his head, agreeing immediately with what she had said. And I had not. It had not been a real thing to me until two days later when John had died and she had wasted no time. None. “He would have expected it,” she had said, and nothing more. But that night… That night she had said it right out. Like a mantra. Like looking into the future and seeing this day.

“If they come for me? If they get me? I’ll put a bullet in my own head. I will . I swear I will.”

And Emma had begun to cry. “Don’t say it, Maddy… Don’t say it.” And she hadn’t said it again, but it didn’t matter. She had already spoke it into truth. I had heard it. I had heard it and I knew she meant it.

And now… Time stopped it’s trick. She jammed the rifle under her chin and squeezed the trigger… Her head exploded in a spray of red and gray. I swear I could hear the sounds of small bits of bone and blood pattering down to the ground. And then the silence was roaring again.

I took a breath, another… And then Emma began to scream once more…

~

It’s been three weeks. I thought Emma would never talk again. I believed she wouldn’t right up until she did yesterday.

I just kept us moving. Out of the city and south. Walking days, seeking refuge at night. The zombies smell us, you know. They can smell us for miles. So at night it’s strong places. Strong places where they can’t get in and then hope like hell these were not some of the new breed, the ones that didn’t seem to have a need to avoid the day, and they would be gone in the morning.

I started carrying a radio the other day. Clips on the belt. FM. Picks up a lot of talk during the day. There’s a place that a lot of the people I hear from have heard about. In the middle of no place. Somewhere in Kentucky… Tennessee. Some swear they have even talked to the people that founded this place. I had never heard them myself until today, but the word I had heard was that it was a safe place. That it is open to everyone.

So that is where I’ve been walking us too. I don’t know who these people are. If they even exist, I only know the whole world is fucked up. I have come to understand that even if I get us as far South as I can, we wont make it for long. We’re only two. The dead are getting smarter. And that is not just my point of view. It’s on the radio. They all say it.

L.A. and New York both are barely hanging on. Both! Barely hanging on! Nearly over run! If they can’t make it how can we? No. I’m heading for this place. I’m hoping it’s real. Today on the radio I caught something. Someone named Conner. I heard that name. And it sounded like he was talking about the same place I have heard about. I’m just hoping it’s true. That I didn’t just imagine it to assuage my mind.

Meantime I am trying to keep us alive. Find strong places to stay through the nights. There are strong places. Places you can find if you give it some thought. Stairwells in highrises. Steel and concrete. They can’t get through those doors. Deep freezers in grocery stores. Heavy steel doors. Vehicles if you have to and we have had to. You can find a big truck with a steel trailer. The roads are jammed with them. They can’t get in there either. A little fire at night if I can. The Zombies are afraid of fire. Don’t like the smell of smoke. Canned stuff to eat. Christ, we’ll be eating canned shit until we die. Get up the next day and push on. Get moving again. And that is what I’ve done. Kept us moving. Kept us safe. And she came willingly, although silently, like a big, semi animated puppet. And then yesterday she was walking beside me, silent as she had been since the thing with Madison, and she spoke.

“I don’t like beans, Mason. I just don’t… Maybe we could find something different tonight?” She had lifted her voice at the end and made it into a question. I stopped in the middle of walking between an abandoned car and a wrecked, burned out truck. Months old. I looked back at her. She smiled, tentative at first but then it lit up her face. I had to laugh. I had had so much pent up inside me.

“The beans are a bit much then,” I asked?

“A bit,” she agreed.

I stood for a second not knowing what to say.

“You could say, welcome back,” she said softly

“Welcome back,” I repeated every bit as quietly. “Welcome back…”


Available from Barnes and Noble

Book oneSeries link


Geo Dell with Tech Support and a Zombie Plagues link

Posted by Geo 07-20-2017

Do you have anyone in your life that means a great deal to you? Stupid question, right? We all do. But, no, we all don’t. There are people who close the door on relationships and slap some padlocks on it and say, “That’s it! No one else gets in!”. So it isn’t really a stupid question when you get down to the real level where things do matter. I did not have anyone in my life that mattered on that level. Yes, some family, but family can live without you, often does. No serious relationships. No reaching out for anything either. The doors were locked. I don’t usually wax heavy here and I wont, I would just say that yes, the world can be a bad place sometimes, but if you keep the doors shut you’ll never know how good it could have been. Just food for thought, not really trying to go anywhere with this line of thought. Okay, I’ll move on.

Let me relate this story to you. This actually occurred. I’m not taking a swipe at anyone at all here and I suppose I could have seen this a different way, not humorous, but I tend to try to find humor in things…


Tech support:

So I’m at the dollar store with Mom a few months back at she spies these pink cell phones and decides to buy one to support Breast Cancer and it’s a good cause and it says it’ll be so easy to move your number, set it up. A snap, plus it comes with a Cadillac full of minutes and a camera, and, well, it’s pink. So she buys it. I was for it because I am a cheap kind of guy and I would end up with her old phone which is perfectly fine, it’s just old. It’s been perfect for four years. No problems. Just ate minutes and pooped data, or phone calls. Bad analogy there but you get the idea. So, great phone, just old and a new one beckoned. I would bet there are people reading this who have almost gotten into relationship problems using that same reasoning. Funny the double standards we have, eh?

So, she buys the phone, we go home and I go to work on the computer because other than working and chasing Horny Tom Cat’s away from my cat that’s about all I do. So I typed away for a few minutes, but I kept hearing these sighs and mutterings, so finally I said… “Uh, Mom… Everything okay?”

Let’s set the record straight I knew everything was not okay, but I was hoping for an answer like “I’m taking this $#@%^ phone back it is junk!” Yes. I was actually hoping for that answer. Instead, I got … “I can’t figure it out. I’m doing exactly what it says…”

Okay,” I soothed. I am a man. I know how to fix these things and most of the time I don’t even have to read the manual. I didn’t say that. I have learned not to say it because it just turns out to be that one time when I can’t do it and I look stupid. So I took the phone and spent the next hour doing all the same things Mom had and getting nowhere.

$#@**%# Phone,” I said.

I told you,” Mom agreed. “There’s a number to call.” She held up a piece of paper and I couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t given me the piece of paper earlier when I could have possibly used it, but then I reminded myself that I never would have used it anyway.

Hmmm.” I frowned and looked over the number. “So. You have a phone that doesn’t work and they give you a tech number to call.”

Well, you have the other one.”

Yes, but what if I didn’t?”

Mom shrugged and I realized the stupidity of my own question, still, didn’t it sort of make sense? Isn’t it sort of like offering a drunk a drink while he waits for the AA meeting? I don’t know. Reluctantly I punched the number into the other cell phone, pretty much jammed the end of the cell phone halfway into my brain and waited.

The phone stopped burring and a Voice came on the line. Computer voice. Push one for billing issues, two if you’ve had an affair with a politician, three for technical support. I pushed three but I didn’t push it fast enough because the whole thing played again. I ended up having to call back and immediately press three.

Now, let me say this delicately, why would you get a job in tech support for American consumers if English is not your first language? And, why would a major company hire you? After thirty seconds of trying to understand the woman I gave the phone to Mom hoping the kindred spirit thing would kick in but no, she couldn’t understand her either. She gave me back the phone. Apparently womaneez doesn’t cross the language barriers easily.

It must have been about two hours later and the third string of numbers the woman had given me before the phone finally began to work.

You are being happy with your experiences?” The tech asked me.

Are you serious,” I asked?

Yes. Of Course. Serious is what I am being.”

Oh God,” I said aloud. “Have you ever heard this?”

Yes? I am Listening.” She obviously thought we had bonded.

I hung up. Mean, I know.

Two days later there was a recall on Mom’s Coffee Maker. I called tech support.

Yes? I am being happy to be taking your call.”

Never mind I’ll buy a new one.” I said.

A week later my new laptop croaked. I called customer service.

Yes? I can be helping you?”

What? Do you work for the Coffee maker place?”

No. That is my sister, Sari.”

Tech support…..

Okay. That’s it for this week. Check out my book series. I’ll be back next week…

Check out the Zombie Plagues below…

The Zombie Plagues: Get book one: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/357698

Writers and how we think

Writers and how we think

Writing Posted by Geo

Writers… We often sit around and think things like this…

It was a warm winter that year…”

No, no, no… Hmm…

It was the winter of our…” No, already used… Damn…

Winter came quickly to the north country as it was wont to do. My brother and I had just come around to our turn to wear the fall coats, there were only the two coats for the fifteen of us children. With them, we were able to play outside while our siblings were stuck inside. It would have been better if we had also had the shoes, but it wasn’t our turn yet…”

No, no, no. Too melodramatic…

It was a long, cold winter. The cat had a litter sometime in there. A few kittens, maybe four. I often wonder what happened to those kittens. I only know we had meat for Christmas that didn’t in the slightest resemble Turkey…”

No, no, no… It was the dog…

The dog had a litter that winter… They were fast growing puppies and by December they were half grown, as fat and sassy as could be. I remember petting the one I had named Dingo on the head just before bed a few nights before Christmas. I remember that clearly, yes I do, and it was the last time I ever saw Dingo…. I think so anyway. It’s tough to tell. All I know is that we had meat for Christmas dinner. A small ham, Mom said., but it didn’t resemble any ham I’d ever seen…”

Geo!”

Yes, mom?”

PETA called, knock it off.”

Yes, mom.”

It was a long cold winter that year. The rats in the basement had eaten the corn crop and left us starving… Daddy said we wouldn’t have to resort to eating rats, but as he headed toward the basement with a claw hammer I wondered…”

By Geo Dell.


Hey! Check out the Zombie Plague on NOOK! By me!


The Zombie Plagues Book One (A FREE Nook eBook!)

What if the world ended tomorrow? What would you do? Would you be able to survive?

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-zombie-plagues-book-one-geo-dell/1116974111?ean=9781492798668


The Zombie Plagues Book Two

The Zombie Plagues books follow a small group of men and women as they struggle to survive on a vastly changed earth

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-zombie-plagues-book-two-geo-dell/1116974114?ean=9781492798743


The Zombie Plagues Book Three

Life is good for those who are lucky, but out in the real world it’s a different story…

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-zombie-plagues-book-three-geo-dell/1117027340?ean=9781492798798


The Zombie Plagues Book Four: The Outrunners

I saw the Zombie on Madison take a mouthful of her back, just below the curve of her neck…

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-zombie-plagues-book-four-geo-dell/1117475716?ean=2940045439084


The Zombie Plagues: Book Five

The Fifth Book picks up the Story of Billy and Beth and their flight out of the ruins of L. A.

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-zombie-plagues-geo-dell/1121785682?ean=2940151878876


The Zombie Plagues Dead Road: The Collected books.

Contains books 1 thru 6. Books One through five were published, book six was not…

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-zombie-plagues-dead-road-geo-dell/1124233945?ean=2940153142777

The weekend is creeping up on me

Posted By Dell Sweet 06-29-17

The weekend is creeping up on me. I think someone stole a few days and tried to slip one over on me. Or I would, except it really is Thursday. The image is a herd of deer in my side yard. There were actually about eight of them when I first spotted them.

I would like to mention the book Zero Zero. I wrote this book some time ago, as in years, and it is only now available. I write an end of the world book series, Earth’s Survivors, and this book is in the same vein. Different, but I think equally good. I mean that.

I was talking about this place today with someone today. How it did not start out to be an indie publishing vehicle, but simply an outlet for my own digital book copies. Now there are nine writers here and I doubt it will stop there.

I guess we don’t say much about ourselves so maybe now is a good time to do that. We are all writers. This site was first started to create a space for Writers, Musicians and Artists. We have many of each and many who do all of those things. One thing I have come to realize is that creative people wear many hats, not just one or two.

None of us own the site, but three of us work here fulltime. Yes that makes it nice, we get to write as we write. In fact it is encouraged. The owner is not a writer or a musician or an Artist. She enjoys all three things and many others though and so she gave us this and allowed us to develop it and build it. That did not happen the way some of us saw it happening.

I can’t speak for the others but I saw a site where writers, artists and musicians all hung out and marketed their work. Now we have a site where all those things have occurred. The writers, musicians and artists are here, we talk all day sometimes, back and forth, give advice or work on projects, etc. If someone asks me to help, I do. I wrote two of my most successful short stories that way. One of the other writers wanted to publish an anthology and wanted some of my work in it. Something new. Something different. Okay. I offered Zombie Fall and Rapid City. Neither of those stories would have happened if I had not been in that creative process with others.

There are top grade musicians here. I do my own music. I used to play in bands years ago. But I have not stuck with it: Although I love it I have too many other obligations on my time. So I have turned to other musicians to catch up on the new technology, so to speak, because three of my characters in the Earth’s Survivors books write music and I want to be able to provide that music on the website as it evolves.

My point is that the creative processes here are really good. They help all of us to be better at what we do, and in some cases write things we would not have written, and, the big deal, it is not what we had planned to build here. And it continues to grow. I couldn’t be happier and I’m glad to be a small part of it too.

I believe I mentioned before that I am a tech wizard, well, at least in my own head, but, I am common sense stupid. Lacking, sadly, in that small area of the brain that says ‘What?’ or ‘Hey wait a second!’ Nope. My brain just says, ‘Yeah, go ahead, who cares,’ or, ‘Hey, it ain’t my problem, know what I mean?’

Here’s an example: I picked up a screwdriver yesterday that I had bought in case I needed it. Brilliant, because, six months after I bought it? I needed it. Brilliant. There is the brain in action. I did not have to go buy one, simply go get it and use it. But since I needed it I had to open it. Except it was packaged in that stiff, molded, welded-plastic stuff. You know, the stuff that was predicted to be gone soon because Walmart supposedly hated it? And because there were several injuries reported after trying to tear it open. Yes. That is the knowledge I had when I picked up the package, that it could hurt me. I think that is as far as my common sense thinking went because immediately my Brain said, ‘Yeah, may be, but it won’t hurt me.’ No explanation as to why it wouldn’t, just that it wouldn’t. And that is the problem with my lack of common sense. My dumb self went… ‘Okay’ and immediately began to try to rip the package open.

After ten minutes and two cuts I gave up and admitted that my brainiac self had duped me again, bandaged my two hurt fingers, thanked God I had not lost a limb, and marveled over why we don’t issue this to our soldiers. They could present it to the enemy… ‘Here. Enjoy this Swiss Army knife that you can use to stab me to death.’ Our Soldier Smiles at his enemy. The enemy looks suspicious, but I have found a lack of common sense is a pretty, well, common thing. Especially in undeveloped countries that don’t know what that stuff is. So he tries to open it and end up slicing himself all up. Great weapon. I’m sure it could work.

Eventually, with the help of a pair of scissors, I did get the screw driver out, but I cut myself once more because the edge where I had cut it was so sharp. And I wondered, because people who lack common sense often wonder about stupid things and I am no exception, what if you bought a pair of scissors encased in that crap? And you bought them because you had to have them to open that sort of packaging?. What could you do? Could you go back to the store and use a complimentary pair of scissors to cut open the packaging? Could you go get your carpenters knife (Razor Knife) and slice it open with that? (I did this once while holding the packaging on my lap. NOT Recommended.). Do you even have or own a Carpenter’s Knife? Could you run over it with the car and break the packaging? Nope. Doesn’t work. Nevertheless, I thought of all these things anyway. No, I decided, I would bend the package until the scissors popped through. That would work. So now I plan a trip to my local Walmart so I can buy a pair of scissors and try my theories. And once I get them open I’m going to run with them and see if that old wives’ tale is true. I mean, after all, how can it be dangerous if you don’t fall? I don’t plan to fall.

Well that’s my week. I hope your work week so far had some amusement in it for you as mine did. It’s a beautiful night here in New York, 68 degrees and low humidity. I just mowed the lawn a little while ago, so add the smell of freshly mowed grass to that. If I had a pond and a fishing pole I’d be all set, but I do have a chair and a porch and I think I’ll go watch the sunset. I like the way my characters in my books get to do that. They think of those things, maybe because they have lost so much. They take time to enjoy and appreciate those simple pleasures now. Enjoy the Week… Dell.


Take a look at Rising from the ashes…

EARTH’S SURVIVORS #prepper Rising From The Ashes: I-Tunes From L.A. To Manhattan lawlessness is the rule, eBook… https://goo.gl/xddmoT

The extinction theory and links for a FREE eBook

A LITTLE OF EVERYTHING AND HUMOR FROM DELL SWEET

Good morning to you all. It is Friday, you did make it through the work week and so you should be rewarded and congratulated for that. Unfortunately I’ll have to leave most of that up to your boss, wife, husband, friend, bartender, dealer, massage parlor worker, person who cleans your windshield and or changes your oil. But I can give you a free story this morning to help ease you into the weekend and free is always good 🙂

I have come to look at the extinction of the dinosaurs in a whole new light.

Over the last few years with Global Warming, or the natural earth cycle, whatever it is, the weather patterns have been crazy. Snow when there shouldn’t be snow. Rain where there never has been rain. No rain where there always has been. Golf ball size hail is common and baseball size is not unheard of in pretty much any weather disturbance.

Let me share this conversation I had with my neighbor, a few days back; … … …

No… It wasn’t raining, it had finished raining, it was in between the end of raining and drying up. There were hardly any of those little plop things in the puddles.”

“Plop things,” I asked?

“Yeah, you know where the rain drop falls in and makes the little circle things that go out and… well they are sort of like little tiny waves, rolling across the surface of a tiny little ocean….” He got a faraway look in his eyes and fell silent.

“Uh, Bob?” his name is Bob.

“Yeah?”

“You kind of zoned out there,” I told him. “But I understand the thing about the plop… I think…” he started to speak. “No, I do. I do understand it completely.”

Bob nodded. “Good… It’s kind of hard to explain… Did you ever wonder if there’s tiny little life down there… you know and the mud puddle to them really is an ocean… and.” He looked up, smiled and cleared his throat. “Well, you know.”

“Uh… sure… Once or twice I think… So, uh, you were saying about the hail?”

In between us a raccoon that lived in the woods behind us lay dead… Presumably dead. I had not checked for a pulse or attempted mouth to mouth, but it had been hit in the head with a chunk of hail roughly the size of a hardball while crossing from Bob’s property to mine. Bob had seen the whole thing, come over and got me away from my typing long enough to come out and look at the raccoon and the chunks of ice that had fallen from the sky. I looked up now. Not entirely sure more wouldn’t fall. I was not a raccoon, but I was still sure a chunk of ice that big could probably kill me too.

“Yeah… Got me spooked too,” Bob said and looked up at the sky.

“So…” I asked looking back down.

“Yeah, well… So I was coming out of the shed, getting the pots for my spring plantings, sun has to shine eventually, and here comes Martha (Martha was his pet name for the Raccoon) probably thinking I had a treat for her. So I’m fixing to get the peanuts out of my pocket, I keep them for her… You know, they was on sale two years ago at the A&P so I bought three cases of them.” He seemed to lose himself for a moment.

“Yeah… The A&P does have some good deals,” I allowed. I was glad it was not me eating three year old peanuts.

“Oh yeah. Last week they had Captain Crunch… She likes that too… I didn’t have any Captain crunch in my…”

Martha farted and Bob jumped back three feet.

“God!” Bob declared. Nothing else happened for a few moments and Bob looked up at me. “You suppose?”

“Just a natural thing,” I said. It had made me jump too though. Not pleasant to think that after you pass you’ll still be passing. The thought almost made me laugh which Bob would have taken the wrong way so I bit it back and listened as he resumed talking.

He had bent down and picked up a large hardball sized chunk of ice. There were several close by her, but he fixed on the one. “So she’s coming and the rain’s letting up, and, well, did you know she don’t like the rain? I think most raccoons are like that. They don’t like the rain. So… Where was I?”

“The rain,” I said reluctantly. It had been my chance to speed it up by telling him he was telling me about the hail hitting her in the head and I had blown it.

“Right, the rain… Hmm… Oh,” he snapped his fingers, “That’s how I know it was done raining. She wouldn’t have come out other wise.”

Martha farted again.

Bob looked offended, but neither of us jumped this time. “You think she’s just gonna keep doing that,” Bob asked?

I shrugged… “Maybe,” I allowed.

“Whoooeee,” Bob said fanning his face.

I was down wind.

Bob shuffled a little sideways. “Must have been the Captain Crunch.” We both stood silent for a few moments, staring down at the dead, farting raccoon.

“So,” I said at last.

Bob looked puzzled.

“Uh, the hail…. The accident… Poor Mable,” I gestured at the dead raccoon.

“Oh… Oh…” Bob said. “Martha… It’s Martha,” Bob said.

“Sorry, Bob. Martha,” I repeated.

Bob Nodded. “Well, anyways, dropped right out of the sky and conked her right in the frigging’ head.” He nodded.

I nodded for him to continue.

“Oh… That’s it. Conked her in the head. Fell right down… Never said nothing after that. Not even a … a … Well, what ever a raccoon would say after getting hit with a chunk of ice.”

I nodded. Mister sympathy. Martha farted again. Bob made a face and shifted a little sideways.

“I suppose she would have said something like. Well, if racoons could talk. I know they can’t, I’m just saying, she might have said something like … ‘Son of a bitch that hurt!’ or ‘My God that was a big chunk of ice!’ but she never said a word at all. Just bang in the head and she dropped in her tracks… Just like you see her.” Martha farted once more as if to punctuate Bob’s words. “Had to be the Captain Crunch.,” Bob said quietly. “Well, anyhow,” Bob continued un-prompted, “Hail? Hail the size of a baseball? In Spring? Up here?” Bob was tossing the question marks around like he had a pocket full of them instead of peanuts.

I nodded. “I’ve never seen it,” I agreed. And I hadn’t in my fifty plus years of living in upstate New York.

“I been here all my eighty two years,” Bob said. “Never seen nothing’ like it… Hail the size of baseballs…”

Martha twitched, farted again and then raised her head slowly from the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” Bob said.

I muttered something a little more colorful.

Martha looked over at Bob, then swung her head around at me, managed to get her feet under her and wobbled a few steps.

“Son of a bitch,” Bob repeated. I must confess I repeated a few of those colorful words too.

Martha wobbled a few more times, let loose of one more long high-pitched fart, and then waddled over to Bob. Bob just stared down at her stupidly for a moment and then reached into his pocket and came out with a handful of lint covered peanuts. I stood and watched for a few moments as Bob fed her, but I hate to see old men cry so I kind of faded into the background. Besides, I’m pretty sure Bob forgot I was there.

My point is, global warming, or whatever it is, is ruining the world. Making it a tough place to live in. I envision the whole dinosaur extinction as going something like this. … … …

Fred the dinosaur is standing in his yard staring down at a tiny, dead little human. His buddy Ralph happens by.

Ralph: “So, what’s up there, Fred? Got your self a little meal there?”

Fred looks up and frowns. “No. It was my little friend,” He turns and points towards the cliffs a short way away. “Lives over there… Comes out every day or so… Likes those little furry things with horns?” He looks at Ralph and Ralph nods.

“I think they call them ‘Furry things with four feet,’” Ralph supplied.

It was Fred’s turn to nod. “Yeah, so, anyway, I keep one around, you know, they’re easy to catch. And I leave some for him…”

“And, “ Ralph prompted?

“And, the ice just fell out of the sky and bashed him in the head…”

“Well, you could eat him,” Ralph said. “Seems a waste to…”

The human rolled over, farted and looked up at Fred.

“Son of a bitch,” Fred said. “And you wanted to eat him.”

“Well… You could still eat him,” Ralph said.

“You make me sick sometimes,” Fred said. He shuffled over to the human, carefully helped him to his feet and steered him towards the pile of meat he had left for him.

“You know, just blue skying it here, Fred. But let’s suppose this whole weather thing is a … a … A harbinger of things to come? More bad weather? You know… What, Fred, If it’s the end for us? As a species!”

Fred strode across the short distance, flicked his tail and knocked Ralph off his feet. “You are over reacting, Ralph. Where do you get theses crazy ideas from?”

Ralph picked himself up, glancing over at the human who seemed to be amused by the whole situation. “Just repeating what they say. They say maybe our time is through and soon the world will be left to the humans. Imagine… Us extinct,” Ralph finished.

Fred laughed, a loud roar that caused the human to shrink back. “Nonsense! Humans take over the world? Where do you hear these things?”

And… That was probably it right there. The beginning, same as it is for us. Maybe two million years from now there will be a couple of cockroaches standing out in their adjoining yards. … …

“So, Darren, did you see that chunk of ice that dropped out of the sky?”

…………………………………………………………………..

Hey, have a good weekend!

A Free eBook For you…

A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in a desperate struggle to survive. Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse:

iTUNES: Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse