The Chicago Bomb, Complete Part Three

[Kodemunkey]

This is the complete third part of my story, feel free to disect.

Wednesday 17th October 2007


05.30


Daredevil’s bedroom.


My alarm went off early this morning....again! It’s been doing this for the past three weeks. I’ll have to reprogram it sometime soon, but for now I’ll just take the batteries out.


I guess I could use the time “Productively” and hack into something...probably best not to, I don’t want to get caught...again.


I know what I’ll do; I’ll go visit that intern guy down at the church later. That might kill a couple of hours.


10.45: St Joseph’s church



Jason Mitchell’s office.


It’s been a couple of days since the accident, my back is still sore, but as long as I don’t overdo things I’ll recover.


I sat down carefully at my desk, trying not to aggravate my sore back. I tried sorting out the sermon for next Sunday, but my mind kept going back to the hatch in the store room.
The sermon could wait; I had to clear my head, so I headed towards the main hall.


A small gust of wind blew into the hall though a crack in one of the stained glass windows, ruffling a few pages of a book which sat on the back of a pew.

I picked up the book, and idly leafed through it, if only for appearances’ sake.


I heard someone come in through the front door, and make their way into the hall; I looked up from the book, which was actually quite interesting.


I saw a careworn woman in her early forties sit down in the back row; I went over to her to see if there was anything i could do for her.


She smiled weakly as i sat in the pew next to her. I was about to speak to her, when i noticed some movement in her purse.



Before i could say anything, a metallic leg popped out of the purse, closely followed by the metallic body of a tarantula, which then crawled out of the purse, along the back of the pew and onto her shoulder.


“Don’t worry” she told me noting my expression as i watched the spider.
As it turns out, her son built the spider to keep her safe. She started to describe her son, and how she worries about him.



Daredevil


St Joseph’s church hall 11.00


I arrived at the church, looking for the Intern guy to see how he was getting on, and found him and mum talking in the back row of the church, mostly about me.



I smiled as cheerfully as I could while listening to mum unload on the poor guy about how tough life was with dad gone and me getting into “trouble”.


I left mum in church and went outside for a walk. Opening the door, i noticed some heavy storm clouds on the horizon.



Sometime later, an electrical buzzing caught my attention, as I looked around for the source; i felt the hair on my arms and head stand up. Something shouted in my head to run as fast as I could.

The buzzing came from all around me from the parked cars, the streetlights and benches. As I ran back to the church the buzzing became louder and more intense, flinging open the doors to the main hall. I shouted for everyone to get on the floor and cover their heads.


I heard the panic in people’s voices as they tried to figure out what was going on, I shouted as best i could over the arcing coming from every metal surface that it was just a small thunderstorm and would be over soon. I do hope I’m right.


I yelled over the din of crackling static for Jason to pull three of the pews together to make a shelter for everyone in the room, we then got to work scavenging copper sheeting from a store room so we could build a makeshift Faraday cage


We finished the cage twenty minutes later and joined the others inside, which I was thankful for as the static shocks had become unbearable. I handed out some welding masks and ear protection for the group, there was about six of us, including myself, mum and Jason.


Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl, then as suddenly as it had started, the arcing stopped. The other three people in the group had decided enough was enough, and so they removed their earplugs and welding masks as they left our little shelter.


I felt the hair on my arm shoot up on the back of my neck, whatever this was, it wasn’t over yet. Instinctively I reached out for mum to reassure her that everything would be fine. Even through the dark glass of the welding masks we wore, I could tell she was scared.


Jason seemed to be holding up pretty well, we exchanged a few remarks using sign language for a while, but quickly ran out of things to say.
Hours passed, flashes of lightning reflected on the little roof of our shelter, punctuating the near silence.




I checked on Jason, he’d been quiet for some time, he was fast asleep, clutching a small bible, open on psalm 23.



My body was telling me to get some sleep, and I was about to give in, when I felt the air being stolen from my lungs, accompanied by a menacing rumble which seemed to fill every single atom in existence.


This couldn’t be good.

 

[chrispenycate]

This is the complete third part of my story, feel free to disect.

Wednesday 17th October 2007


05.30


Daredevil’s bedroom.


My alarm went off early this morning....again! It’s been doing this for the past three weeks. I’ll have to reprogram it sometime soon, but for now I’ll just take the batteries out.


I guess I could use the time “Productively” and hack into something...probably best not to, I don’t want to get caught...again.


I know what I’ll do; I’ll go visit that intern guy down at the church later. That might kill a couple of hours.


10.45: St Joseph’s church



Jason Mitchell’s office.


It’s been a couple of days since the accident,

either semicolon or "and"

my back is still sore, but as long as I don’t overdo things I’ll recover.


I sat down carefully at my desk, trying not to aggravate my sore back. I tried sorting out the sermon for next Sunday, but my mind kept going back to the hatch in the store room.
The sermon could wait; I had to clear my head, so I headed towards the main hall.


A small gust of wind blew into the hall though a crack in one of the stained glass windows, ruffling a few pages of a book which sat on the back of a pew.

I picked up the book, and idly leafed through it, if only for appearances’ sake.


I heard someone come in through the front door, and make their way into the hall; I looked up from the book, which was actually quite interesting.


I saw a careworn woman in her early forties sit down in the back row; I went over to her to see if there was anything i could do for her.


She smiled weakly as i sat in the pew next to her. I was about to speak to her, when i noticed some movement in her purse.



Before I could say anything, a metallic leg popped out of the purse, closely followed by the metallic body of a tarantula, which then crawled out of the purse, along the back of the pew and onto her shoulder.

repetition of "out of the purse"

“Don’t worry” she told me

comma

noting my expression as I watched the spider.
As it turns out, her son

had

built the spider to keep her safe. She started to describe her son, and how she worries about him.



Daredevil


St Joseph’s church hall 11.00


I arrived at the church, looking for the Intern guy to see how he was getting on, and found him and mum talking in the back row of the church, mostly about me.



I smiled as cheerfully as I could while listening to mum unload on the poor guy about how tough life was with dad gone and me getting into “trouble”.


I left mum in church and went outside for a walk. Opening the door, I noticed some heavy storm clouds on the horizon.



Sometime later, an electrical buzzing caught my attention,

Full stop

as I looked around for the source;

no semicolon

I felt the hair on my arms and head stand up. Something shouted in my head to run as fast as I could.

The buzzing came from all around me

colon

from the parked cars, the streetlights and benches. As I ran back to the church the buzzing became louder and more intense,

full stop, I think. It's not the buzzing that flings open the door, is it?

flinging open the doors to the main hall.

no full stop

I shouted for everyone to get on the floor and cover their heads.

everyone? when he had walked out earlier the church had been deserted apart from his mother and the (presumably) priest

I heard the panic in people’s voices as they tried to figure out what was going on, I shouted

comma

as best I could over the arcing coming from every metal surface

comma

that it was just a small thunderstorm and would be over soon. I do hope I’m right.


I yelled over the din of crackling static for Jason to pull three of the pews together to make a shelter for everyone in the room, we then got to work scavenging copper sheeting from a store room so we could build a makeshift Faraday cage


We finished the cage twenty minutes later and joined the others inside, which I was thankful for as the static shocks had become unbearable. I handed out some welding masks and ear protection for the group, there was

were; and your average human doesn't think "about six", number as small as that, especially when you know half of them is six or it isn't. It's only when you get about ten or thereabouts that it is either count, or about.

about six of us, including myself, mum and Jason.


Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl,

semicolon

then

comma

as suddenly as it had started, the arcing stopped. The other three people in the group had decided enough was enough, and so they removed their earplugs and welding masks as they left our little shelter.


I felt the hair on my arm shoot up on the back of my neck

I don't get a clear picture from this (well. I do. but it involves mobile follicles and is a bit humorous, which you don't want at this point. Full stop rather than next comma

, whatever this was, it wasn’t over yet. Instinctively I reached out for mum to reassure her that everything would be fine. Even through the dark glass of the welding masks we wore,

no comma

I could tell she was scared.


Jason seemed to be holding up pretty well,

semicolon

we exchanged a few remarks using sign language for a while, but quickly ran out of things to say.
Hours passed, flashes of lightning reflected on the little roof of our shelter, punctuating the near silence.




I checked on Jason, he’d been quiet for some time, he was fast asleep, clutching a small bible, open on psalm 23.

I checked on Jason; he’d been quiet for some time. He was fast asleep, clutching a small bible, open to psalm 23.

My body was telling me to get some sleep, and I was about to give in, when I felt the air being stolen from my lungs, accompanied by a menacing rumble which seemed to fill every single atom in existence.


This couldn’t be good.

You need a standard format for your POV headings; I would suggest your final one, where you specify first the character, then his spacio-temporal location

There are rather a lot of semicolons(and I've added some, which says you're using rather a standardised sentence structure; not in itself bad, but worth noting.

And did you look up church architecture? "Church hall" still sounds to me like an attached building, not the main church. Daredevil migh use the term, but I doubt whether Jason Mitchell would. "Nave" is the word that springs to mind for the bit where the pews and things are.

 

[Kodemunkey]

All in due time mate, church architecture is on the list of things that i'm researching for the story, It's quite a long one.

Also, please bear in mind this is only a first draft of which i hope will be a long story.