This group is for writers and readers.

Here are the new rules:

1. If you are writing or have written stories you want to share with the VicsLab.com community, you can add your stories to this group, but we ask that you also leave feedback on another member’s story.

2. If you don’t have any stories of your own and just want to read stories, the authors would appreciate it if you leave feedback.

Anyone can join the conversation. Members also can create and comment via forum topics to discuss certain aspects of the stories, such as characters, plot, theme, style, and setting.

If you already have a story on your profile page under your “Stories” tab, you can add that story to the group by selecting the document and then selecting “associated groups.” There you can select this group so it can be seen here. Please select “logged-in users” for your story’s privacy settings if you don’t want non-members to view it. Also, please select “Doc author only” under editing privileges if you don’t want others to edit your work (i.e., make changes to your story).

Time Is Not Dead – Chapter 2 Slow Day

Chapter 2 – Slow Day

I wake up the next morning with Lucus jumping up and down on the end of my mattress chanting, “Ace, Ace, Ace, Ace!” I have been called “Ace” by everyone, except my parents, for years now since it is actually the initials of my full name, Anthony Charles Everett. “I didn’t know you were sleeping in here with me,” Lucus says with excitement. He is only six years old, so every little thing like this excites him.

“Hey little buddy, yeah I’ll probably be sleeping in here for a while,” I reply in a half yawn, "so how about we go make us some breakfast?” Lucus is already out of the room by the time I am up and out of bed. I put on my same bloody clothes from yesterday since, in all the excitement, I forgot to unpack my clothes from my car.

I walk past the kitchen, where Lucus is climbing on the counter looking through cabinets, and slip into the bathroom to try to clean up some. The grime washes off my skin in the sink easy enough, but I have to, more or less, scrap off what I can from my clothes. I walk into the kitchen, and see Lucus now pulling out bowls from the top cabinet next to the sink. It seems to surprise him when I jokingly ask, “What do you think you are doing?”

Instead of giving me an answer, Lucus hops off the counter and ask instead, “Why is all that stuff in front of the doors and windows?” It does not surprise me that he noticed, but I guess I was just hoping he might not. Last night I managed to block all three doors leading outside, one downstairs in my parents’ room and two upstairs in the living and dining rooms. I also was able to block all seven windows throughout the house.

I thought it was going to be easier to answer any questions Lucus had this morning, but he is just a little kid. He would probably not even understand anything I was to tell him, so I just continue to ignore the question for now. “I want to eat this cereal,” he says already holding his favorite box of cereal after giving up on an answer, or maybe just not caring enough about getting one.

I pour both of us a bowl of cereal each, and we sit on stools at our kitchen counter quietly eating. As we eat I think about the all mess I will need to clean in the house, plus burying my families’ bodies, while Lucus happily spins his cereal around in his bowl. We finish drinking our cereal milk at about the same time, and then place our dishes in the sink. “I have some stuff I need to get done downstairs today, so you need to stay up here for a while,” I tell Lucus.

“Can I go outside and ride my bike?” Lucus ask back.

“Umm, no sorry buddy, not right now. Just play with your trucks and other toys for now,” I answer.

“Aww okay,” he says while slowly walking towards his room with his head down.

Once he is in his room I head downstairs and shut the door to the stairs behind me. This will hopefully keep Lucus upstairs so he will not try to sneak down here after me. The first thing that needs to be done is to clean up the broken glass from the gun cabinet since it can easily cut someone not paying attention. I carefully pick up the broken pieces, and place them in the trash can, hoping they will not tear a hole in the bag. The door of the gun cabinet also needs to come off since there are broken pieces stuck in it as well, but I will need the key to unlock the door and a screwdriver to unscrew the hinges.

The screwdriver is easy enough to find since I know there is a tool bag in my parents’ bathroom. After I get the screwdriver, I check the key hooks next to the outside door for the gun cabinet key, but it is not there. That must mean Richard keeps it on his own key ring, which also means they are either with his dead body, or the keys were left outside with the car while he was loading it.

I decide to check Richard first. As I walk towards Joey’s bedroom, I notice a strange smell getting stronger the closer I get to the door. When I open the door the smell gets way worse, worse enough to almost make me drop to the ground. After fighting back the urge to gag from the smell, I see the four dead bodies, but there is something weird about them.

Joey’s body still looks exactly the same, but Mom’s and Richard’s look like they have been dead for days instead of just one night. Kristen’s body does not look much different, but the wound on her arm is a lot nastier looking then I remember it being. Maybe whatever this epidemic is must be causing the bodies to decompose faster than normal; it is the only way I can make sense of it.

I put that thought away when I remember my first intentions of coming in here, which was to check to see if Richard’s keys are on his dead body. I start to reach for Richard’s front right pocket, but hesitate for a second. I do not think it is the smell bothering me, even though it is much worse up close, but for some reason the thought of taking things from a dead body bothers me a little. I get over it though, I need to, and shove my hand in his pocket before I can second-guess myself. Luckily the keys are in this pocket, gun cabinet key included.

I get the door off gun cabinet, and put any remaining pieces of glass in the trash can with the rest of it. I then continue to straighten up downstairs, cleaning up the remaining blood splatter and fixing things knocked over in Kristen’s struggle. The only thing that remains to be done is to bury my families’ bodies.

I take the bed sheets from my parents’ and Joey’s bed, and wrap each body in a sheet. I start to drag Joey’s body out of the room, but I notice Joey’s digital clock on his dresser and see that it is already past noon. I will need to wait to bury the bodies, since I am sure Lucus is hungry by now and ready for lunch. I go back upstairs, and Lucus is already standing at the top of the stairs like he was about to come down.

Before Lucus can say anything, I tell him, “Go wash your hands and get ready to eat lunch.” He goes to the bathroom, and I hear the sink turn on. I wash my hands in the kitchen sink a few times just to make sure that they are extra clean from handling the dead bodies. As I do I ask Lucus, “What do you want to eat for lunch?”

Lucus walks out of the bathroom shaking his hands dry, but he looks unhappy about something. “Umm, I don’t know what I want to eat,” he says. He walks into the kitchen, and just sits at the kitchen counter without saying anything else.

“Then I will make us sandwiches,” I tell him. He just nods and continues to sit quietly. I put some bologna and cheese on slices of bread to make the sandwiches, and then I hand one to Lucus. After nibbling away on the sandwiches for a minute, I break the silence and ask Lucus, “So what have you been doing?”

Lucus responds with a sigh and says, “I’m bored, and the T.V. is messed up.”

I know the television is not getting some channels, but I guess even all the cartoon channels are out now. The only thing I can say is, “I’m sorry I have to do all this stuff downstairs buddy. Don’t you still have more toys you can play with?”

“I just want to go play outside,” Lucus immediately answers back.

“Okay,” I say in defeat, finally giving in to his request, “but after we eat I still need to check some things before we go outside. Then you can play while I work on stuff that needs to be done out there. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he happily answers with a smile back on his face. He continues eating his sandwich at a quicker pace, probably so he can hurry up and go outside.

“Whoa, no need to rush. I still need to finish eating too,” I tell him. We both finish eating within a few seconds of each other, and Lucus hops off his stool ready to run downstairs. “Wait Lucus,” I call to him, “don’t forget our deal. Just give me a couple more minutes, and wait here. Besides you need to change out of your pajamas.” Before he can say anything back I am already downstairs and walking to my parents’ bedroom.

The dresser I pushed in front of the door leading outside last night is still there, so I scoot it out of the way just enough for me to be able to see through the door window. The first thing I see is the dead body of the man Richard killed, and who also killed Richard. I had completely forgotten about it lying out there. From the look of the severely decomposed body and after what Kristen told me, it is most likely dead for good and not a threat, but I still do not want Lucus to know about it. I start to move the dresser some more so I can squeeze through to go quickly move the body, but I bump into something behind me. This startles me and causes me to trip, falling backwards.

“Oww!” Lucus shouts, now sitting right behind me rubbing the side of his butt.

“What are you doing right behind me?” I ask him, since he is probably the reason I tripped.

“I just wanted to see what you are doing, so I can go outside and play,” Lucus replies.

“I told you to wait until I said it is okay…” I start saying.

“But…” Lucus interrupts.

“No,” I interrupted back while trying not to get aggravated with him. “Now go back upstairs, and wait just a little longer.

“Fine,” Lucus sighs. He stands up and turns to walk out of the room, and then I notice he is carrying something I did not see at first.

“Lucus, what is that you have in your hand?” I ask him, while trying to peek at his left hand in front of him down by his side.

“Oh this,” he says, holding up his hand to reveal the pistol I had with me last night. “I found it in my room, and was going to play with it outside. Mommy said we can’t play with toy guns inside.”

The sight of the pistol shoots a small shock of panic through me, and for moment I am scared for some reason. “Give that to me Lucus; it is not a toy,” I tell him as I snatch the pistol out of his hand without any resistance since he is caught off gaurd. “Now go back upstairs and stay. I really mean it this time.”

After I am sure Lucus is back upstairs I sit down on my parents’ bed looking at the pistol. All of a sudden the reality of what just happened hits me. It is hard for me to believe I am stupid enough to leave something so dangerous just laying around, but I do not know if this fear is from Lucus potentially getting hurt due my incompetence, or that I was about to go outside to a world now threatened by an new danger I barely know anything about, without any way to protect myself. If anything was to kill me then Lucus would be left all alone, and that is something I cannot let happen. I need to make sure safety is the top priority; which means I cannot risk letting anything happen to either of us.

There is no way it is safe enough for Lucus to play outside anymore, but he is not going to stop bugging me about it; besides I still need to do something with all the dead bodies of my family. I stand back up to look for another bed sheet I can use to cover the dead body laying outside, and find an old worn-out one in my parents’ bedroom closet. After taking one more look outside to make sure it is clear of any danger, I take a deep breath to make sure I am focus and take my first step to dash outside.

The stench of the rapidly decomposing dead body hits me as soon as I open the door, but I do not let it phase me like it did in Joey’s bedroom. The shorter amount of time I have to be out here doing this, the better, so my only focus is covering and moving the body as fast as I am able. I run over to the corpse, and throw the sheet on top of it without taking any time to examine the dead body in any further detail. There is not a spot anywhere to hide it until I dig a hole, so I drag it around to the back of the house.

I hurry back inside to get the rest of my family’s bodies so I can bring them outside also. It takes more time and effort than expected to carry each body individually to the same spot behind the house. The dead weight makes them seem heavier, even though I am surprised I could left Richard at all; plus being so close to such a rotten smell ruins any concentration I tried to summon when I started.

All the bodies are finally laid out together, so now I just need to dig a hole big enough to fit all of them. This is going to take quite a bit of time to finish though, and I am sure Lucus will not wait much longer to come outside to play. It is really hard for me to let Lucus come out here since there is no way to know what or when something could happen. Unfortunately, there is not a better option for taking care of these bodies. I have no choice but to let Lucus come out, and watch him and the surrounding area like a hawk.

I walk back inside to my parent’s bedroom and shout, “Lucus!” loud enough that I know he will able to hear me.

The sound of running footsteps from above answers my call. In an instant Lucus is already down here excitingly asking, “Can I play outside now?”

“Yes,” I answer, “but you have to always stay where I can see you. It is very important, okay?”

“Okay,” he says with a little less excitement now.

“Okay then, let’s go,” I say while stepping outside with Lucus trying to squeeze past me. He runs ahead of me to the side of the small weathered shed sitting at the back of the property to get his bicycle, while I grab a shovel from inside the shed. “I am going to be over behind to house. Remember to stay in this part of the yard so I can still see you,” I tell him while I wave my hand around to show him the open area in the opposite corner of the backyard is what I am referring to.

“What are you going to do? “ Lucus asks, looking at the shovel in my hand and then behind me towards to the covered row of dead bodies. “What is that over there?”

“It is nothing you need to worry about,” I quickly respond, “just something I need to work on for a little while.” Lucus does not seem to care much since he hops on his bicycle, and pedals away without saying anything else. I walk back over to the row of dead bodies, and take a moment to estimate how big I will need to dig the hole. It only needs to be deep enough to completely cover all the bodies, but still wide enough to fit all five bodies. A six feet long by four feet wide perimeter for the hole should work fine, so I carve a rough approximate for the outline into ground with my shovel. I have no idea how deep the hole should be. I always heard six feet under, but that would take much longer than I want. I am about six feet tall, so if the hole is about level with my waist then it should be deep enough.

With my back to the fence, so I can make sure to keep an eye on Lucus, I begin digging within my carved outline. I try to dig as fast as possible in order to hurry up and finish, and then get Lucus back inside where it is safe. There has never really been any other time before in my life where I needed to dig a hole of this size, so fatigue creeps up on me quick.

It already seems like I have been digging for a while, but I am only halfway finished with the hole. Lucus also has to keep being reminded to stay in the backyard, which only distracts and slows me down even more. Having my gun on me is also starting to get in the way of digging, so I decide to set it down near the edge of the hole where it is still easily within reach. Without it in the way, I am able to move more freely, and dig at a faster pace. I concentrate more on the hole to speed up progress, and finish digging the hole in no time.

I carefully lower each body into the hole, one at a time. Right when I am about to lower the last body, which belonged to the man that killed Richard, into the hole, loud barking erupts from behind me. The barking startles me, and makes me jerk around to see what it is. In a short glimpse I see a dog barking at something stuck halfway through the fence, but the sudden jerk to turn around makes me slip and fall back into the hole; dragging the last body on top of me in attempt to catch myself. The barking dies down, but the unintelligible moaning of the dead takes its place. I climb out of the hole, and see another dead man staring straight at me, already trying to force its way in my direction even though it is still stuck in the fence.

I recognize this man; he was the farmhand that worked with the cattle in the field behind our property. During the brief second I am in this thought, the man breaks free and limps quickly over towards me faster than expected. I try to grab for my gun, but it also fell in the hole and is too far out of reach now to grab it in time. Instead I grab the shovel just as the dead man pounces at me, and smack it across the head. It stumbles backwards as I back away to keep my distance also.

On its second advance at me I smack it across the head once more, even harder this time, and send it falling in the hole. Without any hesitation I use the shovel to stab straight down into the dead farmhand's head, going completely through the skull and splattering blood all inside the hole. The man’s movements stop moving instantly, and I quickly snatch my gun out hole, wiping away any blood with the grass.

I immediately realize I do not know where Lucus is. There are no sounds of him playing; there are not any sounds except for my racing heartbeat. The sound of my pounding heart fills my head, and the panic of losing Lucus paralyses me completely. The sound of barking slowly fades into my hearing, and snaps me back to my senses. The barking is coming the front yard this time, so I hurry around the house to see our dog, Bear, facing down the road barking at something.

I hear the crunching sound of gravel, and only a few seconds later a silver truck comes into view, speeding up the road. The truck flies past me, and then suddenly slams on the brakes and start driving in reverse to stop again in front of the house. Lucus pops up in the passenger side window, and I race over to the truck as fast as I can. I am about to jerk open the truck door, but Lucus throws it open first.

“I found him crying at the bottom of the hill down the road while I was driving by. It looks like he fell off his bike,” the driver of the truck blurts out. I know this driver; he is the old man who lives at the end of the road, but I cannot remember his name at the moment.

“Thank you for helping him,” I tell the driver while giving him a small nod, “come on Lucus I’ll help you out.” As Lucus is climbing out of the truck I notice something large wrapped in a blanket laying in the backseat, and ask the driver, “What is that in the back?”

The driver’s face gets tense, “it’s Becky. One of Ed’s little shits attacked her,” he says with anger in his voice as his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I am taking her to get help. Did you watch the news? The world has gone mad,” the more he talks the angrier he looks and sounds. “Your family should leave too; it’s not safe here anymore.”

“You…you...uh…I…,” I am speechless. What do I say? If he watched the news then he should know how dangerous she is now. Lucus and I definitely should not go with him either, even if we are alone. I cannot take my eyes off the backseat, “was she bit?”

“Well hell, what does it matter boy!” the driver yells, now more in panic than anger. After taking a quick deep breath, he says with a still panicked voice, “look I need to go, so go on now.”

“I’m sorry,” I quietly say under my breath, so quiet I can barely even hear it. Lucus and I back away from the truck, and before the truck door is even completely shut, the driver hits the gas and speeds away. “Come on Lucus, we need to go back inside.” We turn around and I follow Lucus back towards the house with my hand on his shoulder to guide him. I take a quick look behind me before walking back inside, and the truck is already way out of sight. I just cannot help wondering what is going to happen to that man with the woman being in the condition she is in.

We get back inside, and I check Lucus for any injuries. “Are you hurting anywhere?” I ask him. He only nods. Besides a few cuts and scrapes, there does not appear to be anything else wrong. “You’re fine,” I tell him with an obvious angry affliction in my voice, "now go upstairs and clean yourself up. I will be up there in a minute to make us dinner.”

Lucus slowly trudges away to do as he is told, not making a sound, only rubbing the places he is hurt. I block off the outside door with the dresser again; filling up the hole is going to have to wait. After all the stress from what just happened, I am just unable to bring myself to go back out there anymore today. Besides, according to the digital clock on my mother’s night stand, it is already getting pretty late in the evening, so I really do need to make dinner.

I go upstairs and hear the shower running in the bathroom, so it means Lucus is actually doing what I told him. He is smart enough to know I am upset with him, and that he better do as he is told or he will be in even more trouble. That is how it was with our parents at least. Once someone was on their bad side, it would seem like all hell broke loose. I am not like them though. I was barely taking care of myself in a normal world, so how am I supposed to be able to take care of a child also now that the world may really be hell.

The shower turns off, and I realize I ended up sitting at the counter dozing off. I get up to check the cabinets for something to make to eat, but the more I look, the less I am in the mood to actually cook anything. The bathroom door opens, and Lucus walks out already dressed in his pajamas. “Do you feel better now?” I ask him while making sure my tone is calmer than before.

“Yeah,” Lucus says, his eyes staring straight down to the ground.

“Okay. Well I am just making us sandwiches again for dinner, so I hope that is fine,” I tell him. He just nods again as I shake my head at his poor responsiveness. Within minutes I have each of us a sandwich made, and in the next few minutes it takes us to eat our sandwiches, not a word is said. I have nothing to say to him that would not sound aggravated, and I guess he thinks he should not say anything either. When both sandwiches are completely eaten I tell Lucus, “now you need to go ahead and go to bed.”

“But…,” he starts to say. Before he says another word I am already staring him down with a look that must have warned him that I meant what I said, and there is no point in trying to argue. I know he was going to complain that it is still too early to be his bed time, but I do not care. My mood really must still be aggravated at him I guess, or maybe it is towards myself. Whichever it is I do not feel like dealing with it, so it is easier to just send him to bed. Lucus once again slowly and quietly trudges along to his bedroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. The squeak of his bed lets me know he is in it, but the sound of soft crying soon follows.

I hate hearing him cry, but it is his fault for not listening to me. I figure I need to take a shower also, after remembering I am somewhat still covered in two days of filth. On my way to Lucus’s bedroom to get my stuff for the shower, it occurs to me my bags are still out in my car. I still do not want to go back out there, but the longer all this nasty filth is on me, the more it gets on my nerves.

I decide to run out, get my bag, and come straight back inside. Without any other thoughts I go downstairs, move the dresser, and jog over to my car. Right as I am reaching out to open the back passenger side door of my car to grab my bag, my cell phone, still sitting in the front passenger seat, catches my eye.

I pick up my cell phone, and sit in my front passenger seat, shutting the car door. No messages, calls, or anything is on my phone. Without thinking I type out a text message on my phone. When the message is complete I read it out loud to myself, “I need help. I can’t do this by myself; it is just Lucus and I all alone. I am scared, so scared. What am I supposed to do? I just want everything to be safe again.”

I do not know why I bothered to type this. Who would I even send it to? No one has tried to contact me, so why bother trying to contact anyone now. Once again though without thinking, instead of deleting the message, I send it to every contact in my phone, and wait.

I am not sure how long I actually waited. It could have been seconds or minutes, but it felt like I waited hours. There is never a response, and out of frustration I slam my phone to the floor of my car. I give up on waiting for someone to respond and maybe come to magically fix things. It was pointless to try anyways, and I knew it when I tried. These past two days have really been hell. Giving up seems like it would be too easy, and the thought of it seems so inviting.

"Lucus would be alone though." This thought alone is the reason I am unable to give up. I rest my head on the dashboard, and close my eyes thinking I am just going to rest my mind for a second to clear out the negative thought, so I can actually make some kind of plan for surviving this hell. The exhaustion catches me off guard though, and the instant my eyes close I immediately drift deep asleep.

Discussion (3)

  1. Profile photo of Luis Aleman
    Luis Aleman

    Dialogue needs more authenticity.
    Too much “I” e.g. “After I get the screwdriver”-“After getting the screwdriver”.
    Lack of descriptions and body language.
    Too many filler words e.g. “the door of the gun cabinet”-“the gun cabinet’s door”
    need more contractions e.g. it is-it’s, I will-I’ll.
    “When I open the door the smell gets way worse, worse enough to almost make me drop to the ground.” Could use comparison to known smells.
    Narrative prose needs more weight and depth to make the story more believable. This ties in with descriptions.
    The main character needs to drop hints of how he is able to adapt so quick.
    Lucus needs more attention to his character. He feels rather empty and too oblivious, even for a child
    A lot of word repetition could be substituted with pronouns.
    The majority of dialogue tags used could be erased to make the reading flow smoother
    There’s a substantial amount of telling and not showing, which doesn’t translate the characters’ emotions well.
    Ace’s narration sounds empty and more like he’s reading a script, not allowing for any character development or connection with the reader to relate. He also needs to give hints as to how is able to not cry over his family’s deaths or else their is no suspension of disbelief. Use more of the 5 senses.
    The chapter felt like it dragged on too long with constant cleaning. It can be condensed to only a few paragraphs, giving more room for story development.
    There’s also no clear premise and only a vague goal of Ace shielding Lucus away from the tragedy.

    1. Profile photo of The A.C.
      The A.C. Post author

      Thanks for the feedback; I am glad you continued reading. There is something I forgot to clarify to people reading this: this is still relatively incomplete. By that I mean I purposely am waiting to add details till later otherwise I get too caught up in doing it. That being said I probably do need some now.

      The title of this chapter is Slow Day, I meant for it to drag on to let things settle and sink in. The character development happens later also since this is still only the second chapter, but I agree both characters need more emotion and depth. They are actually based on my brother and myself, and are pretty much dead on personality wise so they are relatable to me. Lucus stay oblivious for a while and Ace stay cold and near emotionless for a while (for a reason though which is revealed later).

      Grammar wise I am still working on finding better alternatives for “I”, but in writing conjunctions (not contractions) are not typically grammatically correct except in dialogue; which I do.

      I realize I keep saying “later in the book”, but that is because I do want everything reveal right off the bat. I want the mystery and the questions, so bare with me and I will drop more hints.

      Once I thank you so much for reading, and your feedback is great. It is some of the best feedback I get, and it help me improve my writing tremendously. This book is on hold while I am preparing my series I actually want published ( this is more of a hobby and practice). Thanks again so much!

      1. Profile photo of The A.C.
        The A.C. Post author

        Ignore the “Grammar wise I am still working on finding better alternatives for “I”, but in writing conjunctions (not contractions) are not typically grammatically correct except in dialogue; which I do” comment I just wrote, apparently I have foot in mouth syndrome.

        I meant I know I use a lot of conjunctions and longer sentences, because I prefer it over choppy sentences. However I do not use contractions, because they are typically not grammatically correct except in dialogue.

        My bad I realized after I re-read the reply that this sentence had a completely different meaning than I intended.

Comments are closed.