50% of Book Two has now been drafted, proof read and had the first edits rolled in!
I’m trying a different writing technique to the one I used for Book One – where I more or less dumped everything from my head into text and then edited/cut/shuffled and tweaked it.
This time, I’ve planned out several story arcs which will all be intertwined in the final edit. One such arc is now complete, and makes up around 70,000 words – roughly half the planned word count for Book Two.
So, to celebrate, enjoy a cutting from this arc which sees Toraz and Sheran making their way across Canthe, now devastated by the aftermath of the Damper crashing into their world…
“What have we got left to pack then?” he asked, and Sheran immediately forgot her concern as another swept in to replace it.
They had packed everything they had chosen to take, leaving the rest in a pile in the living room area. Toraz insisted on leaving his name behind in case the original owners of the house ever came back, on a note explaining he had taken the Coldstone and why. He promised his name as recompense at some point if or when it ever mattered, along with their intended destination.
“I want to get that extra water container I think,” he said to Sheran, as they collected up the remaining loose items after eating their last meal in the house.
“Okay, I can finish this lot up.”
With a kiss, Toraz set out for the local store a block away. It took him a few minutes walking and then he was inside, casually looting the store for anything else which he felt he could cram onto the flyer. He’d already left a similar note here bearing his name promising payment for a rough guess at how much they had taken so far. There was plenty to choose from but he talked himself out of it. They had plenty of equipment and tools already, with enough spare to allow them to barter for food. He grabbed a collapsible water container and a set of filtration packs, then turned to leave. A shape shot away from the doorway as he turned, scaring him half to death. He replayed the brief image in his mind’s eye and then charged forward out of the door.
“Wait! I won’t harm you!”
He skidded to a halt outside, and the young Canthe slowed near the corner of the building, then pelted off down the alleyway behind it.
“Damnation,” Toraz cursed, and gave chase. If there were survivors here he might be able to take them with them. “Wait!”
He followed the youngster down several alleys and driveways, having to stop here and there to listen as they ran away. He had to give chase across several gardens and narrowly avoided plunging into a now stagnant swimming pool, then ran straight through several houses which had their doors left open front to back. Their long hike across the continent and the harsh fallout-winter had burned off much of his body fat, and left him fairly fit and lean, but he was soon gasping for breath as he came to a halt in the middle of a street.
He’d lost them. He was now wondering why he’d given such a crazy chase in the first place. It just seemed to be a natural response. He’d wanted to just talk to them, make sure they were okay, maybe offer help.
He dropped down onto the ground, sitting with his legs outstretched and arms supporting his back as he strove to regain his breath.
He didn’t see the beam of wood swinging at the back of his head, but he certainly felt it.
Everything went black.