Category Archives: Sci-fi

Trifextra 35 / Zombie Bunnies – A Cold Burning

On to the weekend challenge. This week we’re again asking you to stand on the shoulders of another writer. But this time that other writer is you. Take one of your former Trifecta or Trifextra 33 word entries and build upon it with another 33 words. If you are new to the challenge you can use a Trifextra entry from one of the other community members, with their permission of course.

The first part, with the prompt, is here: The Setting Sun (Will open in new window). This is Allen’s POV at that same moment.

___________

Isolation shadowed Allen’s departure. His sister, a hostage. His girlfriend, a plot line. His sidekick, too conflicted in loyalties. The clearest relationships were with his enemies. Allen was going to make them closer.

___________

Interested in the Zombie Bunnies story? Keep reading!

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Trifecta 33/ZB 14 – Rack ’em Up

This week; Trifecta has three challenges. This is the second.
Write a 33-333 word response using the third definition of the following word:

score (noun)
3 a : an account or reckoning originally kept by making marks on a tally
b : amount due : indebtedness

Please note that we need you to use the singular, noun form of the word. Also, the word score must appear in your response.

I am looking to get last minute on all three, hopefully I can. I will say that just this one will be ZB-related. Let’s see exactly what Allen had planned…

—————-

As the action unfolded on screens across the country, some viewers cursed disparaging advice from the isolating comfort of living rooms, others cheered him on in taverns, still others shook their heads as he ruined the betting lines. The one thing they shared was the obsession.

Allen had no idea of his ‘following’, and was only acutely aware of his mental abacus clicking away. Staying alive was slightly more important than the score. For now.

He trotted down the street, the barrel of his rifle trailing smoke, his right hand still tingling with the pulse firings. The GPS did its job perfectly; after a quick side trip to his truck, he looked down the street towards a familiar building. Pulling out a pocket mirror, he attempted to reflect the sunlight in its direction. After a moment, he received a similar reply; it didn’t need to be Morse code, and it gave better tidings than a bullet would have. The metal garage door opened slightly, enough to crawl under, and he sprinted directly to it, checking both ways for zombunnies (or traffic). His sense that something was following was confirmed as a bright purple egg bounced at his side and behind. Ignoring it, he skidded under the door and barely felt the explosive concussion as the corrugated metal slammed shut.

* * *

“So, a prodigal son returns,” Echo stated to Allen and the congregation. “We watched the footage of your daring escape earlier and more recent progress here. We’ve refused more recent visitors, but considering your help settling our differences with the Hare Band, you deserved a second chance.”

“I do appreciate it, and…”

“Is this new bravado based on your sister’s ordeal, or your own? It’s become confusing watching both.” Echo gestured to several televisions broadcasting different shows. Allen watched Emma busily working in a lab alongside others, a clock ticking down across the bottom of the screen. On the other screen, Allen watched himself, live, his kills updated in real- time.

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Trifecta XXVI / ZB XI – Heroes and Villians

This Week’s word is:

enig·ma noun \i-ˈnig-mə, e-\

1: an obscure speech or writing
2: something hard to understand or explain
3: an inscrutable or mysterious person

Please remember:
Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
The word itself needs to be included in your response.
You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
Your post must include a link back to Trifecta.
Please submit your post’s permalink, not the main page of your blog. For example: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/03/trifextra-week-eight.html not http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com.

You know what time it is?
Come along and sing the song!
Z-O-M-B-I-E B-U-N-N-Y!

Well our heroic siblings have been rescued, so we can all take a deep breath and relax…

Emma and Allen’s uneventful ride in the helicopter should have been relaxing, but with McMuscles sitting across from them, opening walnuts in his fists (Somehow, he managed to keep the brain shaped nuts intact) they shared an uneasy feeling.

“Where are we going?” Emma asked, after deciding Allen wasn’t going to.

He paused. “Empire Media Headquarters, ETA 10 minutes.”

Allen then spoke up impatiently. “What, are you collecting survivor stories?”

“We brought your father in this morning. Mr. Connar wants you all together.” Crack. End of conversation.

Despite Richard Connar’s public presence (and self- financed documentary), Emma and the general public still saw him as an enigma. Having watched ENN, she doubted his intentions were for some tearjerker reunion footage. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

* * *

They landed on the rooftop helipad as scheduled and were unceremoniously led to a penthouse conference room. Emma noticed the wall sized screen as they entered, broadcasting the neighborhood where they had been only a short time before. Bodies, both human and bunny, were scattered around the area, with gratuitous closeups of the grenade impact zone.

“Yes that’s the aftermath,” Connar announced with no introduction. “We shot your escape, and got another chopper out there making a little extra news for us.”

“Where’s our father?” Allen asked looking around suspiciously. Connar gestured impatiently.

“He’s doing his part, reassuring the public that KillEmAll will end this crisis.” He reached in his pocket and presented a thumb drive. “This information we rescued with him contains data on the project you and your colleagues worked on, Ms Appleby- the one that created the outbreak. Your father’s appeal to save you was more than paternal, thankfully.”

“We’re securing a government-grade laboratory for your use, and will monitor and even broadcast, your progress. Refusal is not an option. Oh and Allen,” he turned and nodded to McMuscles, who unholstered a very large handgun, “Push aside those thoughts of attacking me. We’re only looking for one type of hero right now.”

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Trifecta XXV / ZB X: Get to the Choppa!

The Word of the Week is:
thun•der noun \ˈthən-dər\

1: the sound that follows a flash of lightning and is caused by sudden expansion of the air in the path of the electrical discharge
2: a loud utterance or threat
3: bang, rumble [the thunder of big guns]

Ok Emma and Allen are STILL about to be fed to the bunnies while the cameras are rolling…but wait! A wild helicopter appears!


PJ Appleby jumped from his seat towards the screen. “Emma! Allen!”

Connar turned to him, a curious expression on his face. “You know those two?”

“I know my kids when I see them.” PJ replied evenly.

Connar’s demeanor changed; Appleby doubted his smiles were ever a source of comfort. “Really? Well, that changes things.” He clicked his remote again and sound burst from the speakers on the wall. The thumping of the rotors was in the background. “You hearing us, Murray?”

“Loud and clear,” Murray Bedward, EM Carchase Correspondent, replied.

“Good. Scratch that last plan. Screw the cultists, get me those prisoners.”

* * *

“Move!” Allen turned as he shouted the order, grabbing the cultist behind him who was distracted by the looming helicopter. They wrestled briefly for his gun, but the other man shoved and sent him sprawling over an air duct. He moved to Allen, bunny ears askew, and leveled his weapon.

*Blam!* The man’s head, and bunny ears exploded. Sprayed with bone and blood, Allen looked at the ‘copter and saw a camera, no wait, a side-mounted cannon spit another salvo at the other cultist, who was ignoring Emma and preparing to fire on them. His fate was even messier.

A ladder rope was lowered to them and they climbed on, Emma first. As Allen neared the top, the copter swayed, and a man in a cheap suit and deafening tie leaned over to block him. What the hell?, Allen thought.

“Too much weight,” the man proclaimed, and moved to hit Allen. Suddenly, he pitched forward, then tumbled out, taking a screaming nosedive into the pit of bunnies. Allen hauled himself into the passenger hold.

“That better?” He heard the voice and noticed a man sitting next to Emma, seemingly made of muscles, a green mohawk, and a grimace. He nonchalantly pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin, and tossed it down to the bunnies. “Try hiding that egg,” he catch- phrased as the thunder of the grenade explosion rumbled below them.

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Trifextra XIV / ZomBunnies IX: On the Edge

This weekend, we return to the 33-word prompt, but this time, a 33-word prompt with a twist. Your task, should you choose to accept, is to take a scene that involves (or affects) at least three people. You should then write this scene from the point of view of three of the characters, using 33 words for each character.

We left Emma and Allen in the clutches of the Hare Band, who plan to offer them as a sacrifice to the Zombie Bunnies. Each characters’s location/situation in the scene is italicized, POV is bolded.

Emma, looking down from a makeshift plank on the roof of the pet shop, at the horde of bunnies waiting underneath, trying to think up a plan –

Where’s an Artoo unit when you need one? Hell, I’d settle for a chick in a metal bikini. Great, my last thoughts are a nerdy fanboy’s. What the… a helicopter?! Allen, quick!

Richard Connar, watching the scene from the EM CopterCam video feed and talking to the reporting staff on board–

“We’re going live now, keep the camera on the victims… closer! I want to see and SMELL some fear. Right, interview the cultists afterwards, we can work a weekly series out of this.”

Allen, standing behind Emma, with zombie bunnies underneath, thinking typical guy thoughts –

We should have stayed with the other cult. I could have found out how furless that babe was. That Peep is repeating on me; nice last meal. What, Emma… ok they’re distracted! Move!

 

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Trifecta XXIV / Zombie Bunnies VIII: Off-Balance

This week’s word is ‘confidence’:
3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy <took his friend into his confidence>

b : reliance on another’s discretion <their story was told in strictest confidence>

c : support especially in a legislative body <vote of confidence>

In the interests of a cliffhanger for our two heros, let’s pick up the story from some other characters, and see how THEY are faring…


“I expect that our conversations will not be held in any form of confidence,” PJ Appleby chided Rich Connar, Overlord of Empire Media. They were in Connar’s executive meeting room on the penthouse of Tower Watch, EM’s flagship building. Appleby had just arrived by helicopter, spirited there by Connar’s security team from his own headquarters, and just in time; the bunnies were everywhere. Only he had made it.

“I’m glad we have that understanding,” was the others’ reply. “But it’s not what we know, but what we tell that matters.” His attention was focused on the wall covered in television panels showing simultaneous news reports; from pandemonium on unknown streets, to desolate farmlands, the horde was spreading across the screens. He was examining one video feed, a close up of a bunny’s tackily furred torso. It paid no mind to the camera as it fed on what remained of EM reporter DeeDee Lottagams.

“Such a waste. She was our finest looking reporter,” Connar explained. “DoubleDee could wear a bikini during Armageddon and have you convinced it was a Spring Break kegger.” He turned to Appleby. ”Another team is headed to a new hot spot. We’ll follow up with that. In the meantime, we’re setting up your interview with Don.”

Appleby winced. Donald Carcharias was the anchor of ‘Rake & Shovel’, the nation’s highest rated interview program. Q&A’s with Don reduced more than one world leader to tears, and just last month, a well- known actress had attempted suicide on- air during a frenzied grilling.

Connar noticed Appleby’s expression and gave a cruel smile. “Oh don’t worry. You have information we need to mine and refine for the public good. Now, let’s…” He paused and tapped his earbud headset. After listening for a moment, he pulled a small remote device from his pocket; the screens combined to one large live video. Appleby’s heart dropped as he watched the scenario unfold.

“Now this,” Connar shouted with mad glee, “this, is a story!”

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Trifecta XXIV – Zombie Bunnies VII – Peeple are Peeple

This week’s word is ‘confidence’:
3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy <took his friend into his confidence>

b : reliance on another’s discretion <their story was told in strictest confidence>

c : support especially in a legislative body <vote of confidence>

On the heels of a second place finish (which made my week), and some of the awesomest feedback ever, I too wondered, what happens next? I’ve actually started an outline and will probably create some page that links them chronologically.

For now, let’s continue where we left off…


“What occurred here must remain in the strictest of confidence. We put days of effort into building this new order, and will not have it bastardized by others. Particularly ‘The Hare Band’, as they are known,” he spoke with obvious disgust. A rival faction of crazies, Emma thought. Some things never change.

“Well we’re just passing through, but your secret is safe with us,” she promised. Like anyone would believe it. Echo sighed and shook his head. “Know that we can offer no protection when you encounter them.” As they re- slung their backpacks, they were each offered a yellow marshmallow Peep attached to a simple nylon lanyard from the un-furred young woman. “For luck,” she stated, holding them out proudly. “I made them myself.”

** *

“You’re actually wearing it,” Emma badgered Allen, as they pulled out of the garage.

“I like ‘em stale,” was his reply.

** *

WHEN you encounter them is what he said, Emma reflected, not IF. Should have known. She didn’t share that epiphany with Allen, who was cursing at having missed the now obvious nail strip that blew out the van’s tires.

Several figures emerged from an abandoned pet shop on their right. They were armed with automatic rifles, a juxtaposition to the, yes, Emma realized, rabbit ear headbands.

“We don’t want any trouble, we were leaving town,” she declared.

“Leaving?” One man said nasally, a rubber pink nose twitching on his face. “Then why’re you wearing the talisman of the Bunnymen!?” he shouted accusingly. She turned and saw Allen attempting to eat the evidence, but it was too late.

They were herded out of the van, their backpacks confiscated, to their captors’ burrow. As they walked, Emma tried to think of some escape plan.

“Listen, how about we join…”

“No, you’ve likely eaten of the Hallowed Bunny,” Pink Nose stated, “and therefore are impure. However, you are still useful to us in ensuring our survival. Rather than waste our ammunition against unending hordes, we placate them with… a sacrifice!”

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Write On Edge – Indebted (Cold Brain, Warm Hands ll)

Yeap, I joined another assignment/ contest/ challenge. Why not right? There are two things that inspire me; good ideas and good feedback. Which makes this one stop shopping, and I got plenty of words to spend.

So WriteOnEdge has their own legit thing going, and you should check it out/get in on it, especially if you follow any other challenges.

The theme here is Paying What you Owe. From bills to contracts, oaths, promises and maybe even a judgment from Judge Judy, everybody owes something. Word limit is a healthy 500 woids.

This is a continuation from Cold Brain Warm Hands which I recommend you read the first part to, well first, to see where this action picks up from. The theme inspired this story faster than Zombie Bunnies, buuuut I hope you enjoy it anyway 😉
Feedback is always appreciated!


Diggs didn’t move, but his mind ran through their options, Whomever it was knew what was on the other end of that camera. The mystery man stood frozen, and that was his mistake; Diggs was going to show no quarter here. If he had a post in this place, he was the enemy. The line between their sides was clear.

The other man thawed out and made a move – not to the terminal beside him, where a simple command would set off lights, klaxons and certain death for Diggs and his men. Instead, he stepped towards the door. Diggs signaled, sensing his team getting into position immediately. The agent moved closer, and as Diggs tracked his movement, pulled out a small device and put it to the door. A soft signal in his helmet told him the lock was released. Wordlessly they sprang into action.

It was three seconds before they had the agent pinned up against the wall, the room secured, and the door closed again. Because of the suits, to anyone watching, he was held accosted by phantoms. Diggs continued to hold the hostage while the others studied the computer display and attempted to gain access without setting off any alarms.

“Stop! Stop, I can…” the agent struggled to get his words out, his throat held tight by Diggs. He didn’t struggle too much; smart move, as a quick twist of the wrist would have been quick and easy. He tried to speak, sputtering random words, and Diggs suddenly recognized something he said. He released the man, and tapped a command on his wrist. The stealth suit became visible.

“Sir?” one of the team asked. Diggs turned towards the shadowy form.

“He knows the infiltrator code,” Diggs answered, turning back to the agent, who was lightly exploring his tender neck. “You could have said it before opening the door. Other teams wouldn’t let you get a word out.”

The man spoke, his voice raspy. “Right, I know. I just figured you knew I have been getting you all through since Beta.” He turned on another computer screen, which showed a series of hallways one by one. “All the alarms were put on rotation by me, as soon as I recognized your pattern. I have to admit, you have perfect timing. No anomalies whatsoever; The Brain has no idea you are here.”

“Well thanks, then. Your name?” Diggs asked.

“Dysen. I’m from Alliance Corps.”

“Dysen, we owe you.” Diggs patted the man’s shoulder and nodded approvingly. With a flick of his other wrist however, he released a blade that found its way to Dysen’s chest. The agent slid to the floor, wordlessly. Diggs knew his men would never question his action, but he looked at their vague forms to explain.

“The code he gave was ‘stone, base, one’. That was Peters’, an infiltrator confirmed dead six months ago’s call sign. I knew Peters and that wasn’t him.”

He looked back at the body. “Guess I settled two debts then.”

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Trifecta Challenge – Zombie Bunnies V

This week’s topic word is –
scan•dal noun \ˈskan-dəl\

3 a: a circumstance or action that offends propriety or established moral conceptions or disgraces those associated with it
b : a person whose conduct offends propriety or morality

Use the word. Add 32-332 other words around it and you got yerself an entry.

Yes, MORE. Because you want more. Because I want more. Like bloodthirsty little bunnies.


Oh now, this would be news, she thought grimly while wiping the blood and gore from the machete. ‘Former Veterinary Assistant Goes From Saving to Slaughtering Animals.’ Of course the press would ignore the fact that those little guys had turned into bloodlusting vermin; why pass up the chance to create a scandal? She pushed it out of her mind, just as she had learned to forget the good things she associated with the little furballs; that carrot munching wiseass from the cartoons, little chocolate crème filled eggs during Easter, Watership Down– her favorite book as a child (and adult), and the ‘once funny, but now too true’ killer rabbit scene that brought together millions of geeks under the kinship of random quotes (Ni!)

She really could have used Tim the Enchanter’s help right about now.

The van jolted, knocking her back into reality, sad as it was. Could have been a pothole they hit, but more likely it was roadkill.

“That’s nine, Em!” Allen yelled to her from the driver’s seat confirming the thought. “And that’s just this run!” She didn’t confuse his giddiness with amusement (he had already mentioned the lack of humor in their situation); it was just his way of dealing with the situation. Plus, he was always a competitive asshole. THAT part actually proved very helpful.

“Yeah well, I’m still ahead by total,” she replied, not enough emotion in her voice to taunt him. She finished the cleanup and tossed the rags into a bag, which she tied shut. Moving up to the front, Emma slid into the passenger seat. They passed cars and bodies at various points; one particularly bad accident next to a farm involved a pair of minivans, charred metal skeletons with an obscured logo on the side door. Looking forward, gray and black clouds rose in tendrils from the city ahead.

“You got enough gas to get there?” Anna asked.

He checked the gauge. “If we’re lucky… no. But, I still got those bullets.”

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Trifecta Challenge – Cold Brain, Warm Hands

This week’s word is: brain (noun)
Third definition–
3: something that performs the functions of a brain; especially : an automatic device (as a computer) for control or computation

Something between 33 and 333 words. I got the limit 😉
Enjoy! Feedback, if you please!


The soldier double-timed it silently through the corridor; not even a squeak from his boots could be heard. Ahead, the hallway was clear, unfurnished, subtle details making it seem as though the corridor was part of a film loop. It would be all too easy to lose one’s bearings, and he had one shot at this.

Diggs, the squad leader, stopped and gave a level fist to the others. If they were even there. The cloakers were good; without a helmet, a slight blur would be all anyone’s eyes and brain registered. He had to assume though; they were his soldiers.

Diggs had stopped beside an unmarked door; the map he was following on the HUD told him this was the place. He didn’t have a GPS link; he and everyone else would know exactly where he was. When your target was the central brain of an AI network, multitasking was their forte.

Well counter-insurgency was his specialty. It was going to be a test of wills.

A small bundle was passed to him by the men who were indeed there; he uncoiled the thin rubber cord and uncapped the camera lens at the tip. There was the minimum amount of space under the door, but the cord, perfectly matched in color to the flat gray door, pancaked flat as it slid under. Diggs grimaced as he slid the connector into his helmet port; it reminded him too much of these fucking machines. The enhanced outfit was tolerable only because of its effectiveness.

The sound of their breathing was almost audible; a low hum made the air vibrate ever so slightly. Like blood flowing through the veins, he thought; I guess we’re the poison.

There was audio as well as video, and the HUD came to life. He shuddered at the sight; it was everything they hoped it wouldn’t be.

The coldest machine still needs a warm hand for guidance. Diggs found himself staring back at a face as shocked as his.

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