DaCosta
Habitual Daydreamer
- Joined
- Aug 19, 2013
- Messages
- 277
I'm just working my way through the first draft of my WIP and added this scene a few nights ago. I've gone over it a few times since and thought I should have a go at posting it here. Mind you, I'm freakin' terrified of you lot but hey, it's all for the greater good, right.
This is 1st draft, so it hasn't been through any edits. I do hope it's not too much of a slog!
The reader has met Megan before, but not Jack. So I'm keen to know what your impression of him is.
Setting is post-apoc, the reader is well aware of that at this point in the story. However, this scene does happen quite early on, so I'm still trickling in some world building at this stage. Think Walking Dead but with vampires.
(Hides behind sofa) Go for it...
~~~
Megan perched on the step of a rusted old train carriage, knees drawn up as she watched the sun rise. Beneath the platform canopy behind the carriage, Jack and the others huddled around a small campfire, sheltering amongst the ruins of what must have once been a bustling railway station.
The train yard opened out to the east, where the rising sun had begun to bleed the sky red, casting a burnt orange hue over scattered remains of the town they had fled the night before.
She watched for signs of the two men she had left behind, hoping she might see them shuffling up the tracks towards them, but as the minutes turned into hours, she began to realise they weren’t coming.
The murmurs of the group drifted to her on the breeze, an occasional sob rising above the whispers. Megan’s chest tightened, anxiety and guilt leeching outward. She knew what they were discussing. They had left Graham and Devon behind and it was her fault. It had been the right thing to do, but that didn’t stop it from feeling so wrong. Her gut told her she should have stayed, should have tried something. Anything. But she ran. She had heard Devon’s howl of pain and still she had fled. How could she live with that?
Jack approached, hands tucked deep into the pockets of his wrinkled wax jacket. His smile fell short of meaningful, tired eyes pinched with worry.
“Are you alright?” he asked, lifting his cap and rubbing a hand across his forehead.
She dared not speak, not trusting her voice. Instead she shook her head, swiping a few stray tears off her cheek.
She tried to be brave, but there was something about Jack that spoke directly to the little girl cowering inside her. His skin weathered by the harsh outdoor life, grizzled hair splayed out beneath the grubby cap he rarely removed, he reminded her of her father, what little she could remember of him. It wasn’t so much his appearance, but the way he always seemed to be there, offering support, even when she screwed up.
“You did the right thing.” He assured.
Megan turned her head away. His kind words choked her, wrenching a few sobs free.
“You know,” she whispered, hoping to hide the depth of her grief, “We never thanked him. He didn’t know us. He could have left us all for dead. He saved us, Jack. Every day he stayed, he saved us... and not once did we thank him.”
Jack leant a shoulder against the carriage, brushing flakes of rust off his coat. His silence confirmed Megan’s thoughts. Jack hadn’t liked Devon, most of them hadn’t. Devon hadn’t made it easy for them to get to know him, but they couldn’t deny the fact he had saved their lives. They wouldn’t miss him though and that hurt her even more. He didn’t deserve to be forgotten.
“Listen, Megan,” Jack said, “They need you.” He lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting company. “The others need someone strong. They can’t see you like this. I can’t give them what they want to hear, I’m no good at all that… talk. You need to put it behind you. Whatever you saw, whatever happened, get over it.”
She glared at him. How could he say that, didn’t he care at all about Graham, about Devon. “He had a family you know, once.” She said. Jack frowned, whether he knew about Devon’s family or not, she couldn’t be sure, but her words appeared to strike a nerve in him. “He wouldn’t talk about it.”
“We all had families once.”
Megan often forgot that Jack had been alive when the world had been a very different place. She only knew the desolation, but he had lived in a world bustling with life, where millions of people mingled in cities, where the towns shone bright at night, streetlights and houses lit up, their glow painting the night sky orange with light pollution. A world with a constant supply of electricity, where every house buzzed with technology and rivers of cars flowed back and forth along the now deserted roads. She could only imagine what it had been like to be cushioned by such a world. He didn’t like to talk about it, as was so often the case with anyone that remembered the time before the virus had ravaged modern civilisation. She knew very little about his family, his life before, and couldn’t remember much of her own early years. He was right though, everyone had lost family.
“Megan,” Jack met her wide-eyed stare, his gaze softer than before. “You need to forget Devon. We’re grateful for what he did, of course we are, but he had it coming. Nobody can take the risks he did and survive for long.”
Anger flashed inside her, snuffing out the guilt. “He died because of us, you get that right?”
Jack lifted a hand defensively. “We hardly knew him. Forget him. It’s not Devon you should be thinking about, it’s Emma. She’s in pieces back there. You’ve got to talk to her.”
Mention of Emma sent a fresh heart-wrenching wave of grief through her. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can.”
Megan shook her head, her reply catching in her throat. “They could be alive…” Even as she said it, she knew it was a false hope. She had heard the screams, knew the odds of surviving an ambush like that were slim and yet she had seen Devon slaughter rogue vampires without so much as breaking a sweat. He had lived to hunt them, almost as though he enjoyed it. His ruthless tactics had scared the others, but Megan had seen in him what they needed to do to survive. If anyone could get out of an ambush alive, it was Devon.
“We could go back…” She looked hopefully at Jack, but the resignation on his face dashed any hope she had left.
“We’ll give them a few hours,” Jack sighed, “but we need to move before nightfall.”
She nodded, the last few tears falling free. “Are we going to be okay?”
Jack mustered a more genuine smile. He squeezed her shoulder and then unashamedly pulled her against him, the embrace unexpectedly tender. “Yes, we’re going to be okay.” He said, “Devon taught us a few things about surviving out here. We can do this, Megan. We just need to find somewhere we can fortify. Somewhere we can make safe. We’re going to be okay.”
She buried her head against his shoulder, falling into the hug whilst swallowing the sobs before they overwhelmed her. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but with Devon, things had been different. They’d gone on the offensive, actively seeking out the vampires. Devon had been their best chance of survival. He knew what made the vampires tick, knew how to manipulate them. He had taught her all the tricks, how to lure them in by turning their hyper-alert senses against them and using fresh blood to distract them. Without him, she was at a loss, on the run once again. How could she protect the group knowing how slim their chances were. Devon had inferred as much on several occasions. He’d tried to sidestep around the hard truth of it, but they both knew the chances of surviving out here were slim at best. Without someone as skilled as Devon, it was just a matter of time before the rogues picked them off. They would need to keep moving; stick with Devon’s plan; find somewhere safe to hole up or another pocket of resistance like the one they had fled, otherwise they were as good as dead.
Jack stood back and searched her tear stained face. “We need you Megan, don’t lose it now.”
She nodded, not ready to speak. She knew what she had to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. She was the strong one. The fighter. The optimist. It wasn’t a role she had asked for, but she had slipped in to. But right now, she couldn’t bring herself to rally them. She’d failed Graham and Devon, and it was all on her. Jack, David, Emma, they looked to her for what to do next and she had no idea.
“Will you talk to Emma?”
“Yeah.” Megan nodded. “Give me a minute, okay.” She let Jack leave, giving him what she hoped was a brave smile as he glanced back at her before he headed back to the others.
Emma… how could she look Emma in the eye and tell her what had happened to Graham, how the father of Emma’s unborn child had screwed up, made one simple mistake and it had cost him his life and the life of the best damn hunter Megan had ever known. It might yet cost them their lives.
This is 1st draft, so it hasn't been through any edits. I do hope it's not too much of a slog!
The reader has met Megan before, but not Jack. So I'm keen to know what your impression of him is.
Setting is post-apoc, the reader is well aware of that at this point in the story. However, this scene does happen quite early on, so I'm still trickling in some world building at this stage. Think Walking Dead but with vampires.
(Hides behind sofa) Go for it...
~~~
Megan perched on the step of a rusted old train carriage, knees drawn up as she watched the sun rise. Beneath the platform canopy behind the carriage, Jack and the others huddled around a small campfire, sheltering amongst the ruins of what must have once been a bustling railway station.
The train yard opened out to the east, where the rising sun had begun to bleed the sky red, casting a burnt orange hue over scattered remains of the town they had fled the night before.
She watched for signs of the two men she had left behind, hoping she might see them shuffling up the tracks towards them, but as the minutes turned into hours, she began to realise they weren’t coming.
The murmurs of the group drifted to her on the breeze, an occasional sob rising above the whispers. Megan’s chest tightened, anxiety and guilt leeching outward. She knew what they were discussing. They had left Graham and Devon behind and it was her fault. It had been the right thing to do, but that didn’t stop it from feeling so wrong. Her gut told her she should have stayed, should have tried something. Anything. But she ran. She had heard Devon’s howl of pain and still she had fled. How could she live with that?
Jack approached, hands tucked deep into the pockets of his wrinkled wax jacket. His smile fell short of meaningful, tired eyes pinched with worry.
“Are you alright?” he asked, lifting his cap and rubbing a hand across his forehead.
She dared not speak, not trusting her voice. Instead she shook her head, swiping a few stray tears off her cheek.
She tried to be brave, but there was something about Jack that spoke directly to the little girl cowering inside her. His skin weathered by the harsh outdoor life, grizzled hair splayed out beneath the grubby cap he rarely removed, he reminded her of her father, what little she could remember of him. It wasn’t so much his appearance, but the way he always seemed to be there, offering support, even when she screwed up.
“You did the right thing.” He assured.
Megan turned her head away. His kind words choked her, wrenching a few sobs free.
“You know,” she whispered, hoping to hide the depth of her grief, “We never thanked him. He didn’t know us. He could have left us all for dead. He saved us, Jack. Every day he stayed, he saved us... and not once did we thank him.”
Jack leant a shoulder against the carriage, brushing flakes of rust off his coat. His silence confirmed Megan’s thoughts. Jack hadn’t liked Devon, most of them hadn’t. Devon hadn’t made it easy for them to get to know him, but they couldn’t deny the fact he had saved their lives. They wouldn’t miss him though and that hurt her even more. He didn’t deserve to be forgotten.
“Listen, Megan,” Jack said, “They need you.” He lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting company. “The others need someone strong. They can’t see you like this. I can’t give them what they want to hear, I’m no good at all that… talk. You need to put it behind you. Whatever you saw, whatever happened, get over it.”
She glared at him. How could he say that, didn’t he care at all about Graham, about Devon. “He had a family you know, once.” She said. Jack frowned, whether he knew about Devon’s family or not, she couldn’t be sure, but her words appeared to strike a nerve in him. “He wouldn’t talk about it.”
“We all had families once.”
Megan often forgot that Jack had been alive when the world had been a very different place. She only knew the desolation, but he had lived in a world bustling with life, where millions of people mingled in cities, where the towns shone bright at night, streetlights and houses lit up, their glow painting the night sky orange with light pollution. A world with a constant supply of electricity, where every house buzzed with technology and rivers of cars flowed back and forth along the now deserted roads. She could only imagine what it had been like to be cushioned by such a world. He didn’t like to talk about it, as was so often the case with anyone that remembered the time before the virus had ravaged modern civilisation. She knew very little about his family, his life before, and couldn’t remember much of her own early years. He was right though, everyone had lost family.
“Megan,” Jack met her wide-eyed stare, his gaze softer than before. “You need to forget Devon. We’re grateful for what he did, of course we are, but he had it coming. Nobody can take the risks he did and survive for long.”
Anger flashed inside her, snuffing out the guilt. “He died because of us, you get that right?”
Jack lifted a hand defensively. “We hardly knew him. Forget him. It’s not Devon you should be thinking about, it’s Emma. She’s in pieces back there. You’ve got to talk to her.”
Mention of Emma sent a fresh heart-wrenching wave of grief through her. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can.”
Megan shook her head, her reply catching in her throat. “They could be alive…” Even as she said it, she knew it was a false hope. She had heard the screams, knew the odds of surviving an ambush like that were slim and yet she had seen Devon slaughter rogue vampires without so much as breaking a sweat. He had lived to hunt them, almost as though he enjoyed it. His ruthless tactics had scared the others, but Megan had seen in him what they needed to do to survive. If anyone could get out of an ambush alive, it was Devon.
“We could go back…” She looked hopefully at Jack, but the resignation on his face dashed any hope she had left.
“We’ll give them a few hours,” Jack sighed, “but we need to move before nightfall.”
She nodded, the last few tears falling free. “Are we going to be okay?”
Jack mustered a more genuine smile. He squeezed her shoulder and then unashamedly pulled her against him, the embrace unexpectedly tender. “Yes, we’re going to be okay.” He said, “Devon taught us a few things about surviving out here. We can do this, Megan. We just need to find somewhere we can fortify. Somewhere we can make safe. We’re going to be okay.”
She buried her head against his shoulder, falling into the hug whilst swallowing the sobs before they overwhelmed her. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but with Devon, things had been different. They’d gone on the offensive, actively seeking out the vampires. Devon had been their best chance of survival. He knew what made the vampires tick, knew how to manipulate them. He had taught her all the tricks, how to lure them in by turning their hyper-alert senses against them and using fresh blood to distract them. Without him, she was at a loss, on the run once again. How could she protect the group knowing how slim their chances were. Devon had inferred as much on several occasions. He’d tried to sidestep around the hard truth of it, but they both knew the chances of surviving out here were slim at best. Without someone as skilled as Devon, it was just a matter of time before the rogues picked them off. They would need to keep moving; stick with Devon’s plan; find somewhere safe to hole up or another pocket of resistance like the one they had fled, otherwise they were as good as dead.
Jack stood back and searched her tear stained face. “We need you Megan, don’t lose it now.”
She nodded, not ready to speak. She knew what she had to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. She was the strong one. The fighter. The optimist. It wasn’t a role she had asked for, but she had slipped in to. But right now, she couldn’t bring herself to rally them. She’d failed Graham and Devon, and it was all on her. Jack, David, Emma, they looked to her for what to do next and she had no idea.
“Will you talk to Emma?”
“Yeah.” Megan nodded. “Give me a minute, okay.” She let Jack leave, giving him what she hoped was a brave smile as he glanced back at her before he headed back to the others.
Emma… how could she look Emma in the eye and tell her what had happened to Graham, how the father of Emma’s unborn child had screwed up, made one simple mistake and it had cost him his life and the life of the best damn hunter Megan had ever known. It might yet cost them their lives.
