Iron Infestation - A Generation Zero story

What is the name of the main character?

I have not given the protagonist a name, and not even a gender, actually. You are free to imagine him/her as you wish. :blush:

Well, the protagonist did feel embarrassed at seeing Frida naked, and “it” was making out with her…

Sooo…

In my own head, the protagonist is obviously a man. :slight_smile:
However, I have not written anything to make it impossible for him to be a “she”.

I can say 100% honestly, though, that I have never imagined a name for him.
Kinda strange now that I think about it. :thinking:

Just google Swedish boy names LOL

:wink:

I also decided to make a story. Rise of the Resistance

I enjoy feedback and appreciate constructive criticism. I also like it when someone posts their predictions for the plot.

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I’m norwegian, I can think of some. :+1:
However, the swedes do have a few unique names that norwegians and danes don’t normally use.
Like Pontus, for example. :wink:

Hey, I’ll give your story a read once I find the time. Things are a little hectic right now. :blush::+1:

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My girlfriend and I have really enjoyed your story. Hope to read more soon!

Thanks. Glad to hear your GF likes it too. :blush:
If my wife knew I was writing a story about a video game, she’d say I was even crazier than she already thinks I am… :crazy_face:

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Writing a fanfiction isn’t that crazy. It is a upcoming genre and there where many fanfictions written. The most prominent is the resident evil. Some of the fanfictions are endet in a film. So what is crazy on this ?

You’re forgetting one thing: She is a woman. They can say whatever they want. They also don’t usually care for video games. I know my mom didn’t, she let me know that. :unamused:

My girlfriend does play video games, but most women prefer shopping or other things. Maybe his wife would just prefer it if he wrote a story that was 100% from his own head instead of basing it off a game.

But, then again, it is usually a good idea to have your first book based off someone else’s creation to let you get the hang of writing. :thinking:

I dunno, it is just my opinion.

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My woman plays also video games but not GZ. She loves to play a game on her Smartphone hidden objects and so on. She answers my questions when i write a special scene. E.g. when i create dialogs between two characters e.g a man and a female. When i’m writing, my wife sits in the same room watches TV or play games. The only thing she’s complaining about is that i didn’t talk any word sometimes for hours, but she knew what i’m writing. She knows when i’m writing a battle scene than the keyboard is rattling. It sounds rather choppy when i write dialogues. It can be inspiring placing a story into a games world.

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Dialogue in my story has been the most annoying part of it. Otherwise it has been fun to write. I just hate having to leave all the ," everytime I want someone to say even the smallest word.

Hehe, that sounds just like me. My keyboard is extra loud to begin with too.

Regular i use for Dialoges the Guillemets » « (Alt 0187 and Alt 0171) i have programmed the key with the > and < in MS WORD. When you hit the key you get the Guillements it is easier when you write a Dialog. Writing a perfect Dialog is not so easy but it let talk your Charakters and that is what can make a story very interresting.

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Chapter 6.

“Are you that tough, or is it just luck?” The man asked.

I was already half awake when he pulled me out of my slumber. I stared up at him from my bed, unsure if I had seen the elderly man before.

“What? Who are you?” I asked him back.

“Magnus is my name.” He replied and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for an answer.

I opened my mouth but couldn’t form an answer. I tried to rewind what had happened in my head but it was all a blur. I stared into my lap and shook my head. I heard a voice coming from the hallway. A blonde, middle aged woman with a pair of huge glasses pushed her way past the man and entered the room. My eyes lit up when I saw Frida following behind her. She sat down next to me and held my hand.

“I’m checking in on you, since you were unconscious and all for a while back there. Looks like you had some sleep to make up for as well. How is your leg feeling?” The woman inquired.

It didn’t dawn on me that I had been shot before she asked. I pulled aside the blanket covering my lap. My right thigh had a dark blue and yellow color. It felt sore and numb.

“Buckshot.” The woman said.

I tried to move my leg. It felt strange but seemed to work like it should.

“You got hit by four lead pellets. You can be glad that shot was fired from a distance. Your clothes took the brunt of the impact. No need for any stitches, but I gave you a sedative and cleaned your wounds. Just so you know, that’s gonna sting a lot more when it wears off.” The woman explained.

“It already does. I’m a bit confused, but… Who are you people?” I asked.

“Forgive me, I’m way ahead of myself.” She apologized.

“They were hiding at the shooting range when we arrived there. Luckily for you, Lina here is a doctor.” Frida explained.

“Yes, I’m Lina. I work as a doctor in Östervik. Magnus back there is my father.” The woman replied.

The man nodded.

“I see. Good to meet you. And… Thank you for patching me up. I’m in your debt.” I said politely.

“Don’t mention it. Feels good to do something useful for a change.” Lina answered, while tightening the band around her ponytail. “I’ll have another look at your wounds now.” She said, and turned on a small worklight.

I tried to get a look around the barely lit room. I was surprised to find out we were in a mechanical workshop, or a garage of some kind. I was lying on a makeshift bed in the workhall. There was a large, closed gate in the wall. On the floor was a ramp and a grease pit. Oil barrels, tires and various tools were stacked against the walls. In the inner corner there had been built a small office with windows facing the workhall. A couple candles were lit on the desk inside. The outward windows in the hall had been covered by black plastic bags and old carpets.

Magnus pulled out a worn office chair and sat down. From behind his jacket he unholstered a huge, shiny revolver and rested it on his lap. He brushed his big, grey mustache with his fingers, while observing Lina’s work.

“Frida, where are we? And where’s Anton?” I asked.

“Garphammar. Magnus owns this garage. There’s a maintenance shed up on the roof. Anton is there now, observing some machines that passed by. There’s a ladder and a hatch leading up, over there.” Frida replied.

“Ok, good. So where’s Garphammar, and how did we get here?” I asked back.

“Well, we first got you safely into the house at the shooting range, but the machines surrounded us. Magnus suggested we’d be safer here, so we decided to make a break for it. With a few improvised traps and distractions, we were able to shoot our way out of there. It’s not very far from the shooting range to this place.” She explained.

I stared her in the eyes. Frida understood what obvious question I had next.

“We managed to get you a ride.” She said, and looked over at Magnus.

“Odin carried you here.” Magnus grunted from the corner.

“Odin?” I asked, while imagining myself being flown across the sky in some norse god’s chariot.

“My horse.” He answered. “He was all I managed to save from my farm, a bit east of here, after those monsters had lit the whole place on fire. Eighteen cows were burned alive inside their pens, and my dog ran off to God knows where. I had driven to Östervik and picked up Lina, and we saw the black smoke rising as we retur…” Magnus suddenly paused.

I looked at him questioningly.

“I knew I’d seen you before!” He exclaimed. “You’re the one I almost ran over back there on the first day. You stepped in front of my car like a maniac! Small world, huh?” Magnus chuckled.

The elderly man that had offered me a ride quickly came to mind.

“I remember you now.” I said in a frail voice, struggling to speak suddenly.

I felt dizzy and nauseous. I began coughing. Frida sat up and grabbed my hand tighter.

“Dad, you two can catch up later. Go get some water, quickly!” Lina commanded her father.

“What’s wrong?” Frida asked nervously.

“I think it’s a reaction caused by the gas you were exposed to. It should wear off eventually. As for any potential long term effects, I really can’t say. But add this to exhaustion and trauma from the head wound and the gunshot, it’s no wonder you’ve been more or less blacked out since yesterday.” Lina explained, ”But seriously, you need to rest even more. Frida will be here by your side, right?”

Frida smiled and nodded while she helped me drink from a water bottle. Lina and Magnus began talking amongst themselves and walked back out the hallway to another room. A loud creak came from the ceiling. The hatch opened and Anton came climbing down the ladder. He was covered in snow. He shook it off his poncho as he pulled it off and hung it to dry over a stack of tires. Then he saw me looking at him.

“Hey, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” Anton asked cheerfully.

I attempted to find a funny metaphor to describe my condition, but my brain wouldn’t play along.

“Awful.” I replied. “I’m glad to see you’re safe, though.”

“Of course. You had quite a rough ride back there. I even thought we lost you for a moment. I’ve really never been so scared before.” Anton said, with a sorrowful tone in his voice.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I know the feeling.” I said, swallowing a lump in my throat.

“Don’t say sorry. It’s not your fault. You’re still with us!” Anton said as he wiped away a tear.

Frida interrupted.

“You should have seen that guy Magnus back there! He had you up on his horse with him, clutching your jacket so you wouldn’t fall off, while firing his revolver with the other hand!” She explained eagerly, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Whoa! Did I miss out on all this?” I replied.

“That old dude is a lot more than what meets the eye. It was like straight out of a movie! He aimed for the runners’ fuel cells, blasting them to scraps one by one. He never missed a shot!” Anton said.

Frida laughed and shook her head, still astonished by the ageing farmer, or gunslinger on horseback, as he was.

“After we fought our way out from the shooting range, we fortunately had our backs free all the way over here.” She said.

Magnus appeared in the doorway again, now dressed in outdoor clothes and tall rubber boots.

“Odin’s in the barn across the road. I’m heading over there to feed him. Will you watch my back from the roof, Anton?” He asked.

My brother nodded. He reluctantly pulled the wet, cold poncho over his head again. Slinging his AG5 over the shoulder, he quickly climbed back up the ladder, but stopped half way.

“Get some rest now. We’ll talk later about what to do next.” He said, before he climbed through the hatch.

I rested. The days passed slowly one by one, as my wounds gradually healed. I soon lost track of how long we had been here, and I had gradually lost sense of how long it had been since the machines first appeared. It seemed like so long ago. Nobody kept track of time anymore. Winter seemed to go on forever, and it had to be past new year by now. 1990. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the new decade would begin.

Our stay here turned out to be relatively comfortable, and seemingly safe. There was hardly any machine activity around the little town. What few, stray patrols passed through were easy to keep track of by keeping a lookout on the roof.

Next door to the garage was a grocery store that hadn’t been looted. Much of the food was spoiled weeks or even months ago, but there were enough candy, dry goods and canned food to last a few months. I thought we’d never find anything better than the bunker, yet this felt like the second jackpot in a row.

Some days I helped tend to Odin, Magnus’ beautiful dark bay stallion. He was stabled in the barn at a farm across the street. It had a water pump, and enough hay in store to feed him for months. Sometimes Frida would come along with me, and we would finally get some time alone. We told no one what we were doing together over there, but people had their ideas. Magnus in particular would sit there joking about it whenever we got back. Anton and Lina would laugh along.

We kept busy by fortifying the garage. In the back yard, someone had stored various building materials and a huge pile of sand. We used scavenged clothing to make sandbags, and stacked them against the doors and windows. We made defensive positions and strategic openings from where we could shoot from cover. Frida had rounded up every propane tank that could be found, and placed them along the streets in every direction. If we were surrounded, a few well placed shots to these tanks could hopefully help us even the odds quickly.

The remains of a destroyed military convoy on the edge of town helped supply us with a decent stockpile of ammunition, hand grenades, flares, and a good deal of medical supplies for Lina. We even found a silencer for my hunting rifle. Magnus used his workshop tools to make threads on my rifle barrel and got the silencer properly fitted. Every day from now, I would bring my rifle and conceal myself in the newly reinforced shed up on the garage’s flat roof. From there I would snipe runners and seekers from afar as they passed through the town’s outskirts.

We felt on top of the situation. Our position here had become very strong.

One evening, Frida was keeping lookout on the roof. Through the winter haze, what looked like a slight movement in the forest’s edge caught her attention. Something among the trees. She raised her binoculars to look for it, but it was gone. An eerie silence fell over the town. Frida felt uneasy. She carefully scanned the treeline a few times, and there, in the shadows among the pines it reappeared. The shape of a man, clad in white. His face was covered by a gray balaclava. Blood was splattered over his clothes. He was a ghost-like figure. A shade in the fading daylight. Frida’s blood froze in her veins. She could almost hear her own pulse. The man then leaned against one of the trees, staring into the sky. He appeared wounded, but also lost and confused. Suddenly he fell over sideways and came tumbling through the snow, down the slope toward the road. She quickly put the binoculars down and opened the hatch.

“Hey guys, there’s someone out there.” She said, trying to keep her voice down.

Magnus was working on something in the garage hall. He looked up at her.

“What are you saying? How many, and what are they doing?” He replied.

“No, no. A man just shambled out of the woods over on the western edge of town, wounded by the looks of it. He’s lying over there in the ditch right now.” Frida explained.

“Huh, that’s strange… Well, let’s not waste any time. We’ll bring him in.” Magnus said firmly.

He called me over, and ordered me to get up on the roof with my rifle to provide cover if necessary. He told Lina to prepare for any medical treatment he might need. Anton would come with him to help the man. They readied their weapons and exited through the back door.

From the roof I could hear Magnus and Anton coming out through the back yard. They checked their flanks before hurrying across the road toward the western edge of town. I sat down behind the sandbags protecting the rooftop shed. Frida watched from a small window. I could hear her loading her AG4.

“Do you still see that man?” I asked her, struggling to find him in my scope.

“I think I see his feet. He’s still moving. There, just beside the big warehouse.” She replied.

I spotted him. Just then, Magnus and Anton reached the warehouse. They checked their surroundings again, and proceeded around the corner. We saw them helping the man up, but he could barely stand. They lifted him up between them and let him rest on their shoulders. It looked like they almost had to carry him as they began heading back to the garage.

I realized I had been too focused on Magnus and Anton. We suddenly heard a familiar buzzing behind us. Frida looked over at me.

“Seeker.” She whispered.

“I know. Keep watching their backs, I’ll try to get an angle on the seeker.” I told her.

With a silencer, I thought I might be able to take out the seeker without alerting any other machines. I crept over to the opposite edge of the roof and laid down. The seeker appeared from behind a barn down the eastern road. At the intersection it stopped. I carefully aimed at one of it’s jet thrusters and fired. The machine crashed into the ground where it went up in flames. I rolled over on my side and looked back at Frida.

“Got it.” I said, just loud enough for her to hear.

Frida turned around and nodded, but quickly raised a finger and pointed back down the road. I turned back and saw three runners approaching the seeker’s burning husk. Their headlamps switched to a yellow light as they began their search. They were coming down the street, straight toward us. If not stopped, they would pass right by the garage and run into Magnus, Anton and the stranger.

“Frida, help.” I whispered, hoping she would hear.

“On your shot.” I heard her say.

She was already in position. I took aim at the rear runner’s fuel cell and fired. It exploded in a rain of sparks and debris. The two others made an alarming noise as they turned around to see their wrecked companion. Their eyes burned red. I quickly chambered a new round and pulled the trigger once the crosshairs found the next runner’s fuel cell. My rifle sounded off a little pop, and a thin stream of grey smoke puffed out from behind the bolt. It was a misfire. I tried re-chambering, but the bolt was stuck.

“Fuck! Frida, It’s jammed!” I yelled.

“Magnus, Anton, hurry up!” She cried out over her shoulder.

Then she opened fire at the runners. She tried to give both of them an equal amount of fire in order to suppress them, but she wasn’t hitting anything vital. The runners started firing back wildly. Frida emptied her magazine at the front runner. It blew up and went sliding over the sidewalk.

“Reloading!” She shouted.

I used an empty SMG magazine for leverage, and with it I managed to pry the bolt open. I threw the misfired cartridge off the roof and got a new round chambered. The third runner was running at full speed up the street, and I struggled to get a clear aim at it. Two loud blasts followed, and the runner collapsed under a magnificent fireball. I peeked over the roof’s egde. Lina was standing in the doorway with a shotgun. Just then, the rescue party appeared around the corner.

“Quickly, get in!” Lina urged them.

Frida and I hastily gathered our things on the roof and climbed back down the hatch. The stranger was already sitting on one of the makeshift beds in the garage hall, while the others were trying to get his large, blood stained winter parka off him. He resisted. The man was clearly in shock.

“The rest of you, back off a bit. Give me some space with him.” Lina commanded.

We did as she said. Lina calmly knelt down in front of the huddling man on the bed and spoke to him.

“We just want to help you. You are safe here.” She said softly.

No response.

“I’m a doctor. I can help you treat your wounds.” Lina tried telling him.

Still no response. Lina looked over at us, unsure of what to do.

“I don’t understand your language.” The man suddenly spoke, in english.

The man removed his balaclava. A rough face revealed itself. It seemed to match a man in his late forties. The last weeks had been hard on him, judging by his appearance.

“You’re english?” Lina asked him.

“Canadian.” He replied. ”My name is Christopher.”

“Christopher, hi. My name is Lina. I tried to tell you I’m a doctor, and I want to help you by tending to your wounds.” Lina explained calmly.

“It ain’t my blood.” Christopher said as his voice cracked.

He covered his face and wept.

“It’s from my wife! They… They killed her!” He cried.

Anton stepped forward. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. The machines have taken so much from us as well, and it’s still hard to fathom that it’s our own technology that’s trying to exterminate us.” He said.

“This wasn’t them.” Christopher said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Anton inquired.

“You don’t know, do you?” He asked back.

We looked at each other questioningly.

“The war has begun. A soviet invasion force made landfall here on Östertörn a few days ago, just a couple kilometers north-west of here. And not just soldiers, but soviet machines as well.” Christopher explained.

In disbelief, we all went quiet. We couldn’t fathom what we had just been told. Magnus quickly broke the silence.

“Satan!” He yelled, as he grabbed a wrench and threw it into the wall with all his strength, then he walked out the hallway.

The room fell silent once more. Everyone seemed paralyzed, trying to process this new information. I could feel Frida’s trembling hand clutching mine. Anton sat down against the wall, with a resigned expression on his face. Lina looked uneasy and out of place, unable to help Christopher, who again was hiding his face in his hands, weeping.

I held on to Frida’s hand and led her out into the dark outer hallway. We could see Magnus’ silhouette in the frame of the back door, smoking a cigarette. I wanted to tell him to shut the door, but I needed some fresh air myself. Magnus said nothing as we walked up behind him, but kept staring at the dark horizon outside. We stood beside him in the doorway, listening for a moment.

“They’re coming.” He said quietly.

From somewhere far off to the north, the deep, thundering sounds of explosions could be heard. As we stood there listening they intensified and seemed to come even closer. The black skies lit up from countless flashes and bullet tracers. Magnus shook his head as he finished his smoke. He threw the burning stump in the snow outside, and pulled in the heavy metal door to close it. The sound echoed through the hallway as it slammed shut. In the dark, all we could hear were each other’s breathing, followed by a sharp click, as Magnus turned the key.

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Nice :sunglasses::+1: keep up the good work.

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Noice bro, I knew the Soviets would become involved at some point.

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And the weapon jamming, good idea, I had never thought of that. :thinking: It really adds to the realistic feeling of the story. :+1:

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Good work! It gives a good feeling of insperation!

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I love it

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