Inside the infection

Keep going if you can, I wonder where this'll go.
Some rules:
1. No mention of ATS, it ruins a story.
2. No mention of us as writers, this is fiction,
I want this to be a good story that actually goes somewhere.
3. One main character, many main characters ruin a story, it's hard
on the reader to follow what's going on. You can add secondary characters though,
as long as there's around 2-5 of them and they are routinely mentioned. You have to be coherent in a story, you can't just start ignoring a character for no reason.
4. Follow the style and story, don't add random stuff for no reason,
and if you do, explain in detail as to the relevance of why this event
happens in the story. What I don't want is everyone to add random
stuff, ending up in a story that has gone from having one theme, to being
incomprehensible with many themes.

Good luck.


Chapter 1

It was a dark night, there were no lights anywhere. Izat figured that it was
due to another power outage. The government had a tendency of cutting power
as a way to make the population afraid. Following a principle of, the evil
freedomfighter/terrorists are gonna get you, follow us and you'll be safe, the government commited many events designed to frighten the public into total obedience. So it wasn't unusual, Izat got used to it. Besides, it's not like he cared. He was old school, burning candles, a small inferno in the fireplace, a pack of beer on the table, yeah, he was comfortable. He was a 25 year old man with a good built. He wasn't fat, nor was he skinny, he was well fed, let's put it at that. He was sitting in a couch next to the fire place with a beer in his left hand and a pencil in his right. He usually wrote on a computer, but since the power was out, he would have to do it the old fashioned way, on a paper under candle light. He lived alone in a condo. The building itself had two households, one on the right and one on the left. Izat lived on the left. As he finished his beer, a knock could be heard on his front door. He gently deposited his bottle back into the 24 and started to walk calmly towards the door. As he got there, he got a weird feeling, as if something important happenned. He brushed it off his thoughts, it was insignificant, such useless stress wouldn't do anything but annoy him. As he approached the door, he looked into the tiny hole. It was a recognisable face, Izat turned the mechanisms on his door and openned it. It was Detritus, his good friend. (For those who laugh at my secondary character being named excrement, it is intentional).
"They turned off the lights, and I got bored, so I decided to come over." Izat closed the door as his friend came in. Detritus took his shoes off.
"You do know that you ran a risk? Are you forgetting that we're passed curefew? If the night patrol spotted you, you'd be risking a negative on your profile, a few of those and you know what happens." Izat looked straight in his friends eyes in a caring stare, Detritus on the other hand was defiant.
"Don't be commenting on obvious things like my parents, I know damn well the risks, I even took into account the many cameras positioned everywhere, I made sure to wear good camouflaged clothing." He indeed was, if a pair of sunglasses, a scarf rapped around his mouth and a hood over his head is considered camouflage.
Izat walked back to his couch, looking back as he pointed to a bounch of slipers.
"Put those on, you won't be cold."

Since no one is adding anything... I guess I'll keep going a bit.

Detritus did as ordered and followed his friend into the living room.
He sat on the opposite side of the couch and went for the 24. Izat mimicked his friend's actions, both now had beers in their hands.
"So, how did the leaflet spreading go?" Izat started.
"Well, after I spread like 6, someone rated me out and I had to outrun a footpatrol. Besides that, nothing new." Detritus took a sip from the bottle and put it on the table. He took his glasses and hood off, the scarf was already put away when he was undoing his shoes.
"Nice little night we have here, I think we should do something." Detritus begun.
"Like what? Assault a night watchmen?" Izat grinned.
"Sure, We'll show those bastards a lesson." Izat was in disbelief.
"Are you crazy!? Those guys cary 50,000 volt tazers, batons, guns, and they have bulletproof vests with helmets, there's no way we'd get out of there alive." Detritus drank more of his beer, whiped his mouth and begun a new.
"We'll make molotovs."
"And if we miss? I have horrible aim when it come to throwing."
"We'll make many then, out of here bottles, you got rags and a full gas tank for your landmower?" Izat looked at his companion, considering the plan, but he was cautious.
"Listen, I know we're living in a dictatorship, but you can't just go out and start attacking cops, it's suicide." Detritus looked at his friend with a serious look.
"Got a better plan? I'm tired of living under a corporate dictatorship. You took me this far, I even accepted the national ID card, but this is beyond man, they're forcingly chipping people now, we have to do something. And don't give me that crap, oh, we'll do something soon. No man, we've been saying that for years now, it's time. Now is the time. We've wasted enough time already, and we even let them do so much. Cameras everywhere, cops with machineguns everywhere, curefews, deportation to concentration camps, we have to act, Jesus ain't coming to save us, we gotta save ourselves." Izat looked at his friend with unease and answered after a few moments of thought.
"You're right, we gotta do something..."

[edit on 8-12-2006 by Radekus]

[edit on 8-12-2006 by Radekus]

Detritus fumbled with the radio equipment assembled on the floor of the squalid room. "They keep picking up the frequencies. We have to change it every 40 seconds now. We've arranged to transmit a algorithm that will act as a code so the others can pick it up." He grinned like a wild man. "Then it's back to signalling, we'll be lining up like girl guides playing semaphore."

Izzat groaned inwardly, always a game to Detritus. Nothing scared him, except maybe the possibilty of having to do this for much longer. "We can't stay in the city much longer." Izzat ventured, "They've wired the sewers and they're using nano-techs to hunt down the stragglers. We've got to get as many as possible and get out."

"You get out." Detritus flashed, suddenly angry. Always unpredictable, a regular bezerker; Detritus' face flushed with rage. "Everyone I cared about is dead."

"Listen Izat" exclaimed Detritus after calming down a bit, "They're changing the curfew again next week. They are knocking it forward two hours! TWO HOURS!" Detritus was starting to get upset again. "I've been working with Donatello and Stroli up at the Muskrat Range Bowling Alley. They've come up with a plan to distribute the word to the entire masses. They want me and you to help. It's dangerous, we could get hurt. We could die Izat, but the plan sounds secure. They have some inside people. They're adamant about their trustworthiness. " "I don't know Detritus." I said a bit shocked, "How long have you been dealing with Donatello and his bunch? You know that death follows them, so tell me how you got involved." "I know, I know, I know Izat...but they convinced me. This is how we change things, this is how we will be able to get our freedom back. Are you with me Izat? Say yes..." with that Detritus gave me his pouty little brother look, so I resigned and asked him, "What's the plan Detritus?"

Detritus took out a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and placed it on the table, pushing it towards his companion. Izat took it in his hand and started to undo it. The paper revealed a building plan with an inscription below it. "Canadian Broadcasting Corporation".
"Where did you get this floor plan?" Izat was surprised at his friend's ressourcefulness, he stared at him awaiting an answer.
"Donatello has contacts here and there, they're not disorganised."
Izat sat there, thinking. Detritus continued. "The plan is simple. Donatello has a few people on the inside, they'll turn off the alarms and open the back doors for us, we'll slip in and split up into 3 teams. Me and you are team one, Donatello and his men form the other..." Izat interrupted.
"How many people does he have?" Detritus finished his beer, put it back in the 24 and took out a new one. "About 6, they're the main attack squad, you know how Donatello likes to pick a fight."
"Yeah, everywhere they go, body bags are found, I'm surprised he and his team haven't been caught yet." Izat seemed uneasy about this plan, he knew where it was going. The Black hand would be there in no time after the first two minutes of transmission, there would be a firefight, they could not survive. And that's considering that they survive the security shootout when they first get there. "How do you propose we proceed?"
Detritus was thinking as he rewinded the tape and played it back again on the transmitter. The signal was designed to be heard by everyone, everyone that knew the frequencies though. To avoid tracking, the signal would hit home dish after home dish, creating too many originating points to be located. It was ingenious. But the algorithms had to be changed none the less, the feds were getting closer everyday. "The feds will take 5 to 10 mintues after initial contact, team B and C are to be gurading the two point of entry, the back and front, not long after helping us clear the building of course. Donatello is the leader of team B, Stroli is gonna lead team C. As they take up their positions, we're gonna go through with the transmission. I predict that we'll reach well over 20 million households. Since all television sets turn on by themselves when there is a big announcment, we'll use that emergency broadcasting system to spread out our message." Izat was silent.
He wet his lips and started to speak. "This is a suicide plan." He said simply. Before Detritus could answer, Izat spoke again. "I guess it's time to dig up those guns we burried years ago isn't it?"

Detritus sat on a chair reviewing the plan in his head. He tried to listen to the radio but his butterflies took control and he was back in the chair. This time he cleaned his assault rifle. It was perfect just like before when he cleaned it the first time. This was indeed a suicide mission, and one he planned on comming out of. He had a back up plan, with papers that he could easily get a hold of should he need them. Should the need arise he could be on a steamer to Brazil before the dust had even settled. He could be drinking drinks with umbrella's in them before the feds even caught on.
These thoughts seems to calm him, the seemed to take the edge off. He knew he should be thinking of the others, well at least he stayed for them. He could be long gone except for them. He got up and walked over and swallowed water from a canteen. God that felt good my mouth was so dry, he thought to himself before sitting back down. He was just about half way throught the plan when Izat enterer and spat an order, " It's a go...Were on. Come on get the lead out".

[edit on 21-2-2007 by Royal76]

Credit attributed to Lurch, known as Joseph1837,
he's the author of this piece:


There was a knock at the door. Detritus folded the layout and put it quickly in his pocket, Izat walked to the door.
He look through the peep hole and saw a familiar face. He unlocked the door and open it.
''It's been a long time,’’ said Izat.
''Can I come in'', said john.
Izat waved him in. John was 22 years old, he was also a well build, 6'.5'' man.
''Hey Detritus, look who's here.'' said Izat while closing the door. Detritus looked toward the door and said ''Holly #! Were have you been John?'' John put down his duffel bag, and took off his combat boots. '' I’ve been in Afghanistan for 6 years.'' said John wile putting his boots beside the door and then picking up his backpack, helmet and C7 carbine rifle. ''I was sent over there to help re-build. Instead, I watched the locals and my Unit get there asses blown to pieces by coalition air strikes.'' John walked to the living room. He put his backpack, helmet and C7 carbine rifle beside the wall then, picked up a beer, and sat down on a chair.
''How did you survive this long?'' said Detritus, sitting down on a couch.
''I lived with the locals, moved house to house, village to village.'' said John. Izat walk back, pickup his beer and sat back down I his seat, he took a sip of his beer and said '' how did you get back?''
'' I stole a beat up car and drove back to the Kandahar base. Where, they told me that they thought I was dead, that my house and the whole block was bulldozed, to make way for a detention center. And for surviving for 6 years, they promoted me to sergeant, put me on a plane for home and here I am.'' John took a sip of his beer and said ''so, what have you guys been up to?''.


[edit on 10-3-2007 by Radekus]

Izat looked at his friend in the eyes, then looked away and walked towards the closet. "We're pressed for time John" He took out a shovel and handed it to Detritus. "We need to dig those crates out of the ground and prepare for tomorrow's onslaught. We're going to be freeing "ennemy combatants" from a detention centre later if we pull this thing off." Deritus got up and took the shovel from Izat's hands. He walked towards the back door of the house. "You still remember where we burried them?" He asked. "Dig near the pathway made out of rocks, near the tree." Detritus nodded and openned the back door, only to realise he was missing a flashlight. Izat knew it by looking at his friend's facial expression. He looked once again in the closet, pulled out a flashlight, and threw it towards his friend. The door closed, only two people were now present in the house.

"Pull what thing off" John asked.
Izat sat down on the couch, John followed his move.
"We're gonna raid a television studio, and broadcast our message.
It's gonna get bloody, hope you're with us." John always knew something like this would happen eventually, his experience overseas would be greatly appreciated in this fight. Izat started to explain the plan when the back door openned. "Guys, someone hold the damn flashlight, I ain't digging like this, and for crying out loud, don't sit aroun and drink beer, help me damn it!" With that, both Izat and John got up and walked towards the back yard.