Sci Fi
The Scavenger's Way
After years of methodically combing the country, even the most distinct of landscapes had become interchangeable. Simon had stopped noticing variations, the ups and downs of the roads, changes to the horizon, to the shades of earth beneath his feet, grassy plain or rocky terrain. Everything was too similarly ravaged to be distinguishable, and so he kept his head down, only discerning changes around him when it was necessary to find his way. These trips were not a joyride or scenic tour anyway. It was strictly business. Not that he preferred to be anywhere else. He was ill-suited for any sort of city life, and stuck out like a sore thumb walking among the button-down, well-groomed urbanites. They would stare at him in his patchwork jumper, scoff at the frayed scraps of fabric that he’d used to repair it, and turn up their noses at the bits and pieces of wasteland artifacts tied to his belt. City folks, safe in their walled-off, temperature controlled, artificial habitats didn’t understand the need for functional clothing. They wouldn't appreciate the amount of design that went into the suit either, the amount of effort it took to find the right kind of zippers, and durable, waterproof materials that could be both breathable and warm.
By Jonathan Scott Church5 years ago in Fiction
Cultivating Hope
The human race had been operating on borrowed time. We’d torn apart our world and continued doing so when every scientist agreed it would be the end of us. The safe havens we created when water became more precious than air, when the earth was scorched by the sun and then man-made horrors, were only meant to weather the storm for a while.
By Kira Lempereur5 years ago in Fiction
Gaspin'
Not even the gravel sounded the same anymore. The familiar and comforting crunch replaced with the warning of approaching danger. Its tiny sonic resonations feeling like they carried on for miles, warning all of your presence in a twenty-mile radius, your heart trampolining several times into the back wall of your throat. You never walked straight anymore, always crouching close to the earth less man than beast, lest you wish to be caught in the sight of unwelcome presences. And the rasping.
By Cameron Cairns5 years ago in Fiction
Fixing the Tipping Point
Today is an exciting day for Bellamy. It will be his first time in The Connection. He runs into what seems to be a lab with white walls, white floors, and everything around him white. In the middle are two connection chairs quite big with a connection device hovering above them. "I am ready Professor Wood", said Bellamy. Oh is that so, well let's see. Why is the connection so important? It can help us fix our mistakes in the past and that way we can have a better future said, Bellamy. Very good! Bellamy, now how is the connection possible? A long time ago, men and women, even children got a neural link installed at the tip of the spine and this projected a screen in front of their eyes allowing them to see a perfect virtual world and not the one that's falling apart around them. There are pollution and radio waves in the air from the overpopulation of wireless towers. Something just flipped and there was a worldwide blackout. The scientists that invented the chip did not account for a blackout. All the chips were running off of the wireless power and people were told it would last forever. But, then it went out. It froze everyone in place. Their neural network compromised unable to eat unable to drink not that they needed it. They were far more advanced than eating a meal every day. Even though, all the people stopped decaying the Earth did not. It was almost past the point of no return when the blackout happened. With no one there to fix it the earth was doomed. That is why we must stay inside the shelter because being outside, there is nothing but a desert wasteland where the sun can scorch you in a minute. If the sun doesn't get to you the natural disasters will. From the tornadoes to the lightning storms, typhoons, tsunamis everything in the elements is trying to kill you. We were given hope for a better future with the connection. It would allow us to send our minds into the past and connect with the neural link of a person. As long as we're connected we can power it. Our main mission is to wake everyone back up and hopefully help them learn from their mistakes. Well said, Bellamy. “I guess you are ready”, said Professor Wood. Okay, jump up here says Professor Wood as he pats on the connection chair. It was a big white chair that laid back and at the head is a big machine with wires coming out the connection. Looking up he is nervous but excited. Everything will be all right Professor Wood assures Bellamy then he pulls down the interface and straps in Bellamy. Comfortable asks Professor Wood. Bellamy puts up one thumb then Professor Wood pulls the switch. His mind gets launched through space and time. With lights all around him, he doesn't feel whole. He feels like a million particles going at the speed of light. Bellamy gasps as he starts to pat himself down. He doesn't feel like he's in his own body. He lifts his hands and realizes those are not his hands. He’s made the connection with someone else in the past. Woohoo, Bellamy says as he jumps up in the air. Ha-ha, you did it said a voice outside of the room. “Who is that? Who's out there”, asked Bellamy? Professor Wood walked into the room not looking like him. It’s me Bellamy, Professor Wood don't worry I know I don't look like myself. This is Wendy she has four doctorates in microbiology, organic, robotic, and micro-robotics. Look at his right arm and tapping his wrist. Wow! This is Carlos he has four doctorates in computer science, biology, psychology, and zoology. Wendy, why did you pick these bodies for us said, Carlos? While the rest of the world was blind to the problem Wendy and Carlos both were trying to fix it. Wendy will be trying to fix it on the micro side and Carlos on a little bit bigger scale looking for ways to help with his hands. Ok, what's the mission today said, Carlos. The big picture is to wake everyone up, figure out what caused the blackout, and how we can turn everyone back on. After the blackout, no one was awake to feed their animals so once docile pets are now packs of hungry wild animals but that's mostly in a city. On the outskirts of the city, you have to worry about actual wild hungry animals not to mention the lightning storms. These are things you must watch out for. The blackout might have shut off the power but all that energy had to go somewhere. Other than that I think we're good to go. Professor Wood, I mean Wendy “why don't we just take the chips out of people's necks, asked Carlos ”? That's a good question, Carlos. Unless it's powered on removing it will certainly cause death but there are a unlucky few that won’t die. They will turn into something that isn't human. They will turn into an animal only wanting food but they are never full. I call them “The Awaken” they're only a few out there so we shouldn't have to worry about seeing them. If you happen to see them, disconnect immediately. You do not want to know what it feels like to be eaten alive. They travel in packs so if there's one they'll be more. Okay, we need to make our way to the checkpoint that has been set up. It’s halfway between where we are now and the power plant; it's Wendy's house. Let’s get going. As they race downstairs to the front door leading outside Carlos pauses. He has lived his life underground and has never been outside. He concentrates on his steps and takes a deep breath. As he takes his first step outside, he is looking up at the world with a smile on his face.
By Frankie Armijo Jr5 years ago in Fiction
Trial #109
The forge was a steady presence at her side. Long off the clock, the cradle of flames burned only for light. For company. It breathed heat into the tiny space, encouraged the wall of bright yellow slips to curl. It cast the head bent over a single work desk in an adoring orange glow.
By Samantha Penny5 years ago in Fiction
"Room 300"
The afternoon sun beat hard through the dusty, cracked windshield of the Hapcellion z280 hypercar; the holographic dashboard read August 8th, 2086, 15:52. The only comfort from the heat was the cool metal of the hand-me-down revolver resting in the small of his back, hidden under the baggy shirt, and the heart-shaped locket that sat on his collar bone, the thin silver chain clasped to the back of his sunburnt neck. He sat in the driver’s seat, nervously fiddling with the locket clasp. Each time the locket creaked open, a red light projected out the words: HAL ARMIS DOB:12/20/2047 BLOOD TYPE: A +. The unlit cigarette sitting between his cracked lips. Hundreds of years of medical research can’t beat mega-corporation marketing; he thought to himself as he lit the tobacco. He finally pushed the creaky door open and stepped into the dilapidated Brooklyn street.
By Hunter Madison5 years ago in Fiction
