EARTH’S SURVIVORS: APOCALYPSE PUBLISHED BY: Dell Sweet

EARTH’S SURVIVORS: APOCALYPSE

PUBLISHED BY: Dell Sweet

Earth’s Survivors: Apocalypse is © Copyright 2014 Wendell Sweet, all rights reserved.

 

Additional Copyrights © 2010 – 2012, 2014, 2015 by Wendell Sweet, All rights reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author



The following material is copyright protected and is used here with the authors express permission

The following material is not edited for content and is rated 18+



BLUECHIP

The facility stretched for more than five miles underground. Most of that was not finished space, most of that was connector tunnels, and storage space bored from the rock. The facility itself was about three thousand feet under the city of Watertown in a section of old caves that had been enlarged, concrete lined and reinforced. The rest area was one of several entrances that led into the complex. An old farm on the other side of Watertown, an abandoned factory in the industrial park west of the city and a few other places, including direct connections from secure buildings on the nearby base.

John Pauls and Sammy Black had Alpha clearance. Both were ex-military, but most likely military clearance was no longer a real matter of concern this late in the game, Sammy thought as they made their way down the wide hallway. The word coming down to those in the know was that in the next twenty-four hours the human race would come very close to ceasing to exist at all. No confirmation from anyone official, but regular programming was off air, the news stations were tracking an asteroid that may or may not hit the Earth. The best opinions said it didn’t matter if it hit or not, it would be a close enough pass that there would be massive damage. Maybe the human race would be facing extinction. The government was strangely silent on the subject. And that had made him worry even more. The pass was estimated to be right over the tip of south America. So maybe formalities like Alpha clearance weren’t all that important any longer, if only Michael Bliss had given that some thought before he had pissed him off.

The halls were silent, nearly empty. Gloss white panels eight feet high framed it. It had always reminded Black of a maze with its twists and turns. Here and there doors hung open. Empty now. Always closed any other time he had been down here. So it had come this far too, Black thought. He stopped at a door that looked like any other door and a split second later the door rose into the ceiling and Major Weston waved them in.

Alice, he had never learned her last name, sat at her desk, her eyes on them as they walked past her. One hand rested on the butt of a matte black .45 caliber pistol in a webbed shoulder holster that was far from Army issue, and Sammy had no doubt she would shoot them both before they could even react. Alice was etched into one of those name pins that the Army seemed to like so well, but oddly, just Alice, no last name, rank or anything else. She wore no uniform, just a black coverall. The kind with the elastic ankle and wrist cuffs. No insignia there either. He had noticed that months before. Her eyes remained flat and expressionless as they passed her desk.

“Alice,” Sammy said politely. She said nothing at all, but she never did.

“Sit down, boys,” Major Weston told them. He spoke around the cigar in his mouth. Dead, but they were always, and there was never the smell of tobacco in the office. They took the two chairs that fronted the desk.

The Major was looking over a large monitor on the opposite wall that showed the north American continent. This map showed small areas of red, including the northern section where they were. The rest of the map was covered with green. “Where we are, and where we need to be, “ he said as he pushed a button on his desk. The monitor went blank. He turned to face the two.

“So here is where we are. You know, as does most of the world, that we are expecting a near miss from DX2379R later on tonight.” He held their eyes.

John shrugged. “I’ve been doing a little job, must have missed that. It’s not gonna take us out is it?”

“Saw that on the news a few days back. Guess we dodged a bad one,” Sammy said.

“Right… Right,” Weston said quietly. “But that cover was nothing but bullshit.”

“It’s going to hit us?” John asked.

“Maybe… The fact is that we don’t know. One group says this, another group says that, but it doesn’t matter because it will probably kill us off anyway. Direct hit, near miss, it is going to tip over an already bad situation with the Yellowstone Caldera.” He raised his eyes, “Familiar with that?”

“Yellowstone park?” Sammy said.

John nodded in agreement.

Weston laughed. “Put simply, yes. Yellowstone has always been an anomaly to us. Back in 1930 the Army did an exploratory survey of that area. What we came up with was that there was a section of the Rocky Mountains missing. Looked at from the top of Mount Washburn it was easy for the team to see that the largest crater of an extinct volcano known to exist lay before them.”

“I guess that’s about what I thought,” Sammy agreed.

“Yeah. We all think that. Except it is not true at all because the Yellowstone caldera is not extinct, it is active. Active and about to pop. There have been several warnings, but we took the recording stations off line quite some time ago, so there has been no mention of it in the news. Budget cuts,” he shrugged. “So everyone is focused on this asteroid that may or may not hit us and instead this volcanic event is going to blow up and when that happens the rest won’t matter at all.” He clicked the button on his desk and the monitor came to life. “All the red areas are spots where the surface pressure has increased. There was, at one time, many active volcanoes on the north American continent.” He clicked a button and the map changed to a view of the European continent with many of the same red shaded areas.

“All over the Earth… Higher pressures. Up until a few days ago the brainiacs were still arguing over whether this could even happen.” He laughed. “It is happening and they are arguing over whether it can happen. Well, we had our little debates and then we realized that history shows clearly that this has happened before. Several times. Call it the Earth’s way of cleansing itself.”

“But it’s not an absolute, right?”Sammy asked.

“Don’t start sounding like the scientists.” He reached below his desk and came up with six small silver canisters. Each had a small red button mounted on the top with a protective cap over the button itself. He clicked a button on his desk, and a picture of destruction appeared on the screens. It was obviously an aerial shot, looking down at a chain of islands. Smoke hung over the chain, reaching as high as the plane itself. As the plane dropped lower, rivers of red appeared. “That picture is an hour old. That is… Was, the Hawaiian chain.”

Sammy twisted further to the side, staring at the monitor. “How can that be… I mean everyone would know about it.” He turned back to Weston.

Weston nodded. “And that would be true except the satellites are out because of the asteroid. Shut down to avoid damage. That is the official word.” He clicked the button on his desk and the monitor went dead once more. “I started this out saying that none of it matters and that is true. The Yellowstone caldera is going to erupt sometime in the next few days. Not a maybe, not an educated guess, if the satellites were up you would know that the park is closed, it has already started. We have had a few quakes, but the big stuff is on the way. He rolled the canisters across the desktop; Sammy and John caught them.

“Super volcanoes… Earthquakes that modern civilization has never seen… The last super eruption was responsible for killing off the human population some seventy-four thousand years ago. Reduced it to a few thousand. And that is not the biggest one we have evidence of.” He lifted his palms and spread them open, sighing as he did. “So it is a double whammy. If we survive the asteroid the volcanoes get us, or the earthquakes because of them, or we’ll die from injuries. And I think those of us who die outright will be lucky. The rest of us will have a hard time of it… Staying alive with nothing… We will probably all starve to death.” He paused in the silence.

“Those canisters are a compound developed for the armed forces. Project Super Soldier. SS for short. That kept people from looking too deep, they assumed it was something to do with the Nazi youth movement here and abroad. We let that misconception hold.” He waited a second for his words to sink in. “SS is designed to prolong life past the normal point of termination. It allows a soldier to survive longer without food and more importantly without water. Does something to the cells of the host, I don’t pretend to know what. What I do know is that the people above me made the decision to release this…” He picked up a mug of coffee from the desk and sipped deeply. His eyes were red road maps, Sammy noticed now. Like he hadn’t slept in a few days.

“So this is it for us. I guess you realize that you probably won’t get paid for this. No money is going to show up in your account. I will run it through before I pull the plug, but I truly believe the machinery will be dead by the time payday rolls around. So this is something I’m asking you to do.” He pointed to the canisters that both men were looking over. Sammy held his as though it might bite him.

“Those babies are really all we have to hope with. Most people will die outright. They will never make it past the quakes, eruptions, and the resulting ash clouds and gases. Up here we should be okay as far as gases go, eruptions, but there are fault lines that crisscross this area. This whole facility is bored from limestone caverns. Probably won’t make it through the quakes, although it is a good eighty miles from the closest line,” he shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. My point is there should be a good chance for survivors here.”

“So we do what with these? Can they harm us?” John asked.

“Harm you, kill you? No, but you will be infected the minute you push that button. It will protect you the same as anyone else. There is enough in a single canister to infect about five hundred million people,” Weston said quietly.

“Whoa,” Sammy whistled. “Why infect… Why not inoculate? And why six canisters… Three Billion people?”

“Minimum three billion. That is before those infected pass it along themselves, after a while it won’t matter. As to the question of infected, this is a designer virus. You catch it just like the flu. We infected whole platoons by releasing it in the air over them. One hundred percent infection rate. Be glad they decided on this. They have some others that will kill everybody in the world in a matter of days.” Weston nodded at the raised eyebrows that greeted his remarks. “I don’t doubt that the merits of which way to go were debated hotly,” he finished gravely.

“The virus is designed to live within the host, but it can live outside of the host. It can stay alive in a dead body for days, even if the body is frozen. In fact that just freezes the virus too. Once the body is thawed it will infect any living person that comes along. So those,” he pointed to the silver canisters, “are overkill. Same stuff is being released across the globe. Great Briton… Germany… Australia… West coast just a few hours ago. Manhattan has already been done, all the East coast in fact. I want the two of you to head out from here.  One vial here, then one of you head west, the other south. Go for the bigger cities… Water supplies… Reservoirs… Release it in the air or water, it doesn’t matter. There are men heading out from the south, the west coast…” He rose from the desk. “I’ll see you out.” He turned to Alice. “Alice… Pack us up.” Alice nodded as Sammy and John got to their feet, but her hand remained on the butt of the pistol. Rubber grips, Sammy noticed as he passed her.

“Alice,” he said.

“Um hmm,” Alice murmured.

Sammy nearly stopped in his tracks, but managed to hide his surprise as he passed by into the hallway. The Major fished two sets of keys from his pocket. “Parked in the back lot. A couple of plain Jane Dodge four-bys. Drive ’em like you stole ’em. Leave ’em where you finish up. Hell keep ’em if you want ’em. Nobody is going to care.”

The three stood in the hallway for a few seconds longer. Sammy’s eyes locked with the Major’s own, and he nodded. The major walked back into his office, and the door rose from its pocket behind him. Quiet, except the slight buzzing from the fluorescent lights.

John shrugged as his eyes met Sammy’s, waiting.

Sammy sighed. “You heard the man… West or south?”

“Flip for it?” John asked. His mouth seemed over dry and he licked his lips nervously.

Sammy pulled a quarter from his pocket and flipped it into the air. “Call it, Johnny.”

“Tails,” John said just before the quarter hit the carpet.

Sammy bent forward. “Tails it is. You got it, Johnny.”

John looked down at the carpet. “West, I guess.” John said.

Sammy nodded, looked down once more at the quarter and then both men turned and walked away toward the elevator that would take them back to the surface.



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A free look at Zombie from Dell Sweet…

A free look at Zombie from Dell Sweet…


ZOMBIE

Copyright 2017 Dell Sweet all rights reserved.

Cover Art © Copyright 2017 Dell Sweet

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author’s permission. Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.


This material is copyright protected and is used here with permission

This material is NOT edited for content



THREE

I flexed my hand and looked around the kitchen in the flickering candle light. Writing about it is bringing it all back, like I’m right back there. Lana’s rifle and two spare clips lay on the table top now. I haven’t needed it yet, but the night is young. Who can tell what it will be like in a few hours from now when the light is entirely gone: When all the dead wake in the old barn across the road. My rifle is also loaded, but I have less ammunition for it and it isn’t worth a damn up close. Lana was a lot smarter about weapons than I was… Much smarter.

It’s so goddamn quiet. I hate that. That quiet. These bastards don’t breath, they don’t trip and fall, they aren’t clumsy… You would never know they are there, never know it at all.  Jesus, I… Never mind. My mind wanders too much. Too goddamned much. I’ll be back…

I took a walk around. Upstairs I can still see a faint line of sunlight on the far horizon. The yard is dark. I can’t hear any more sounds. It’s unnerving. The boards are all in place, everything seems secure. I’m back at the table…

The cramping is gone from my hand. I guess in the digital age we just don’t write much, but when it’s all you got, it’s all you got. The whiskey is holding out. I’m being careful with it, don’t worry, not that it will make a bit of difference…

We had passed a sign and entered into Arizona. We made great time on the open road…

ARIZONA

The country had been turning more arid as they drove, the river was an oasis. Off to the north giant plumes of smoke blanketed the sky, seeming to spread across the entire length of the horizon. They had both wondered what it might be. Lana had checked the map and she though it could be Yellowstone or something close to Yellowstone.

Shops, stores, and even an RV park had sprung up around the interchange. They foraged for food in the late afternoon and gassed up the truck before evening began to take the sunlight. The air had a bitter, hot smell to it, the river flowed sluggishly, the water gray, and a scum of yellow white foam and ash rode the slow current. They sat in the truck and ate quietly while the map lay open across their legs and the seat top. Their eyes would drop to the map and then jump back up to scan the area. It had seemed too quiet, and there were no bodies anywhere. No sign of life either, and the stores and shops had not been looted. Some were still locked up. Empty RV’s in the park when they rolled slowly through it. Neither liked the feeling, the whole place felt wrong.

“Johnny,” Lana waited until his eyes left the map and met her own. He lifted them to follow her own gaze. “The silver building over to the right. The door just opened and then closed.”

Johnny frowned. “Not something the dead would do, is it?”

“We didn’t think they would come out in the daylight,” Lana said.

As Johnny watched he saw the door edge open slightly and then close just as slowly. “Saw it… I don’t like it. Dead or alive they know we’re here and they’re checking us out.” He dropped his eyes back to the map.

“Okay,” he said after a few moments. “Lets get off the road, run a ways out… Follow the highway. That takes us away from civilization to a degree, but eventually that will bring us into Phoenix.” He waited for her to nod her understanding. “There’s a lot of desolation between here and there, at least on the map.”

“Desolation is fine as long as the dead aren’t there.” Lana said quietly.

“Less likely to be,” Johnny agreed.

A few minutes later they were running through the desert that ran alongside I 10. There were not a great many cars or trucks there, but in several places there had been wrecks that closed lanes down. With no one to clear them they would have ended up in the desert anyway. And there seemed to be a dirt road that ran beside I 10 for as far as they could see.

The landscape in the distance had been changing as they drove the day away, but with the sun setting a few hours after they set out once more it was hard to tell what the surrounding countryside was like. Johnny dropped speed and flicked the trucks high beams on. A short while later Lana was sleeping, her head heavy against his arm. He drove through the night and into the early morning before she woke again.

August 14th

Johnny had eased the truck up onto I10 and the tires bouncing over the broken asphalt had awakened Lana.

“Not a big city… A town from the looks of it. Phoenix is close. Ten, fifteen miles maybe. Can’t really tell from the map,” Johnny said. A gas station loomed out of the early morning gray and Johnny wheeled the truck under the roof that covered the pumps intending to siphon some gas to top off the trucks tanks. He shut off the motor and they both listened to the tick of the hot metal for a few seconds as it cooled.

“Coffee would be really nice,” Lana said. “No way do we want to go into Phoenix… Too dangerous.” She yawned and then covered her mouth and laughed. “Mal aliento, dios… Morning breath.” She zipped open her knapsack, retrieved a bottle of water, her toothbrush and some toothpaste. She stepped down from the truck.

Johnny opened his door and settled his feet onto the pavement. It wasn’t just old pavement, he saw, it was gray, washed out, used up: There was no black left in it. Lana stood slightly in front of the truck, her gun in one hand, the toothbrush working around her mouth on its own. In a blur her free hand was reaching to catch the rifle which was just coming free of her shoulder. Johnny had his own rifle off his shoulder and into his hands before he even saw what had alarmed her. She spit out the toothbrush, pulled her gun and flicked the safety off. Three men stepped out of the shadows of the open garage bay.

They were kids, Johnny saw. Or at least not much more than kids. They walked slowly forward.

Lana raised the rifle and pointed it at the lead kid. “That’s it.” She said.

She didn’t scream it, softly spoke it, Johnny thought later, but the kids stopped in their tracks.

“What’s with the fuckin’ guns?” The lead kid asked.

“Ours weren’t aimed at you until you aimed yours at us,” Johnny said. He hoped he sounded as cool as Lana had.

“Bullshit,” one of the other kids said. “You had it in your hands when I looked at you. That’s why I got mine ready.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone today,” Lana said.

“It really don’t bother me,” The third kid said. His eyes were blood shot. They had interrupted him while he was sleeping, it seemed. He kept rubbing at his eyes, Lana saw.

“I think you’re right… Can’t matter if you’re dead,” Lana said.

“Hey,” the lead kid said, “Maybe all’s we want is to party a little.”

“Well I don’t know if Johnny swings that way,” Lana said.

“Pretty funny,” the kid responded. “Look… It’s our town. We ain’t the only ones here. You shoot there will be twenty more here in seconds. Then everybody dies.”

“Oh… I guess I didn’t see it right,” Lana said. “I can see where it might be preferable to get raped and then murdered instead of getting murdered outright.”

The one in the back, the one with the sleepy eyes, stiffed a yawn and reflexively raised one hand to his mouth as his eyes slipped shut for a split second. Lana shot the lead kid in that split second, Johnny had the second guy a moment later. The third kid opened his eyes to a changed situation.

“Just give me a reason,” Lana said. “Any reason.” The kid released the rifle he held and it dropped from his hands to the pavement.

“Can’t shoot me I ain’t got no gun… Can’t… Can’t shoot me…” He spun and looked off toward a rag tag collection of trailers that lined a dirt road in back of the station. “James!” he screamed. “James! Killers!” he turned back to Johnny and Lana. “Can’t shoot me… I ain’t armed… Can’t…” Johnny shot him…



Zombie: Two survivors set out looking for others during the apocalypse

 

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0759TD7XK

 

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Zombie-Dell-Sweet/dp/1549650246



 

THE ZOMBIE PLAGUES LINKS From Geo Dell

THE ZOMBIE PLAGUES LINKS From Geo Dell



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The Zombie Plagues, book Two: The living have fallen only to rise again as the living dead…

Geo Dell: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-zombie-plagues-book-two/id712828153?mt=11


 

The Zombie Plagues Book Three: Humanity is on the move, fleeing death, or maybe running headlong to death…

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The Zombie Plagues Book Four: The Outrunners are formed. A ragtag band of survivors who make it their mission to fight the dead…

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The Zombie Plagues Box set: The First five books… He came awake in the darkness, but awake wasn’t precisely the term. Alive was precisely the term

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Geo Dell’s Guitar Works series of manuals 

GUITAR WORKS 1 – 7


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Author Geo Dell’s Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/George-Dell/e/B00T94K198

A short comedic story I wrote to illustrate that you can write about anything at all as long as you invest yourself in it…

A short comedic story I wrote to illustrate that you can write about anything at all as long as you invest yourself in it…


DOGGY DAY AFTERNOON

IN THE SQUAD ROOM:

The detective set the open box of doughnuts down on the table, sighed, and then levered himself back into his cheap, plastic chair.

“Okay… Tell me about the dog…” He reached forward, snagged a doughnut, and began to chew, neatly catching a blob of jelly that burst from the side of the doughnut with one fat finger.

I thought for a moment… “Okay… It was like this…”

HOW MUCH IS THAT DOG CRAP ON THE SIDEWALK:

It was a clear, sunny day. The cracked sidewalk stretched out before me like a yellow bricked road that somehow had escaped coloring. I saw the dog crap on the sidewalk just before I saw the hunched over dog… Plop… Another missive joined the pile. The dog looked up at my widened eyes and grimaced, grunted, then growled.

“What the $%#@,” the dog said. “Never seen a dog take a crap?”

I was momentarily flummoxed. I knew dogs could talk, in fictional writings anyway, but I hadn’t realized that I would meet one on a city sidewalk in the middle of the day. The dog, a Pit Bull breed, straightened up, spun around and looked at the pile of crap, sniffed twice, and then looked  back up at me. I checked his collar. No license. In fact, no collar.

“Hey, Man,” I started. “I mean, Hey, Dog, you got to have a license,” I told him.

“You saying a dog needs a license to take a crap, Mo-Fo?” He walked towards me, stiff legged. I notice that as he talked he teeth seemed to wiggle in his jaw, his words were slightly slurred.

“Uh, well, no… I mean a dog license… A license for a dog.”

“So I need a friggin’ license to be a dog? I can’t just be a dog? Oh, you frickin’ people make me laugh. A damn license to be a dog…” He looked back up at me. He had looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t got no frickin’ license, Mo-…” His eyes flew open as he teeth clattered to the ground. “Fwuck,” he said as they plopped into the pile of crap, broke free and clattered to a stop. “Somawevabeesshh.”

“Ha, Ha ,Ha,” I said before I could think. “Your teeth fell in the…”

He stuffed the teeth back into his jaw, launched himself to his hind legs, and the next thing I knew I was staring down the barrel of a Nine mm pistol.

“Holy crap,” I managed as the dogs paws settled on my chest.

“Holy crap,” The dog mimicked in a high falsetto. He swatted my face with his free paw, and then shoved the gun halfway into my nose. ”Give me your wallet.” I fumbled in my pocket and fished out my wallet, the dog fumbled around, stretched one rear leg up to hold the wallet as the other skimmed through it. He fished my license out and began to look it over.

“Hey, Dog. That’s a drivers License. No good for a dog.” I tried a smile on my face.

“You know,” the dog said, “Smiling means a whole different thing to a dog. An ape, most animals in fact. It’s a sign of aggression.”

I quickly wiped the smile off my face…

HUNGER SPEAKS:

The detective broke in…

“You gonna eat that last doughnut,” he asked?

I looked down and noticed there was only one doughnut left in the box. “Uh, no… Go ahead,” I said.

He reached down and then motioned for me to continue with one white powdered finger.

“Uh.. Yeah… So…

DOGGY TOUGH GUY:

The dog looked over the license (Warning… Scene stolen from Good fellas) “Okay,” The dog said, “You may know who I am, but I know who you are… Where you live.” He looked at me and I nodded. He fished a twenty out of my wallet and handed it to me. “Go get me a license. I’ll be right here waiting.”

THE REST OF IT:

The detective interrupted, talking around the doughnut, bits of clumped up powdered sugar and doughnut flying as he spoke. I winced as I felt a piece hit my lower lip. “So,” he looked down at his notepad, “The City Clerk says you got a license for a Mixed Beagle dog.” He looked back up at me.

“Yeah… See, I figured that way you could find him easier… I mean, how many Pit Bulls are walking around with tags for a Beagle.”

“Uh huh,” The detective said. “Maybe he read it?”

“A dog that can read,” I asked? “That’s pretty hard to believe.”

The detective nodded again… “Okay, So…”

“Yeah, so…”

When I got back from the City Clerks office the dog was waiting. He took the license and the tags and then handed me my wallet back. He took another twenty though for crack. He was a crack-dog.

“Whoa, a Crack-dog,” The detective asked? “Why didn’t you mention that before? How do you know?”

“Um, because he said something like…. “Yo, Man. I need another twenty to buy two tens at the spot.”

The detective nodded and motioned with the now clean finger to go on.

“Well, that’s it. He gave me back my license and told me if I ever told he would come and poop on my lawn everyday… And he threatened to bite me…”

Did he bite you,” The detective asked?

“Well, no, but…”

The detective waved one chubby hand. “No Bite, can’t charge him.”

I looked at him incredulously. “Are you F *$#ing kidding me?”

He frowned. “Watch your goddamn mouth. We got kids around here.”

I looked, but could see no kids. I nodded anyway. “Well… He stole twenty bucks… No, forty bucks…”

The detective shook his head. “Look, how do I know that? You could be making the whole thing up… Dogs bite… You ain’t got no bite, do you?”

“No,” I agreed.

The detective shrugged.

“He pooped on the sidewalk… I saw him.”

“Uh huh, but then he’s a dog. Now if you catch a person doing that…” He shrugged again and looked down at the doughnut box. “Look, I got work to do…. Anything else?”

I shook my head, knowing I was defeated…

BACK IN IT:

As I left the police station I saw the dog two buildings down, standing in the shadows.

“I told you,” The dog yelled. “I warned you!”

As I turned to run, I reminded myself to pick up a poop scooper… And some bags… and some PoliGrip as a peace offering. It was a clear, blue skied day as I raced down the sidewalk running for home, the dog right behind me…



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Rode The Limited words and music Dell Sweet

Rode The Limited words and music Dell Sweet

Rode the limited was a song I wrote about a train ride I took in the early nineties from Alabama to New York. It was an awesome experience and the song is pretty much a microcosm of the trip. There was much more, but the song was already too long so I centered on the things that will probably be with me for life.
The rhythm is finger picked, so it may sound a little odd to you. I play all of my own instruments and I layer the instruments to put the band together.
That is kind of strange since I have a musical family, it’s just that none of us have been able to get together to do something like this. I would love to some day, but chances are I would still run it through my DAW because I would still want to play with the sound.
I use LMMS for a DAW. I use Audacity to record raw tracks and I have it packed with several hundred FX I have collected over the years. I have two mics on booms, and all the live stuff is piped through an 8 channel EQ with phantom power for the mics.

LMMS. Click the image to go to their site or download


Audacity. Click the image to visit their site or download



The drums come from Hydrogen or a program called Chord Pulse. Both are awesome. I write the music out, Chord Pulse can then assemble a band to play it. I record that to a raw MIDI file and both LMMS and Hydrogen Drum Machine can use that information to assemble the music. 

Hydrogen Drum Machine. Click to visit their site or download


Chord Pulse. Click to visit their site or download



At that point I can change any of those MIDI tracks into anything I want. A guitar to organ? Can do. Piano keyboard to a drum beat? Yes. It is awesome, and sometimes I have to stop myself or I’ll spend months putting together a song like I did with A Minor or War at Home.
Hope you enjoy the song…