Hey guys, This is my first post in any of the forums :shock: I have always been fascinated by catastrophic event survival stories but with the boom in zombie love, I decided that I wanted to write a story based on more current events like the ones occurring my my home state of CO. Prologue 3!..... 2!........ 1!........ GO!!!!!!!! To my left are my two friends. Derek, with his modified sniper rifle and Aaron, with his beloved RPD. We sprint to the barn and Derek posts up on a bench. The window he looks out of covers the whole battlefield. Aaron takes cover in the back room to protect our rear while I cover the two front entrances with my M14 and Derek's old MP7 "We got a group movin' to the bus and another headed 'round the back" Derek whispered as he took aim As a joke, we each bought an ACU uniform like what the US soldiers wear, along with the heavy plate carriers. The team we were facing seemed to writhe in fear when they found out we were their opponents. Although the match was technically and 8 vs. 8, the rest of our team was useless so it really was more like a 3 vs. 8. "One down!" Derek yelled His spring sniper was the strongest gun on the field and the custom barrel instilled fear in everyone. All the guns we had, we modified. We would order the cheapest model of the guns we wanted and then we ordered custom parts. Derek would put them together. He was a certified gunsmith after all. "Where are these guys?" I asked "Probably changing their pants." Aarons humor had always been so inspiring. After 10 minutes and only two kills, both by Derek, boredom began to sink in... "I know we're supposed to be holding the barn, but if we go out and kill everyone, the barn will be safe!" As I am borderline ADD sitting still was a bit of a challenge We all moved into the back room with Aaron where it was safest, to begin planning our own assault "If they haven't moved from the bus or the back alley, we can make it into the maze without being seen." Derek's favorite area was the maze; a collection of fences, sheds and scrap metal. Derek shouldered his sniper rifle and took back his MP7. We moved out the back door, hooked right and hopped the fence on our left, into the maze. Weaving through the random scrap piles and over more fences, we made it to the back corner. BBs began flying towards us, it looked like someone on the other team shared Derek's love for the maze... "THEY'RE OUT OF THE BARN! CONVERGE ON THE MAZE!" Our cover had been blown it was going to be 6 vs. 3 since the rest of our team was comprised of cowards "HIT! HIT! HIT!" Derek doesn't like people taking his ideas. He crawled around the corner and lit up the poor kid in our spot. He would have welts from head to toe. Now that the maze was ours, defense would be much easier. There are three sheds in the maze that make an L shape. I took the one closest to the barn, it has a hole that looks into a room and the barn is in the background. Aaron took the middle room so he could cover both me and Derek. Derek took the back room where he could effectively use both his sniper and his MP7. As we waited for the enemy to raid the maze, Aaron took out some speakers from my backpack and plugged in some heavy metal... They already know where we are so we might as well have some fun, right? Two kids circled around the maze, right into my sights. I hit the first kid in the cheek and neck. The second kid got a few shots off but tripped over some debris and instead of kneecapping him, I hit him dead on in the tip. Just as my victims walked out of sight to the staging area, a battle erupted within the maze. Three of the four remaining kids had used the debris on the field to move in close but Aaron's RPD was keeping them subdued. As I came to the door, Derek was moving into a flanking position. "HIT!" Aaron went down. Without thinking, I dove into the maze and began shooting in the direction of our adversaries. This gave Derek enough time to reach his goal and in one short burst two more kids went down. Derek's surprise attack forced the third into a corner and with his surrender, there was only one left. "Where is this kid?" I wondered CRACK A BB slammed into the debris a few inches from my head. "Good thing he's not as good as you!" I whispered as Derek set up for a shot. The kid was sitting in the school bus and he probably knew that Derek was in the maze, but I wouldn't stop moving so his attention was occupied "3... 2... 1..." Derek pulled the trigger and his BB shattered the kids shooting glasses. We Finally Won
The actual disaster is still formulating in my brain and I was wondering if you guys could help me make it sound more legit, This is what I have so far... Three months ago, that story would've made a good drunk tale or an exciting ad for the airsoft field we played at. But now, the things I learned from competition airsofting have saved my life. It's June something, 2013. After all the gun laws were passed in the spring, things began to fall apart. The Denver based Black Market dealers began getting more and more business for things like 30 round magazines or untraceable assault rifles. Crime increased to the point that the police were authorized to s higher caliber weapons. Petty crime became a constant and the gangs became strong enough to overwhelm police stations.The Greater Denver Area is now quarantined and the Military is only used to keep us in My name is Tyler Mills and my group of friends are in a constant struggle for food, supplies and survival.
Chapter 1: Protection Even though I went to college in Miami, the worst experiences I had even heard about were single victim shootings on the news. Some of my friends were robbed at gunpoint but they were never hurt. The brutality of the expansion wars has caught everyone off guard. Everyone always talked about the ferocity of the MS-13 but… no one expected how quickly they would move north once the police and federal arrests stopped. The Black Market once supplied weapons and ammunition to all the gangs of the area but now, they are their own gang. The lack in fire power has forced the other gangs to branch out. Derek’s skill as a gunsmith made him a prime resource. The first gang to contact us was the Bloods. Although no major gang holds the cities north of Broomfield, there are constant gunfights between all the gangs, the remaining police forces and the surviving citizens. June… 3rd? 2013 The constant sound of gunshots has, frighteningly, become a welcome sound. The worst times are when everything is silent. I keep hoping the silence means that help has finally come but, my hopes are always answered by an explosion or terrified screams. I live in Erie, a small town 30 minutes north of Denver and 15 east of Boulder. The neighborhood I live in is hidden from sight, the entrance is a poorly marked road shrouded by the shade of the cottonwoods. The hills to the east of us conceal many homes from I-25, the major vein north to Fort Collins and Wyoming. The northern edge of our neighborhood is guarded by “Brownsville” a thickly populated, lower-middle class neighborhood. To the west, an orchard protects us from the vie of HWY 287, one of the bigger roads, from Westminster to Longmont. Derek and I decided that my house would be safest because: my dad, Dan, was in Vietnam and knows a thing or twenty about defending a position; Derek’s house is next to a gas station which will probably be a trouble magnet soon; I have a collection of pistols, shotguns, high powered rifles… We have a lot of guns… As we began moving Derek’s workbenches, gunsmithing equipment, reloading supplies and guns our caravan got stopped by a Bloods’ checkpoint… “Why do they have a checkpoint here?” I was confused more on what kind of luck we had since Derek’s house was barely a mile away. “They’re movin’ North, the NSM (North Side Mafia) will be here soon.” Derek’s predictions had an odd way of always being right. As we slowed the car to a stop Derek checked his 1911 for rounds and told me to pull his MP5 out from the back seat. Three Escalades blocked our way. When we stopped, one flashed its lights and pulled towards us. Derek pulled the hammer back on his pistol…. The Escalade stopped 5 yards from Derek’s truck. All four doors opened and six Bloods jumped out, all with AK-47s. “Hide the MP5” Derek whispered as he slid his 1911 under his seat. Clearly out gunned, we hoped they were willing to at least take hostages. Three of the Blood’s stayed at their vehicle while the other three approached. “Roll down the window.” I more saw than heard one of the bloods say. Derek cracked the window. “What can we do for ya?” he asked, sounding a little more redneck than usual. “Oh, we was just wonderin’ why a couple boys are in a truck, packed full. You weren’t gonna leave were ya?” his slurred speech made me worried, a drunk with a gun sounds like a terrible combination. Hopefully it affects his aim more than his mood. “No sir, we’ve just been friends a long time, were just realizing how important close friends are.” Derek’s mouth was moving faster than his mind. “Now ain’t that a load of bull? What you got in the bed of your truck doesn’t look much like sleep over supplies.” This guy seemed less and less scary but his two friends… They could give Jason a run for his money. After explaining Derek’s skill set the six men got back into their escalade and regrouped with the other two. A different escalade pulled up and a very large man stepped out with five bodyguards. He came to Derek’s window and knocked, indicating he wanted the window all the way down. “After the Black Market stopped supplying us, we’ve been searching for someone who can make us guns.” He looked over at a bodyguard who brought him a box. Inside was an Ivory handled 357 magnum. “I would hate to waste a resource, so how would you two like to make weapons for the bloods?”
Eventually, I'm swamped with school right now I may put some up this weekend. But then nothing till the 8th of may
Chapter 2: Regrets Before any of this, my friends and I would always plan escape roots and emergency action protocols but when **** hits the fan, nobody follows through. We all forget about everyone accept those we’re with. I even forgot about Lexy, and we had been dating for almost a year. Derek’s girlfriend was in Commerce City when thing went down so… I’m nervous to bring up an excursion into Boulder. It’s been a week or so since we were incarcerated at my house. Luckily the Bloods didn't come in, we just can’t leave they neighborhood. Derek is actually kind of happy, the Bloods are excellent suppliers. As long as we maintain our quota, we are fed, protected and not beaten. June 17 2013 Although my dad was a police officer once, he respected our decision to join the Bloods. He thought it was a way to up security from raiders but at the same time he did not like the captivity. He was the one who remembered that there is a city gate between my yard and Brownsville. This would allow us an escape root for our own supplies. One thing I really love about my dad is his interest in toys… a couple of years ago, he bought a dune buggy. It was essentially rails and an engine. Our first project became armor plating the buggy. It would provide a nice method of transportation. There were originally two seats but with the help of Derek’s welding skill we added a front gunner seat. The hardest part of the project was taking my dad’s car, the quietest of our vehicles and safely getting it to an old metallurgy shop that had 1 inch steel sheets. Then we would cut them to size there and bring them back. We always left one behind to talk to the Bloods if they came for a pick up. The project only took a week, considering all the free time. When it ended I brought up Lexy. I only talked to Dan about it. “Dan? Do you think Lexy is still alive? Could we get her?” “Well… it’s been two weeks, since things got bad… I don’t know bad Boulder got it… I just can’t tell you.” He paused a lot and didn't sound very confident “Can I take the buggy to her house?” He looked out the window to where the buggy was sitting, covered up. “We haven’t tested it with all the weight on it… but it should be okay, I’ll drive if you want to be up in the gunner’s seat.” The only problem with the dune buggy was how loud it was when you started it. To cover this, Derek came out and shot one of his new automatics as we started it up. We have tested several of our guns so it wouldn't be suspicious. Once it got started though the buggy became pretty quiet especially now that the engine was encased in 3 inches thick of steel plating. Initially the drive wasn't too bad but once we got into the outlying parts of Boulder things began to look unsettling. About halfway from my house is a gas station, right before a big hill. The gas station was now just a pile of rubble and the hill was scorched from the fire, the vocational school was on fire and had several large chunks missing from the walls. When we got to her neighborhood, the NSM had abandoned blockades at each of the entrances and MS-13 was spry painted on every piece of each blockade. The eerie thing was that there was no one guarding. Thankfully we had a dune buggy and we just went over the curb and around a blockade. But as we went down the street, Dan realized our mistake… “We’re surrounded…” he whispered. One member came into the middle of the street and tried to block our way. Dave floored it and left a red stain on the road… I don’t think they were expecting that because we heard a few shots pop off but nothing hit and we didn't get chased When we pulled onto Lexy’s street, my jaw dropped… her house was the headquarters of the MS-13 branch in Boulder, they had guards barbed wire, machine guns and a fleet of trucks. The garage door was open but none of Lexy’s family’s cars were there. We gunned passed the house and through a park and back onto another road. “Go to the Meadows” I hoped they had gotten out in time
I didn't like the talk about the guns, guess it's because I'm not that interested in guns. But the first chapter did caught my attention and I decided to read on. Please continue.