Archive for July, 2008

Confederate States of Australia - Epilogue

Wednesday, July 30th, 2008

The city howled with an icy wind. Two figures huddled as they made their way along the cracked bitumen. Being careful to step over the spots where green vibrant grass had pushed through.

The taller figure, a man, walked with purpose. He knew where he was going. Suddenly the smaller figure, a young girl, broke off and ran to a vine covered wall. She ran her hand over it and shot a confused look at the man.

"Why is the rock flat?"
The man laughed. "It's concrete." The confused look remained. "Someone made it."
"Oh."  She tugged at the greenery, then went back to running her hand over it.
"Come on."

The man  picked her up and walked further along the street, they turned a corner and it opened up on a courtyard. He dropped her on the ground and stared out over a thin, rusted railing. He could see the grey ocean churning in the distance and he was lost in his head for a long time.

"Dad?" The little girl asked, nervously.
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"Where are all the people?"
"Long gone I think."
"where'd they go?"
"I'm not sure."
"So we're safe?"
"Yeah."

He felt her small hand grip his tightly. She didn't like being here at all.

"You want to go?"
She nodded yes.

They turned around and began heading back the way they came.

"Where are the animals?"
"They've been gone even longer than the people."
"So no cows?"
He laughed again. "No, honey. No cows." He looked down at his daughter. "You like cows, huh?"
"Yeah. Rory doesn't like cows though. He's says they're dumb and they smell."

They were picking their way through the grassy patches near the edge of the city again. The girl lifted her arms up. The man grabbed them and threw her up onto his shoulders.

"I wouldn't want to live in a place without cows."
"Me neither, kiddo. Me neither."

Monday, July 28th, 2008

The Grammar Cheat Sheet. I know a few people that should read this.

Confederate States of Australia - We’re Not Fighters

Saturday, July 26th, 2008

There was no time to waste.

As promised, Abdul had left the farm before dawn, but not before passing on a warning: They knew where he was and they were coming. "They" of course were the adults. Yakov called in the three oldest kids, plus Pietra. When he'd told them what Abdul had said they just stared at him. Then Pietra began to cry. Yakov hugged her tightly.

Why are they doing this?" She asked between sniffles.
"They're just hungry."
"But so are we."
"I know. Listen to me. I want to you round up everybody around your age. Take them to the barn and lock it from the inside. Bar the door with anything you can find.
"But what about you? You can't even walk!"
"No arguments, Pietra. Go!"

It looked like she was going to cry again, but she ran out of the house before Yakov could be sure. He turned to look at the other three.
"Help me."
"We're not fighters, Yakov," said Evan.
"I know that, but we can't let them take this away from us. We can't go back."
"Then what?" This was Sally.
"We're going to have to learn how to fight. This place is too valuable to lose."

When he thought about it, it had been too easy. The escape from Kilda, the uneventful trip through the badlands, and then finding the farm laid out waiting for them. He wasn't surprised karma had come to collect.

Yakov had clambered onto the roof of the farmhouse for a better look. With his leg the way it was this was the best he could do for their group. Down below he made out pairs of kids hiding and waiting. Sunlight glinted off the pots and pans a few of them had scavenged from the kitchen. Then something else caught his eye. A black mass had begun to form at the top of the ridge. A lump caught in Yakov's throat. There were too many of them.
Get ready!" He shouted. He heard a few sobs in response. The mass was getting closer now and separating into individual figures. At the front of the group he recognised his father.

One of the adults threw a rock through the window and then it was on. The adults swarmed over the farm trampling the newly sown crops. A group of kids ran out and tackled those closest to them. Once the other adults saw the pot dangling from Sean's hand they pounced like wild animals, screaming "We're hungry. You have to feed us."

Other kids ran out from their hiding places swinging in wide arcs in an attempt to ward off the ravenous horde. Yakov saw the carnage below and braced himself on the window sill.
"Stop it! Stop it all of you!" Hans pulled a woman off the still body of Sean and stared at Yakov through sad eyes.
"Oh no," she cried, "What have I done."
The kids quickly formed a wall between the adults and Sean.
"Get out of here. Just go."

Confederate States of Australia - Yakov Leads! (Sort of)

Monday, July 21st, 2008

They trekked for days through the burnt detritus that encircled their former home. Rain poured down from the dark grey sky soaking each child through to the bone. Morale was low and more than once members of their little band had given up and turned back.

They further they went the less inclined they were to idle chatter. Yakov could sense a full scale mutiny approaching if they didn't find Eden soon, but the constant rain was making it hard for him to get his bearings.

It was only through sheer luck that, early one evening, he found a path through the blackened landscape to the green-hilled utopia beyond. He grabbed Pietra and gave a loud whoop. The children rolled out onto the sodden grass laughing and cheering. Pietra watched them for a moment then turned to Yakov.
"Where's the farm, Yakov?" He scanned the unfamiliar horizon, pointed in an arbitrary direction and replied, "Umm...that way."

The group marched all night through the wet grass. Without cover Yakov didn't want to risk them staying out in the open exposed to anything. And anyone. As morning broke they crested a small rise and looked out on to acres of graded land and beyond that: a large farmstead.
"Wow," gasped Evan, the brother of Yakov's previous travelling companion.
"Race you!" shouted another as he took off down the slope. The other kids launched themselves down the hill towards the farmhouse. Yakov stood watching them all until his sister tugged at his arm and said "Come on, Yakov. You don't want to be the rotten egg!"  He laughed and raced her down. Careful to let her pull ahead and win at just the right moment.

*****

Yakov and a few of the others spent the whole morning doing an inventory of the farm. The previous owners had left the place in relatively good condition, but they'd taken almost all the food. In a crawlspace - so small that only the youngest boy could fit - they found a stash of aluminium cans, the labels long since faded; a Tupperware container filled with seeds and a dusty leather journal. In the front of the journal Yakov found a folded piece of paper, a checklist for getting the farm up and running again. The seeds, the journal told him, were wheat, or would be once they'd weeded the field and sown them. He looked up to see Pietra and two of the younger girls walk past munching on handfuls of blackberries.
"We found a bush," she said, matter-of-factly.

Surely it couldn't be this easy? He thought to himself.

He organised a few of the older kids into groups to help him work through the checklist. There was a well somewhere nearby that they would need and with the rain stopped and the sun out they could begin to clean up the field. Pietra, ever helpful, put together her own group to help pick the rest of the blackberries.

Friday, July 18th, 2008

How to Draw the Venture Bros. Part 2 and Part 3. I can't draw to save myself, but I might give this a go. See how well I can butcher the character designs.