January 2018 -- 75 word challenge -- VICTORY TO SPOOTS!

[Peter V]

RULES:

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title


ONE entry per person

NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please -- the stories must stand on their own



WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM


All stories Copyright 2018 by their respective authors,

who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here


The complete rules can be found at RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES

Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, January 23, 2018

Voting Ends at 11:59 pm GMT, January 28, 2018


You do not have to submit a story in order to vote --
in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner


The Magnificent Prize:-

The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers

and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre

Theme:

Road trip or journey

Genre:

Apocalyptic or Post-Apocalyptic (SF, fantasy or horror)


This thread to be used for entries only.
Please keep all comments to the DISCUSSION THREAD

We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted, as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot.

** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **​

 

[TitaniumTi]

How to write an apocalypse in 75 words

“Really?” I asked. “Only 75 words?”

“Them’s the rules.” The old man gestured at a windmill with rusting vanes. “We’ll send your message, but we’ve only got that old thing for power.”

But it wasn’t as if anybody else was waiting for their turn. Shrugging, I wrote. Mum’s gone, and Dad and I are on the road to Beyond. We’ve seen barely anyone.

The pencil quivered. I wouldn’t need 75 words. My fingers were fading.

 

[Ashleyne]

Outrun the Sun

Three million vehicles started. Our car's the only one remaining.

Fifty years we've driven around Arctic Ring Road, escaping the incinerating sun.

Our engine cuts out and I punch the steering wheel. "No more damn petrol."

"Dad, it's okay", says George.

He was newborn when we began. "I did my best to give you a real life."

"You succeeded. Thank you." The tears on his cheeks hiss into vapour, rising in tandem with the sun.

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

The Last Film in the Series

"Careful, Bob. You almost ran over that mutant."

"That's no mutant, Bing, that's a critic. I'm tired of pushing this cart. Why don't you take a turn?"

"I'm carrying the Geiger counter. There's a mirage!"

"I never saw a mirage in a sarong before. Need a lift, baby?"

"I'm heading for Ground Zero."

"Why? You're hot enough already. Woof! Woof!"

"Down, boy. Let's sing."

We're off on the road to Armageddon . . .

 

[SPoots]

The Four Horsemen

Four horsemen galloped across the sky and humanity died. Death watched kingdoms fall and laughed. This was what it had waited for, this was...

“I’m hungry,” moaned Famine.

“Stop moaning,” said War

“But I’m – Ow! War punched me.”

“Didn’t!”

Death turned. “Do you want me to turn this apocalypse around?”

There came a chorus of ‘No’s.

Death recollected its thoughts. This was It. This, at last...

“Are we there yet?” asked Pestilence. “I feel sick.”

 

[Danny McG]

Safe at last

June’s struggle ceased as the blade slashed across her throat and her lifeblood sprayed out.

As her consciousness faded she heard her 12 year-old daughter Sue screaming in betrayed horror amidst brutal male laughter.

Eight weeks of marching towards the radio broadcast of sanctuary, avoiding zombie hordes all the way.

The last thing she ever heard...

“Easy boys, keep the young one alive, we can have fun with her until we've eaten the mother”

 

[Cathbad]

The Meal Ticket


“Whassat, Cal?”

“A meal ticket, Dave!”

The lass was not ten years, wearing a long-sleeved dress.

“Hello!” she cooed.

“Where’s yer momma?” Cal asked.

“Buried with daddy.”

Cal nodded. “Been a lot of dying.”

“Pract’ly everyone!”

“Come. We got a warmth and food!’

“I got meat at home.”

“Real meat?”

She nodded.

“Show us,” Cal commanded, salivating.

She led the way, whispering, “I’ll have meat, now!” She drew the blade from her sleeve.

 

[Joe Loomis]

To the Market

Marcus slammed the door to the old beat up pickup truck that they modified. Leaving the compound was always dangerous, but they were desperate for supplies.

As he looked to his right, he saw his daughter loading up a pump action shotgun. In the rearview mirror, he saw his son attaching a rifle to the mount attached to the bed.

They both nodded, and as he started the truck he sighed “Let’s go shopping!”

 

[Garfunkel]

The Supermarket

Beatrice and Simon were almost out of matches when they reached the supermarket. They had glimpsed lights in the distance and had hurried across the wasteland.

Inside there was a small group of people, the first the siblings had seen in months.

Outside the shadows caressed the glass, but they could come no further.

The pair took it in turns to sleep.

Suddenly, Beatrice nudged Simon awake.

“I think the lights just flickered.”

 

[Pedro Del Mar]

My button is bigger than yours

Since the attack from North Korea my family had been underground in the fallout shelter for almost two weeks.

The batteries had run out for the torches days ago. We had some water and dried meat but nothing fresh.

Time passed so slowly in the blackness. Minutes dragged, felt like days. Forty eight hours to go until our journey through the fallout period was over and we'd be safe to leave.

What horror awaited us?

 

[Cat's Cradle]

Call and Response

Something’s untrue with the birdsong erupting throughout the forest.

It ends on rising, stirring notes, not the flattened tones of radiation-poisoned thrushes.

“Respectable performance, children, but deaden your warning trills. Marauders will uncover you. Stay ahead of our procession, devoted to alerting us.” Emaciated figures unhide, then our ruined, dying offspring scatter into deeper woods.

And when their thrush calls sound, we desperate wanderers will flee, abandoning stragglers.

While they last, children are our future.

 

[mosaix]

Nothing New Under The Sun...

A sudden, hot, roaring wind from the south. They both turn. A bright glow on the horizon. Something seriously wrong, seriously bad. Instinctively they start to run, heading north with hundreds of others. Debris falling from the sky.

Days of endless walking. Burning, suffocating skies. Bad, rotting food. Little water. They stop.

Exhausted and half starved they die within hours of each other, hands not far apart.

-----

“Probably T. Rex. Maybe two. Let’s dig.”

 

[Hugh]

StupidityStupidityStupidity​

He headed out, driving, just driving, the landscape barely recognisable, ruined buildings, broken vehicles, the great wind gusting behind.

Nightmares stroboscoped his brain. So much screaming. Those Faces. The desperation. The Guilt. The stupidity. The incredible, incredible, stupidity.

Dean was dead by Pittsburgh.

Louise by Cincinatti.

At Louisville he ran into the Pyongyang Peoples’ Militia. They dressed his wounds and administered pain-relief. They were kind, very kind, but they couldn’t stop the screaming.

 

[D.A. Xiaolin Spires]

From Sand to Glass and Glass to Sand​

The trunk lid bobbed, as Yiting zoomed past desert landscapes. They were once glass. Great skyscrapers, now ground to white sand.

She heard roaring engines, sped left. One cut her off. In her hands was civilization’s heart. All left to do was implant it into the grid and the city would pop back to life.

It rolled away as bandits leapt into her car. Pumping red flesh tumbling in crumbled glass. Yiting reached—and missed.

 

[jackwin]

World War 3: Dogs, Cats Victorious!

Supreme Dog Leader: We won, it was surprisingly easy. They never saw it coming.

Supreme Cat Leader: Yes, by the time they knew we could communicate telepathicly it was over, we had em.

SDL: I wonder how we got that power.

SCL: Does it matter?

SDL: Guess not. How many do we keep alive?

SCL: None.

SDL: But many were nice.

SCL: Yes, but they all called us "Dumb Animals"!

SDL: Yeah, We're trippin now!

 

[reiver33]

Hellawes Awaits

The Range Rover could still manage seventy on the decaying tarmac, even while towing my supply trailer. It was birdsong I missed most, more so than another human voice, so I drowned out the silence with music during my rest stops.

I reached to eject the current cd, but hit ‘Radio’ instead. It began skipping between dead stations, emitting brief bursts of static.

Then a woman’s voice; “Chapel perilous” – and was gone.

The road beckons.

 

[chrispenycate]

Road out

When human driven vehicles were banned
From roads exceeding agricultural lanes
Accidents diminished, sleight of hand
Beware the flare as Father Sun complains
An EMP humanity could never nuclearly match
Destroys all navigation and collision warning with dispatch

Freeway trekking, twisted wrecking,
Flare day remanents impededing
Autopiloted, the buses
Speeding trucks, pantechnicons, discusses
Ev'ry vehicle self guided
Even if the law's decided
None may venture without driver,
Seated behind steering wheel.
Traffic patterned 'immobile'.

​

 

[David Evil Overlord]

I Miss The Brains Down In Africa

Los Angeles held no more food.

Bob’s car started on the third try. They drove, looking for civilisation.

They pressed buttons till their fingers bled, till they could sing along with the wrong lyrics to Toto’s Africa.

In Washington, they found the President sleeping under empty McDonald’s wrappers.

“Faaaaaast fooooood?”

“Noooo,” said Bob. “Sloooow fooooood.”

“Slow? My brain’s huuuuge,” said the President, in the face of all the evidence. And all the zombies.

 

[johnnyjet]

Sisyphus

It went out again, following weak GPS signals, avoiding debris, crevasses, blocked streets.

It lost time evading rubble from a newly collapsed building. Dutifully following the traffic rules, it adjusted its eta.

When it arrived, it awaited its passenger. After several reminder messages received no response, it returned to its home base solar charging station.

It had been a long time since its regular rider showed up, but it remained faithful to its commitment.

 

[Luiglin]

How far?

I'm sometimes amazed at how far I've come.

Before? I'd been one of those souls who'd go out of their way to help - even though being a 'gentleman' had become somewhat old fashioned.

Now? I shoot. The boy, no older than my dead son, falls - head pulped like an over ripe tomato. His food now my food.

I'm often horrified at how far I've sunk.