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The New York Times reviews the Shadow Speaker

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on July 12, 2008 at 9:24pm

It's not a perfect review (mostly positive), but I'm ecstatic to be reviewed by the New York Times. What an honor.Weapons of Mass CreationBy DONNA FREITASPublished in the New York Times, Sunday July 12th

THE SHADOW SPEAKERBy Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu.336 pp. Jump at the Sun/Hyperion. $16.99. (Ages 12 and up)It’s easy to name a dozen fantasy novels set in England but, save for Nancy Farmer’s futuristic book “The Ear, the Eye and the Arm,” difficult to think of one set anywhere in Africa — just one of many unexpected pleasures in Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu’s novel “The Shadow Speaker.”The book’s 14-year-old heroine, Ejii Ugabe, lives in a dystopian Niger, changed not only by nuclear war but by “Peace Bombs” — weapons developed by a militant environmentalist group to “create where the nuclear bombs destroyed.” These sent a “vast green-tinted wave” across all seven continents, ushering the world into the Great Change — a time when magic was unleashed all over the planet, and earthquakes and their aftershocks tore holes in the atmosphere between worlds. Some children are now born “metahuman,” with special gifts. Ejii can speak to shadows, while Dikéogu, the boy who will become her truest friend and companion, can pull rain and lightning from the sky. The two are strong enough to save the world, or destroy it.When she was 9, Ejii witnessed her father’s beheading by the warrior queen Sarauniya Jaa — but far from being traumatized, she was overjoyed; her father had become a tyrant, and she was relieved he was gone. When Ejii learns of Jaa’s belief that she is to become Niger’s next warrior queen, she decides to follow Jaa into another world, embarking on a perilous walkabout in the traditional quest of shadow speakers. “To travel is to court death and greatness,” writes Okorafor-Mbachu, an American whose parents moved to the United States from Nigeria.Despite a story that begins with tragedy and drama, that has a fresh and interesting setting and follows two main characters, a girl and boy, on the cusp of events that will change their lives forever, “The Shadow Speaker” can be difficult to enjoy and even more so to finish. The writing is polished till it gleams, but unfortunately, no amount of good writing can hide the fact that something essential is missing. The story and its characters lack emotional pull; they feel flat on the page. Even when it looks as though Ejii has died — her new powers overwhelm her, and she succumbs to the shadows — it seems like just another event among many.Still, there are creative touches here that fans of fantasy will not want to miss, like the book’s unforgettable scenery. Following Ejii and Dikéogu’s journey through the parched Sahara, they cross into Ginen’s Kingdom of Ooni, where plants grow into houses and where a room might smell like lilacs and have “bright blue spiders, transparent-skinned geckos, lizards with long metallic-looking nails and all sorts of beetles,” even “a tiny red-orange monkey clinging to the ceiling.” And there is magic too in the character of Queen Jaa: when she speaks, “a red flower with glasslike petals” falls from the sky to accompany her prophetic words and war-mongering tactics.This novel — like the author’s first, “Zahrah the Windseeker” (2005) — leaves little doubt that Okorafor-Mbachu’s imagination is stunning and that she can lay the groundwork for a successful fantasy. But ultimately a novel must captivate, wrenching us from our world into its own. On this level, at least, “The Shadow Speaker” falls short.Donna Freitas is an assistant professor of religion at Boston University. Her first novel, “The Possibilities of Sainthood,” will be published in August.

Into Africa

Posted by Charles R. Saunders on July 11, 2008 at 5:57am

Back in the day, when I was calling myself “educating” people about Africa’s place in folklore and mythology, I wrote an article about the continent’s unknown beasts and mythical beings for Dragon magazine. Dragon was published by the people who were behind the renowned Dungeons & Dragons role-playing game. I never was a gamer myself, but the article nonetheless had some influence. It was published in the June 1987 issue of Dragon, under the title “Out of Africa.” But I think “Into Africa” is a better reflection of what the article’s about. Here it is:Long before science-fiction writers began to populate outer space with bug-eyed aliens, the bards and skalds and other story-tellers of pre-industrial Earth peopled our own planet with imaginary beings of incredible number and variety. Regardless of culture or clime, human beings have dreamed of imaginary counterparts in unknown lands beyond the mountains and over the seas. These counterparts have become so embedded in human culture that today, even though the mountains and seas have been explored extensively without having found any mythical beings, those beings continue to exist in symbolic fashion. From the heraldic dragon to the boogeyman that hides behind the closet door at night, the beings imagined by our ancestors are still with us.Over the past two decades, there has been a resurgence of interest in the fabulous beings of the ancient past. In part, this resurgence is connected with a general revival of interest in fantasy as a literary genre. As well, it can be attributed to the advent of the fantasy role-playing game. Mythical beings are an integral part of these games, and volumes of compilations of monsters of the world are perused by Dungeonmasters who seek new perils for their underground realms.Sometimes, it seems, however, that the current interest in mythical beings is confined to those associated with the cultures of Western Europe, with a smattering of Oriental creatures added for good measure. The imaginary output of the cultures of North and South America, the Pacific, and Africa is omitted from most compilations of mythical beings. Such omission is especially apparent in the case of Africa.There are various reasons for these omissions. In some cases, the compiler deliberately leaves out products of the so-called “primitive mind.” One such compiler is Heinz Mode, who wrote in Fabulous Beasts and Demons (p. 13):“It may have been noticed that no mention has yet been made of ancient America or ancient Africa, the South Seas, and Australia. That these areas may in fact be largely left out is due to a fact already stated: namely that the idea of monsters arises at a relatively late stage of cultural development. The ancient American civilizations do show some rudimentary – perhaps independent – composite forms, but these are for the most part ill-defined and it is often difficult to distinguish between monsters and human figures masked or disguised in animal skins. Ideas of magic, totemic customs, and animistic equation of different natural spheres may have led to some of the ideas underlying the shapes that interest us here. But it seems that these never brought about a true creation of new beings in a distinct visual form. For this reason, we shall largely have to leave out these areas of civilization if we want to keep to our subject, though in individual cases reference will be made to possible connections. The observation that monsters were not created originally by the so-called ‘primitive’ peoples, as one might have expected, but are in fact to a large extent the product of highly developed civilizations is surprising enough.”Mode’s surprise might have been even greater had he met the chemosit of East Africa. The chemosit is described as part human, part bird. It has one leg and nine buttocks. Its red mouth shines like a lamp at night. Whatever else it may be, the chemosit is unquestionably “a new being in distinct visual form.” Not only that, but the name chemosit is also given to an animal that seems to be an amalgam of ape and hyena. We will meet this second manifestation of the chemosit later in this essay.The chemosit is not unique. As you will see, there are many other mythical beings in Africa that fit Mode’s (or anybody else’s) definition of a “monster.”Descriptions of some of these beings may be found in such compilations as Perle Epstein’s Monsters, Peter Costello’s The Magic Zoo, and Jose Luis Borges’ celebrated The Book of Imaginary Beings. None of the above volumes, however, mentions more than a scant few of the imaginary inhabitants of Africa. Also, in the Costello and Borges compilations, the African beings they cite lack true African provenance. Creatures such as the Catoblepas, a bovine with a head too heavy to carry upright, and the Amphisbaena, a snake with heads at both ends of its body, are products of the European imagination rather than the African.The search for true African mythical beings must, therefore, begin with African sources. The beings have always been there; as the continent continues to emerge from its centuries-long nightmare of slavery and colonialism, the true extent of the output of the African imagination will become apparent to the fantasists, scholars, and gamers of this part of the world. This essay represents only one small scratch on a vast surface.Unknown BeastsAt first glance, a distinction between “unknown beasts” and “mythical beings” may seem superfluous. Aren’t both kinds of creature equally products of the imagination? The answer to that question is, “Yes and no.”In the lore of most African cultures, there are two categories into which beings we consider imaginary may be sorted: natural and supernatural. The natural category would include animal species that have not yet been described and classified by zoologists, but are nonetheless considered by Africans to be as much a part of the local fauna as lions and leopards. These elusive beasts of river, forest, and plain could be considered in the same light as the Loch Ness Monster of Scotland or the Sasquatch of North America – animals whose existence has not been verified scientifically, but are still more likely to fall into the purview of biologists rather than anthropologists. Supernatural beings belong more to the realm of folklore and mythology.Often, natural and supernatural beings are lumped together as products of ignorance and superstition. Still, as Belgian zoologist Bernard Huevelmans points out in On the Track of Unknown Animals, zoos all over the world now contain specimens of the gorilla, the okapi, and the pygmy hippopotamus – all of which were once dismissed as products of native superstition. There may be others …Africa is a continent of rivers, with the Nile, the Congo and Niger systems ranking among the largest in the world. There are also several great lakes surpassed in size only by those in North America. These bodies of water teem with a countless variety of fish, as well as hippopotamus, crocodile, and water birds.Formidable as the hippo and crocodile are, even they are sometimes forced to retreat when confronted by the unknown beasts that share their environment. One dangerous rival is the dingonek, a fifteen-foot-long creature with a head like that of a lioness or otter; long, saber-like fangs; thick scales like those of an armadillo; and a long, broad tail. The dingonek’s body is covered with leopard-like spots, and its bulk rivals that of a hippo. Its feet bear reptilian claws.Even more impressive than the dingonek is the chepekwe, which appears to be part rhinoceros and part elephant, with little or no trace of the reptilian in its makeup. The chepekwe is as big as a small elephant. Like the Indian rhinoceros (but unlike the African), the chepekwe bears a single horn on its nose. Its habitat is the swampy regions of the Katanga district of Congo (formerly Zaire).A similar water-beast is the nzefu-loi, which dwells in the Lualaba River. Although its name means “water elephant,” the nzefu-loi does not look like an elephant. The shape of its body is comparable to a hippo’s, but unlike the hippo it ha a long neck surmounted by a relatively small head. The head is armed with short, heavy, downward-pointing tusks. Despite its saurian configuration, the nzefu-loi sports a long, hairy tail like that of a horse.The nsanga looks very much like the Komodo monitor lizard, which is officially the world’s largest lizard, growing to a length of ten to twelve feet. The nsanga beats that record, as some of them have been reported to stretch as long as fifteen feet. Its lifestyle is similar to that of the crocodile, which the nsanga sometimes chases from choice feeding-grounds. Although the nsanga does not possess the fearsome jaws of a crocodile, it compensates with agility and razor-sharp claws.The badigui lives in the Ubangi-Shari river system in what is now the Central African Republic. The grandfather of all snakes, the badigui has sufficient size and strength to crush a crocodile in its coils. When it ventures out of the water, this gigantic serpent leaves a track as wide as the body of a Land Rover. As for length, one witness saw only the upper portion of a badigui – and that was twenty-five feet long!Not all of Africa’s unknown water-dwellers are reptilian or pachydermal. The morou-ngou is decidedly feline in form. At ten to twelve feet in length, the morou-ngou appears to be an oversized panther adapted to an aquatic environment. Its smooth, otter-like coat can be either striped or solid-brown in hue. Although the previously mentioned animals are not directly dangerous to humans, the morou-ngou is very inimical indeed. Often, it will go out of its way to drown hapless humans in the deepest part of the Ubangi-Shari.Like the other beasts discussed thus far, the morou-ngou is amphibious, capable of surviving out of water. But the lukwata of Lake Victoria is strictly aquatic. Indeed, the lukwata may best be described as a gigantic catfish, twelve to fifteen feet in length. With its wide, gaping mouth surrounded by twisting barbels, the lukwata would be a terrifying apparition to an unwary fisherman.The last water-beast to be described here does not live in any of Africa’s rivers or lakes. The silwane-manzi is a sea-dweller that sometimes leaves its three-toed prints along the beaches of Natal, South Africa. Zulus who have seen this creature say that it is larger than a crocodile, walks on its hind legs, is covered with scales, and has a head that resembles that of a turtle. Although the film was made years after the Zulus’ first descriptions of the silwane-manzi, the sea-beast bears an uncanny resemblance to the Creature from the Black Lagoon!Water is not the only habitat of unknown beasts in Africa. Remote forests, mountains, and savannas harbor creatures that have yet to appear on the Wild Kingdom TV program.Conventional zoological wisdom tells us that there are no bears in Africa. What, then, is the nandi, a marauder that has harassed East African shepherds for centuries? Lacking other terms of reference, Africans who have encountered the nandi say it looks like an overgrown hyena. But when photographs of bears are shown to these witnesses, they invariably change their minds. Indeed, one variant of the chemosit is the duba, whose name is Arabic for “bear.” Although it is a huge, fearsome creature, the nandi/duba appears to confine its depredations to domestic animals.The chemosit, also called the getiet, is an altogether different proposition. As mentioned earlier, there are two versions of the chemosit. The half-man, half-bird monster is more of a demon than a natural creature. The other version is a rapacious predator that seems part-hyena, part-ape and one hundred percent deadly. Entire villages have been known to have fled the fury of the chemosit, which has the unsavory habit of tearing off the tops of its victims’ skulls and dining on the exposed brains. In its own way, this second version of the chemosit may be even more demonic than the first.Related to the chemosit is the engargiya of Uganda. A large, shaggy, slope-backed creature, the engargiya has been identified by Huevelmans with the chalicothere, a prehistoric animal that had the anatomy of an herbivore combined with disproportionately large claws on its forefeet. Although the chalicothere became extinct during the Pleistocene era, Huevelmans speculates that a relict population may have survived in the East African bush.The njenge is an omnivorous animal about the size of a sheep. In pre-colonial days, njenges made nuisances of themselves by raiding farms and gardens. Although it is said to eat meat as well as vegetable food, there is no mention of the njenge being dangerous to humans. Its body is covered with hair like that of an English sheepdog.Great cats like the lion, leopard and cheetah are virtually symbolic of African wildlife. But there are two large feline species that are just as spectacular and dangerous as the cats trophy-hunters seek. One is the nunda, a feline larger than a lion and far more difficult to kill. In Swahili legend, the nunda has a thick tail, small ears, a bulky build, and a coat marked like that of a civet. It is interesting to note that paleoanthropologist Louis Leakey once excavated the fossil of a cat that seemed more tiger than lion. The nunda could represent a survival of this prehistoric species.The other unknown feline seems almost at the threshold of scientific recognition. Known locally as the marozi, the cat is about the size of a small lioness. Travelling in pairs, marozi are most frequently seen in the Aberdare Mountains of Kenya. Although the males do not boast the full mane of a lion, they do have a whiskery ruff like that of a lynx or bobcat. Also like a bobcat, the marozi’s hide is spotted. However, its tail is as long as a leopard’s. For a time, a pair of marozi-skins was on display in Nairobi.Thus we complete our survey of unknown beasts. The listing is by no means exhaustive. Like the okapi and the pygmy hippopotamus, some of the above creatures may one day be displayed in zoos. But … what zoo could contain a determined badigui or chemosit?Mythical BeingsWe are now ready to look at Africa’s supernatural entities. Their existence is rooted in the realm of folklore, myth – and, yes, superstition. Disassociated from physical reality, supernatural beings are nonetheless part of the spiritual reality of the cultures of which they are part. Although they are not by definition evil, these beings do tend to be associated with the conjurations of sorcerers and witches.Virtually all cultures have created supernatural beings. There seems to be a universal core of awe of the unknown that impels us to mold that awe into something with shape and substance. If the unknown can be visualized and named, it becomes easier to cope with.Based on their different origins, there is an important contrast between the behavior of natural and supernatural beings. With a few exceptions, the natural beings are not a direct menace to humans. Like other animals, they will leave you alone if you leave them alone. More often than not, however, the supernatural beings are dangerous to the people whose imaginations create them.It is almost a cultural universal that people who share their environment with large predators will develop a tradition of were-beasts, or humans who can turn themselves into animals. Africans are no exception to this rule.The most common kind of African were-beast is the irimu, or were-leopard. Irimu can also be lions, depending on the locale of the myth-makers. Like the European werewolf, the irimu assumes beast-form when the moon is full. But its bite does not infect its victims with a similar curse. The condition is induced by the spells of unscrupulous sorcerers, though sometimes the sorcerers are unable to control their creations. The irimu are not to be confused with the Leopard Men of West Africa, who disguise themselves as leopards for ritualistic purposes.There are also were-loins and were-hyenas, known respectively as chiwanda and makishi. These beings differ from the irimu in that they are beasts that can become human, while the irimu is a human that can become a beast. Entire cycles of folklore in Central and Southern Africa revolve around the theme of the “Demon Bridegroom.” In these stories, a makishi or chiwanda will come in human form to a village and seduce the local beauty who haughtily rejects all other suitors. The demon marries the maiden – then, on the wedding night, the demon reverts to its natural form, with predictably terrifying results.The vampire is another supernatural entity that appears in cultures all over the world. The Central European version of this blood-drinking monster is the most prevalent – hello, Count Dracula. But there are other cultural variations on the vampire theme.At least two types of vampire have been reported in Africa. One is the tyerkow, which haunted the Sahelian city of Timbuktu. The tyerkow was a normal human being by day, but at night is would shed its skin. By that process, it became a vampire with most of the attributes of the European variety. In its skinless state, the tyerkow drank the blood of sleeping citizens of Timbuktu. To destroy a tyerkow, one must hide its skin so that it has no safe haven to return to by daylight. Of course, the vampire is very careful about saving its own skin …The other type of African vampire is the mwanga. The best description of a mwanga would be “a person who turns into a beast that lives on blood.” In some ways, the mwanga is a combination of vampire and were-beast, with the mindless ferocity of the latter linked to the blood-drinking habits of the former. Unlike the tyerkow, the mwanga is vulnerable to ordinary weapons, though it takes a lot of killing to dispatch one.“Little people” are yet another worldwide folkloric phenomenon. Gnomes and leprechauns have African counterparts, such as utechekulu and the kitunusi, among others. The above-named dwarves tend to be dangerous, and are better left alone. The utechekulu are about three feet high, have ebony skin and tangled hair, and possess a long, sharp blood-red tooth that they use to kill their victims. Their favorite prey? People.The kitunusi, on the other hand, is somewhat ambivalent. Even its status as a dwarf is not clear, as some stories say the kitunusi is of normal size, but hitches itself about in a sitting position. Whatever its stature, the kitunusi wears a magic cloth called the kaniki. If a traveller is bold enough to tear away a piece of the kaniki, great riches will be his. But failure to face down this gnome results in illness, paralysis and eventual slow death.Where there are little people, there are also giants. All over the world, legends persist of races of giants that preceded humans on Earth. One African variation on this theme is the story of the Rom, who once inhabited northern Ethiopia. They were so large that the cattle they herded were as goats are to normal humans. Their water-vessels were made from the entire hides of bulls, and for firewood, they ripped up entire groves of trees. For a time, the Rom coexisted peacefully with humans. They ultimately died out through a combination of infertility and competition with the smaller – but brighter – ancestors of the Ethiopians. Even today, lost cattle are sometimes thought to have been stolen by the vengeful ghosts of the Rom.Another race of giants is the Sao, who settled in the region of Lake Chad. They are described as having bright, sun-like eyes and prodigious size and strength. Indeed, accounts of the prowess of the Sao bring to mind tales of Paul Bunyan and Finn MacCool. Their bows were the trunks of palm trees, and their stature was such that they could carry an elephant on their shoulders. Unlike the Rom, the Sao were highly cultured, and were willing to pass their knowledge on to the “little people” they encountered. Also unlike the Rom, they did not die out in competition with normal-sized humans. One day, the Sao simply moved on, and were never seen again.Elves are yet another worldwide mystical phenomenon. Sometimes elves are confused with dwarves and gnomes. But strictly speaking, an elf is a being that operates on a higher spiritual plane than do humans. The sidhe of Ireland are one European example of this perception of elves. For the Bantu-speaking people of Congo and other Central African countries, the equivalent of the sidhe is a race called the wakyambi, or Heaven People.The “heaven” concept is not to be confused with the Christian paradise. The name was translated as such because the Congolese said the wakyambi live “in the clouds,” or “beyond the sun.” They have been known to conjure “heaven-cattle” for people upon whom they looked kindly. On the other hand, the wakyambi are also known to be harbingers of disaster. In appearance, these elfin beings are very much like other Africans – the primary difference being that the wakyambi have tails. Contrary to some expectations, the tail of the wakyambi is not considered a sign of evolutionary degeneracy.Thus far, we have looked at creatures that are part of a universal series of mythic archetypes. Vampires, werewolves, dwarves and elves are represented in folklore from all corners of the world. There are, however, mythic beings in Africa that have few – if any – counterparts in other continents’ cultures.For example, there’s the ngojama, a demon that haunts the forests of the Tana country. The ngojama in manlike in appearance and has human intelligence. But it also possesses long, iron-hard claws that grow from the palms of its hands. The ngojama lies in wait for unwary hunters, who quickly discover that they have suddenly become prey.The Zulu speak of two man-like races that may be found in their hill country. One is the unthlatu, or serpent-people. An unthlatu is human in form, but is covered with smooth, slippery scales like those of a python. Unthlatu tend not to interfere in human affairs, but when they do, one can never predict whether their interventions result in good or ill. In one instance, an unthlatu saved the life of a Zulu maiden who was abducted by a river-demon. On the other hand, the serpent-people are not above the stealing of cattle from time to time – a cardinal sin in Zulu protocol.Less benign than the unthlatu are the ingogo, which are a cross between human and baboon. The Zulu believe the ingogo to be the degenerate descendants of an exiled clan. The ingogo walk on all fours and have tails, although their faces are still human enough. Although the ingogo have retained the ability to speak, their dietary habits have declined considerably, as their favorite meal is Zulu flesh.The mangabangabana has an impressively long name – but it is, in fact, only half a man, with one arm, one leg and one eye. Despite their truncated form, the mangabangabana is more dangerous than the ingogo. Not only is this grotesque half-thing a man-eater; it also possesses the power of flight. From its remote forest haunts, the mangabangabana swoops down on women and children, and caries them off to a horrible fate.Great Zimbabwe, now a collection of stone ruins in the country that bears the same name, had its share of supernatural inhabitants. One was the mhondoro – the spirit of a semi-divine ancestor that has the power to possess a descendant and infuse him or her with all the attributes that led to that ancestor’s renown. The possession is only temporary, and when it is over, the medium is left considerably depleted, if not dead. Mhondoro are thus summoned only in dire circumstances.The zombie, or reanimated corpse, is perhaps the best-known of all African supernatural beings, having made its way across the Atlantic to Haiti and other parts of the New World. Less well-known is the fact that there are other types of walking dead in Africa.The tuyewera – a specialty of the Kaonde people of Zambia – is a Frankensteinian combination of an exhumed corpse and an enslaved soul. To create a tuyewera Kaonde sorcerers first procure the body of a person who has been slain by witchcraft. The legs of the corpse are then severed at the knees, and its tongue is cut out. Then the sorcerer animates the tuyewera with the soul of an ancestor who was known to have practiced witchcraft.The result of this procedure is an unkillable fiend that can steal, cause illness, and kill at the sorcerer’s command. At night, the tuyewera is invisible. It moves by hitching itself on its hands and the stumps of its legs. It kills by sucking the breath out of its sleeping victims. The only way to stop a tuyewera is to invoke an incantation that will induce the spirit of the witch-ancestor to leave the revived corpse. At that point, the maker of the tuyewera loses control over his creation, and the corpse quickly decomposes. Kaonde sorcerers used to sell tuyewera to people who sought the services of a quiet assassin.We will close our supernatural safari with a look at Isikukumadevu, a Zulu variation of the “swallowing-monster” theme. Isikukumadevu is a huge, bloated, mossy creature that once lived in a river that no longer exists. As the proper form of address for Isikukumadevu is “Madame Monster,” it is safe to assume that the entity is female. Politeness is, indeed, a virtue when dealing with a creature that once swallowed an entire village because one of its inhabitants offended her!Thus ends our sampling of the unknown beasts and mythic beings of Africa. As mentioned before, we have only scratched the surface of a vast array of entities. In some cases there are several variations on a theme, such as reptilian water-beasts and shape-changing were-creatures, as well as other types of resuscitated corpses. Brief as this survey may be, it may still provide an inkling of the depth and fertility of the African imagination.SourcesA Treasury of African Folklore. Harold Courlander, New York: Crown 1975.African Folktales and Sculpture. Paul Radin, editor, Kingsport: Kingsport Press, 1966.More “Things”. Ivan T. Sanderson, New York: Pyramid 1969.Myths and Legends of Africa. Margaret Carey, London: Hamelyn 1970.Myths and Legends of the Bantu. Alice Werner, London: Cass 1968.On the Track of Unknown Animals. Bernard Huevelmans, London: Granada 1972.End NoteLooking back, I can’t believe I omitted the mokele-mbembe – the famous “African dinosaur” – from this compilation! Looks like I’m going to have to do an updated, expanded version someday.

African Fantasy: The Nigerian Edition of Zahrah the Windseeker

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on July 8, 2008 at 8:30am

At last, the Nigerian edition of Zahrah the Windseeker is available for purchase. The publisher is Kachifo LTD, which has brought the works of so many of my favorite writers to Nigeria, including Sefi Atta, Ngugi wa Thiong'o, Ben Okri, , and Chimamanda N. Adichie.I love this edition of Zahrah the Windseeker because it includes some wonderful illustrations (in addition to the ones that are already in the book). It’s a lovely well-made book.Here are two of the illustrations:

You can order this edition here.Nnedi

Winter Ghost

Posted by Night Manager on July 8, 2008 at 12:52am

WINTER GHOSTAll I know of her is her voice, it quietly whispers through the blowing snow, which still falls. Her voice, it quietly calls for help, and cries in pain, drew me from my path and onto this chase through the snow filled streets of Mt. Airy. She always seems to be near, around the corner, behind that fence, just over that hill, but I never draw close enough to find her, never come close enough to see her.*help*Again I hear her voice and I twist in the piling snow, my eyes straining to see through the thick never ending curtain of falling white. Pushing on in what I think is the correct direction I notice that, in the snow, which is up to my calves now, the only tracks I see are my own. I listen for any sound, something that would help me to find her, but all I hear is the peaceful silence of the snow-blanketed streets. It's the worst blizzard this city has seen in a decade and I could be home nice and warm but here I am following a ghost.*please*Closer this time and I have to turn again; she has me going in circles. So I sprint (if you can call it sprinting in knee-high snow) around one snow capped set of bushes and up a back driveway, only to find more swirling snow. This is getting ridiculous and I want to just go home but her voice is so frightened, so compelling, that I can't. Yet it is so cold, and my thin jacket and jeans aren't cutting it in this storm, and my feet are starting to feel like blocks of...Wait! What was that? Something moved in the small alleyway between the homes just ahead. I lunge forward, hopping through the snow trying to get to the breezeway before she was gone. The steps to the alley are covered in snow and I stumble as I try and find the foot purchases. Once again I find nothing, no woman, no footprints, no trace. Am I crazy? She's not here, nothing was ever here, but I was so sure. Then I see it, up past the houses, by the front steps between huge twin bushes, something flutters in the blizzard's gale. I stomp through the thigh high snow to claim my prize. Just a bit of cloth, fragile and so thin that it was almost transparent. It was hers, it had to be. Perhaps it was part of a scarf or maybe it was...was...bait. The thought hits me harder than the snow biting into my skin. Why did I...*here*From behind me there comes a strong gust that drives the loose snow into a blinding cloud. I brace my unprotected face against the assault, covering my eyes until it is over and I can see again. I turn and there is something lying in the snow of the alley that I had already searched. It's her, the woman whom I had been searching for. She's wearing a shear nightgown made of the same material as the cloth I found and she lay, unmoving, partially covered by the snow. I kneel beside her still form that is radiant against the cold white snow. Hesitantly I reach out and touch her arm and I can feel her warmth even through my gloves. At my touch her eyes open and look weakly at me with a small hint of recognition. Her lips part meekly but the only sound is the howling wind...

A Summary of first book Pure Blood- followed by an Excerpt

Posted by Jeanine Wright on July 4, 2008 at 7:23pm

A great division occurred after the creation of the human species. The first division happened when Lucifer, Prince of the Morning chose to defy creation and the Celestial Hierarchy. The second occurred when the Order of the Watchers, chosen to assist the human species defied the rules and engaged with them. The Celestial Hierarchy was made up of several orders, each with different status, positions and task. One of the Orders was the Powers, the Guardians of Universal and Cosmic order.Lilliana from the Order of Powers is summoned to observe the human species. For many ions the Powers have visited and observe the human species since the division. However, it is Lilliana’s proximity to the planet that heightens the primal nature of all beings on the planet; mortals and immortals alike. The Celestial Hierarchy is concerned with the course of human species has taken; according to their own history they have entered the beginning stages of the ‘end of days’. This has unleashed the demons, werewolves and vampyre’s to expose their existence to the human species ─ even the immortals were affected by her presence.The Power takes to the high ground, watching over the city at night. Lillie camouflages her energy into the flesh so she can blend in with the humans. She takes to going out in the evening, frequenting the gothic clubs. In the clubs she discovers and interacts with the flesh eaters and soul stealers. Lilliana is drawn to the music and the sounds of the night but she also defends the helpless and collects the dead. In one of her nightly journeys she comes across the Pure Blood Demetri. Demetri comes to the Americas from his homeland of Italy to put distance between him and the woman he loves the slayer Elizabeth. The slayer Elizabeth follows Demetri to the Americas and meets a distance cousin, who is also a slayer. Again, since the arrival of the Power Lilliana, vampyre’s are exposing themselves to humans. In her pursuit of the Demetri, Elizabeth is now on the trail of the notorious killer of slayers, the Pure Blood Colin. Colin has followed the slayer Elizabeth to the Americas to mate with her and create a new breed of vampyre. The myth of the slayer was they were created with incredible strength to defend the humans. Lilliana intervened when the slayer was taken hostage by Colin. However, along the way she would experience for the first time, emotions. The Power sparks a relationship with both Demetri and Colin. Her actions are questioned by members of the Celestial Hierarchy, namely archangels Michael and Gabriel. They notice a difference in Lilliana’s behavior and send the Watcher Adina to assist the Power in her task of observing the humans.In enters Chandler, at first he is assisting the slayers but his real agenda is shrouded, since he befriends the Pure Blood Colin. Whatever it is Chandler is up to, you get the feeling he is out for himself, as is Angelica. She is the mistress of the mansion, who is smitten by the new Lord of the manor Demetri. Angelica is very clear or so it seems of what and who she wants. The Vampyress sees the human as food and nutrients for her species. The mansion is used to lure humans as donors, to be willing participants in the food chain. But, the mansion holds many secrets and it are those secrets that will unravel when Elizabeth, the slayer goes missing. It is up to the Power to save her.But, in this world even the Power needs some help and she goes in search of a historian. They are the ones that write the history of the planet for the Hierarchy, the mystics, shaman, and sorcerers. The Power finds the enchantress Morgan who is linked to an ancient sorceress.For centuries the humans believe that the fight between good and evil was for their immortal souls. This couldn’t be further from the truth. In the end the humans will be in the middle of a power struggle between the immortals. No longer will they be able to ignore unexplained occurrencesExcerpt: from Book I - Pure BloodDemetrios woke early and went down to the study. He found the mansion quiet except for a few donors lying around. He decided to go out to explore and drink from a young dark haired girl slumbering in front of the fireplace. Dusk was upon the city and he wanted to see the attraction. He strolled along a main avenue but he was not use to the chaos of traffic. He was about to give up his wandering when he spotted a cemetery. Demetri loved strolling through the cemetery at home, he enjoyed reading headstones of the dead. He bobbed and weaves through the decrepit headrest when a soft breeze enticed him. The fresh smell of cut blades always reminded him of a newly dug grave and he ventured towards the park. He found an isolated path to be primitive. The darkness of the woods covered him from those passing by as he frolicked unnoticed. As he strolled, he noticed a strange vibration in his step. Demetri became aroused by its mere stealth. Only in his canine form does it grab his attention. He fell into rhythm with the entity as it stopped, so did he. He could not make out who or what it was through the darken trees but he knew it stood upright like a human but not. The hair behind his ears sensed familiarity. He tried to get a closer look. The creature suspected its prey but how with his fox like prowess. His sweat glands let out his essence to lure but his prey cunningness eluded. He lurked amidst the foliage as it went into the clearing, never exposing its features. Demetri observed as the human reveled in the dusk. He smelled the air, for it had a distinct scent of woman. He stood up on his hinds and brushed of his attire. Demetri waited for night to sweep across the sky, it would soon be time to prowl.The skies went from day to night in an array of colors instantly. The hues of orange, blue, purple and green gave way to the entrance of blue black. The eyes of the sky showed forth with an ominous cloud surrounding it. The creatures of the night stirred as they gloried at the appearance of darkness. It was the first hint of winter, there was a strange chill in the air and the leaches were out in force. The change of season was due for some time but still brought out the faithful. It was the time of the year the night had a slivery tone in the landscape.Lillie took on the night; to any layman she was the mere wind, whistling high in the sky. Tonight she observed the primitives, no more being caught within their web. She rode the ambiance of twilight enjoying the sweet nectar of freedom. Tonight she would be anything and everything, honing her hearing to the whispers of deceit. As she swept around, Lillie found her familiar stance atop the peak she called home and waited. She could hear the music from down below, as it traveled its way up to her. She knew with club Death Strike out of commission, the lost souls of the night would find another place to haunt. As she hovered in the atmosphere, her ocular view passed over the crevices of the streets. There it was Club Razors Edge, calling and inviting all to enter at their own risk. Lillie paused and wondered if it was safe. She waited and watched. She held back and then descended for a peek. She was intrigued when she spotted Liz and her two associates walking into the grotto. Lillie materialized wearing her usual black attire and her cloak as cover to hide her weapons. She followed into the club like night wind, undetected. Chandler spotted her as she converted instantly, like water shaping to a glass. He wanted to know about her and Lillie zeroed in on his stare as if he knew she would show. The music was more gothic than Death Strike but it was undeniably taking hold of her. She owed herself a night of dance and her core dragged her off to engage. As the music pulsated, she took hold of the rhythm and her pelvis gyrated seductively. Liz was surprised she delighted in human pleasures but took noticed to how she moved. Liz decided to join her and Chandler felt it was the perfect time to make his move, inviting a ménage et tois.Demetri and Angelica entered with their caravan as they all spotted the interesting display unraveling in the center as before. How surprised he was to see Elizabeth as Angelica pointed her out as the other slayer. However, his interest lies with the dark haired beauty dancing with Liz and he wanted in on the clique. He eased out on the dance floor, moving ever so close to his desire. Liz spotted Demetri and waited for him to get close enough to stake him. He moved behind Lillie, as her senses got blurry. She ignored it thinking it was the call of the music. Liz moved closer and he showed his tips. Lillie was enthralled in the rhythm and her hunger was being satisfied. Demetri scaled her body with his massive hands. He was intoxicated by her tang. Lilliana sensed a familiar and came face to face with Demetri. As the music became more intense they slowly fell into each other’s rhythm and he refrained from showing his fangs. Chandler and Liz stayed close just in case Demetri tried something but Demetri was enjoying an earthly pleasure. Angelica and the other’s stood by and watched how easily he could bring one into his rapture. When the song was over Lillie left Demetrios and strolled off the dance floor and turned around to glance at her dance partner. Chandler caught up to her and cornered Lillie, “I can not believe you danced with him!” he exclaimed.“Danced with whom?” Lillie asked.“You were dancing with the soulless one,” Chandler stated waiting for a reaction. “Demetrios, is the one that claimed the life of the slayer.”Lillie followed his point to see an attractive man dressed in a blood red shirt and black pants. He was still on the dance floor and found another to seduce, Liz. Gates walked over and joined them, “Should we get out there?” he asked.“No, if she needs us, she will beckon for back up.” Chandler stated.Gates turned his attention to Lillie, “You and the Vampyre looked pretty intense out on the dance floor,” he mentioned.“Yes, it was very human.” Chandler added.Lillie was bothered by Chandler’s comment, however he was also bothered. Chandler wondered what a Watcher was doing earth bound. Lillie decided to take her leave but not without removing her existence from their thoughts. As she was ready to leave, Liz came to join them and this made her task of erasure easy. Lillie headed for the door leaving the three of them dazed and confused, trying to remember what they were discussing. Lillie spotted the red neon sign, ‘EXIT’, as it screamed out to her silently. She made her way through the crowd of bodies when she sensed something familiar, a soul in need of her. She could hear the puncture of the skin as the fangs made passage through the flesh. The sound of the heartbeat throbbed in her ears as she searched for the soul that was fighting to resist. It relaxed and the fear was over. The thought of blinding so many to save one was a reluctant thought. Lillie breathes a sigh of relief and resumed her journey to the exit to stretch her wings. She took flight undetected to the crowd outside. Demetrios took off in hot pursuit of the essence he felt in the club but she was gone by the time he reached the street.After a quick sweep of the city, Lillie retrieved some souls in need of her and then retreated to the coastline. Lillie enjoyed the ocean and she stood on the edge and transmuted. She became one with the sea, listening to the sounds of the waves. She could hear every living creature in the depths of the waters and she transported back to the time of creation. As the Power basked in the thought of creation, she trailed back to the beginning when the Collective Consciousness was one. She watched as the universe took form, took shape and life evolved. Lillie was immersed in the rapture when she felt a disturbance. She was shaken out of her revelry by an intrusion that invaded her peace. Lillie needed to know what it was that was cold and void of life. As she lay over the water, her eyes peered through the mist as she formed to see the intrusion. On the shore Lillie spotted something or someone, interesting. She sensed a soul stealer or something more. She wondered if it had followed her from the club. What would a soul stealer be doing out here so far away from shelter with twilight soon upon the land? Lillie knew of no soul stealer that reveled in the twilight but here she saw and that intrigued her. As she heard the morning sun about to make its claim she realized she had to leave unnoticed for council. She arched towards the sky and swept up star born bound as a soft breeze, reaching upward like the cathedral. As she broke free towards the atmosphere, she sensed something familiar.

Excerpt from a novel I'm currently working on, tentatively titled Visitors to NeoAfrica.

Posted by Ronald T. Jones on July 4, 2008 at 11:00am

“Those ships are huge,” Von Dellums, Director of Fleet Intelligence voiced in a subdued tone. “How much do you think they mass?” He turned to look up at the very tall man standing beside him.Robert Mensah, Chief Advisor to the President of the NeoAfrican Federation blew out a thoughtful breath. “Hmmm. I’d say they’re twice the size of a Sofa Class Assault Cruiser. How well armed they are remains to be seen.”Both men were in a surveillance room inside the Command Complex, a military headquarters building located in the NeoAfrican Federation city of Niani. With a population in excess of 24, 000,000, this sprawling city was the Federation’s capital.The ships that blazed vividly across the table top holo grid appeared almost saurian. They were gray, bloated aberrations, unlike any configuration seen in NeoAfrican space. Their smooth hulls bore no identifying markings.Mensah, who had an eye for space vessels, locked on the forward ship and signaled the young officer on the opposite side of the grid. “Magnify that particular ship, if you please, Lieutenant.”The officer nodded and tapped commands on the grid keypad.The image of the selected ship expanded until it covered the grid display’s surface space.“The central section is so much larger than the forward and rear,” said Mensah, sweeping the image with an analytical eye. “That section either houses smaller craft or troop compartments.”“Or civilian quarters,” Dellums inserted with a speculation of his own. “Could be colony ships. Not necessarily military.”Mensah smirked, casting a dubious look Dellums’ way. “We both know colonization and military go hand in hand.”“True,” conceded Dellums with a smile. “But whatever those ships are, there are only three of them. We can safely assume that they’re not a threat.”Mensah settled his gaze back upon the holo image. “That too remains to be seen.”It was a ten minute commute by executive jet tube to the Noir House.Mensah exited the tube, where he was met by a man and a woman, both crisply attired in the uniforms of the Presidential Detail. Beneath the glitz and splendor that their bright gold tunics and matching slacks conveyed lay the keen ruthlessness of soldiers prepared to go to any lengths to protect their president.Mensah always joked that he was careful not to make any sudden movements in PD’s presence. Reality did not lurk far beneath the surface of his humor.The Noir House was an enormous manneresque building, tan in color with a black dome on top that radiated the sun’s reflection like a dark crystal. A gleaming needle of a pole protruded from the summit of the dome from which a black, green and red flag fluttered in the breeze. There were two entrances open to the public. Mensah was escorted through an underground walkway accessible only to officials with high level security clearances. Once inside the building, he stepped in an elevator that whisked him 30 floors up. When the doors opened, Mensah entered a spacious office.The first sightings that always caught the Chief Advisor’s eye were the breathtaking mounted wood carvings lining every wall in the office. The carvings were of faces and figures. The faces were holo realistic, each one distinguished from the other as if based on real individuals...which they probably were. The figures were less detailed, more abstract, but no less powerful an expression of an art form dating back to a preindustrial ancient Earth.One piece of art hung in the office that dwarfed the rest. It was an oil painted portrait, more than a thousand years old. Regular nano-regeneration kept the portrait looking as if it had been painted the day before. The portrait was that of a cinnamon complexioned man in his 60s. His starkly gray hair was closely cut, eyes dark and intense, jaw line rigid, the set of his mouth uncompromising, almost challenging.Mensah’s erect posture somehow became straighter.That was the kind of reaction the figure in the portrait still managed to evoke two thousand years after his death. For without the brilliant vision and direction of Kyle Marcus Brookins, NeoAfrica would never have come into being.Finally, Mensah took notice of the man beneath the portrait, President Ibrahim Dula, and the five military officers and cabinet ministers standing around his half-circle desk.“Mr. President,” Mensah addressed, approaching the desk.President Dula stood, extending a welcoming hand to the Chief Advisor. “Come in, Robert. We were just discussing our visitors.”The president was a large man with a neatly trimmed goatee speckled with white.. As a university student he had been a strength athlete. His bulky physique, though a little soft in the middle, still retained the raw power of his youth.Mensah greeted the guests as he took his place among them.Everyone, except Dula, then filed toward a long table at the corner of the office and took their seats.The president tapped a button on his desk, bringing to life a shimmering display void that floated a little higher than head level.“Now, we move from speculation to certainty,” said Dula.The face of a Fleet officer appeared on the display void. “Mr. President, unidentified ships are ten seconds from maximum communication range. A direct transmission feed has been established from your office to the coordinates of the incoming ships.” The officer paused, her attention captured by activity beyond the display void. She returned her focus to Dula. “The first ship has just entered comm. range, Mr. President, you may initiate contact at your leisure.”Dula beamed a gregarious smile. “Leisure is what I could use a good dose of these days. Thank you, Captain.”The officer’s image nodded and vanished from the void.“Director Dellums’ people will be monitoring your contact, Mr. President,” announced Mensah.“Very good, Robert.” The president fixed his eyes on the display void and spoke.“Unidentified ships. I am Ibrahim Dula, President of the NeoAfrican Federation. I bid you welcome.”No response.Dula was about to repeat his address when a man’s face materialized on the display.It was a pale face. Very pale. The hair was yellowish and straight, the nose extremely narrow and the lips thin to the point of nonexistence. The man’s complexion bore a pinkish tint off set by a pair of deeply set blue eyes.Mensah was fascinated. He had seen humans like the face on the display in historical texts. Never had he encountered one in person…so to speak.“Greetings, President Dula,” the man on the display announced, revealing a politic smile. His poet’s voice was infused with the robustness of one accustomed to leadership. “I am Admiral Gregor McCray, commanding officer of the Unity Expedition.”“Welcome, Admiral McCray,” said Dula, folding his hands on top of his desk. “How may we be of assistance?”Admiral McCray ran an idle finger along the bottom of his smooth shaven chin. “May we meet, sir?”The president raised his brow. “Certainly. It is not often visitors come to our part of space. Captain Johnson will escort you to a docking station in orbit. From there you will be ferried to my location.”“Thank you, Mr. President.” McCray inclined his head, and then his image faded.Defense Minister Cinthea Amari shook her head. “A white person. I’ve heard rumors that they exist.”The others around the table chuckled.“What do you think they want?” Tirel Vick, Director of the Analysis Bureau wondered.Mensah stared at the AB officer with hidden suspicion.The Analysis Bureau, like Fleet Intelligence, was tasked with covertly protecting the Federation from internal threats. Mensah, however, was concerned that the AB was trying to take on the role of king maker. Attempting to influence the outcome of the last presidential election (as the AB was rumored to have done, which Director Vick would no doubt have denied, if pressed) certainly fell far outside the bounds of the AB’s mandate.“The same thing we want,” President Dula replied, leaning back in his chair. “They want to know who we are. We want to know who they are.” The president gestured to the Defense Minister and the Minister of Internal Affairs, a small, wiry man named Kea Obasanji. “Cinthea, Kea, please receive our visitors at the docking station. Robert, you go along, too. Let’s give them a good first impression.”“Sir, with me present, I don’t know how good that impression will be,” Mensah quipped.Dula grinned. “There’s a risk in everything we do.”1,000 docking stations formed a loose-linked orbital ring around the planet Brookinsia. The most important of the stations hovered in geo-sync, directly above the capital city. The visitors’ ships were not allowed to dock there, however. Not only were they armed, as subsequent sensor sweeps discovered, but their size alone prohibited them from being anywhere within a half system of Brookinsia.Captain Anita Johnson of the Inceptor Cruiser, Douglass, had the visitor delegation transferred to her ship. From there, they were taken via shuttle to the docking station where they underwent a thorough scan search followed by decontamination.If the visitors, two men and a woman, felt any discomfort at being subjected to so rigorous an introduction, their gracious demeanors betrayed nothing of the sentiment. The visitors entered the VIP chamber, a large room with a window that offered a striking panoramic view of the planet below.Minister Obasanji was the first to speak.Minister Amari and Chief Advisor Mensah stood on either side of him. Four PD soldiers wearing gold colored cloaks observed the meeting from all four corners of the chamber. Their weapons, hidden beneath their cloaks remained out of sight so as not to unnerve the visitors.“Greetings,” said Obasanji, sounding a little nervous, in keeping with his jittery personality. “I am Kea Obasanji, Minister of Internal Affairs.” Obasanji gestured to the tall, regal woman to his right. “This is Defense Minister Cinthea Amari, and to my left, Robert Mensah, Chief Presidential Advisor.”Mensah took note of the visitors, particularly the older, shorter of the two males, the one called Admiral Gregor McCray. Until today, Mensah’s awareness of the range of complexions within the human race had been academic. Looking at these three strangers, now, it was almost shocking to him how light their skin was.The lightest NeoAfricans were shades darker than the pinkish hue of these people. The whites’ hair color and texture were radically different. McGregor, who appeared to be in his mid to late fifties, had a yellowish mane with a touch of gray on the sides. The taller, younger male had slightly darker hair, while the woman’s shoulder length light hair bore a highlight of red.All three visitors wore brown uniforms with overlapping dual circle insignias stenciled on the upper right portion of their tunics.McCray introduced himself, then indicated his companions. “My first officer, Erik Thorvald, and Jolene Karsen. She is a contact anthropologist.”“Contact anthropologist,” said Minister Amari, appraising the woman. “I take it encounters like this one are common occurrences for you.”The anthropologist smiled, “increasingly so, Defense Minister.Mensah’s eyes traveled across the woman’s body.Karsen was young, fit and appealing in an exotic way. If only her lips weren’t so damned thin.Obasanji waved a hand toward the chamber exit. “Shall we? The president awaits.”“By all means, sir. Lead the way,” said McCray.

Two nominations for Wind Follower

Posted by Carole McDonnell on July 3, 2008 at 8:07am

I told you earlier that Wind Follower was up for a nomination for the Clive Staples Award. Now I just found out that it's also been chosen as a nominee for the 2008 Pluto award. Nice, uh?It's the first year for the Clive Staples and the second year for the Pluto. Clive Staples Awards are for speculative fiction books that have a Christian worldview.I don't really know the guidelines for the PlutoThese are the nominees for the Clive Staples:Auralia’s Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet (WaterBrook)Demon: A Memoir by Tosca Lee (NavPress)DragonFire by Donita K. Paul (Waterbrook)Father of Dragons by L.B. Graham (P&R)Fearless by Robin Parrish (Bethany House)Flashpoint by Frank Creed (The Writers Cafe Press)Isle of Swords by Wayne Thomas Batson (Thomas Nelson)Landon Snow and the Volucer Dragon by Randy Mortenson (Barbour)The Legend of the Firefish by George Bryan Polivka (Harvest House)The Restorer by Sharon Hinck (NavPress)The Restorer’s Son by Sharon Hinck (NavPress)Scarlet by Stephen Lawhead (Thomas Nelson)A Wine Red Silence by George L. Duncan (Capstone Fiction)Wind Follower by Carole McDonnell (Juno Books)These are the nominees for the Pluto:FLASHPOINT by Frank CreedTHE LION VRIE by Christopher HopperBLUE by Melanie BudiartoIN EXILE by Joanne HallSHEPHERD'S QUEST by Brian S. PrattWIND FOLLOWER by Carole McDonnellTAU 4 by V. J. WaksHUNTER OF THE HORDE by Brian S. PrattVIRTUAL EVIL by Jana G. OliverTIME MASTERS: THE CALL by Geralyn BeauchampQUEST'S END by Brian S. PrattMASON'S LINK by Bill AndrewsIt really is an honor just to be included among these great stories. Good luck and blessings to all!

ACTION FIGURE ARRIVED!!

Posted by TheDigitalBrothers on July 2, 2008 at 12:03am

Finally, Good news on the action figure front. The prototype action figure came in the mail this week. Also, the mold so we can create more here at the shop so God willing, we will have a some available for sale during the holiday season. Hopefully, we will be able to produce the two other characters we want to put out before years end as well. We appreciate all your help and support for this project. It warms my heart to see that people see value in what we are trying to accomplish. We are trying to raise $10,000 to finance the 30 minute video movie so please donate $20 or more what you can, no amount will be turned away. Visit www.EarthSquadron.com do pre-order your action figure now.

An excerpt from my upcoming book, Twilight.

Posted by Ronald T. Jones on June 24, 2008 at 8:46pm

I stared out the forward drop pod window as the planet below expanded from a curvature cutting across our view to a dark, rugged blot. The nearer our descent the closer that blot revealed discernible surface features: mountains, trees, bodies of water, blast craters; swathes of land scoured black by thermal bombardment. Much of those areas encompassed space where population centers once existed.I soaked in the grim scene, tallying the numbers of dead Vingin in my mind. Reverse thrusts kicked in bringing about the drop pod’s near instantaneous deceleration. High gear inertials prevented that deceleration from turning myself and the hundred Tac-Assault Troopers onboard into a bloody stew. I swiveled my restraint chair around to face my soldiers. One hundred pairs of eyes burned resolutely into mine. I knew what these men and women were thinking. I knew what they felt. Beneath that implacable sense of duty that our society had drilled into us since birth, that the military had so vigorously reinforced, throbbed a lust for vengeance. The Tacherins’ murderous rampage through this sector was about to come to an end. The operation we were going to embark upon on the planet below signaled the beginning of the end of a vile and merciless enemy.No pep speech. My soldiers didn’t need one. They knew what the stakes were.I slapped my helmet visor in place.My soldiers did the same.I checked the capacity dial on my ME5 rifle. Full charge. I flicked a switch on my wrist band and a 3d map of a specific area on the planet stenciled itself across the top of my vision in perfect HUD placement.The map displayed a network of underground transportation arteries. Uin was an occupied planet. Several days of sustained orbital bombardment by human warships had targeted every known Tacherin position, pounding it to dust. Fierce ship to ship engagements had already cleared the skies of Tacherin fighters, granting humans complete atmospheric/near space superiority. It was now left to several divisions of TATs to exterminate the estimated five million Tacherins who had withdrawn beneath the surface.The pod doors whisked open, ushering in a blast of wind. We were about three thousand feet above the surface and closing at a vastly reduced rate of descent.I disengaged the restraint harness, stood up and grasped the overhead bar for balance. My soldiers followed suit.“Go!” I shouted, the heady expectation of battle infusing zest into my voice.Kelte, my second-in-command was first out of the pod. He was always the first. The others followed, two at a time, and then finally, as protocol dictated, me. Once airborne, hundreds of nodes, embedded in my elasti-armored suit, kicked in, surrounding me in a countergrav field. I exalted in the sheer thrill of this type of flight, more so the death dealing power we were bringing to bear against the enemy. Heavy compression tanks were already on the ground, doling out devastation in planet wide search and destroy missions. Roving tri-claw fighters, designed for close ground support, dominated the lower atmosphere picking off any Tacherin foolish enough to be in the open, or destroying any air defense system that dared offer challenge.Heavy artillery and missile launchers were ravenously active. I could see the distant fury of thousands of projectiles, their blazing contrails slicing the sky. Explosions flickered compulsively across the horizon where those projectiles impacted. Whatever Tacherin presence the orbital treatment failed to neutralize would surely have not stood a chance against the wrath of ground based fire.We landed uncontested amid the ruins of a once thriving city. Scorched rubble piles made for rough footing as we rapid-paced toward our objective: an entryway to one of thousands of underground thoroughfares across the planet. The entrance was an enormous oval shaped tunnel. The wide opening was obstructed by massive debris, save for a few narrow gaps.I spotted one of those gaps, called a halt, and turned to Kelte. “Make that hole bigger.”I could imagine the mischief-laden smile forming on Kelte’s ruddy face. He loved mayhem.“Fire Teams One and Two in position!” Kelte’s voice boomed through my audio receptors.A near instantaneous flurry of activity erupted around us as up to three dozen TATs, wielding rec-barrel beam launchers, clambered light-footedly up a perilous debris slope.Kelte relayed target data to the fire teams. As one the fire teams responded, high yield weapons leveled on the gap. The next second three dozen rec-barrels erupted, their lambent output blasting enormous furrows through tons of twisted metal, fused rock and glass. It took only four seconds for that relatively tiny gap to be expanded into a glowing entryway large enough to accommodate 50 soldiers abreast.“That big enough for you, sir?” Kelte queried, his voice brimming with mirth.“I suppose it’ll do,” I returned with equal mirth. I consulted my map of the underground complex we were about to enter. A mental blink clarified the chart to a stinging vividness. The picture before me was a vertical, convoluted network of transit lanes. I called up real time images of that same network, fed to me by recon probes. 220 probes we sent underground before our landing; 211 destroyed by enemy action. That wasn’t a major blow to our tactical Intel. Not in the least. The remaining 9 probes I tapped into told me everything I pretty much already knew: The underground was teeming with Tacherins. Every conveyance tube, every passenger terminal; every intersecting lane, every empty transit car; all reeked with the enemy.To say that the Tacherins were arrayed in open order formations was an understatement. There was no order in their positioning, no attempt at cover, no visible signs that they were going to maneuver upon contact. They knew they had lost this world. They knew any effort by their comrades to extract them was futile. They knew they were not going to surrender in spite of our impending victory.I dimmed the map, then switched my helmet’s com frequency to a private channel. “What’s your status, Dagger One?”“Ready on your mark, Commander,” replied a female voice.I glanced at Kelte and gestured forward. “Let’s go!”We advanced toward the tunnel mouth, fire teams in the van guard. The whine and shrieks of beam fire flooded my audio receptors before I plunged into the tunnel’s darkness. My helmet’s enhanced visual adjusted abruptly to the change in lighting. Blue white flares of beam fire, interspersed with vivid streaks of relativistic rounds zipped above our heads. So far, no TAT had been hit. Flashes of rec-barrel discharges ahead told me that the fire teams were mowing a deadly path. The path we were on started out as wide as the tunnel mouth, narrowing into a steep, downward slope.Electro-static traction in my boots enabled me to maintain superb balance even as I raced at full speed. Enemy fire grew heavier. Three soldiers in front of me and one on my right took hits from FTL projectiles. Each soldier was stopped in his tracks as if he’d run headlong into a full powered repulser field. Our armor proved resilient against shrapnel and all but the most powerful of Tacherin small arms. The Tacherin standard FTL-ejecting rifle was as formidable a weapon as any small arm our soldiers had faced. Thankfully, the enemy didn’t possess too many of those.More TATs fell. A helmeted head in front of me exploded. But for the heavy output of the fire teams, our fatalities thus far would have been much worse. This out and out frontal assault was not how I wanted to engage the enemy. I cursed DefenseCommand for concocting a strategy where thousands of its best troops were needlessly exposed to enemy fire just to prove that humans could best Tacherins in a stand up infantry fight.Nearing the bottom of the inclining lane I saw fire and smoke arising from the remains of transit vehicles the Tacherins had put in our path. Rec-barrel toting TATs hosed the barricade, turning it into a boiling inferno. A lethal flock of mortar discs sailed from the other side of the flames.“Get down!” I yelled, diving forward maybe a second before a rapid succession of thumps shook the ground. Someone tugged at my arm.“Come on, Commander,” urged Kelte. “A little soon to be relaxing don’t you think?”I muttered a profanity as he helped me to my feet. We continued our run.The bodies and body parts of an indeterminate number of TATs were scattered within the radiuses of small craters gouged by the mortar discs. The ground was slick with blood and entrails.We reached the outskirts of the barricade. Tacherins, many unarmored, emerged from the tangled heap of their cover, hundreds of long, lanky silhouettes pasted against an unforgiving wall of conflagration. Instead of falling back deeper into their makeshift defense, the Tacherins charged us, weapons blazing.I raised my ME5 and unleashed a scorching chatter of disruptor pellets into the oncoming enemy mass. I hit four Tacherins dead on, injuring a fifth when a flickering line of pellets severed the unarmored soldier’s arm at the shoulder. The smoke trailing limb plopped to the ground, its owner shockingly oblivious, continuing forward at a staggered pace.I finished the Tacherin off with a single pellet to the head. I spared perhaps two seconds to ponder the insanity, the unmitigated hatred that kept a grievously wounded Tacherin on its feet. Added to our disruptor pellet barrage were the sun bright crimson of rec barrel bolts. Tacherins by the dozens were reduced to disintegrating stick figures when hit directly by those highly combustive beams. Others caught in the vicinities of rec-barrel blasts were burned alive in rippling torrents of energized flame. Still, enemy fire, though diminished, exacted its deadly share. Even as the Tacherins charged relentlessly, we pushed forward into this savage mass, carving a sweltering pathway littered with their dead.More TATs fell, struck by FTL rounds. Mortar disks, the enemy’s only effective answer to our rec-barrels, were too few to be more than the irritants that they were. But wherever they impacted across our lines, the invariable results were TAT casualties. More often than not, the mortar disks claimed Tacherin lives. As we began negotiating flames to push through the barricade, the fierce press of opposing soldiers slowed our advance. TATs in the most forward positions reported hand-to-hand engagements, in spite of our best efforts to kill the enemy at arms length. But a fanatic resolve, demonic in its murderous manifestation, enabled some Tacherins to overcome the worst of our fire to come to grips with us.

Leviathan

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on June 23, 2008 at 4:30pm

Leviathanof flesh and steelRacing through streetsSoaring comet oftechnological geniusHis fists crush tonsof debris to dustHis sight travels milesover the designated horizonTorn from his life --crusheddisemboweledby madnessinferno and stoneTo be reconstructedby humanoid hands“And I’d rather be dead…”He remembers the whisperof a lover’s breath on his cheekthe head he cradled so gentlyagainst his shoulderAnd he has no tear ductsto give voice to his sorrowOnly the dreams ofhis hardwired heartnever forgottenImaginingsof her soft caressupon his metal browValjeanne Jeffers-Thompson 2008 All rights reserved

Boss Lady

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on June 23, 2008 at 1:30pm

Boss LadyWhen I said:“All I need is a computernotebook, and pento make me happy.”He sipped his drinkeyed me appreciativelyand called me:“Boss lady”Boss lady?Definition:an urban colloquialismfor a sisterwho takes care of businessand only needs -- wants --a man to hold herin between the timeshe’s taking care of businessI smiled,thought ofall the thingsI’ve been calledfor my independencefor the temerityto think I’m equal to a manBitchBall busterFunny how a namecan make you feel so ashamedAkin to calling white liberalsnigger loversBoss ladyI like itIt’s running neck and neckwith: “thunder and lightening”My brothers sure knowwhat to sayand I love itwhen they recognizethat strengthmakes a woman realValjeanne Jeffers-Thompson copywrite 2007 all rights reservedThis is another poem that I had a lot of fun writing, even more so because it based on actual events. As always, comments and critiques are welcome (smile).

Earth Squadron Action Figure Delayed 2 Weeks.

Posted by TheDigitalBrothers on June 21, 2008 at 10:30pm

Unfortunately, The action figure prototype which was sculpted in India is being delayed for two weeks. There was an error in shipping which will push the arrival date back 2 weeks. Lord willing, we will have some ready for the holiday season. Once this one is here we plan to make some custom figures for those that have supported the project so far. Next month we begin development of the enemy characters and then our first female character. This project is a bit ambitious but I am enjoying the ride. If you would like to see the preliminary pics of the main character. Please visit. www.EarthSquadron.com Every $20 donation is basically a pre-order for an action figure and trading card. If you donate, please leave us you contact info, full name, address, phone and email address.

Down Home Ecstasy (In tribute to Muddy Waters)

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on June 20, 2008 at 6:30pm

Down Home Ecstasy(In tribute to Muddy Waters)Listen to the BluesVisualizeCharcoal black sweet, sweat sinewsBroad, powerfulSunset of smudged peach,purple and orangeHoneysuckleFirefliesCotton dressesBrother testify with a harmonicaMake it preachBaby, do your thingBoss man’s goneNow, here is love and rhythmHere is pathos in wailing songA woman loungesA child’s head in her lapHeads thrown backSpines arched and proudListen:Can’t you hearSong give birth?Can’t you hear that cryLike throaty thunder?Can’t you feel its caressSultry and strong?Blackness pure, undilutedLike well waterDipped up to a pair of full lipsPouring down a long graceful neckAin’t nothing like the BluesCopyright Valjeanne Jeffers-Thompson 2007 all rights reservedFirst appeared in PemBroke Magazine 2007This is one of my favorite poems cause I love the Blues -- and I had so much fun writing it.Muddy Waters, Howling Wolf, John Lee Hooker... are true stoytellers (smile)!

Earth Squadron Action Figure Prototype Complete.

Posted by TheDigitalBrothers on June 3, 2008 at 8:30pm

Earth Squadron Action Figure Prototype Complete. We plan to make 8 to 10 action figures over the next few years. The prototype of the first figure is now done and almost ready for production. Pray for us. We may just be ready to go to market by year's end. Just in time for Christmas and Kwanza. If you would like to see the preliminary pics of the main character. Please visit. www.EarthSquadron.com Every $20 donation is basically a pre-order for an action figure and trading card. If you donate, please leave us you contact info, full name, address, phone and email address.

Afro-Future Females: Black Writers Chart Science Fiction's Newest

Posted by Carole McDonnell on May 31, 2008 at 7:28am

New-Wave TrajectoryClick to order via AmazonHardcover: 304 pagesPublisher: Ohio State University Press; 2 edition (May 8, 2008)Language: EnglishISBN-10: 0814210783Afro-Future Females: Black Writers Chart Science Fiction's NewestNew-Wave Trajectory, edited by Marleen S. Barr, is the firstcombined science fiction critical anthology and short storycollection to focus upon black women via written and visual texts.The volume creates a dialogue with existing theories of Afro-Futurism in order to generate fresh ideas about how to apply race toscience fiction studies in terms of gender. The contributors,including Hortense Spillers, Samuel R. Delany, Octavia E. Butler,and Steven Barnes, formulate a woman-centered Afro-Futurism byrepositioning previously excluded fiction to redefine sciencefiction as a broader fantastic endeavor. They articulate a platformfor scholars to mount a vigorous argument in favor of redefiningscience fiction to encompass varieties of fantastic writing and,therefore, to include a range of black women's writing that wouldotherwise be excluded. Afro-Future Females builds upon Barr'sprevious work in black science fiction and fills a gap in theliterature. It is the first critical anthology to addressthe "blackness" of outer space fiction in terms of feminism,emphasizing that it is necessary to revise the very nature of agenre that has been constructed in such a way as to exclude its newblack participants. Black science fiction writers alter genreconventions to change how we read and define science fiction itself.The work's main point: black science fiction is the most excitingliterature of the nascent twenty-first century.About the Editor: Marleen S. Barris a science fiction pioneer who broke new ground in feministscience fiction criticism with her book Alien to Femininity:Speculative Fiction and Feminist Theory. She won the Science FictionResearch Association Pilgrim Award for Lifetime Achievement inscience fiction criticism.

Sarah Caullings Private Journal 4

Posted by Matt on May 30, 2008 at 8:41pm

Why couldn’t it be contained? Why could we not control it? The purpose of the virus seemed so clear to me, yet the way it evolved from host to host made it so complex. We were such fools to think that we could control such an intense for of nature. I was such a fool to think that I could escape fates cruel joke. I was so selfish to allow things to get this far yet blame everyone else for my families fate.I still remember the day the corpses were brought back from Japan. There was a big commotion about it because there were a slew of company policies that were being broken. First was the willful contamination of this entire country by bringing a foreign virus with no known cure across the ocean. There were also the typical customs violations being broken by both governments. As well as what some could argue as aiding in the genocide on numerous Japanese citizens. Nevertheless, the male and female corpses were brought to the port of our branch office in Georgia where they stayed in cryogenic stasis for the next six months. During that time, and unknown to the world public as well as much of the CDC, there was an ongoing debate as to what should be done with these two guests.There were many arguments, more for then against I should add, about the benefits of keeping and researching this new virus. Myriam Stanley, public relations director, stated that having such a deadly virus brought into the United States was deadly two fold. First being that no one civilian knew that they were being placed in such incredible danger. The public would turn rabid on the CDC if word got out that we were playing with their lives in such an underhanded way. Second, she stated that if word got out to other countries that the CDC was working on a virus that had already claimed hundreds of lives, there would be rumors of chemical warfare and a third world war may be on the horizon. As much as we all wish we had heeded her warnings, the words from the Board of Directors spokesperson Craig Bernard were the most damaging to Myriam’s cause. Craig started with the typical bureaucratic speech of how ludicrous it was for anyone to believe that it was possible that a war could start under scientific premises. “Plausible Deniability” was one of the phrases he used, as well as “Selective Disinformation.” What he was saying was that regardless of what happened with the virus we could deny the entire story or selectively tell the media and public whatever information makes them feel better about our findings. He went a few steps further and said that, “It is our duty as public humanitarians to try and help humanities odds of survival against any threats be it biologically human made or born in the wild.” You would be surprised at how many people by the idea that playing God is plausible when given the right monkey see monkey do show.After hearing the same rhetoric back and forth I decided to stand in and make my point. I stated that it was no one’s intent to mislead or hinder the public in any way. Regardless of what happens with the virus the CDC will hold full accountability to it. I stated regardless of the humanitarian rights that our company held to, we have already thrown them all out of the window for individual self-exploiting reason. We were already in the middle of an election year as well as a possible recession that had American and many other nations on the verge of financial down turn. With so much negative on the worlds plate the ability to use one of the most lethal viruses to help humanity would give light and a new cause for many people to get behind and stand for. Was the world or my family my biggest concern when I made my speech? Honestly, no. My newly found breast cancer made my choice long before this meeting convened. Hearing two years before during a random check up that a tumor was found in my right breast and one year later that another tumor was found, I was at a point in my life that anything that would save me was worth ANY risk. Hindsight being what it is I now know that it was no one but I that dealt the death blow to human kind. Once the meeting adjourned the Board of Directors met again and decided that tests would proceed on the virus in an attempt to unlock the secrets to its regenerative properties.What brought me to the Center for Disease Control in the mid-nineties originally was not the thirst for knowledge or even the idea to help humanity over come natures most vile plagues. It was a pure unadulterated want to secure a place for myself and my family amongst the fittest. A want to have my name with the greats of history for the entire world to know that I helped stop another killer from wiping out an entire people. With that want and drive I dedicated my entire life to observing, learning about, and watching the different virus’s and illnesses across the world wipe out entire populations. Today I stand on a platform that will now end the lives of what seems to be some of the last survivors in Concord North Carolina. It does not matter anymore how this has happened, only that in end in the most just and swift manner possible.Sarah Caullings CDC Q.A Administrator

Sarah Caullings Private Journal 3

Posted by Matt on May 29, 2008 at 4:09pm

If any of my journals are being read, I imagine that I am either dead or under investigation by the United States government as well as many others. I cannot say that the leaving of these journals is any attempt to clear myself of any wrong doing in this specific incident. Rather these journals are my attempt to shed light on a matter that may very well cost the entire population of the world their lives. I am just as responsible if not more so than the virus for the deaths of so many people, that at this moment I cannot concern myself with the personal repercussions of airing the dirtiest laundry that the world has ever known. The events in these journals are true the last details. NO names have been withheld, unless they were not known to me. Max….Charles, I am so sorry for what I have had to do.Our days ago my team landed in South St. Paul Minnesota for quarantine and pacification. There were a few plans considered on how to perform this task in the least riskful way. There was nothing that I could say to my team or higher ups that could sway their decision, so all I asked was that they allow me to quarantine my neighborhood. Even though my area was of a decent size, my conscience would not allow that many people to go in with gun blazing with no mercy and no heart to kill those that I’ve known for many years. The final agreement was that I would come back in town and go about my normal day. While I was acting as basic bait for the others, two of the six members left in my team would go through the area at night and cleanse it of any non-essential personnel.I called home as I usually do after I’ve been away for some time and had my husband Charles invite a few of the local CDC girls to the house for dinner. This is something that we do to welcome each other back after a long time off, as well as to catch up on the latest gossip. The only difference this time is that some of the girls knew why I had left in the first place. Dinner started at around seven and my started quietly gathering residents at seven thirty. After dinner, Charles volunteered himself to clean up so that the girls and I could go chat in the living room and have a few drinks. I’m not sure if it was the drinks or the food, but there was an air of tension so think that I thought I was being strangled by the looks in the room. Gladys Walsh finally cut the nerves in the room by saying that, “The business I had been tending to was a little to hush hush,” for her liking, and that there is no reason for me to keep everything so quiet to them all of a sudden. This sparked the rest of the women to throw their ill mannered tempers into the fray and open the door for a conversation that my home was not the place for. Bethany Hayden actually said that the company was getting what it deserved by having this virus run loose with no way for us to control it. By that time, I lost all control over my usual patient self, and told them all to leave. Had they known that I had come back in an attempt to help save their lives, they have reacted a little different to this situation. I know they were surprised to have been kicked out, because they slammed their car and my house doors so hard that I thought they were going to come off the hinges.When I came back in I saw Charles talking to Max about eaves dropping on other people’s conversations and how he should know better than to do such a thing. I couldn’t bear to watch my son in his final hours being yelled at by my husband, so I went upstairs and took a long cold shower to help calm my nerves.Late that night I made contact with my team who informed me that Gladys Walsh was dead. Her husband Nate had been infected and murdered her sometime in the night after she had gotten home. The problem now was that Nate was nowhere to be found. The teams where on the verge of breaking cover and calling in extra help when I ordered them to stand their ground. Maybe it was my voice or maybe it was the fact that they knew how close I was to the Walsh’s, but they listened somewhat and told me that I had twenty four hours to take him down before they acted. I went back to bed at around 4 a.m. and found Charles waiting up for me. He has a way for knowing when things are building up inside of me, and for the life of me I can never hold back from him. So, in a last attempt at stopping him before I let everything come pouring out of me I kissed him. I kissed him so passionately that he completely submitted himself to me. We made love for the last time for two hours before finally falling asleep in each other’s arms.I awoke again yesterday morning at around eleven o’clock after a long night of tossing and turning to find my home was empty. I went in the living room and found my little max, Mighty Max, on the couch playing his Xbox online. I asked him if he knew where his father was, and he told me that he went out for a round of golf a few hours ago and would be back later. After making sure the area was relatively safe, I told Max that I was going to see the Walsh’s and would be back in a few hours or so. I left in my little Ford Taurus at twelve o’clock to see if I could find the late Nathan Walsh before anymore harm could be done. For the entire ride I had my silenced nine millimeter pistol on my side next to my portable stun gun just in case the situation turned bad very quickly. After driving for about an hour I decided to recircle the area back towards my house. I figured that maybe my target had taken the back yards and snuck by me when I was passing through.When I made my way to my back yard I saw it. Nate Walsh on the ground with an incredible wound to his head, and Max running in the house with blood on his arm. My heart dropped when I saw what happened. I ran over to Nate quickly and put one solid shot between his eyes to make sure that he would not come back. I radioed my team that the target was neutralized and needed an immediate evacuation of his body. Within a few moments I had taken his body to the side of the house so that my team could come in and take the murdering bastard away from my house. They asked if there had been and casualties, and me being the good soldier that I am, I told them about Max. My team wanted to go ahead and secure my home as well, but I assured them that I would handle it. After a few moments of sly glances they agreed on another twenty four hours before they would return to clear out the entire area. In those twelve hours they were to sweep the rest South St. Paul and debrief and decontaminate all personnel.Charles returned home at about 4 p.m. I waited to go back into the house because I didn’t want Max to think that I had seen what happened with Nate. The entire rest of the night Max was incredible quiet not to mention wearing a long sleeve shirt. Charles made a comment about wearing long sleeves at this time of year, but I didn’t have the heart to join in with the joke. I excused myself from the table an hour into the dinner and when asked if I needed to talk, I told Charles that I was going to go for a midnight walk alone. I left the house and ran as fast as I could down the street towards and old shallow lake. I’m not sure how long I was there, but I know that I have never in my life cried as much as I did then. How was I supposed to Kill the only two people that were left in my life in cold blood? How was I supposed to be a part of a plan that was set in motion because of my very actions? Easy. Because Charles and Max were dead the second that this virus was allowed to leave Japan. After a few hours of soul searching and begging to God to allow my family and friends safe passage into Heaven I made my way back to the house into a warm yet cold bed.This morning was much the same as yesterday. I awoke to a seemingly empty house at around 10 a.m. I cleaned myself up and picked up my firearm and made way for the living room. With my silencer attached I knew that their deaths would be quick and relatively painless. As I made my way into the kitchen I saw the second sight of the week that completely broke my spirit. I imagine that Charles was making dinner when it happened. Max was on top of him literally eating his throat. I hope that it happened quickly, but I know it was torture. Seeing his only son walking limply towards him moaning in a lifeless dirge. Knowing Charles he probably went to see what was wrong with him up close when Mighty Max locked his teeth into his neck. As soon as I came into the room max looked up from his breakfast appetizer towards his new entrée. He locked our eyes for a few moments and stared at each other with what was probably the same gaze. Both of us now heartless soulless shells of what we were. I called his name twice with no response. Max looked through me with a gaze so menacing that I chilled my bones. Once our dancing waltz was over Max made his move. He leapt towards me with a speed that I thought only a world class sprinter would have. But just as soon as he was up running he was down on his back with a dime sized hole smoking from his head. The training from the NSA must have paid off, because I didn’t even realize that I pulled the trigger. Once my job in my former house was done I called for my evac. squad so that I could leave that place once and for all.With that task finally completed the rest of the team meet up so for briefing on Able squads mission in North Carolina. The task of blacking out the area went off without a hitch, at least until the power came back on a few hours later. Able is still in the area, but they are asking for our assistance in controlling the area. Now that I have completed a job that has left me without a family, friends, or a home I could care less about where we go. I’ve been to Hell, and while I was there I sent everyone I love to Heaven.Sarah Caullings CDC Q.A Administrator

Sarah Caullings Private Journal 2

Posted by Matt on May 28, 2008 at 8:40pm

So much death. So many good innocent people now lost because of our misguided actions. This was never meant to cause such a tragedy, but it shall go down in history as the single most destructive event in the history of man. Maybe this is how Judgment Day was supposed to come. Maybe this is the will of God that we have acted out. Man against man, in a battle for supremacy; Darwin's survival of the fittest at its most extreme. No….. this is no biblical prophecy. We get no pass from the death that we have caused this day. This is the most self-fish act of man that has ever come to pass.Had I known that in my tenure with the CDC would involve being a part of a "Quarantine Group", which in actuality is nothing more than a death squad, I imagine I would not have given so much of my life to this agency. Granted, not every supervisor is required to go through military weapons training, it is necessary for any individual that travels to countries and areas of the United States that have pose a possible threat on a global scale. Just as well, not many individuals that are not a part of the specific training even know of its existence. I myself am no completely sure that this is the first time that the order has been given to use this defense training in such an obviously aggressive manner. Some of my co-worker that have been with the Center a bit longer than I have seem to know the basic drills and nuances by heart and feel. It's as if they've been in the situation before, even though the entire time that I have been here no one has come across and anything more than the typical bookworm/science geek stereotype.It's been a few weeks since the original outbreak shook the CDC to its core, and we are still no better off than we began. We've begun pacifying known regions that have been infected by the modified virus with less than stellar results. Two teams, Bravo and Charlie, have been blacked out for the past forty-eight hours. We have limited information regarding their current situation, except that they reached their respective quarantined zones on schedule and have been out of contact since landing conformation was made. It is believed that the combined efforts of the CDC and the NSA's black-ops groups underestimated the numbers and effectiveness of the virus when the strike force plans were made. To imagine that there are so many of these things that they could overwhelm two incredibly strong mobile groups has me quite worried.There has been some amount of success with this mass quarantine initiative. Though there are still many internet posts being made on numerous websites, most notably in a rural area of North Carolina, we have been able to intercept the majority of them before there is lot of commotion about credibility. This gave us a chance to find the exact area that the survivors are located so that we could secure any individuals that could cause any damage on a national level to our primary objective. The plan that we have for that specific area is multi phase. First, we are to cause a mass power outage that will give our people a chance to get in without being seen. Then we will escort our "guests" to an unknown location for debriefing and decontamination. I hope that this will give us some insight as to the level of threat we are dealing with as well as shed a new light on how we may be able to end this plague once and for all.Now though comes my hardest task, the pacification of my home city. It has been passed own from the top that there has been an outbreak and all are to be decontaminated. In my heart, I know what that means, but I have not yet been able to accept the idea. My group will be leaving soon, so I will end this journal with hope. Hope that the world will forgive its people for causing damage that may never be undone. Hope that my family and friends can find it in their souls and hearts to forgive me for doing what I have to do next. Hope that there will be an end to this without anymore needless bloodshed. Without that hope, I have less than nothing to hold to.Sarah Caullings CDC Q.A Administrator

Day Eleven

Posted by Matt on May 28, 2008 at 8:39pm

Day Eleven (revised)Told you I'd be back didn't I. Just in time to tell you that we have all officially lost our shit. I am not joking, playin around, or bullshitting in any way. We are all officially committable as of yesterday. How do I know this you might ask? Easy, cause I have never laughed so hard in mu friggin life. And I imagine that if you saw a couple of slow walking douches that were trying to eat your face off slipping on cooking oil you'd laugh to.So here's where we stand as of now. April and Dog boy are history. No one knows for sure where they went, but they are nowhere to be found. I can't say that I honestly care at this moment, because they knew the consequences before the stepped outside. I think for the most part the rest of the group thinks the same thing of them. To throw their own lives away out of pure selfishness in light of what happened to their supposed friends shows the types of people that they really were. Granted April probably was the most gullible of all of u, she still knew what was going on regardless of what Cujo told her. Two people short made the rescue mission that much harder. I mean hell I would have happily tossed both of their dumb asses in front of me as a shield, or loved to pop one between their eyes after they turned into type three's.Regardless of being to retards short, having a resolve as steeled as ours made us nothing short of unstoppable. I'd say ask the dumbies (dumb zombies) but if they could talk, there weren't many left in the manhole area once we were done reigning fire and pissin bullets. The Pipe bomb idea worked damn well. We made a concoction of live ammo ammonia and some other stuff that Brian got off of the internet. The way we rolled out of the garage with guns blazing and bombs incinerating was unbelievable. I wish I had a camera to video tape some of this stuff…..wait. Man fuck we are in Wal-Mart aren't we, why the hell didn't I think of that beforehand. Ah well, that's another days tale, in case they get Will Smith to play me in the movie. Back to the shit. We were all popping heads like piñatas full of chocolate. When we got to the manhole I think I saw Brian staring off in the woods, but I'm not sure what caught his attention. It may have been what I think is called the thousand yard stare. Something that war vets get when they've been in the field to long. Whatever it was didn't last long, because he got his head back in it when Freddie dropped the manhole cover back down. That's when we unloaded on the rest of them full throttle like world was gonna end.It's kinda like we're moving in sequence now. I guess after being in this type of position for over a week we've started to know and trust each other more. Once we got inside Fred hit the door but it was delayed to long. Tough shit for them. We didn't care anymore quite honestly. And to prove it Brian went over to his computer and jumped on the internet in the middle of the fight. What a fucker right?Now back to the really funny shit after our little Patrick Swayze Wolverines rescue mission we were swarmed with those things. We finally started to gain the upper hand on them using a hell of a lot of our ammo when we made it to the roof of the garage. For some reason we thought it would be funny to see how these things react to cooking oil in their current walking state. We drilled huge holes in the roof and poured down ridiculous amount of cooking oil and watched Ice Skating with the Undead right in front of our eyes. Now imagine if you will, someone that limps and pulls one leg as they are walking. Got that. Now imagine that same person walking sliding around like Disney on Ice. There aren't many things that can make me cry in a good way, but I'm telling you That is one of them. Wanna know what another one of those things is. How bout me deciding to go down stairs and start up some of the service equipment. One of the things in the garage grabbed a hold of the automatic tire remover and got its hand yanked clean off. And the Stupid thing just stood there. It was just looking and staring aimlessly like it didn't know what was going on.Once they were all completely incapacitated we went down stairs I cleats so we could walk, and popped them once in between the eyes to end the day. Brian and Mastaff put kitty litter over the floor to soak up all of the oil. One of these days we're going to have to get to the truck, so we're gonna need to keep the garage safe for us. What a day. At least we survived this one without anymore loses. Ya know, these guys aren't so bad after all.

Day Ten

Posted by Matt on May 28, 2008 at 8:39pm

It's like all we are is flies waiting to get swatted down. The plan somewhat worked, but now we're down three more people. Will gave his life trying to help get the power back on, and April and Cujo have gone A.W.O.L on us. Things are a bit hectic right now so I'm gonna keep this short and sweet.About two days back when the power went out on us we came up with a plan to get everything back on. We were still using the exercise bikes as back-ups while Freddie finalized his plan to get the main grid back up. He main plan was to have Freddie go through a man hole to get to the generators and have Will standing ready as in case he had to go in after him. Keyser and Brian had taken their places on the roof to provide cover fire while Fred was going down. From what I was told there were a few stragglers that got past Brian and Keyser, so will was going to move around and take them out. Since he wasn't as use to repelling as Freddie was wound up kicking himself of too much that he slices his hand on a piece of metal as he tried to catch himself. That was pretty much it for him. He dropped down about half the way to the ground right above a pack of teeth. Brian and Keyser tried to pull him up, but with so much literal dead wait pulling back it was hopeless.Now here comes the funnest part. While I'm keeping an eye on the inside as Mastaff is riding the cycle, I notice April and Cujo are nowhere in sight. I tell Mastaff to hold tight for a minute while I went scout for them. As soon as I turn the corner into the grocery aisle I see the two of them grabbing as much food and supplies as their greedy bodies could handle. As best as I can figure between dog boy's best friend getting killed and April's near death experience with him, the decided that making a run for it was a good option. Whatever it was I guess they didn't expect to see me looking for them. I imagine that they thought I would be too preoccupied to notice that they were gone. I spoke to both of them at the same time and see who would blame what and what bullshit excuse would get thrown out. Needless to say I was pretty much head on with my assumption. April starting balling say that she was scared and too young to die (which how a 45 year old with talon's claws replacing her crow's feet is young I dunno) and that Cujo promised her that he knew a way out of everything. Cujo in turn says that he'd rather face those things outside than sit in her and end up like Theresa. I held myself in check as best as I could and tried to stroke their ego's a little bit. I told Cujo that he was the bravest on out of us all, and the April had a knack for solving problems that was invaluable. This proves that God isn't watching us, cause if he had been I would have been struck down right there for telling that massive ass lie. At about that same time I hear the others coming back, so I gather the moron squad and head back to Mastaff.That basically catches everything up to about 3 hours ago. Brian's taking the loss of Will and the near desertion of April and Cujo pretty bad. I had to talk him out of shooting them both on the spot for being so stupid. Right now we're getting a plan together to go and get Freddie, but it's gonna be tough. I'll see if I can whip up some pipe bombs and gather what all ammo we have left. Ya know, with all of this happening how could it be that NO ONE has gotten a whiff of the chaos that's been going on. There's no way that an entire city can be massacred and no one have any idea about it. Well that's a question for later, right now we've got some heads to bust. I Will post again.

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