The Coward

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The Coward

Post by Chef on Thu Jan 21, 2010 9:29 pm

((This is my first fan-fiction, so I would like some critique as to how I am doing! Have fun reading!))

The Coward


Chapter One: Life as a coward ain't easy...

Darkness crept over the horizon as the sun sank down. Trees were swaying in the cold and harsh wind that howled across the landscape. Snow blanketed the ground and ice froze on the bare tree branches. It was winter in . The harsh cold had finally set in and corrupted the once warm landscape. The sky was pitch black and not even the dull moon could be seen at the moment. It was a truly depressing scene.

In a part of the woods a fire could be heard. The low crackle and snaps seemed like a very delightful sound at the moment, considering the situation. The fire was very small and a strange and lanky man sat next to it, trying to keep warm. He wore a ripped, grey, coat, had grey pants, and wore a wool cap over his head. On the side of his arm was a symbol that represented the rank of "Private" in the army.

The man was shaking from the bite of the cold. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He brought the cigarette to his mouth and tried to flick the lighter to light it a few times unsuccessfully. He finally got the flame to ignite and brought it to the cigarette, shaking as he tried to light the stick. The man lit the roll after a few seconds and put the lighter back in his pocket, puffing smoke as he did. The man's shaking lessened and he grew calmer in a few minutes. Having a smoke was very nice in the cold.

The man spent the next thirty minutes staring into the fire and using up his cigarette. When he was finished he threw the stub into the snow and laid down on his blanket he had spread out by the fire. He pulled his other blanket over his body and closed his eyes, trying to sleep, though it was almost impossible for him to clear his mind of all that had happened recently. He couldn't believe how much trouble he had gotten himself in this time. In fact, he did not fully understand why he was being chased by the Royal Army. It was a very long story. The man was finally calming down and starting to doze off. Slowly.... Surely...

"Mr. Ryan! We know you are here!" a voice yelled over a microphone. "Give up now and we promise not to torture you as much."

Ryan's eyes opened immediately. They had found him. Ryan sprang up and put his hand at his side, feeling his holstered pistol just for assurance that he wasn't utterly defenseless. He quickly kicked snow over the fire and grabbed his blankets, rolling them up and stuffing them in his pack. He had to hurry. If those men caught him he did not know what horrible things they would do to him. He threw the pack on his back and started to sprint away from where the voice was coming from. His breaths were very erratic as he ran because of the adrenaline and fear coursing through his body.

"Mr. Ryan!" the voice, louder than before. "You are a spineless coward! Give up now and your life will not be completely forfeit! Don't force us to kill you!"

Ryan looked behind him to see lights in the distance, probably from the flashlights of the men chasing him. He gasped and ran faster than ever, tree branches whipping his face and cutting him.

"Alright, Mr. Ryan," the voice said in a dark tone. "You asked for it. Give him hell, boys!"

Suddenly sharp barking was heard in the distance. Hounds. Ryan gasped in fear again and looked back to see the silhouettes of dogs running towards him. His eyes widened in fear. He looked forward again to see a drop-off up ahead. But it was too late. His foot snagged on a root and he tripped, falling forward down the cliff. He rolled violently down the rocky landslide, smacking his head on rocks and bruising his body. His body tumbled down to the end of the cliff and he fell into the deep river that was passing by, coming out of the frying pan and into the fire, or the freezing river in his case. He sputtered as he floated to the surface and looked up the cliff to see several dogs and none a few soldiers looking down at him. He was safe. For now.
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Re: The Coward

Post by King Calamity on Thu Jan 21, 2010 9:39 pm

what is this? It seems cool, but what is it?
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Thu Jan 21, 2010 9:42 pm

It is just a random idea I thought up of. More details on it will be released later on in the story. Also, this takes place in a not too distant future.
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Re: The Coward

Post by -Lexci- on Thu Jan 21, 2010 11:18 pm

I'm officially interested. =D More plz!
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Thu Jan 21, 2010 11:47 pm

Woohoo! Next chapter! This one is a bit longer, so bear with me...

Chapter Two: Uncomfortably Numb.

A delicious smell went through the air. Apple pie. James went down the stairs of the old cottage and looked on the dining room table to see the delicious desert waiting for him to dig in.

"You know that isn't just for you, right?" came a voice from the kitchen.

James grinned. "Don't worry, Ma, I won't eat too much," he replied. His mother, a stocky woman with graying hair came out with a plate that had a whole chicken on it. Lunchtime was coming soon. That pie would have to wait until later. James took a seat on a chair of the table and waited for his parents to get assembled.

"It smells great, Ma," remarked James, happy to receive such a meal. Even though he had been in this household his whole life, Ma's cooking never got old.

"Whatever, James," Ma said with a bright smile. "Givin' me compliments won't get you more food."

James smiled and was about to reply when sudden footsteps were heard coming down the oak stairs. They both stopped their conversation. It was Pa. Pa came down the stairs. He was grim as always, with his white hair and scarred face. He always looked like he was glaring. He stopped and looked out at the two at the table and then resumed making his way to his seat. Ma pulled out the chair for Pa and he took a seat and pulled up to the table.

"Let's say grace before we begin," Pa said gravelly, folding his hands together. "We need to thank the Lord for his bread before we dine. James, would you kindly?"

"Yes, sir," James replied closing his eyes and beginning to pray. James, throughout all his years could never figure out why Pa prayed before each meal. Pa seemed like a mean old man that would never do such a thing to waste his time. James had never seen his Pa even look at the Bible. Maybe he did it to make himself feel better. James would never know. James finished the prayer with an "amen" and the family started to eat their food. The silence was almost deafening. Silverware scrapped against the glass as they ate and not a word was said. Ma and James had learned the hard way that it was impolite to talk at the table. Pa hated it.

After about an hour of eating, Pa leaned back in his seat and folded his hands across the table.

"There's recruiting going on at town," Pa said suddenly, breaking the sudden silence like thin glass. "They've got sergeants from the Royal Forces and everything."

James took a sip of his drink nervously. He didn't like where this was going.

"That's good," his Ma replied after a few seconds. "They need all the boys they can get. Those Rebels won't fall by themselves."

Pa nodded slowly and looked over at James expectingly. What the hell does he want from me now? James thought to himself.

"Yes, a lot of boys are putting their lives on the line for this country," Pa said, looking at James the whole time. "They go to prove themselves. Prove that they can be worth something for once in their life. They will go face to face with their enemies in battle and die for their comrades. Not many are willing to take that risk."

James cleared his throat nervously and took yet another sip from his drink. Pa looked down at his hands and back up at James with a sharp look in his eyes.

"James," Pa said with an edge to his voice. "You know of this recruitment that's going on. Why haven't you signed up yet?"

James looked over at Pa, biting his lip. The old codger wants me to fight, he thought to himself.

"I...don't want to fight, Pa," James replied timidly. "You know I have problems with fighting. It isn't right."

His father shook his head disappointedly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Howard," Ma intervened with a meaningful look on her face.

"Shut the hell up," Pa replied. "Now, James. What's the problem with joining up with the Royal Army? Are you afraid of doing something meaningful in your life for once?"

James sat still in his seat. His father was getting angry. Not good.

"I'm just not comfortable with that sort of thing," he replied meekly.

"Not comfortable?" Pa retorted. "Don't you mean you're afraid?"

James didn't answer.

"When I was a boy it didn't matter whether you wanted to or not, they'd just take you anyway and turn you into a man," Pa said. "They did it because they wanted their boys to become men. Real men. Not pretenders that waste their lives poring over history books."

James had enough of this. He couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his chair and started to run upstairs.

"You coward!" Pa yelled as James slammed the door behind him. "You are a coward, James Ryan!"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan floated down the half frozen river, freezing. He had to get out or else he would probably die. Ryan swam as hard as he could, splashing all over the place, until he finally made it to the icy shore. He struggled to climb onto the bank and plopped onto the snow. His face was almost blue from the cold and he was shivering more violently than ever before. His whole body was numb and his movements felt stiff. He lifted himself up from the ground and started to walk blindly in a random direction. He needed warmth now.

Ryan walked like a zombie through the snow. The trees around him were now thinning out. He wasn't in the woods any more. This was open land. It looked like a farming settlement almost. Maybe there would be people here to help. Ryan stumbled around until he found a pathway that led through one of the fields. There was nothing else to do but follow it, so Ryan started to walk slowly down the icy path.

He had never felt such intense numbness in his entire life. His body felt like it was shutting down and freezing. He almost wished he was captured right now. At least his prison would be warm and have a little bit of food to comfort him. Ryan shook the thought away and kept walking. I must not give up hope, he kept saying to himself. Luckily for Ryan, those men were long gone and wouldn't be able to track him for a while. Now Ryan's only enemy was the cold. He couldn't tell which one was more lethal.

Ryan finally came across a wooden gate the was attached to a short stone wall that surrounded the crops he was walking through. He grabbed the gate and pulled with all his might. The gate was frozen at the hinges and didn't want to give way, but eventually Ryan forced it open and walked through successfully. There had to be some sign of life somewhere. If not, Ryan was doomed. He looked around in all directions, seeing nothing but blackness from the sky. It was so dark he could hardly see outside.

Worry suddenly welled up in Ryan's brain. Was this is? he thought to himself. Is this how I'm gonna go? This isn't fair. It isn't fair! Ryan started to run forward with all his energy that remained. The silhoutte of a house came in view. The energy was draining out of Ryan fast. Hope suddenly came into his mind, but his body could not take any more. He collapsed in mid-run, right in front of his destination. He was doomed to....slowly....die....


Last edited by Chef on Tue Mar 30, 2010 6:01 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: The Coward

Post by -Lexci- on Fri Jan 22, 2010 12:51 am

-jaw drops- WHoa. intense. 0.0 I'm really liking this man. MOre? =D
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Fri Jan 22, 2010 1:12 am

I will be getting more soon. Thanks for the input!
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Re: The Coward

Post by -Lexci- on Fri Jan 22, 2010 1:25 am

Totally. lol it's an interesting story so far. =D
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Sun Jan 24, 2010 8:53 pm

Here's the next chapter! Also, scratch what I said earlier about this being in the future. It's in an alternate reality...


Chapter Three: Out of the fire

The town came into view. It was a very small settlement with only about a thousand residents abiding in the area, but most of the business came from the markets in town. Everyone in the county came here for auctions, cheap goods, and souvenirs from foreign places. Now that the Royal military had made camp here for a while, the markets were closed and the only people that walked the streets were young boys waiting in line to sign up for possible death.

James rode in his parents small jeep. It was a rusty piece of work, but it got the job done and was fast, though James did not want to upset any federal officers by speeding. The roads were very bumpy as he drove past the welcome sign that was missing a few words because it had been up so long. He drove through the streets, turning his head to see the boys and the closed shops on the side. He found a suitable parking spot after a while and came to a stop between the lines of his desired space.

James pushed the door open after turning the engine of the car off and took his first step onto the land of opportunity. Today would be the day. He had finally made up his mind to join this damn army that his father kept bugging him about. It was either this or listen to Pa tear the house down with his complaints for the rest of his years at the home. James himself preferred death over that. The enlistment tables were set up in the town square where the markets were usually held so James knew where he was going. He walked by kids his age, nodding his head at a few that acknowledged his unimportant presence. Soon enough, he'd be fighting alongside these people so it wouldn't hurt to be friendly.

After a few minutes walk, James found the end of the line and waited for almost an hour to get his registration papers. After the sleazy sergeant handed his pen and paper, James took a seat near the table and filled out all the information as well as he could. He put the pen on the table when he was finished, and handed the papers to the man who issued them to him. The sergeant took the cigar out of his mouth and leaned back in his chair as he read it.

"James Andrew Ryan," the man said as if he was announcing something, setting the paper on the table. "So you want to join the Royal army, eh kid?"

"Uh, yes...sir!" James said, stumbling over his words. "I am doing this on behalf of my father, sir."

"Yeah, I know your father," the sergeant replied. "I knew you was his kid when I looked at ya. You are a bit on the small side, but you both share that same face."

James nodded in understanding. He wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but decided not to question the man's words. He didn't want to get on a commanding officer's nerves.

"Have you ever shot a man, kid?" the sergeant asked, as if it was a perfectly normal question. "You ever kill a man in cold blood?"

"Uh....no, sir. Never, sir."

The sergeant nodded.

"Good," he responded. "I was just making sure you weren't one of those damn psychos."

He took out a stamp and gave the paper a smack with it. He picked it up and put it on top of the ever growing stack next to him.

"Well," the sergeant said. "You're accepted. I am sergeant Rogers. Welcome to the Royal Forces, son."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was blurry once he had opened his eyes. Ryan woke up a little while ago, oblivious to where he was and what time it was. All he could see were distorted surroundings. The blurriness was wearing off, but it was taking it's sweet time in the process.

Where am I? he thought to himself. I thought I was dead. Someone came for me. But who? Who would help a person with the Royal Army insignia on his back? After a few minutes the blurriness in his eyes started to clear up and he looked around to survey his surroundings.

He was laying in a small bed inside a nicely made log cabin. There were a few bear rugs on the floor and various animal heads and skins on the wall. Whoever this was had to be a proficient hunter. There was a nice fireplace on one of the walls in the room that was lit and flickering.

Ryan pulled his hands out from under the covers and looked at them, turning them and moving his fingers. He could actually feel them now. Last he remembered, he was numb and could hardly move. This sensation was certainly gratifying. Ryan pushed the covers back and looked at his attire. He was dressed in a plain cotton shirt and slacks. The only thing that worried Ryan was that he was missing his pistol. That was his only form of defense. Ryan sat up in his bed and suddenly the door swung open.

A man, probably in his late forties, was in the doorway. He was wearing a heavy duty coat and jeans. He had a cowboy style hat on and had a handlebar mustache that accented his rough face. He had an old Remington lever-action rifle in his right hand that looked to be enhanced by a variety of attachments and modifications.

"Looks like you woke up," the man said, walking inside and shutting the door behind him. He took his coat off, revealing his plaid, button down shirt. The man took a seat in his rocking chair and lit a cigarette. He held out one for Ryan.

"Oh, no," Ryan replied, putting his hand out to reject the drug. "I don't smoke."

"Suit yourself," the man said in return, putting the rejected cigarette back and puffing smoke.

"Uh...sir-" Ryan was cut off by the man.

"Call me Remmy."

"Uh...alright," Ryan replied with a slight hint of timidness in his voice. "Remmy, how long have I been out?"

"A few days," Remmy replied with a normal tone. "You were half frozen and bashed up like none other. It's normal."

"Did you...save me?"

"I guess you could say that," Remmy answered. "I was just being a good Samaritan and letting the wounded in, that's all."

"I appreciate it," Ryan replied.

"You should," Remmy replied, taking another large puff of his cigarette. Ryan looked around at the cabin and looked at the window. It was snowing out now and the window pane had frost all over it. "What's your name, kid?"

"Uh...it's James," he replied. "James Ryan."

"Never heard of ya, but it's a good name," he replied. Ryan didn't really know if that was a compliment or not, but decided to assume it was. Remmy was the man with the gun, after all.

"Where exactly am I?" Ryan asked, clueless on his current position. Truthfully, most of the time Ryan was unaware of where he was at. All this time he was running, he never really thought of it. Then again, it was hard to think about those things when you have man-eating dogs on your tail.

"You're in the middle of nowhere, bud," Remmy replied. "This is the intersection of the paths less traveled. We call it home."

"We?" Ryan asked, questioning the use.

"Yep, this log cabin happens to be my home in our little town. There's a few more people here, but it's still a small settlement. I like small communities, though. Everybody gets to know each other more instead of passing by hundreds of people each day in a large city and never seeing their faces again."

Ryan nodded, taking this in. He had no idea he was in a village. He just assumed it would be just a farm owned by a single family. Suddenly Ryan remembered that he was still being chased by those Royalists, although they were far off by now. His tracks were all over the place and the snow would soon cover them. If he left now, he could get a nice head start before they found him.

"I'm thankful for your help and all," Ryan said. "But I have to leave."

"Why?"

"It's a long story," Ryan replied.

"We have the time," Remmy countered smoothly.

"I don't have the time, though!" Ryan replied. "I need all of my belongings back so I can get out of here!"

"That's not gonna happen," replied Remmy, tightening his grip on his gun.

"What? Why not?"

"We saved you, brother," Remmy said, standing up. "Favors don't come free. I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to earn your stuff back."


Last edited by Chef on Sat Feb 20, 2010 2:20 am; edited 1 time in total
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Re: The Coward

Post by -Lexci- on Tue Feb 02, 2010 2:27 pm

Dude! Lol really good job. = D I'm like super into the story. keep goin plz!
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Tue Feb 02, 2010 5:27 pm

I haven't started the fourth chapter yet, but I will try soon! I have been very.... unproductive lately, so to speak!

Again, thanks for the input! I'm thinking of drawing a cover for this soon, so keep your eyes out everyone!

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Re: The Coward

Post by DJ. on Tue Feb 02, 2010 6:10 pm

.....Awesome....

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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Tue Feb 02, 2010 8:37 pm

(New chapter!)

Chapter Four - Peace Don't Come Free

Gunshots were heard. Bullets smacked into the cold steel of the military truck that James was stationed in. They were heading to an enemy outpost and they got ambushed on the way by guerilla soldiers. A few people were out on the ground already, trying to defend the trucks. A powerful machine gun was heard rattling, silencing a few shooters on the enemy side. It was horror. This was James' first taste of real war. He had never experienced being shot at until now. His very life was in danger, all for a cause that he did not support. Bang! James jumped as a bullet hole appeared right by his head. It was a very close shot. James was lucky to be alive.

"Don't worry kid," a man across from him on the other bench said. "That was a lucky shot. These rebels don't know ho-" he was suddenly cut off as a bullet flew through his head, drenching James in warm blood. James yelped and wiped his face of the red liquid, desperately trying to get it off of him. It was a strange sensation being drenched in the blood of another man, and James did not like it. The man across from his fell forwards into the aisle of the truck and blood poured onto the metal. James looked down on the man. He didn't even know his name. He probably had a job, a family, kids. Now that was all gone. All because a shaky rebel pulled a single trigger. Everything gone, because of something that simple. The thought burned into James' mind, making him shake with fear. Sergeant Rogers patted James on the back.

"Kid," he said assuredly, "Stuff like this happens all the time. Get used to it. Now follow me on my mark, everyone!"

Everyone in the truck readied their assault rifles without question. James slung his around shakily and cocked the gun. He wasn't sure about killing people. Was it right? Did these people really deserve it? James did not know. All he knew was that they were on one side, and he was on the other, and opposing sides tend to fight, and kill. He was not ready to kill a man. He did not even understand his own life. Taking someone else's would be horrible...

"Go!" yelled the sergeant, jumping out of the truck and diving behind a few iron boxes, bullets barely missing. "Go, go, go!"

The men filed out of the truck and took cover. James stumbled out, clumsily carrying his gun. He yelped as a bullet ringed past his head.

"Ryan, get the hell into cover!"

James ducked down and planted his back against the cold metal of the box. Bullets flashed past them and the men popped up every so often to fire at the enemy. James looked around the box to see a machine gun rapidly firing. He pulled his head back just in time before a bullet flew where it used to be. James panted. He couldn't do this! This was madness! Suddenly James looked and saw a man get shot right in the stomach, falling on the ground. The man was still alive, but the enemy could no longer see. He looked over at James and called for help in a pained tone. The man was bleeding badly, and soon it would be too late for him to live. James was faced with a decision. Leave the man and save his own skin, or attempt to save that man that he did not know, risking his life. James closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn't sure about his decision, but he would go with it.

James jumped out of cover when the machine gunner had to reload. The enemies yelled as he ran and grabbed the injured soldier, dragging his body where the boxes where.

"Ryan!" yelled his commander. "What the hell are you doing?"

The machine gunner on the enemy side frantically tried to reload. He didn't want to miss his shot. Adrenaline coursed through James, allowing him to move quicker, and pull the man easier. Right when James made it to the box, the machine gun was reloaded and bullets flew through the air. James let out a yelp and dived into cover with the man. They were safe.

"Thank...you," the man said, sputtering blood out of his mouth.

"Don't talk!" James said, frantically trying to cover the wound and apply pressure. "It's not too late to save you!"

The man grabbed James' arm and pushed it away.

"Yes it is!" the man said in a dark voice. "I have no chance. I'm...bleeding out..."

James opened his mouth to deny the claim, but nothing came out. The man was right, after all. Blood poured out the wound freely and the bullet probably struck an organ. He was doomed to die no matter what. There was no stopping it. James bowed his head. He didn't know what to do! Was he supposed to just sit here and let the man die? The man leaned up and grabbed James by the shirt.

"I have to favor to ask you," he said in a struggling voice.

"Whatever you want, I'll do it," James replied quickly, knowing the man didn't have much time left. The man dug into his coat and pulled out a piece of folded paper.

"This is a letter to my...parents," the man said, handing it to James. "I wrote it.....just in case. Take care of it. Send it. That......is.....my......." The man suddenly stopped and his arms went limp, losing his grip on James' arm. James closed the man's eyes and stuffed the note in his pocket. It was his duty to send the letter now. He had to do it for that man and his family. James wiped the tears off his eyes and suddenly the sergeant came up and grabbed him by the collar.

"Don't ever do anything like that again!" he yelled at him. "That man was going to die anyway! You don't risk your life for a man whose life is forfeit!"

James didn't understand. He had answered a man's dying wishes and was punished for it? This didn't make any sense.

"You got it?" sergeant Roger asked fiercely.

"Yes, sir," James answered halfheartedly.

"Good," said Roger, releasing his strong grip. "I'm glad we understand each other."

The sergeant went away and James looked down at the dead body. Did he do the right thing? Of course. Never leave a man behind, no matter what; that was what James thought. The sergeant was the wrong one. He was sick minded. At this moment, James realized how much, in fact, he hated Roger. In fact, he began to wish to kill him...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan shook his head, trying to stop the bad memories from returning to him. He raised his axe up in the air and chopped the logs in front of him. He had been up to this task ever since the morning, and it was taking a toll on him. Remmy was serious when he said that he would have to work for his belongings. Ryan cursed his name, but still continued. He liked the man, but he didn't exactly believe in his taxing ideas. He chopped away, trying to keep active so that the cold would not get to him. It was not as freezing as it was that night he had almost died, but it was still bad.

Life around this farmland was hard. All the jobs were physically and mentally taxing and there were plenty of them. Most of the time, Remmy seemed to escape into the forest to hunt for dinner. Ryan had a feeling that he was up to something else as well, because hunting a single deer does not take a whole day. He shrugged the thought aside for the moment and thought about the present. He set the axe on the ground in an upright position after a while and leaned on it, resting his weak arms.

Although he was having a bad time around here, Ryan kind of liked the peaceful quality this serene area had. There was little noise and it had an isolated feeling, which Ryan wanted. Being lonely becomes desirable after being chased by a group of men for a long time. In fact, Ryan wasn't sure if he wanted to leave this place so soon. Leaving would mean that he would have to keep an eye out for those Royalists.

Suddenly a thought dawned upon him. Was he endangering the people here by staying? Ryan put his hand on his chin and thought deeply. Was it really fair for him to keep his reasons for running a secret? They were his personal secrets, but did that make it right to conceal the terrible truth? Ryan didn't feel good about it, but he decided to keep it in for now. He wasn't sure how they would react to knowing that he was a Rebel.

"Hey, Ryan! Slacking on the job?"

Ryan turned to see Remmy carrying a dead deer on his back, smiling at him.

"I'm sorr-" Ryan was cut off by Remmy.

"I'm just messing with you, kid," he said, chuckling to himself. "You need to relax a bit, man! Quit being so paranoid! It will only make it worse for you."

"Yeah, thanks, Remmy," Ryan said, hefting the axe once more to continue.

"No problem."

Ryan was about to chop another piece of wood when he spotted something. Someone. It was a woman. A young lady with long black hair and a pale face. She was very beautiful and Ryan stared at her for a moment. The lady looked over, noticed Ryan, and walked back into a house hurriedly. Remmy noticed.

"You like her?" he asked.

Ryan blushed and turned to Remmy, scratching his head.

"Well....I don't really think-" Ryan was cut off as Remmy, suddenly furious, dropped the deer and grabbed Ryan by the collar, picking him up,

"Well, that's a good thing!" Remmy said in a menacing tone. "You listen up. You stay away from that gal, or I'll shoot you. Got it?"

Ryan nodded fearfully, and Remmy released his grip, dropping Ryan back onto the ground. Remmy picked up the deer and started to walk to the house.

"Her name's Mercy," he said over his shoulder. "She's my daughter."

Ryan looked at the ground and looked back at the man as he walked slowly to his cottage. Ryan picked up the axe and resumed his menial task with no questions asked.


Last edited by Chef on Tue Feb 02, 2010 11:50 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Re: The Coward

Post by King Calamity on Tue Feb 02, 2010 9:12 pm

The man dug into his coat and pulled out a piece of folded paper.

"This is a letter to my...parents," the man said, handing it to James. "I wrote it.....just in case. Take care of it. Send it. That......is.....my......."

(cough cough) Savingprivateryan (cough)

You know I'm messing with you. This is really good. I started reading this chapter just cause I had nothing better to do, and I couldn't stop. That's good.
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Tue Feb 02, 2010 10:02 pm

Lol, it's all Vin Diesel's fault! Yeah, that part was a little too much like the part from that movie, and I somehow knew you were going to say something about it!

Thanks for the input everyone! PLEASE comment and critique!

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Re: The Coward

Post by -Lexci- on Tue Feb 02, 2010 11:25 pm

Freaking brilliant! : D To be honest, I'm not usually into stuff like this, but I'm hooked. : ] Keep up the good work my man. ^^
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Re: The Coward

Post by Chef on Tue Feb 02, 2010 11:48 pm

Thanks a lot! I will work on the next chapter sometime (maybe not soon, but oh well). I want to draw a kind of cover page for this as well sometime too. Might happen, might not.

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Re: The Coward

Post by King Calamity on Sun Mar 14, 2010 9:07 pm

I did some digging and found out what the book is called this reminds me of!

It's called "Under a War-Torn Sky," by L.M. Elliot.
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Re: The Coward

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