After The Pandemic - Smith: The End of the World (2) (1286 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: After_the_Pandemic Smith
Rating: 1.77 on 30 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2005-06-09 16:21:12 EDT
Related Tales...
ATP - Intro http://www.ubersite.com/m/61238
ATP - Background
-Corrigan http://www.ubersite.com/m/61296
-Variant C http://www.ubersite.com/m/61350
ATP - Smith tales
-Archangels 1 http://www.ubersite.com/m/61513
-Archangels 2 http://www.ubersite.com/m/61755
-Archangels 3 http://www.ubersite.com/m/61985
-Archangels 4 http://www.ubersite.com/m/62289
-Archangels 5 http://www.ubersite.com/m/62570
-Smith in D.C. http://www.ubersite.com/m/64167
-Smith at Sea http://www.ubersite.com/m/64857
-Smith: The End of the World (1) http://www.ubersite.com/m/66658
=(2)=
"Ya fooked w' me cyakes, man! Ya fooked w'me fookin cyakes ya right cunt! I'll tumble ya to the brocks fi' this!"
Smith tried to sort out the meaning behind the words. He tried to sort it out fast. There was a gun in his face.
He heard other epithets, minger, gobshite, collypoddocks. He ignored them. That was rage venting.
The man with the gun was small and lean, with big hair and a waxed mustache. He was holding a shotgun.
The small man's muscle was over six feet. No hair, no eyebrows. One eye was three times larger than the other.
Smith was being accused of fucking with something.
He didn't want to find out what tumbling was, or who the brocks were.
'Cyakes.' Cakes? The only thing he had done since he had set foot on what appeared to be a once grand estate fallen to ruin was take a shortcut across an acre of shin-high grass and...
Smith closed his eyes. The cookies. They had to be the cakes he was about to die for.
"If it's the cookies you're talking about, I'm sorry. I only ate one."
He had been taking a shortcut across the rich green sward when he had seen a wooden chair and a tree-stump, and on the stump the plate holding what he knew as cookies and everyone else called cakes.
In truth, Smith had take one bite of the cookie, a biscuit with a thin layer of chocolate on top and a disgusting glob of orangy jelly inside, and retched. He had spit out the half-chewed bite of cookie and tossed the rest away. That was when all hell had broken loose. A shotgun has been fired over his head. The tabby which had been with him for days had leaped off of his duffle and raced into a hedgerow. A wall of muscle had blocked his escape.
"Ya clot, ya scab, ya rimlick!" The small man was on a roll. "I should bash yoor croon in wi' me stock!"
Smith didn't want his head caved in by a rifle butt.
"Look, I'm sorry. The rest of your... kee-akes, are fine. Let's us barter for the one I took. I have a few supplies in my duffle."
The smaller man looked at the big wall of muscle. "Hungee, riffle his draw and see what he's got."
The big man loosened the drawstring on one end of the duffle and dumped the contents of the canvas bag onto the grass.
"Nout ba' shite 'ere," Hungee said.
"Where are ya hailin fi'?" The small man asked.
Smith frowned. Hailing from?
"I'm from the Americas."
"Wha' areya doon here?"
"I'm here to rescue a girl. From a castle in Edinburgh. She's being held by a prince or a king or something."
The big man's eyes went wide. Smith watched the blood drain out of the smaller man's face.
"Fi' real, like?"
"Yes," Smith said.
The smaller man burst out laughing, broke his shogun, and hung it over one arm. He reached up and patted Smith on the back.
"Yoo're a'right, man! Have a cyake!"
*
They were sitting in front of a fireplace in a great hall. The chairs were old and sprung, but they were out of the cool night air.
Smith had been making his way steadily north when he came to a place hidden by a grease smudge on his map.
He learned later that the city only miles away was called New Castle. His heart had leaped, until he realized this could not be the castle he was looking for. That was further north.
The smaller man was Gordon Keef. The larger was simply known as Hungee. (Smith: "Hungee?" Keef: "Too right, man. He's hung like a fookin stallion. Dya want ta see it?" Smith: "Not right now.") They were part of a wandering group, gypsies, for lack of a better term, who served no leech knight and owned no lands. They were true survivors, and Smith liked them, despite his ongoing struggle to understand what the hell they were saying.
Gordon and Hungee had lived in New Castle as children, fleeing after an experimental Lora Duke had wiped out half the city.
Survivors had been playing with low-rad nukes for years now, trying to create a bomb that could wipe out leeches and leave cities intact and habitable. Heseltine's Hypothesis said that the right combination of low radiation and bright light could flash-fry leeches on a cellular level. It was the search for the kind of light radiation needed to accomplish the end of leech rule without erasing humanity in the process that was the challenge.
Heseltine had also said that the 'bright light' from a nuke of that sort would likely incinerate humans in the area as well, but he propsed that with the right balance of power a small number of humans could be sacrificed, burned alive in the light, while a far greater number of leeches were destroyed as the light expanded from the source, losing the power to kill survivors but still packing a wallop against leeches.
"This is all ah need," Gordon said, putting his feet up on a low table. He was holding a saucer. On the saucer was a teacup and a few of the revolting jelly-filled cookies.
Smith took a cookie from a tarnished platter and pretended to chew while swallowing it three quick bites and trying not to shudder at the taste.
"Me tea and me jaffa cyakes and a loaded gun, and I'm set to rights."
Smith had learned a lot in the last few hours. He now knew that Gordon was a Geordie, and that 'those Welsh fookers' (and others Smith had encountered in the southwest) called munchers jordys because everyone knew that all any muncher ever said was "Broon-broon," and there had once been an ale prized by the Geordies called Newcastle Brown... known simply as 'broon.'
The Geordies called the munchers Welshers.
Brocks were woggies, the mutant badgers found everywhere on the island. They were the size of bears, and they lived in underground tunnels. Capital punishment among the Tyne River Gypsies was simple. A man was bound and shoved into a 'sett-in,' the entrance to the maze of tunnels and chambers (a sett) of a brock colony.
Gordon washed down a jaffa cake with a sip of tea. "Z'it fi real, you goin north to steal a woman away fi' Lord Daric?"
Smith worked his fingers into thick orange hair. The tabby had returned, and was sitting on his lap. Upon seeing the tabby Hungee had haltingly offered Smith a bit of Tyne gypsy lore - having a cat join you on the road was a good omen.
"Yeah," Smith said. "That's why I crossed the sea."
Keef shook his head and clapped his hands. "Yoo're on a quest!"
Hungee's uneven eyes blinked slowly. "Wha'boot ta woll?"
Smith looked at Keef.
"Ah," Gordon said. "Right."
Smith waited.
"There's a woll," Gordon said. "Used ta be called Harridan's Woll or like. In ancient times. Darius gave it a rebuild and has collypoddocks manning watch stations along it."
Smith had been told that survivor serfs serving knights, and ultimately, Lord Darius, were known as collypoddocks, a bastardization of the original 'mollycoddled bollocks.' Neither made any sense to Smith.
"You're kidding," Smith said.
Gordon shook his head. "Na. Wish I was. It runs fi' the River Tyne to Carlisle. Over a hundred kilometers. "
Smith thought of his map, and did the conversion in his head. Nearly eighty miles. "Well, I'll just have to cross this wall then."
"I's tain me'ers high," Hungee said. "For'ee me'ers tick. You need snatchin' right good."
Smith looked at Keef. "Snatching?"
Gordon nodded. "Yup. You need a binder, someone who, for a small fee or service. can arrange a binding agreement to snatch you through the wall and be received by a safe guide on the other side."
Smith felt tired.
"And I just happen to know a Snatchbinder," Gordon said.
*
Edmund Snatchbinder looked like he had been shat out of an elephant.
He was small and round, filthy, and he smelled bad.
His accent was rough going for Smith.
"Oy'll tae ye to th'woll, an pass ye oor, ba ye've got ta gi' sairface in kind, like."
Service in kind. Barter chores.
It was late morning. The grass smelled fresh with dew.
Smith had been introduced to other Tyne Gypsies, a blur of pale, thin faces, and then Gordon had sent a runner out onto the roads.
Snatchbinder had agreed to meet them halfway along a country lane.
Edmund and Gordon talked, and Gordon went as white as paste.
"Snatchbinder has a sett o' brocks near his favored woll crossing. He needs someone to go doon into the sett an clean it out."
"That might take a lot of bullets," Smith said.
"He'll give you torches. Pitch on a stick, like. Burn 'em out."
Smith didn't like the way this sounded. "Alone?"
Gordon nodded. "He says he does'na want to risk his family."
Edmund muttered something to Gordon.
"And that would be your payment," the Geordie said.
Edmund muttered something else to Gordon.
The Geordie looked at his feet.
Smith prompted him. "And?"
"He thinks the Brocks mi' be diseased."
"Disaesed?"
"Aye. Sort a, yunno, rabid, like."
"Kah-roist Jai-zuz," Hungee said.
Smith agreed with the big man's sentiment. "Maybe I should just try crossing this wall on my own."
"Yee'll nair make it, son," Snatchbinder said.
"Gordon, can you vouch for this guy? Do you know of people he has gotten past the wall?"
"Sure. I know of ones he's taken to the woll... once they're over, we ne'er hear fi them agin."
So it could all be a scam, Smith thought. Edmund could just lead people to the wall, and capture by the leeches, or kill them himself and hide the bodies. Who would know? If asked about anyone the small man with the big odor would just say that so-and-so went over the wall.
Trina Klozy whispered in his ear, so close he could almost feel the heat of her breath. "Please."
Edmund Snatchbinder waited.
"Okay," Smith said, withdrawing one of his revolvers. "But if you're fucking with me, this goes up your ass, and then I empty the cylinder into your guts."
*
Six hours later, Smith was on his back.
The air reeked of sour excrement and rotting meat.
Smith was lying in a low and wide tunnel gouged into the earth. A small stone bit into the small of his back like a tooth. He was more concerned with real teeth, however.
A brock had him pinned down. The beast was bigger than Smith and outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. It was filthy, sick, dying, deranged. Foam glittered in the corners of its mouth. Teeth that were yellowed, cracked, and broken worked on a thick old piece of tree root. Smith had jammed the dead root into those jaws just as the brock had knocked him down. He had dropped his torch and one revolver - the other was in a holster sling under one massive mutant badger paw.
Smith had his hands full, one forcing back a set of claws which were digging bloody troughs between his ribs, the other shaking with the effort of keeping the brock's head away from him.
He knew that if he survived this he would have nightmares about those rolling eyes, bloodshot with madness and disease.
The massive jaws tensed, and the root shattered. The shaggy head dipped towards Smith's throat.
Smith began to regret taking Edmund Snatchbinder up on his offer.
User Reviews
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2008-06-29 15:35:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You do know that orange tabby cats are the ugliest (apart from persians and the like, inbred cats that don't look like cats are uglier) catkind there is, right?
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-09-25 17:25:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
well you haven't got there yet, and I can't read any more tonight.
is it Daric or Darius?
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-09-25 15:25:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
ZAK...
Go easy on my Edinburgh details as you read this...
It's been a while since I was there.
Love that city though, so I had to use it somehow.
Submitted by Falconer (user info) at 2005-07-28 18:46:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Supreme_Overlord (user info) at 2005-07-21 22:36:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shite
Submitted by notyou (user info) at 2005-07-13 16:20:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-06-30 23:06:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice work on the accents. I love reading your work.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-06-30 16:20:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by hcp28 (user info) at 2005-06-23 15:03:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is getting better and better!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-06-13 12:22:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm definitely not the SI guy.
I have fun with the accents too. Remember, I'm writing most of this at work, so it will be a little rough.
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2005-06-13 10:32:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh shit I forgot to Mention this. I was reading this months SI the other day and I noticed a couple of Articles by a certain Jack McCallum. That wouldn't be you would it?
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2005-06-13 10:29:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Really good. Yes the people saying it was a little choppy/disjointed have a point but so do you when you say that if you were to include all the transition scenes and what not the thing would be a thousand pages long by now and besides for me the story carries along more than well enough to make up for it.
As for the accents I think they're great! I look forward to more.
As an aside you should try and get your hands on a copy of Terry Prattchets "The Wee Free Men" if you want to see just how hilarious an over the top Scottish accent can be in print. It's a great book and may give you a few ideas.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2005-06-10 00:17:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-05-20 16:56:08 (#)
Ranking: -2
At least today is Friday.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-06-09 22:01:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wooooo!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-06-09 21:32:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-06-09 21:11:04 (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome, Jack. It's so damn fun writing heavy accents like that. You did a good job with consistency...the Scottish dude in my story doesn't always pronounce the same things the same ways.
Anyway, I really liked it...but the 'damsel in distress' thing, with her being trapped in a castle, it just seems a little...ordinary. Nothing that will make me stop reading though, not even close.
--
Yes... but it is WHY she is imprisoned that is important. Is she being punished... or is there another reason no one, not even the leeches, want her walking free? Stay tuned.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-06-09 21:31:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by iddqd (user info) at 2005-06-09 19:35:31 (#)
Ranking: 2
Really, really good. Needs work structurally, but this is after all uber, and im certain that you already know this. the accents are pretty good, but some of the words made me cringe a little. 'cobbledooks' or whatever that word was is an adaptation of words i never heard any geordie say. well, bolloks, yeah, but the rest of it...
--
Remember though, this is far in the future. In every ATP story I make up words for all kinds of shit, slang we don't use now.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-06-09 21:11:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome, Jack. It's so damn fun writing heavy accents like that. You did a good job with consistency...the Scottish dude in my story doesn't always pronounce the same things the same ways.
Anyway, I really liked it...but the 'damsel in distress' thing, with her being trapped in a castle, it just seems a little...ordinary. Nothing that will make me stop reading though, not even close.
Submitted by iddqd (user info) at 2005-06-09 19:35:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Really, really good. Needs work structurally, but this is after all uber, and im certain that you already know this. the accents are pretty good, but some of the words made me cringe a little. 'cobbledooks' or whatever that word was is an adaptation of words i never heard any geordie say. well, bolloks, yeah, but the rest of it...
if you were to develop this, id recommend you get someone who speaks with that accent to advise you and the correct language to use or adapt.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:57:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
still money though
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:57:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:21:55 (#)
Ranking: 0
As for where it is going... don't forget the title!
---------------
oh. well that kind of gives it away
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:21:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:17:16 (#)
Ranking: 2
the rest seemed a bit...choppy i guess. too quick from one scene to another. but i love where its going
--
Choppy, yeah. If i write out every transitional scene this thing will be a thousand pages long, and this is all set-up so far. From now on the shit is gonna keep hitting the fan.
As for where it is going... don't forget the title!
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:17:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
that was f ucking awesome..i love this motherfucking series bitchcuntsheistfuck! tahts all i got
good work with the accents, very snatch-like. i could hear the accent in my head.
the rest seemed a bit...choppy i guess. too quick from one scene to another. but i love where its going
nukes, noble quests, etc
you got potential, kid.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:15:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
blazingly good!
Submitted by dodahdave (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:03:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yay, Smith!
Thanks Jack!
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-06-09 17:01:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
atta fuckin boy. good work.
i'll read it now
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2005-06-09 16:56:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I need to change my shorts.
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-06-09 16:43:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I would write another one of these but I lack.....what's the word?
Oh yea, talent.
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2005-06-09 16:39:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Thanks Jack... these rock.
you wanna have my babies?
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-06-09 16:37:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
write a fucking book
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-06-09 16:22:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
For anyone who is actually still following this series... I've got lots of shit going on right now, so I have less time to hang around here. I'll try to keep these chapters coming though.
Enjoy, and have a nice weekend everyone.