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Preview of UPFTD Book 2: Pt 4
Title: UP FROM THE DEPTHS BOOK 2: The Journey Home Sneak Preview
Author: SLASH MARAUD
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: Purely a concept derived from my demented imagination and too many Romero films
Summary: This story is written for mature readers given the content, violence and language issues therein contained. This story does contain some harsh adult language not just for the sake of typing it but to get the reader into the perspective of how tense the situation is as well as add credibility to the character. Hardened soldiers, especially Special Forces or Naval Special Operators or soldiers in general sure don’t use words like ’golly’, ‘gosh darn it’ or ‘dag nabbit’. There are some depictions of graphic violence and gore. Again this was not done in any attempt to gross out the reader but merely as a plot device to show how deadly the infected humans had become or how severe the situation is from the character’s perspective. There is no sexual content, although it might be hinted at. This is only a sneak preview of Book 2.
FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE, THE FINAL ACTS OF UP FROM THE DEPTHS
“Six eight going in. Six eight going in.” He thought that the words seemed oddly detached and calm given the situation.
The big helo started a sickening sideways roll, the rotors no longer turning at enough speed to generate lift. Green trees and black rocks filled the view out the front windscreen and starboard side windows. The ground rushed up to meet them. Willis turned to look out his window; all he saw was blue sky. He remembered how earlier this afternoon he had thought that this was a great day to be flying. The Seahawk came in low over the hills, its body tilting right. The undercarriage clipped the hilltop, gouging into the soft soil until the landing gear struck a buried boulder, providing enough resistance to flip the large helicopter onto its right side, the rotors digging into the ground before ripping themselves apart.
These fast moving daggers of destruction threw themselves into the old growth trees, shearing, trimming, splitting and cutting the helpless limbs until the energy of momentum had dissipated. Willis heard the rotors striking the tree limbs, his world tilting and rolling, loose cargo flying around the compartment. The event was almost in slow motion. The main fuselage began a tumble, the rotors spinning off or breaking on contact with the ground. The tail boom separating from the fuselage and rolling not quite as fast as the larger passenger compartment. Fuel spilled out of the ruptured tanks; thankfully, the EMP burst had destroyed most of the electronic devices that might have created a spark.
A sudden rush of sound and wind as the side door in front of him was ripped off the tumbling fuselage. He was vaguely aware of a body being sucked out, then ground rushing up to obscure his view as the sickening death roll continued. The shrill shriek of tortured metal, the final death rattle for the dying aircraft filled his ears. Willis saw equipment being tossed out the now open space the door had occupied. Someone’s going to have to sign for that, he thought. A tremendous high-pitched squeal/roar of tortured metal at its breaking point echoed off the surrounding hills, then nothing.
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Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag and begin slitting throats... -H.L. Mencken
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Aug/9/2008, 10:50 pm
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