I didn't quit, I just haven't had time to write more.

Yes, candid pics of Bruce were taken, along with a photo of myself with Bruce autographing my Army of Darkness poster and director's cut DVD. You can see some pics of the Groovy World Tour 2008: Starring Bruce Campbell in my thread in GD.

I'll get around to the next chapter whenever I have time to sit down and remember how I've got this segment of the story worked out.

Hell of a good story AGAIN
thanx

New chapter coming Friday!

I'm in a writing mood.

Ok, I'm sitting down to write now.

Chapter 8

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The next day, Hope slept in until almost noon. The bed was so comfortable, she couldn't make herself get out of it. She finally got up when Eli and Nick came in and threatened to drag her outside if she didn't get out of bed.

Once dressed, she joined them outside.

"What have you been to, Eli?"

Eli literally bounced up and down in excitement.

"This town is really cool, Hope! They don't have lots of cars so they use horses to go everywhere! And Nick took to go see a blacksmith, and he had lots of really cool stuff! It was really hot in there, and he let me wear his leather apron and hit a horse shoe with his hammer! It was awesome!"

Hope blinked several times, then looked at Nick.

"What were you guys doing at a blacksmith?"

"My old hunting knife snapped off at the hilt a few weeks ago. I really liked it, so I'm paying him to forge me a new one. He's pretty good; he's going to copy the design of my knife and then slap the old handle on over the tang."

Eli grabbed Hope's hand and yanked it up and down as he jumped, showing her a badly mangled horse shoe.

"See? He let me keep it after he cooled it off in a bucket of water! It was great, steam went shooting everywhere! And the blacksmith was the biggest man I'd ever seen! He's got this huge mustache and this really cool scar on his neck like an L with an 8 next to it!"

"An L with an 8 next to it? On his neck?"

Nick's eyes narrowed and his tone hardened.

"Slaver's mark. They take a branding iron and burn their mark into the base of your neck, usually on the left side. Let's people know that you're... property. Cheaper than tattooing and you can't take it off like a collar."

"Oh gosh," Hope covered her mouth, "You mean he's a slave?!"

"No. Slavery is illegal in Wilma and the surrounding area. It's illegal in most civilized places, at least this far west. He escaped a few years ago and the folks here took him in when they found out he knew how to handle steel. He's one of the most important people in town now."

"I can imagine, being a blacksmith. But a slave? That's horrible! I didn't think... Um..."

"Didn't think people really did that? I guess if you've been sheltered all your life, grew up in some place where things hadn't gotten so bad, you'd hear about it, but it'd be too abstract to really believe."

Nick's glower became an outright snarl. He wasn't looking at Hope any more.

"It's disgusting what people do to each other. That's why I try to spend as much time out in the wilderness, even the wastelands, as possible. Getting killed by animals or radiation is better than letting people get their hands on you. Far better."

Hope, unsure how to respond to that, let an awkward silence hang for a long moment. Clearing her throat, she broke it by asking, "So, uh, where's Sam? Did he go to the blacksmith with you?"

Nick snorted, his apparent anger vanishing in an instant.

"Hardly. Sam likes people even less than I do, so we're not in town very often. Some place as comfy as a hotel room is a rare luxury for us, so... Uh, it's gonna be practically impossible to drag him out of there."

Hope's forehead wrinkled a little.

"What does he do in there all day? I mean, I guess he could sleep in like I did, but is he going to do that the whole time we're here?"

"Ha! Hardly. You don't have much time for relaxing out in the wastelands; you're either doing something necessary, or looking over your shoulder for danger every five seconds. We spend most of our time in civilization catching up on our reading. Plus Sam likes to hog the air conditioning."

"I can imagine, the way he's always covered up with that scarf and jacket."

"Eh, the jacket's not that warm. I would know, it used to be mine. Besides, the weather's usually cooler this time of year. It's really weird, it being this warm; it's almost like it was before the war, before the weather patterns got all messed up from the nukes. I guess things are returning to normal, at least as far as the planet goes."

Eli was shifting from one foot to the other, irritated with the boring conversation but too polite to interrupt his elders; Hope placed one hand on his head to hold him still.

"Why does he wear that scarf and jacket if it's warm, anyway? Wouldn't it make more sense to just take them off? I mean, I can understand always a hat, but it's a little... odd." She quickly added, "Not that I'm trying to be rude or stick my nose in anybody's business, of course, I just, uh-"

Nick laughed it off.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone out in the wastelands has their little quirks. We get real attached to our possessions; sentimental, I guess. I even talk to the truck sometimes. Sam thinks I'm going crazy whenever I do it. You might try asking Sam about it, see what kind of an answer you get."

"Wouldn't he just not say anything, like usual?"

"Um... Yeah."

"Why won't he talk with us?"

"Like I said, Sam likes people even less than I do. You know what, you haven't gotten to see Wilma, so what do you say Eli and I show you around?"

Eli jumped and whooped and began tugging on Hope's arm,  telling her about the things he'd seen. After a few moments of resistance, she gave in and let the two lead her away.

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Wilma was a serious community. It was interesting to see the shops, but it wasn't very entertaining. You could only look at a gun smith, cobbler, or cooper for so long before it became boring. The people in the town were hard-working, and apparently spent most of their time laboring just to survive.

Even the children were hard at work, tending livestock, killing rats, or learning to read in the house that had been converted into a one-room school. The old, pre-war school had been converted into a hospital since Wilma had never had so much as a first aid clinic before the bombs fell; in those days, the next town over was just minutes away and a serious emergency would warrant a helicopter from the major hospital there. Now, most of that town was ruins, destroyed by fires and looting shortly after the nuclear strikes, and the school was the only hospital for dozens of miles in any direction.

Wilma had been warned by people fleeing that town. Warned not to let refugees in. They came from the cities, with no food, no water, no electricity. At first, they'd streamed in by car, then on foot. There had been miniature riots at gas stations as they fought over fuel to continue fleeing. The ones on foot had no money for food from the stores. Most of the stores had given away handouts, but more and more refugees continued to stream in from the cities. The food began to run out and was rationed. The refugees were angry. They began looting the stores. Then they spread out into residential areas and began camping on people's lawns, begging for food, shelter from the weather and the fallout.

Some people let them into their homes, and this made other refugees jealous. They demanded to be allowed inside too, demanded to be given a share of food and water. There wasn't enough to go around, and anger and resentment grew. Smarter residents refused to let anyone in and refused to share what little they had. This did nothing to make the refugees less angry and resentful.

Eventually, it became a full-blown riot. Refugees stormed into homes by the dozen, typically killing the owners when they resisted. Businesses were looted by crowds of thousands. Women were raped in the streets. In many parts of town, the rioting was racially charged and people were shot, stabbed, or beaten to death for being the wrong color.

Residents fled ahead of the ravenous, lawless mob and arrived in Wilma in time to warn them of what was coming. The people of Wilma barricaded the streets with trucks, began erecting wooden fences and barbed wire to keep people on foot out, and formed a militia. Except for their neighbors that had escaped to warn them, Wilma would be letting no one into town.

The refugees from the cities angry at being refused entry, but the people of Wilma were dead serious. Eventually, the body count grew high enough that the streaming hordes of humanity flowed around the town like a river flowing around a boulder in its path; none wanted to brave the rifle and shotgun fire of the people of Wilma any more. They descended on the surrounding countryside like locusts, stripping the farms and ranches of anything and everything they wanted to take, then moved on until they were only rumors. The town of Wilma continued to fortify itself, and had maintained its no-nonsense approach for all these years.

This was the condensed version of Wilma's history that Hope got listening to Nick and the various residents she encountered on her tour of the community. She met the blacksmith that had so impressed Eli, and he truly was a giant of a man. He was loud, he had a roaring laugh that followed all of his jokes, a big, black handlebar mustache. If he hadn't been bald, she'd have sworn he was almost identical to the Theodore Roosevelt person she'd read about in the only history book she'd had at home. His humor was infectious, and he simply had presence.

Hope found her eyes kept returning to the ugly scar on his neck; it did indeed look an L and an 8 close together, a reddened welt on his skin. He noticed her stares and, though his mood became slightly subdued, if that was possible, he made several self-deprecating jokes about how he should have taken up running as a child instead of learning how to work a furnace and anvil. He informed Nick that his knife would be ready by tomorrow afternoon, gave him a slap on the back that obviously winded the smaller man, and returned to his work on a plowshare.

"He certainly was... interesting. I can see why he impressed Eli so much. He has a very... loud, personality."

Nick chuckled and rubbed his back, straightening one strap on his chest rig.

"He certainly does at that. We should get lunch soon, then I'll show you two the town museum. It's got a bunch of indian stuff and some relics from the frontier days; I think you'll like it."

––––––––––––––––––––––-

That night, Hope and Eli relaxed in their beds, enjoying the cool breeze from the ancient, laboring air conditioner under the window. Lunch had been good, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and pickles, but dinner was stew and biscuits again. According to Nick, that was the most common meal here as it was easy to make. Hope decided that must get boring after a while, though the stew was certainly delicious.

In Nick and Sam's room, Johnny Cash began singing again, so Hope flipped through the small cd case Nick had given her and looked at the DVD's it contained. One had a scorch mark on it, indicating it had apparently been through a fire at some point. Ferris Beuller's Day Off. Intriguing. She stuck it into the DVD player, took some time figuring out how to work the television, and started the movie. It drowned out some of the music from next door.

Hope and Eli enjoyed the movie, though they didn't really understand the majority of cultural references throughout it. When she turned the television off and retrieved the DVD from the player, she noticed the music had stopped and she could hear water running in the next room.

"Ok Eli, time for bed."

"Awwww!"

Hope gave him a playful swat to the back of the head and together they went to brush their teeth. They both took a quick shower and headed for bed.

Lying in the dark, Hope luxuriated in the almost forgotten sensation of having a bed all to herself and rubbed the soft flannel blanket against her cheek.

"Hope?"

"Yes?"

"I'm having lots of fun. This trip was worth it."

"Don't say that yet. We're not even a third of the way there."

"Yeah. Night."

"Goodnight."

Thanks for the  new chapter. You've got talent keep it up.

BTT for day crew.

Very good glad I came across it.

Just so you guys know, I've got the rough outlines for the next couple chapters worked out, so I just need to find time to sit down and write. Expect two or three new chapters before the end of the month.

Awesome!  And I thought this past one was another great installment, thanks.  

when finished, will you be making the story, in its entirety, available as a word/adobe file?

Can we hold you to your word on that? Cause your stories are like ammo, we always need more.

I don't know enough about computers to make a pdf, but others do. One e-mailed me a pdf containing The Survivor in its entirety, so I'm sure someone will do the same for From Sea To Shining Sea. I do save each chapter to a word file after I post it though, just in case the thread disappears or something.

I figure after I crank out a few more of these stories, I can go through and edit them for the numerous typos I'm sure are present (I noticed half a dozen in the latest chapter alone) and maybe stick them all in a book of short stories and get it published.

I've no problem with people saving the stories, and I don't mind folks sharing them with friends and family who may like to read them. I just ask that anyone who does so includes my screen name for authorship and a link to the appropriate thread(s).

Nice update, Swindle!

Enjoying it!

Michael

What the heck, I've got the next part worked out, why not.



Chapter 9

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Hope rose with the sun this time, catching Nick on his way out. Didn't that man ever sleep in?

"Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Like what?"

Hope paused for a moment to sort out what she wanted to say, then continued, "You were expecting Eli and I to provide for ourselves on this trip. I'd like to do that. But, since we paid you, we don't have much to barter with, so I'm wondering how we would go about buying provisions."

"Oh. Well... what can you do? What sort of service can you provide?"

"Um... I know first aid, and I know my way around prescriptions."

Nick shook his head.

"This town has its own hospital. Worthless here. What else?"

Hope frowned deeply as she tried to think of some skill or knowledge she had that was marketable. None were coming to mind.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll come up with something. Meanwhile, you paid enough, we can afford a little charity for a while. Now, unless you wanted something else, I've got business to attend to."

Hope nodded and Nick walked away, both dogs trotting along behind him. Well, she thought, there's nothing like being a fifth wheel.

––––––––––––––––––––––––-

Nick, it seemed, had been on an information gathering mission all day. He had updated his maps, gotten weather reports from travelers who frequented the area so he knew what sort of climate to expect, and the latest news and rumors about bandits and other dangers.

He'd marked off on his map a place contaminated by chemical weapons that had been found in a cache last year and accidentally spilled by the treasure hunters trying to bring them back to sell. He also marked off an area where a giant, mutant bear supposedly lived and had allegedly eaten a traveler. Hope had laughed at that one, but Nick's serious expression had made her wonder just how outlandish such a rumor was.

He had also purchased fuel for the Tatra, bought more provisions, and picked up the knife he had ordered. He seemed pleased with it, and commented that it might actually be better than the original. It had a six inch blade, thick and heavy, that curved downward slightly, like the kukri her father had had hanging above the mantle at home, though the curve was more subtle. The grip was black hard rubber, ribbed to provide a good grip, with a hole in the end for a lanyard. Except for the razor-sharp edge, the blade had been colored black somehow. Nick commented that it kept light from reflecting off the blade; Hope didn't understand why that was an issue.

"Well, I'd say we're as ready as we'll ever be. We leave at dawn tomorrow. When you get hungry, go to the lobby for dinner, it's already paid for."

"Where are you going to be?"

"Me? I'm enjoying the comforts of civilization while I can."

With that, Nick winked and went back to his room.

––––––––––––––––––––––

Hope flipped through the ancient National Geographic magazine left in the motel room for guests to read and tried to ignore the noise. The cd had changed from Johnny Cash to some rock band she didn't recognize, but it hadn't gotten any quieter. Eli hummed along with the music, intent on the children's book about dinosaurs that old woman who ran the motel had given him.

Several times something hit the wall. Hope hadn't figured Nick and Sam for the partying type, but she guessed you had to blow off steam somehow. The music finally stopped and shortly afterward she could hear water running in the shower again. She just hoped they wouldn't have a hangover in the morning.

––––––––––––––––––––––––-

Neither of them had a hangover when they banged on the door to wake Hope and Eli up. The sun wasn't up yet, but they were both eager to be on the road it seemed. Hope made sure she and Eli hadn't left anything in the room, then they carried their things to the truck and loaded up. Sam took the dogs and ran all the way to the gate at the other end of town while Nick started up the truck and worked his way down the streets.

"Why is Sam running there instead of riding in the truck?"

"Hm? Oh. He's exercising the dog's. They don't get much of a workout riding in the truck, so we have to work the kinks out and let them run around at every chance we get."

"Oh." She thought for a moment, then asked, "So how do you two get any excercise? I can't imagine sitting in a truck all day does you guys any good."

"We get up before you, remember? Situps, pushups, jumping jacks, that sort of thing. Every morning. Whenever we're not staying on the move, anyway. And usually when we're in the wastelands, we park the truck somewhere, hide it, and roam around on foot for a few days at a time, scavenging for stuff. All right, here's the gate."

Nick scooted over to the passenger side and Sam took his place at the wheel. The dogs found their respective places in the truck and panted happily. Hope was impressed; Sam had run almost a mile and was barely breathing heavily. Apparently these two explorers-slash-scavengers did keep in shape. She poked at her slightly pudgy sides and reflected that she should probably start doing morning exercises too.

The guards at the gate let the big truck through and they were officially on the road again. Nick turned the cabin light on to review his maps and directed Sam onto the north road, then made some notes in his little journal notebook before turning the light off again. The sky gradually brightened with the rising sun, but for now the headlights on the road were still brighter.

Hope glanced over at Eli and noticed that he'd falled asleep again. She smiled and returned her attention to the view through the windshield. Once, a small tree had fallen across the road and the massive Tatra just rolled right over it. Something in the back of the truck made a loud, metallic thump. Nick looked up and rubbed his forehead.

"I forgot to secure that empty kerosene can."

Sam glanced over questioningly.

"It'll be fine. It won't hurt anything until we stop for lunch."

The truck rolled on.

BTT

Forgot to edit the title so people knew there was ANOTHER new chapter.

Awesome, keep it up.

+1

I just GOTTA know!!!!  Is Sam really a girl?!!!  Light build, keeps under wraps of heavy clothing, doesn't talk, stays in the hotel room, they turn up the TV real loud at times (so the noise they make is covered up maybe????).  I'm thinking Sam is really Samantha, and is a SMOKIN' hot blonde!!!!

It is very simple to change a word document (.doc file) into a pdf.

Step 1. Go Here

Step 2. On the site, click browse and find the file on your computer.

Step 3. On the site, click convert

Step 4. Save the pdf document that pops up.

And your done.

LOL. Don't give Markypie any ideas for his "special" chapters.

Great job!! Can't wait for more

Useful. Thanks.

Thanks for the new chapters, Swindle.  Great job.

HE LIVES!

So Sam is really Samantha. We're ridin' dirty now. Great story Swindle, keep it up. Just let me know if you need a break.

You keep your perversions to yourself or I'll stick you in the story just so I can kill you off.



Wait- that may actually encourage such behavior. Dang it, now I don't know what to do.

Don't worry, I said I wouldn't do it again, and I'm as good as my word, usually.

Just an update guys:

I've got the outline for the next chapter (next several chapters, actually) worked out, but I have a wedding to go to (I'm an usher) this weekend, then I'm chilling at the range with a friend and playing some Call of Duty, and then it's Thanksgiving. Plus, I have SEVERAL papers I gotta write.

So. Long story short, no new chapter for at least a week. BUT, the good news is, because I've worked out the outlines for the next few chapters, you should get at least two or three new chapters a day or so apart when I start writing again.

Also, Markypie: You know I love you, man.

hey man are ya done with finals yet?????????????????????

We sure could use a nice deversion from from all the crapola out there PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nope. I graduate next weekend; then I have a month off before I head off to train for the park services.

Don't let the drill instructors break you, Swindle.

AWESOME story!!! You have a real knack for writing.  I am really looking forward to these next chapters. Great job on The Survivor as well

I won't be worried until and unless they start calling me Private Pyle.

New chapter please.

Read the update. Not happening for at least a week.

MOAR!!!


Seriously though, you should write a big fricking book.


Not to be a kissass or anything, but you have a talant.

Good readers make good writers. And I have a shit-load of books sitting in my room that I've read.

Very likely I'll do the next chapter this coming week. Not happening tonight; I'm exhausted from loading my stuff for two hours, driving for four hours, unloading my stuff, and my leg hurts (ran full-tilt into a stone bench that was invisible in the dark; I SHOULD have gone to the hospital to get it stitched up, but my SF first aid skills took care of it. The torn ligament is sore from going up and down stairs carrying appliances and shit though. ).

Oh, and my cat may be dying, so the mood obviously isn't there.

BUT, it's likely I'll have the next chapter up between now and next Sunday.

This will probably be the first time you have heard this from a reader, but take your time.

So, I'm thinking you guys are going to want a Christmas gift, amirite?

YES!

But first things first, how is the cat?

You can look up the thread in GD for all the details, but long story short, he died early Thursday morning.

Sorry to hear that. We had to put one down last week due to Kidney failure. It is never easy.

So, yeah, new chapter tonight. Dunno how long it'll be, it depends on whether or not I've got time to post the entire next segment of the story or if I'm really busy and can only post part of it.

Either way, you suckers are getting a new chapter

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas

And to you and yours.

Sorry guys, I've been sick. I can only focus long enough to make snarky comments. Writing out a chapter is beyond my attention span at the moment. And that's before I took medication that made me loopy.

You'll get your chapter tomorrow, when I feel better.

Tomorrow? Its been tomorrow twice already! Come on man I need the next chapter.

No worries - hope you get to feeling better.

Hey guys, new update:

Feeling much better and am able to focus on things for extended periods of time. I'm going to go pee and then write up the new chapter right now.

YAY!!!