Posted by Kromey at 3:01pm Nov 5 '07I figure since I'm asking for y'all's help, it's only fair that I provide you with an excerpt of my novel-in-progress. Please, no editing suggestions at this point - the goal is 50,000 words in 30 days, and I'm already more than 4,000 words behind schedule.
Gunnar dashed around the corner and pressed his back against the cold stone. He took a quick moment to catch his breath, then he was running again.
Why was he running? He knew there was no escape from the buzzers. Why spend the last moments of his life in a desperate attempt to extend it a few terrified seconds longer? Wouldn't it be better to just let it all end now, quickly, and get it over with?
He stopped running, stood straight and turned around. He'd managed to extend his lead over the buzzers by darting through the narrow stone alleyways; they were now barely a whisper, but quickly growing louder. Any moment now they would burst from the alleyway he'd just emerged from himself and come hovering down the concrete drainage ditch he was standing in.
He clenched his fists, then relaxed them, readying himself for the end. One breath in, one breath out. One breath in...
The first one came flying out of the alley with such speed that it couldn't turn to follow him, and almost immediately disappeared into the opposite alley. Shortly behind it three more emerged; they were traveling a little slower and managed to turn enough that they ricocheted off the stone wall of the building instead of disappearing into the alley. A slow-moving straggler came out behind them, almost casually compared to its siblings' frantic dashing, and gently curved its path to come straight at Gunnar.
It buzzed past him, narrowly missing his shoulder. Its three frantic siblings were still bouncing off the wall and each other, trying vainly to move toward him. The first one, the one that had disappeared down the other alley, now drifted down slowly from a rooftop. This one was coming straight at him â≠this was it.
Gunnar stared it down, steeling himself for death.
The buzzer moved lazily toward him, almost seeming to slow down. Gunnar imagined he could even make out the individual teeth on the rapidly spinning [private] as it inched closer and closer to him.
Only when it came to a complete stop in front of him did he realize that he wasn't imagining it.
He looked around, suddenly aware of the dead silence around him. All five buzzers had stopped, hanging in midair, their [private]s perfectly still. Above him he noticed a crow that had been perched on the edge of a rooftop frozen in mid-takeoff.
Gunnar reached forward and touched the deadly [private] frozen just inches away from him. The moment he touched it, it sprang back to life, the [private] already at full speed, quickly slicing a deep gash into his finger.
He leaped backwards, pulling his hand away, and the buzzer immediately fell still again. He examined the wound on his finger â≠it was deep, he'd need to see a doctor.
"Just don't touch anything and you're safe here," said a deep voice behind him. He turned, startled, to see a figure wearing a dark brown cloak that lightly brushed the ground, an oversized hood pulled low, concealing the newcomer's face. The large sleeves meet where hands were presumably clasped, although they, too, were concealed beneath the thick fabric. "At the very least wait until we've dealt with these machines." There was obvious derision in the last word; the speaker had turned it almost into a sneer.
"We?" asked Gunnar. At that moment he suddenly noticed several similarly-cloaked figures standing around him. Each, except for the one that had spoken, approached one of the five buzzers. They lifted their hands, holding them out about shoulder width near their chests, and uttered a brief but rapid chant. Suddenly, a bright white sphere of light appeared between each figure's hands, seemingly suspended in midair by thin strands of white light.
Each figure then reached out toward its chosen buzzer, one hand on either side, the sphere staying between them; the moment it touched the buzzer, the sphere seemed to be sucked into it, the machine itself taking on the white glow of the sphere. The figures quickly stepped away and then vanished into thin air.
Startled, Gunnar turned back to the one who had spoken to him. Still standing there, the figure said simply, "We'll be watching out for you, Sword of Renasce, but we are not the Shield."
"Shield? Sword? What are you talking about?" But the figure had already vanished.
The five buzzers simultaneously exploded in a violent burst of white flame, and Gunnar ducked as debris flew past his head; the crow shrieked its surprise as it hauled itself higher into the air.
Never before had Gunnar felt so assaulted by the normal ambient noises of the city. He looked down at his finger, the deep gash and dripping blood proof that he hadn't imagined it.
He cursed softly and wandered off to find a doctor.
An excerpt - Kromey