Disclaimer: This story is based upon Steven King's "The Stand" I did not
make it. I merley took his Idea and put my own spin on it. So do not send
me a review saying it's so similair to Steven King's I KNOW!!!!!!!!!
Don't Fear The Reeper
A Fan Fiction Based On The Stand By Steven King, Our Generations great writer,.
Vice City Fort Baxter Air base June 17, 1986
Henry Mcdough lay nestled in his little guard tower it was about twenty feet in the air. Inside was a desk, a chair and of course a gun rack with an M-4 and some other military rifles stacked upon it. He sat facing the road. It would'nt matter even if he was facing to the floor it was pitch black except for the spotlight occasionally cutting threw the darkness. It was like any normal night at Baxter. The night air was humid and the monitor was green. Which means to us nothing important had escaped. Henry was nodding over an issue of Vice Life and listening to VCPR. The usual stuff, nothing that really seemed to matter. Every few seconds he would lower the magazine to look at the monitors. A couple of Scientists working, others eating in the cafe. To bad the cafe was 20 feet below Sea level , because Henry was sure Hungry. He upped the magazine and began reading an article about car theft. He did'nt know how long he was indulged in the little snipit of information he was somewhere between the first paragraph and the the third when a loud banging came from the glass plate windows that surrounded him. He looked up suddenly it was Jones he looked scared as hell. " Mcdough!" he looked like a ghost he was so white and shaky. At first Henry did not answer he was to scared. "Henry!, open up man!" he banged harder". "Okay!" henry threw his magazine down and reached over his long desktop for a silver key dispensed in an ashtray with assorted paper clips and rubber bands. When his hand froze, right there as plain as day the meter was flashing red, his breath became fast and hard. He looked at the other ones the scientists where dying. Somewhere coughing up blood others where spasming on the floor and some had already begun to go into what they called Mcarthur stage. He slowly pulled his hand away from the ashtray. "What are you doing!" Jones screamed "let me the hell in before they tare me aparararararat" he said while furiously shaking the glass panel. Henry reached behind his back and grabbed his service pistol on the table. He brought it around and cocked it. His face stayed calm and stern with some hint of fear as his hand steadily shook. "Jones now, now you know i can't do that" he said pointing the gun at Jones chest.
Henry began to notice somethings about Private Mike Jones he did'nt notice before. For one thing he had a bullet wound in his hand and some stab wounds on his belly. Probably given to him by some people suffering from the McArthur stage. "Henry, henry, hennnry!" Jones said crying and shaking his head. "Now calm down!" henry made a lowering movments with both hands "Just tell me what happen. "Well I was guarding the elevator and, and.." his face muscles contorsed as he held back a cry "they what?" Henry said eagerly. "When all of a sudden the elevator came up and they came out. There where about six of em they all had clubs and where foaming at the mouth" he said with some hightened fright. "Okay well it's over now where are they?". Jones held back a few more cries. Thats the thing their not dead. "What?" Henry said with some disbeleif. "You see they" Jones spun around with his finger out. When all of a sudden a bullet came whissing threw the night air and threw his chest. he fell down. "Jones!" Henry screamed getting up and looking over the window sill. Yep he was dead. The noise of gun fire and intense sneezing and coughing could be heard from all directions in the darkness. Henry could'nt tell who was who. He gulped and looked over to a red switch that when hit would make lock down mode intial. It would stop the infected from escaping but it would stop his escape. He twitched uneasy he was thinking when a couple of gun shots pierced the window. It just missed him. It was pistol fire. Good! Henry thought the armory must be locked. He grabbed the M-4 0ff the wall and smacked a 30 round clip into it, then he put on his M-P helmet, he was ready to go down fighting.
He got up and cautiously looked out the window. The spot light was panning across the cement air field. When he caught a glimpse of a pile of dead bodies and some ravenous looking people firing in all directions. Suddenly a cold fear struck him like a cold blade into a warm body. The people where hacking really bad and falling over. Their bodies could'nt handle the germ. Henry knew that if he did'nt get out now then the brass on the other end of town where going to see something wrong and do lock down themselves. Or in other words do Henry's job for him. It was now or never as he swung open the trap door between his legs and descended the steps. It only took him about a minute to get to the gate. The bridge was open and the guard in the booth was dead. As Henry ran past the body he could see that someone had blown his head off. The person lay slumped over the controls. Henry made it to the street when he heard the solid steel gate slam down.
Henry did'nt even look back he just ran north. He stopped every once and a while to spit up flem and blood.
Yes in only fifteen minutes, Fort Baxter Air Base home to two hundred recruits was now Fort Baxter Tomb home to two hundred dead.
And thats the begging of the end.
Authors Note: I know I don't own it so please review and tell me what you think don't tell me it sounds like The Stand I know! I am sorry to have to do this but I tried doing something similar I put one disclaimer at the top. But still some few Jack asses sended me emails telling me I copied So and So!. Please review
Don't Fear The Reeper
A Fan Fiction Based On The Stand By Steven King, Our Generations great writer,.
Vice City Fort Baxter Air base June 17, 1986
Henry Mcdough lay nestled in his little guard tower it was about twenty feet in the air. Inside was a desk, a chair and of course a gun rack with an M-4 and some other military rifles stacked upon it. He sat facing the road. It would'nt matter even if he was facing to the floor it was pitch black except for the spotlight occasionally cutting threw the darkness. It was like any normal night at Baxter. The night air was humid and the monitor was green. Which means to us nothing important had escaped. Henry was nodding over an issue of Vice Life and listening to VCPR. The usual stuff, nothing that really seemed to matter. Every few seconds he would lower the magazine to look at the monitors. A couple of Scientists working, others eating in the cafe. To bad the cafe was 20 feet below Sea level , because Henry was sure Hungry. He upped the magazine and began reading an article about car theft. He did'nt know how long he was indulged in the little snipit of information he was somewhere between the first paragraph and the the third when a loud banging came from the glass plate windows that surrounded him. He looked up suddenly it was Jones he looked scared as hell. " Mcdough!" he looked like a ghost he was so white and shaky. At first Henry did not answer he was to scared. "Henry!, open up man!" he banged harder". "Okay!" henry threw his magazine down and reached over his long desktop for a silver key dispensed in an ashtray with assorted paper clips and rubber bands. When his hand froze, right there as plain as day the meter was flashing red, his breath became fast and hard. He looked at the other ones the scientists where dying. Somewhere coughing up blood others where spasming on the floor and some had already begun to go into what they called Mcarthur stage. He slowly pulled his hand away from the ashtray. "What are you doing!" Jones screamed "let me the hell in before they tare me aparararararat" he said while furiously shaking the glass panel. Henry reached behind his back and grabbed his service pistol on the table. He brought it around and cocked it. His face stayed calm and stern with some hint of fear as his hand steadily shook. "Jones now, now you know i can't do that" he said pointing the gun at Jones chest.
Henry began to notice somethings about Private Mike Jones he did'nt notice before. For one thing he had a bullet wound in his hand and some stab wounds on his belly. Probably given to him by some people suffering from the McArthur stage. "Henry, henry, hennnry!" Jones said crying and shaking his head. "Now calm down!" henry made a lowering movments with both hands "Just tell me what happen. "Well I was guarding the elevator and, and.." his face muscles contorsed as he held back a cry "they what?" Henry said eagerly. "When all of a sudden the elevator came up and they came out. There where about six of em they all had clubs and where foaming at the mouth" he said with some hightened fright. "Okay well it's over now where are they?". Jones held back a few more cries. Thats the thing their not dead. "What?" Henry said with some disbeleif. "You see they" Jones spun around with his finger out. When all of a sudden a bullet came whissing threw the night air and threw his chest. he fell down. "Jones!" Henry screamed getting up and looking over the window sill. Yep he was dead. The noise of gun fire and intense sneezing and coughing could be heard from all directions in the darkness. Henry could'nt tell who was who. He gulped and looked over to a red switch that when hit would make lock down mode intial. It would stop the infected from escaping but it would stop his escape. He twitched uneasy he was thinking when a couple of gun shots pierced the window. It just missed him. It was pistol fire. Good! Henry thought the armory must be locked. He grabbed the M-4 0ff the wall and smacked a 30 round clip into it, then he put on his M-P helmet, he was ready to go down fighting.
He got up and cautiously looked out the window. The spot light was panning across the cement air field. When he caught a glimpse of a pile of dead bodies and some ravenous looking people firing in all directions. Suddenly a cold fear struck him like a cold blade into a warm body. The people where hacking really bad and falling over. Their bodies could'nt handle the germ. Henry knew that if he did'nt get out now then the brass on the other end of town where going to see something wrong and do lock down themselves. Or in other words do Henry's job for him. It was now or never as he swung open the trap door between his legs and descended the steps. It only took him about a minute to get to the gate. The bridge was open and the guard in the booth was dead. As Henry ran past the body he could see that someone had blown his head off. The person lay slumped over the controls. Henry made it to the street when he heard the solid steel gate slam down.
Henry did'nt even look back he just ran north. He stopped every once and a while to spit up flem and blood.
Yes in only fifteen minutes, Fort Baxter Air Base home to two hundred recruits was now Fort Baxter Tomb home to two hundred dead.
And thats the begging of the end.
Authors Note: I know I don't own it so please review and tell me what you think don't tell me it sounds like The Stand I know! I am sorry to have to do this but I tried doing something similar I put one disclaimer at the top. But still some few Jack asses sended me emails telling me I copied So and So!. Please review