writerDarkly
Virgin
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2017
- Posts
- 7
Here's my first post.
Here's what the story is about, and what I'm looking for: http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=88170644&postcount=719
PM if interested!
The Virus had started in Japan, of all places. As if all those ridiculous godzilla and giant robot movies had been a sign to humanity that, ultimately, a beast would arise from this sliver of land on the ass-end of the planet and leave humanity in ravages. This “beast” toppled governments, destroyed infrastructure, and reduced civilization to something that ached to be a shadow of its past glory. The walking dead - and thank God they only walked - had let live only the brutal, the lucky and…
…Jack Driver.
At least that was how Jack saw it.
Jack sat in his fortress, his very own New York City block, on the top floor of an eighteen story office building, looking down at the street through floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the south side of the walls.
To pass the time, and help preserve a modicum of sanity, Jack found it useful to have far-fetched conversations with himself. The current conversation was between himself, a guest on the Late Night Show after civilization had been re-established, and the host of the show, Dave.
“You’ve lead many lives, Jack,
Yes. I have.” Jack nodded, his eyes now looking, but not really watching, the street below.
“You grew up in a rough part of town, and made a name for yourself in cleaning up your part of the projects.”
Jack nodded, “Mmhm, that’s right.”
“You managed to get a full scholarship in an Ivy league school, double majored in history and philosophy but then decided to… go to the military.
Mmhm.” Judging by the host’s tone of voice, he found that amusing - it got a chuckle from the audience. On the show, Jack smiled.
“But then after a few years you decided to go back to school, do a PhD in physics? And you taught for several years. What’s going on here!?”
The audience laughed, so did Jack. Dave had spoken with him before the cameras had started rolling, in the green room. He was getting to the point soon enough.
“And then, The Virus.” The host’s tone dropped. The crowd became still.
“You, survived the fall of civilization itself. And became the de facto ‘mayor’ of the largest post-apocalyptic sub-section of New York City, keeping hundreds of healthy people safe from the walking dead, the mob bosses, and all the other random criminal, desperate people that filled the world in those days.”
Jack looked down to the floor. Now wasn’t the time to nod one’s head. It was the time to be humble.
“Jack. Everyone here wants to know: What makes Jack Driver tick?”
A sudden THUD-WHACK from the floor below. Jack’s day-dreaming came to a screeching halt. He dropped to the floor, placing his ear to the ground. No more sounds. His trap had worked. One less of the undead to deal with on the seventeenth floor. The seventeenth floor connected to another building via a suspended corridor that crossed the street below. Jack hadn’t cleaned out the other building fully yet, but he didn’t need to today. That would happen eventually. For now, he had set enough traps on his side so that if any lurkers stumbled into his home they’d be done for. The more that happened, the less he’d have to dispatch himself in the ensuing days.
Jack had accumulated enough food, weapons and medical supplies to last him half a year.
“Don’t ask me how I got them, Dave.” He mumbled to himself as he resumed his seat by the glass wall. He watched the street now. Every so often a gang or gaggle of people would attempt to “surreptitiously” storm his fortress. But Jack never let that disturb him. They couldn’t get far. And they certainly couldn’t get around all of his traps, let alone himself, to reach the bowels of his stronghold and take those supplies.
“Where were we? Ah yes-“
A glint of light from the neighboring building caught Jack’s eye. Across the street, in another glass office building that faced his block, he saw the shadow of… a woman? standing by the window. He wasn’t sure, but he was almost positive she was starting right at him. Jack slipped his rifle off his back and peered through the scope. Gone.
A woman? On her own? Here?
“She’s fucked, no pun intended.”
But something told Jack to be careful. Her quick movement away from the window indicated she wasn’t hurt. And that she was indeed watching him. And that she may have known to look for him o the top floor of his eighteen floor fortress. She was going to come after his supplies.
“Ah, let her come. She’ll make a good walker.”
Here's what the story is about, and what I'm looking for: http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=88170644&postcount=719
PM if interested!
The Virus had started in Japan, of all places. As if all those ridiculous godzilla and giant robot movies had been a sign to humanity that, ultimately, a beast would arise from this sliver of land on the ass-end of the planet and leave humanity in ravages. This “beast” toppled governments, destroyed infrastructure, and reduced civilization to something that ached to be a shadow of its past glory. The walking dead - and thank God they only walked - had let live only the brutal, the lucky and…
…Jack Driver.
At least that was how Jack saw it.
Jack sat in his fortress, his very own New York City block, on the top floor of an eighteen story office building, looking down at the street through floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the south side of the walls.
To pass the time, and help preserve a modicum of sanity, Jack found it useful to have far-fetched conversations with himself. The current conversation was between himself, a guest on the Late Night Show after civilization had been re-established, and the host of the show, Dave.
“You’ve lead many lives, Jack,
Yes. I have.” Jack nodded, his eyes now looking, but not really watching, the street below.
“You grew up in a rough part of town, and made a name for yourself in cleaning up your part of the projects.”
Jack nodded, “Mmhm, that’s right.”
“You managed to get a full scholarship in an Ivy league school, double majored in history and philosophy but then decided to… go to the military.
Mmhm.” Judging by the host’s tone of voice, he found that amusing - it got a chuckle from the audience. On the show, Jack smiled.
“But then after a few years you decided to go back to school, do a PhD in physics? And you taught for several years. What’s going on here!?”
The audience laughed, so did Jack. Dave had spoken with him before the cameras had started rolling, in the green room. He was getting to the point soon enough.
“And then, The Virus.” The host’s tone dropped. The crowd became still.
“You, survived the fall of civilization itself. And became the de facto ‘mayor’ of the largest post-apocalyptic sub-section of New York City, keeping hundreds of healthy people safe from the walking dead, the mob bosses, and all the other random criminal, desperate people that filled the world in those days.”
Jack looked down to the floor. Now wasn’t the time to nod one’s head. It was the time to be humble.
“Jack. Everyone here wants to know: What makes Jack Driver tick?”
A sudden THUD-WHACK from the floor below. Jack’s day-dreaming came to a screeching halt. He dropped to the floor, placing his ear to the ground. No more sounds. His trap had worked. One less of the undead to deal with on the seventeenth floor. The seventeenth floor connected to another building via a suspended corridor that crossed the street below. Jack hadn’t cleaned out the other building fully yet, but he didn’t need to today. That would happen eventually. For now, he had set enough traps on his side so that if any lurkers stumbled into his home they’d be done for. The more that happened, the less he’d have to dispatch himself in the ensuing days.
Jack had accumulated enough food, weapons and medical supplies to last him half a year.
“Don’t ask me how I got them, Dave.” He mumbled to himself as he resumed his seat by the glass wall. He watched the street now. Every so often a gang or gaggle of people would attempt to “surreptitiously” storm his fortress. But Jack never let that disturb him. They couldn’t get far. And they certainly couldn’t get around all of his traps, let alone himself, to reach the bowels of his stronghold and take those supplies.
“Where were we? Ah yes-“
A glint of light from the neighboring building caught Jack’s eye. Across the street, in another glass office building that faced his block, he saw the shadow of… a woman? standing by the window. He wasn’t sure, but he was almost positive she was starting right at him. Jack slipped his rifle off his back and peered through the scope. Gone.
A woman? On her own? Here?
“She’s fucked, no pun intended.”
But something told Jack to be careful. Her quick movement away from the window indicated she wasn’t hurt. And that she was indeed watching him. And that she may have known to look for him o the top floor of his eighteen floor fortress. She was going to come after his supplies.
“Ah, let her come. She’ll make a good walker.”
