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Ok, this is Chapter 1 of 'The Icy Wastes' ENJOY!!
(that means you Archon!!)
Icy Wastes by ‘Sirov’ *-* Chapter I - The Fight
_____________________
The wind howled over the deep crisp snow. A line of footprints stretched for miles over the icy wastes, a dark leather clad figure stood over a dead bear. He built a small campfire and tore a piece of bear flesh off, cooked and then ate it.
‘Where next…’ he thought to himself. He shivered even though he was wearing a thick black balaclava and a thick fur-lined leather jacket. He had a long deep red scar all the way down his arm and tattoo of a gray wolfhound on the other arm. He had short brown hair and bright blue eyes. He carried a pack on his back full of all the things he needed to survive the ice and wind.
‘I need some supplies, my ammo’s running a tad low’ He thought as he spat a small bone onto the snow and pulled a small very dog-eared and ripped old hand-drawn map from his inside pocket and browsed it over, every town had a label saying what could be bought or sold there or if there was adequate places to sleep for the night and also if there was any good eating establishments in the area. He put his finger on Jelenskij, which had the label ‘Gun Store, Brilliant Bar’ and a smiley face in blue biro. He turned his head westward and saw the golden-pink sun sinking over the flat horizon. He stared at the blurred reflection on the snow and sighed. His breath hung in the air as if waiting for something. He packed his things away, stamped out his small fire, slung his Kalishnekof onto his back and trudged wearily southward.
Two days later he came to the top of a huge glacial valley and looked down. He saw a massive river flowing north, towards to the rough storm-swept ocean. He saw a relatively small town, all built from wood probably collected many years ago from the vast wood that was set into the valley wall on the north side. The little cabins were covered with thick, white snow and long, thin icicles hung from the frozen guttering. There was much activity coming from the buildings. The traveller found a small track and followed it down the valley side towards Jelenskij. He found a wall surrounding the town which was previously not visible. He walked around until he found the town gates and as life always is he chose to go the long by accident...
It seemed that the town was preparing for something. People were running about with carts and small forklift trucks all carrying boxes or crates full of food and other supplies.
“Excuse me, my name is Sirov, I’m new in these parts and I couldn’t help wondering what everyone is doing?” asked our leather-clad man, to a friendly looking old man carrying some bags towards a big hole set in the valley side.
“They’re are coming...” he said.
“Who?” asked Sirov.
“Huge men, big, green, massive guns. Our scouts saw a small base they had made in the wastes west from here. We are taking our supplies into the old vault for protection. Then women and children will be temporarily sealed in and the men will stay out here and fight the attacks. We must defend our town...”
“Mutants? Phhhtt, yeah right, I hope you know that all that is just bullshit rumors. What’s your name by the way?”
“It’s Ivan, and they ain’t no rumors, not from what I’ve been hearing. I’m scared anyways. I don't care about rumors, if it is true we’re screwed.”
“I guess so. I’m going to have a look myself. I’ll tell you when I get back okay?”
“All right then, that’s if you get back.”
“Shut up, I’ll be back before you think.”
“See ya’ later then. I’ll tell Peter, the mayor about you.”
Sirov walked out and got a boat-ride across the river from a friendly but reluctant peasant. He took a small path marked out with small black stones up the other side of the valley. He walked out over the wastes towards where Ivan said the mutants were. He had to avoid a small pack of wolves. He fended of a family of bears and then he saw it. A small camp, two tents with a sputtering fire in the middle. Three hunched figures were sitting on logs around it chatting. They were certainly bigger than most but they could be enhanced by those clever doctors in Berinsk. Sirov crept around but couldn’t catch even a glimpse of their faces. So instead he listened to what they were saying. They had deep creaky voices and spoke as if they didn’t know much English.
“This place cold.” said one who had a flame thrower on his back a small tank of fuel strapped onto it.
“Yeah, and flying thing loud.” said another with a huge plasma rifle clasped in his lap.
“Shut up, you two, you both drive me crazy.” The third figure sounded more educated and spoke more like a normal person.
“Hey, you not the boss, it meeee.” said the first.
Then as Sirov watched the first figure pulled his hood off and revealed a green, rough skinned face, covered in dark green splits and scars. The lump of mutated crap pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it in the fire.
Sirov listened to their voices but he wasn’t concentrating on them. He was thinking.
‘So the rumors are true... this is bad... but where the hell is this small base... now that was a rumor... well anyway these three must be stopped... maybe if they don’t get back then their superiors will think that Jelenskij is too heavily defended and not come back... mmmmmm... well what have got to lose...’
Sirov stood up slowly and took aim at the fuel tank with his M-16. The bullets left his gun like a stream of water and hit the tank unlike a stream of water. There was an ear-splitting explosion and Sirov threw himself to the ground, so it seemed did the second and third mutants. The first was blown apart and giblets flew in all places as the explosion ripped through his huge green muscled body. The third mutant yelled,
“Who the hell was that? Show yourself and you won’t be harmed...” in a rusty voice.
“I think you forgot one thing, your standing behind a tent.” Sirov yelled back as he let a second stream of bullets from his M-16. They ripped through the tent canvas like a lion clawing at paper. The mutants scream echoed in Sirovs head as he imagined the green monster thud into the snow.
“You also forget one thing, I have plasma, you have small gun.” said the second apparently unharmed mutant. A small bolt of red plasma came through the tent leaving a small charred hole and disappeared into the snow with a hiss and a tiny plume of steam. Sirov dodged away and went round the other tent. He saw the stupid mutant furiously pumping away at his rifle at where he thought Sirov still was. As quietly as a mouse Sirov lifted his gun and click... click, click...
“Oh crap.” said Sirov loudly and then jumped behind a boulder as the mutant turned and shot. Sirov yelled in pain as a plasma bolt skimmed his ankle and burned some his skin away with it. Sirov could feel the plasma bolts hitting the rock and with each hit he winced. Hurriedly he took the empty magazine and threw at in the general direction of the mutant hoping to temporarily confuse the dumb creature. He searched his pockets and realized his ammo was in his pack which still near his original hiding place. He had to find another way before the rock gave to the repeated plasma hits. He could now the feel the shots were much closer to him. The rock was being eaten away at by the plasma bit by bit. Sirov got flat on his belly and felt the cold snow against his neck. He crawled towards his pack but the pain in his ankle was too intense. He crept round the other way and ended up behind the mutant who had by now stopped firing and was looking around. It seemed he was also out of ammo. ‘Well that makes two of us.” Sirov thought as he watched. Then with a surge of anger and strength he stood up and lunged towards the mutant who had drawn a pistol. Sirov dug his knife as hard as he could into the back of the mutant’s neck. The mutant groaned and turned fired two shots at Sirov then fell and hit the floor. Sirov saw as in slow motion the bullets flew in quick succession and hit his arm and fell straight through. Sirov looked at his wound. He could feel no pain at all. Then it hit him after almost five seconds. The searing pain flew up his arm and into his head. He screamed and fell to the floor.
A few minutes later two silhouetted figures rose from the bushes.
“Is he okay?” the first asked the other as they bent over Sirov’s limp body.
_____________________
well, now that you've read it (i hope), you now have the right to comment... WHAT DO YOU THINK???
_________________
"there are three types of people : those who can count and those who can't"
-*-
"Five out of Four people have trouble with fractions"
SIROV of the Icy Wastes
(that means you Archon!!)
Icy Wastes by ‘Sirov’ *-* Chapter I - The Fight
_____________________
The wind howled over the deep crisp snow. A line of footprints stretched for miles over the icy wastes, a dark leather clad figure stood over a dead bear. He built a small campfire and tore a piece of bear flesh off, cooked and then ate it.
‘Where next…’ he thought to himself. He shivered even though he was wearing a thick black balaclava and a thick fur-lined leather jacket. He had a long deep red scar all the way down his arm and tattoo of a gray wolfhound on the other arm. He had short brown hair and bright blue eyes. He carried a pack on his back full of all the things he needed to survive the ice and wind.
‘I need some supplies, my ammo’s running a tad low’ He thought as he spat a small bone onto the snow and pulled a small very dog-eared and ripped old hand-drawn map from his inside pocket and browsed it over, every town had a label saying what could be bought or sold there or if there was adequate places to sleep for the night and also if there was any good eating establishments in the area. He put his finger on Jelenskij, which had the label ‘Gun Store, Brilliant Bar’ and a smiley face in blue biro. He turned his head westward and saw the golden-pink sun sinking over the flat horizon. He stared at the blurred reflection on the snow and sighed. His breath hung in the air as if waiting for something. He packed his things away, stamped out his small fire, slung his Kalishnekof onto his back and trudged wearily southward.
Two days later he came to the top of a huge glacial valley and looked down. He saw a massive river flowing north, towards to the rough storm-swept ocean. He saw a relatively small town, all built from wood probably collected many years ago from the vast wood that was set into the valley wall on the north side. The little cabins were covered with thick, white snow and long, thin icicles hung from the frozen guttering. There was much activity coming from the buildings. The traveller found a small track and followed it down the valley side towards Jelenskij. He found a wall surrounding the town which was previously not visible. He walked around until he found the town gates and as life always is he chose to go the long by accident...
It seemed that the town was preparing for something. People were running about with carts and small forklift trucks all carrying boxes or crates full of food and other supplies.
“Excuse me, my name is Sirov, I’m new in these parts and I couldn’t help wondering what everyone is doing?” asked our leather-clad man, to a friendly looking old man carrying some bags towards a big hole set in the valley side.
“They’re are coming...” he said.
“Who?” asked Sirov.
“Huge men, big, green, massive guns. Our scouts saw a small base they had made in the wastes west from here. We are taking our supplies into the old vault for protection. Then women and children will be temporarily sealed in and the men will stay out here and fight the attacks. We must defend our town...”
“Mutants? Phhhtt, yeah right, I hope you know that all that is just bullshit rumors. What’s your name by the way?”
“It’s Ivan, and they ain’t no rumors, not from what I’ve been hearing. I’m scared anyways. I don't care about rumors, if it is true we’re screwed.”
“I guess so. I’m going to have a look myself. I’ll tell you when I get back okay?”
“All right then, that’s if you get back.”
“Shut up, I’ll be back before you think.”
“See ya’ later then. I’ll tell Peter, the mayor about you.”
Sirov walked out and got a boat-ride across the river from a friendly but reluctant peasant. He took a small path marked out with small black stones up the other side of the valley. He walked out over the wastes towards where Ivan said the mutants were. He had to avoid a small pack of wolves. He fended of a family of bears and then he saw it. A small camp, two tents with a sputtering fire in the middle. Three hunched figures were sitting on logs around it chatting. They were certainly bigger than most but they could be enhanced by those clever doctors in Berinsk. Sirov crept around but couldn’t catch even a glimpse of their faces. So instead he listened to what they were saying. They had deep creaky voices and spoke as if they didn’t know much English.
“This place cold.” said one who had a flame thrower on his back a small tank of fuel strapped onto it.
“Yeah, and flying thing loud.” said another with a huge plasma rifle clasped in his lap.
“Shut up, you two, you both drive me crazy.” The third figure sounded more educated and spoke more like a normal person.
“Hey, you not the boss, it meeee.” said the first.
Then as Sirov watched the first figure pulled his hood off and revealed a green, rough skinned face, covered in dark green splits and scars. The lump of mutated crap pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it in the fire.
Sirov listened to their voices but he wasn’t concentrating on them. He was thinking.
‘So the rumors are true... this is bad... but where the hell is this small base... now that was a rumor... well anyway these three must be stopped... maybe if they don’t get back then their superiors will think that Jelenskij is too heavily defended and not come back... mmmmmm... well what have got to lose...’
Sirov stood up slowly and took aim at the fuel tank with his M-16. The bullets left his gun like a stream of water and hit the tank unlike a stream of water. There was an ear-splitting explosion and Sirov threw himself to the ground, so it seemed did the second and third mutants. The first was blown apart and giblets flew in all places as the explosion ripped through his huge green muscled body. The third mutant yelled,
“Who the hell was that? Show yourself and you won’t be harmed...” in a rusty voice.
“I think you forgot one thing, your standing behind a tent.” Sirov yelled back as he let a second stream of bullets from his M-16. They ripped through the tent canvas like a lion clawing at paper. The mutants scream echoed in Sirovs head as he imagined the green monster thud into the snow.
“You also forget one thing, I have plasma, you have small gun.” said the second apparently unharmed mutant. A small bolt of red plasma came through the tent leaving a small charred hole and disappeared into the snow with a hiss and a tiny plume of steam. Sirov dodged away and went round the other tent. He saw the stupid mutant furiously pumping away at his rifle at where he thought Sirov still was. As quietly as a mouse Sirov lifted his gun and click... click, click...
“Oh crap.” said Sirov loudly and then jumped behind a boulder as the mutant turned and shot. Sirov yelled in pain as a plasma bolt skimmed his ankle and burned some his skin away with it. Sirov could feel the plasma bolts hitting the rock and with each hit he winced. Hurriedly he took the empty magazine and threw at in the general direction of the mutant hoping to temporarily confuse the dumb creature. He searched his pockets and realized his ammo was in his pack which still near his original hiding place. He had to find another way before the rock gave to the repeated plasma hits. He could now the feel the shots were much closer to him. The rock was being eaten away at by the plasma bit by bit. Sirov got flat on his belly and felt the cold snow against his neck. He crawled towards his pack but the pain in his ankle was too intense. He crept round the other way and ended up behind the mutant who had by now stopped firing and was looking around. It seemed he was also out of ammo. ‘Well that makes two of us.” Sirov thought as he watched. Then with a surge of anger and strength he stood up and lunged towards the mutant who had drawn a pistol. Sirov dug his knife as hard as he could into the back of the mutant’s neck. The mutant groaned and turned fired two shots at Sirov then fell and hit the floor. Sirov saw as in slow motion the bullets flew in quick succession and hit his arm and fell straight through. Sirov looked at his wound. He could feel no pain at all. Then it hit him after almost five seconds. The searing pain flew up his arm and into his head. He screamed and fell to the floor.
A few minutes later two silhouetted figures rose from the bushes.
“Is he okay?” the first asked the other as they bent over Sirov’s limp body.
_____________________
well, now that you've read it (i hope), you now have the right to comment... WHAT DO YOU THINK???
_________________
"there are three types of people : those who can count and those who can't"
-*-
"Five out of Four people have trouble with fractions"
SIROV of the Icy Wastes
