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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Thu Feb 02, 2017 8:29 pm

bacpacker1513 wrote:Ci, I would never guessed that Dan was just a recent addition. That segment flowed well. I look forward to further bits of work. you have the makings of a good tale.


Really (i.e. Dan a new addition)?

Thank you. Here I have been hemming and hawing over a character I just made up over the past two days.

The others have a lot more time, effort and thought into them to flesh them out so to speak.

Your observations makes me feel I have not let you down as to the quality, which I feel is most important to a story.

Still, I have no idea where Dan is going to go.

Is that not odd?
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Re: The Fall

Postby IceFire » Thu Feb 02, 2017 8:36 pm

Not really...sometimes, the characters take on a mind and life of their own, and the best you can do is try to keep up with them!
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Re: The Fall

Postby bacpacker1513 » Thu Feb 02, 2017 9:08 pm

However you came up with it, I like it.
Greater Love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for a friend.
John 15:13
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Re: The Fall

Postby DR1VENbyKNOWLEDGE » Fri Feb 03, 2017 10:47 am

Cast Iron wrote:
bacpacker1513 wrote:Ci, I would never guessed that Dan was just a recent addition. That segment flowed well. I look forward to further bits of work. you have the makings of a good tale.


Really (i.e. Dan a new addition)?

Thank you. Here I have been hemming and hawing over a character I just made up over the past two days.

The others have a lot more time, effort and thought into them to flesh them out so to speak.

Your observations makes me feel I have not let you down as to the quality, which I feel is most important to a story.

Still, I have no idea where Dan is going to go.

Is that not odd?



yes, really...It's flowing.

it's not odd. some of the best characters/songs ever written come in a moment of clarity taking minutes to create. you'll always be hyper-critical of any work you create....It's developing great.

Any disconnected feel you have you can always go back and smooth the edges of transition if you think it needs it.

There is ZERO wrong with profiting from your work...Think of it like this, the more people download it, the more they're thanking you for sharing your time and giving them a break from their reality. every single book I buy I see it the same way.

Amazon pays by the amount of pages actually read if in the Kindle Unlimited releases....If you don't continue reading a story for some reason, the author only gets paid a for that portion....the more pages read and additional books downloaded in a given series tell you as a writer if people are REALLY appreciative of your work....it's great constructive feedback for you, the author as well.

Again, well done. :thumbup:
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 03, 2017 11:06 am

Dan awoke early, a few stars still shown through the tree tops high above. The sky appeared lighter in one direction, he assumed was East. Slowly he stood up, working out the kinks. The gauze did not move when he put his boots on, but he would have to lace them up not quite as tight as he would like. He put away the tarp, and put on his light weight jacket.
Ever so slowly, more for his feet than trying to stay quiet, he made his way back the direction he came.
The trees ahead thinned and he could see where the road was.
The sound of snoring stopped him dead in mid step. He listened harder. There it was again, the definitive sound of someone snoring.
And hard.
Dan almost laughed. But it meant someone stayed out all night looking for him, or set up a trap. He backed up several feet and slowly followed parallel to the road, the snoring fading behind him.
The cross road surprised him. To the right, the main road he took to his parents. The cross road went West. He sighed and pulled off his pack, got out the GPS.
It was an older model, the maps not up to date. He meant to use it for hiking, a hobby he swore he would take up once he got the GPS. He used it once.
The map location icon displayed just outside of his house in his neighborhood, a good ten, maybe fifteen miles behind or so he thought. He pressed the minus button three times, and then scrolled up, trying to follow his progress on the road.
Dan must have driven the route a few thousand times. And yet he never gave a second thought to roads, houses, or even the bridge he had to pay a toll to cross. It was all a blur to him, usually engrossed in a audio book or some podcast to pass the time as he drove to his parents.
He moved up a few more feet to get a better view of where the cross road and the main road intersected, looking for a road sign. Nothing.
The snoring man was still only a hundred yards or more behind him. The sky grew lighter. Dan scrolled a few more times, trying to determine how far he had traveled. He found a cross road that seemed to be about where he should be. It formed a U, reconnecting to the main road a ways further North. Dan decided to take the cross road and went West.

After hiking for an hour and a half, Dan decided he was not on the road he thought he was. Even with his blister reducing pace, the road should of turned North by now, but it continued West. He was seriously contemplating going back when the sound of gun fire from more than one weapon coming from the direction of the main road stopped that train of thought. The shooting in the distance continued for several minutes. It did not matter as Dan did not care as long as it was happening behind him.
West it was.
He munched on a second power bar, took a few sips of water for breakfast as he continued his plodding pace. This road was lined with deeps woods on either side. He could not say if that made him feel more secure or less. Someone could be watching for someone to come down the road and ambush him. Or if he heard someone coming he could get off the road and into the woods quickly. Dan found himself glancing over his shoulder more only to find empty road.
The sudden appearance of a driveway surprised him. Clearly no one had done any lawncare in sometime, the drive nearly blending in with the side road grass and weeds that were coming up. He carefully glanced to see a single wide mobile home. No one was moving outside. No sounds. He thought he caught the smell of smoke but it was so fleeting it was gone immediately. His feet were in no condition for another sprint, so he crouched down as low as he risked and did a half run, half crawl past the drive and kept it up for a dozen or so yards once past the mobile home. He straighten up and walked a little faster his blisters be (APN bad word edit).

The afternoon the sun was out and warmed up considerably. Dan removed his light jacket, but was still damp under his arms, his back, and even a light sheen of sweat on his brow. The pack was light, but after a few days, it seemed heavier today. Taking a sip of water, he noticed it required more effort. He got off the road, found a old, gray weathered tree stump to sit on while he took inventory of his supplies. One zip lock sandwhich full of trail mix, two power bars, and three MREs. His water was a little over half a liter left. Dan had not seen any readily available water since the encounter with the man shooting at him, and the snorer. He needed to find some soon.
Repacking everything, taking a handful of trail mix, Dan continued on, but kept a eye out for a source of water.
A few hours later the sun sinking towards the horizon, Dan decided to call it a day, and make camp in the woods. Tonight he wanted a fire. It was a risk, one he felt worth taking. He wanted to be warm. Finding what he felt was the right spot took sometime, but he set up his little camp and went about building a small shelter for the fire. He had no problem getting it started as he noted it seemed rather dry in this area. Still no sign of water either.
Removing his boots, changing his blisters bandages, there was no indication of infection and they appeared to be healing. The newly forming skin was tender though. Propping up his feet on his pack before the fire, sat back and opened a MRE. He opted not to use any water for the included heater to make a hot meal. The MRE in his pack, against his back all day was warm enough to make do. He watched the fire as he ate, the afternoon sun faded into twilight, and dusk approached. Tonights camp allowed him to see more stars then the previous night. Last night seemed like such a long time ago. The stars, the fire, food in his stomach, he actually felt better than he had in . . . he did not know how long.
He had to pull his feet back as they were becoming uncomfortably warm. He changed position to lay more along side the fire to warm the rest of him. He put his wool socks up on a stick to warm them. MRE finished, he gently pulled the now warm socks on his feet, pulled on his jacket and wrapped himself up in the tarp, and fell easily asleep.
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 03, 2017 11:08 am

IceFire wrote:Not really...sometimes, the characters take on a mind and life of their own, and the best you can do is try to keep up with them!


Well said Ice. I will keep at it.

Thank you.
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 03, 2017 11:09 am

bacpacker1513 wrote:However you came up with it, I like it.


Glad you like it.
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 03, 2017 11:10 am

DR1VENbyKNOWLEDGE wrote:
Cast Iron wrote:
bacpacker1513 wrote:Ci, I would never guessed that Dan was just a recent addition. That segment flowed well. I look forward to further bits of work. you have the makings of a good tale.


Really (i.e. Dan a new addition)?

Thank you. Here I have been hemming and hawing over a character I just made up over the past two days.

The others have a lot more time, effort and thought into them to flesh them out so to speak.

Your observations makes me feel I have not let you down as to the quality, which I feel is most important to a story.

Still, I have no idea where Dan is going to go.

Is that not odd?



yes, really...It's flowing.

it's not odd. some of the best characters/songs ever written come in a moment of clarity taking minutes to create. you'll always be hyper-critical of any work you create....It's developing great.

Any disconnected feel you have you can always go back and smooth the edges of transition if you think it needs it.

There is ZERO wrong with profiting from your work...Think of it like this, the more people download it, the more they're thanking you for sharing your time and giving them a break from their reality. every single book I buy I see it the same way.

Amazon pays by the amount of pages actually read if in the Kindle Unlimited releases....If you don't continue reading a story for some reason, the author only gets paid a for that portion....the more pages read and additional books downloaded in a given series tell you as a writer if people are REALLY appreciative of your work....it's great constructive feedback for you, the author as well.

Again, well done. :thumbup:


I did not know that about Kindle. Good to know and thank you for the information.
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 10, 2017 11:45 am

Dan awoke early again, and seemed to be falling into a regular pattern, not that he minded. His water gone, he was going to miss even the gym locker like instant coffee from his MREs. Water was going to be his priority today.
He set out, noting the clear sky, a warm breeze, for a spring day it might get warm.
A few hours later, he found out how accurate his observation was. He put away his light jacket. His ball cap kept the sun off his head, but he was still freely sweating. And he was thirsty. It was all he could think about. He was amazed at how far even a 3L water bladder did not get him.
Dan cleared a small rise in the road when he saw what appeared to be a man in a ditch, swinging a pick ax. Dan slowed his pace to remain quiet, but the man was clearly engrossed in his work. Once, the man stopped and seemed to be contemplating something. Dan stopped too. He was almost on top of the man in the ditch. Once the man resumed his work, Dan actually walked quickly, quietly past to get to the higher side of the road, thinking it would give him a tactical advantage. Dan shouldered his AR15, took a few steeps closer and said in his best commanding voice,
“Dont move!”
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 10, 2017 11:48 am

The man finished his story, shrugged, and said,
“So, here we are.”
“Here we are indeed,” Jack replied. While he thought, Jack refilled the mans empty glass, topped himself off, and offered more to his wife.
“I had some earlier,” she declined.
The trees around them swayed, their new leaves fluttered in the warm breeze. Birds flew around them. The smell of spring was in the air.
“There is still some semblance of civilization,” Jack said to his wife.
“The bridge? Yes. But is that the exception or the rule? He was also attacked by total strangers on the road. What do you think,” she asked the man.
He took a long pull from the glass, set it down and paused for a moment.
“Things are bad,” he started. “All around. Some have resorted to shoot first ask questions later. Others are trying to hold on to civilization.” He paused. “The people at the bridge could have just as easily of shot me, taken my things, and dumped my body without a second thought, but they didn't. He shook my hand and wish me luck. I have thought about that more than a few times.” He glanced into his glass, looking for an answer.
Jack interrupted the pregnant pause,
“So! You promise not to do anything stupid,” and offered the man his hand. The man looked surprised, but took Jack's hand.
“Jack. This is my wife Jess,” Jack nodded his head toward his wife.
“Dan,” Dan responded, shaking Jack's hand and nodded to Jess.
“Ok, so where are your parents place,” Jack asked as he took the GPS back out of Dan's pack.
“It is about time for lunch,” Jess said as she put the shotgun on safe and slung it over her shoulder. “You want to eat out here?”
“Sure, it is nice out, why not,” Jack replied. Jess walked into the house.
The GPS powered up, Jack pressed a few of the buttons until he found what he was looking for.
“Dan,” he started, “Are quite a bit further Northwest than you thought.”
“I am?”
“Yep. You must have one heck of a pace, my new friend. Here, this is where you are in comparison to where your house is,” Jack passed the GPS to Dan and pointed the two locations on the screen.
“And here,” Jack took the GPS back, pressing a few more buttons, then showed Dan again, “Is where you are now, and where your parents place is. You have to go due East, then South to get to them.”
Dan considered the map for a moment.
“I will be coming in on the road I usually take to my parents, but from the North rather than the South if I did not have my little detour.”
“Right. After lunch we will go up to the town hall and see about getting you a pass. You will need to to go North a few miles, the pick up this road,” Jack pressed another button showing Dan the screen, “Go East, then pick up this road and that will take you South, into your parents town. Normally I would say four days, but at your pace, three easy.”
“What is this pass?”
“I will vouch you are a good guy, and let you transverse our territory without being harassed. The patrols will also know about you and let you pass unmolested.”
“How far does your territory go?”
Jack leaned back, “I am not going to lie, that is a little fuzzy. For the most part, we have established borders, but they can be contentious. The adjacent communities will respect our passes . . . most of the time. Other times, not so much. Relations have been good as of late, so I do not anticipate problems.”
Dan did not look convinced. But it was, what it was.
Jess came back to the picnic table with two large plates, set them down, and took a seat next to Jack.
Dan's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
“Oh. My. God. Real food.” He looked up in wonder.
Jess smiled in pride, “Hardboiled eggs, bread, cheese, carrots and left over pork from last night. Do not be shy, dig in,” she smiled.
“Thank you,” and Dan popped an entire egg into his mouth.

An hour later, Jack and Dan walked out of the town hall, Dan with a pass in his hand.
“Jack, I don't know what to say.”
“Thank you would be good. And all that is necessary. No,” Jack paused a moment. “And when you get to where you are going, find your parents, let everyone know there are pockets of civility out here. If we do not keep our civility, we are doomed as a species and have no right to survive.”
Dan offered Jack his hand, Jack took it.
“I will Jack. And thank your for the provisions.”
They shook again, Dan walked down the drive to the main road and turned North and started his trek again.
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 10, 2017 11:52 am

Up next, the tacti-cool chapter.
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 17, 2017 9:02 am

Dear reader,
Thank you for following along if you have thus far.
This edition is what I call the tacti-cool edition. So it may be a bit of a departure from previous entries.

Enjoy.


Jack and Tony dove for cover as rapid gunfire ripped into the trees and earth around them, spraying them with tree bark and dirt.
The sound was nearly deafening.
Luckily, Jack and Tony were wearing their Surefire EP3 Sonic Defender Ear Plugs.
They were out hunting for game, Jack with his Steyr Elite scout rifle, chambered in .308WIN, ten round extended magazine, topped with IOR-Valdada 2-6.75X36 Long Relief, First Focal Plane, Illuminated CQB-PK2 Mil super scout scope, and Ching Sling. Tony with his heavy bull barrel Ruger 10/22T, Magpul Hunter X-22 stock, Timney trigger, Volquartsen Stabilization air stripper, Bushnell Rimfire Optics Rifle Scope 3.5-10x 36mm Ballistic and 1/4 MOA Turret Dropzone 22 Reticle Matte scope and Lapua match grade ammo.
Jack picked up a fist sized smooth rock from the ground, and a stick. He broke the stick to size. More rounds impacted all around them, spraying them with more dirt.
“I am going to throw this,” Jack shouted over the gun fire. “When I tell you to run, you run down there,” Jack pointed, “As fast as you can, and get behind cover. You will have about five seconds, understand? If you can take a shot, take it! If not, run for the church!”
Tony nodded as dirt continued to rain down on him.
Jack tossed the rock and stick in classic military style.
They flew through the air and landed just behind the attackers, 50 yards distant.
Someone yelled, “Grenade!”
“Run!”
Tony ran the way Jack told him, while Jack ran the opposite direction.
While Tony was short, he held the high school 100 yard dash track record. He guessed he beat that record by a second as he jumped the last few feet behind a fallen log.
Jack ran in the opposite direction. Jack may have been tall and in very good shape, he had the disadvantage of running uphill. After what he figured to be about five seconds, he dove for cover, and immediately low crawled as fast as he could to a berm. He then low crawled further away from the ambush, getting more trees between him and his assailants. Jack found a good position behind some trees and waited.
After another long pause, the assailants figured out the ruse, they began firing again at a rapid rate at Jack and Tony's last position. But Jack and Tony's last position was a good forty yards from where Jack was now, just over a hundred yards for Tony. Bullets continued to impact harmlessly in the dirt, brush and trees.
Jack was able to take a stable sitting position, bringing his rifle up he could see between two trees, six assailants down in a depression. He rotated the power ring on the scope to the maximum of 6.75 power. He aimed at the assailant closest to Jack, the assailants left shoulder, neck, and helmet in clear view. He took two deep breaths, then a third, but held his breath at the end, and his trigger finger took up the slack of the trigger as he controlled the squeeze, when something happened at the other end of the assailants position that made him stop just before the hammer fell.

Tony was only armed with a .22LR rifle.
But Tony was a good shot with any rifle. And his 10/22 was a very good rifle.
The assailants resumed to tear up dirt, trees and brush, no where near where Tony was in rapid fire.
Over the fallen tree, Tony looked through his scope. He could see the right side of the closest assailant, his shoulder, rifle, his helmet. The assailant was wearing some kind of coyote tan chest rig, multi-cam uniform but a plain grey helmet.
Tony was debating taking the shot, when he noticed the closest three assailants, their helmets were nearly in line as they shot over the top of the depression. He backed the scope zoom power out so he could easily see all three of their helmets. He could not help but smile.
Using match grade, sub-sonic ammunition, the air stripper, and heavy nature of the match bull barrel, recoil was nearly non-existent. In quick succession, he took three well placed shots.
Without waiting around, he got up and ran for the church.

Through his scope, Jack saw his target suddenly turn and drop down.
It was muffled, but he could hear shouting.
Someone was hit . . . more than one . . . they took hits to their helmets. More shouting and confusion.
The assailant sat up enough Jack had a clear shot at his helmet. Jack took another deep breath, held it, squeezed the trigger and sent the bullet to its destination. In nearly one smooth motion, Jack cycled the bolt and loaded another round.
Jack knew if those were military issue Kevlar helmets, his shot would likely not penetrate.
However, glancing blow from a 170 grain bullet traveling at nearly 2700 feet per second at just over a hundred yards, would most certainly rattle the head inside the helmet, physically and mentally Jack hoped.
The assailant dropped lower into the depression after the bullet bounced off his helmet. Jack waited for about ten seconds, the silence was nearly deafening after all the gunfire.
The gun fire stopped, Jack could hear the church bell ringing rapidly. Somewhere not far away he heard the sound of emergency alert whistle blaring out three long calls with a brief pause between each blast. He heard another even further in the distance as each member of the community responded, passing the alert along. In a few minutes the whole community would be on alert if they were not already with all the gunfire. Those nearest who could respond would arrive at the church, with arms. Others who could not afford to join up with the militia at the church, would remain in their homes, assume a defensive posture, on watch and armed.
Those with radios passed the word along to others in the outlaying areas.
A few more moments passed, more whistles faded into the distance, when Jack had his answer; He did rattle the assailant mentally.
Suddenly three assailants stood nearly upright and fired rapidly, wildly in all directions, one shouting,
“Covering fire!”
The other two just yelled and fired wildly.
Jack noted the one who yelled “covering fire,” was the one he shot in the helmet, the bullet gouge easily seen in the helmet.
The other three got up and ran in the opposite direction of the covering fire.
Through the scope, Jack noted they all had magazine chest carrier rigs of various colors, some with desert tan uniforms, others with a urban multi-cam, and one with woodland camouflage. Some had elbow and knee pads. All wore some kind of military style boots, and wearing some kind of pack of equally different camouflage, by all appearances nearly full. Two of the retreating team ran thirty or so yards, took cover behind trees and took up positions ready to fire.
The third only got about ten feet, tripped and fell face first. He tried to get up, but stopped and rolled over, favoring his left arm.
Their magazines empty, the covering team dropped down behind cover. There was a long pause. Then someone shouted,
“What are you waiting for,” he shouted, “Fire!”
The two retreating team began to fire, the first team began their retreat but nearly ran into the covering fire.
Jack could see what he was now calling the leader of the group, the one he shot in the helmet, now screamed for cease fire three times. When the shots stopped, they resumed their retreat, the leader stopping to pick up their fallen comrade. Two of them ran past the others positions and kept going, the leader helping the injured, and hobbled past, yelling, “Go!”
They disappeared into the trees and brush.
Jack waited for thirty seconds, stood up, brushed himself off, and set out for a steady but careful jog toward the church.

It was Tuesday night, not an official town meeting, as those were on Wednesdays.
But the church was nearly full as if it was Wednesday night meeting. Everyone wanted to know what had happened first hand.
The town's six councilpersons sat at their folding plastic tables, in their folding chairs, on the dais, while other members of the community took seats in the pews, the thrum of conversation filled the church.
At the top of the hour, councilperson Kathy Anderson rapped the gavel twice to call the meeting to order.
“Thank you everyone for coming,” she started. “I know this is not a normal meeting but we all agree,” she motioned to the other councilpersons, “It was necessary. Sheriff Nelson, would you brief us all on what happened?”
The sheriff walked up to the dais and turn and spoke to everyone.
“It appears six armed men had penetrated deep into our community and launched an attack on Jack and Tony.”
“How did they get past our patrols,” someone shouted out. More than a few grumbled in agreement.
The sheriff held out his hands for quiet.
“From what we can tell, they came in cross country during the night, avoiding the roads and our patrols.”
“Were they military,” someone else shouted.
At this point in time, Jack stood up to help the sheriff.
“One of them may have been,” he thought of the one whose helmet he glanced a shot off of. “The rest had no formal military training.” Jack pressed on before anyone could shout out any additional questions. “They did not have any small team tactics, they shot wildly, they lacked discipline. Their equipment was a mix of gear, and camouflage. I think Tony and I stumbled on a bunch of civilians lead by someone with prior military experience, or someone who watched a lot of war movies.”
A nervous laughter passed through the crowed at the remark. The tension seemed to ease up a bit in the church.
“I have to agree with Jack,” Sam announced as he stood up. Sam was a amateur astronomer, and the towns unofficial weather man. His exactness for numbers and statistics was legendary.
“We recovered five hundred and sixty three rounds of spent brass at the ambush site. I am sure we missed some. All had commercial, 223REM head stamps.”
A few people, including Jack whistled at that bit of news.
“Five hundred rounds per a six man team is a lot of ammunition to burn through,” Jack commented on.
“Five hundred and sixty three. How much was each man carrying,” Sam asked Jack.
Jack shrugged, “The chest rigs I saw were of at least two, maybe three different manufactures. Some chest rigs can carry as few as three thirty round magazines, others up to eight thirty round magazines. I have seen one carrying twelve.”
Sam considered it for a moment.
“Let us say they carried eight per person. That would be 1,440 total. And we found about five hundred and sixty three, lets say closer to six hundred for the ones we missed. Forty two percent, give or take a percent.”
Jack could not help but smile at Sam's exactness. “Two engagements like the one we had today and they would be nearly out of ammunition.”
“That is not all,” Sam continued, “They left twenty of these behind.” Sam held up something, made a ready to catch gesture to Jack, and tossed it across the three pews.
Jack caught a flat desert tan Magpul magazine.
“What is it, Jack,” Kathy asked.
“It is a aftermarket magazine. High quality. Not cheap. Unless they have a large supply of these magazines wherever their base is, they will likely run out of magazines before they run out of ammunition. Run out of these and a semi-automatic rifle becomes a single shot.” Jack finished.
“Correct,” Sam said simply and sat down.
The Sheriff continued, “We sent out additional patrols. Found some boot prints leading to the main road. Cherrel Bogantz says she thought she saw some strange looking men rushing down the East road but could not be sure. She was busy chasing after George again,” sheriff Nelson added. The whole church let out a roll of laughter, as Cherrel's wayward goat was famous for her escape artist antics. “We are looking for volunteers for additional night patrols and two LP/Ops.”
Twelve hands went up. The Sheriff smiled.
“Get with me after the meeting and we will talk assignments.”
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Re: The Fall

Postby NJMike » Fri Feb 17, 2017 10:02 am

I've been enjoying your storyline. I have to admit you almost lost me in the paragraph of the above with all the tacti-cool brand placement...lol. I liked the direction it ultimately went in though.

Thanks for posting! :thumbup:
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Re: The Fall

Postby Cast Iron » Fri Feb 17, 2017 10:15 am

NJMike wrote:I've been enjoying your storyline. I have to admit you almost lost me in the paragraph of the above with all the tacti-cool brand placement...lol. I liked the direction it ultimately went in though.

Thanks for posting! :thumbup:


Thank you NJMike.

The brand placement was a not so subtle hint toward the Rawles types with lists and lists of tacti-cool gear that adds nothing to the story whatsoever, other than look how cool I am.
No mind bending, Hollywood, behind the back, over the shoulder, every shot is between the eyes stuff.
However, I do own the Ruger 10/22T, with the air stripper. Different stock, and scope though.

Thank you again.
Beware of the guy with only one Cast Iron pan . . . he likely knows how to use it.
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Re: The Fall

Postby bacpacker1513 » Fri Feb 17, 2017 9:28 pm

Thanks for the update. I like the new line of tale.
Greater Love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for a friend.
John 15:13
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