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Well, I've been reluctant to post my own work here for quite sometime. But, Copyscape exists, and that makes me happy. So, I'll post a story or two.

Anyway, what follows is the first chapter of my pet project novel, "Wasteland Hero." Please give me honest reviews if you read it! (And don't steal it) Thank you in advance!
(Note: This story, and others, can be read on my FanStory account: Portfolio for Anonymous Reader )

NOTE: Had to cut it in two posts. Was wayyyy over the limit.

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"So, kid," Jonathan said, his mouth full of lamb. "Your first patrol's tomorrow, ain't it?"

Luke sighed and looked down at the untouched lamb on his plate. Poking at it slightly with a simple fork, the teenager let out an evasive grunt and shifted his eyes off to the side, focusing on the whitewashed brick wall of his nondescript house.

"You don't sound too excited," Jonathan said, picking at the rest of the lamb on his plate and gorging it down. "When I was your age, going on my first patrol, I was bouncing off the damn walls. The chance to shoot one of those son of a bitch Raptors, having the whole village depend on you, seeing things that none of these farmers'd ever see."

"I'm scared," Luke said, looking down at his plain, white plate.

"What was that?" Jonathan dropped his meat and stood up from his chair, looming over his son with rage building in his eyes. "Repeat that, boy."

"I-I said...I said that I'm scared, father," Luke stammered, his voice losing confidence by the second as he continued to look down.

"I can't believe this. The village is depending on you, and you're 'scared.' Hell, kid." Jonathan slammed his hand down onto the three-legged, wooden table, causing the plates it held to jump. "You were always a pussy. A good-for-nothing, wimpy pussy!"

Luke knew better than to speak back to his father. One wrong word and he'd get a swift punch in the face, a lesson the young boy learned well growing up all of his sixteen years. However, Jonathan's words pierced Luke's heart. Every insult was like a fiery arrow in his torso, sending shots of emotional pain coursing throughout his body. Jonathan sat down with a grunt, but Luke knew he wasn't finished. The old man needed more insults to sate his rage.

"Listen up, you damn pussy. Your first patrol's important - this time, it's special. Some parley with those Raptor bastards, or something like that. If you screw this up - if you do not bring honor to your family, then so help me God, you will find yourself out of a family." Jonathan's words slammed into Luke like a hailstorm of bricks. The boy's feelings spilled out from his heart to his mouth, and he shot up from his chair.

"Shut up, old man! Can you stop putting me down for one damn - " Luke cut himself off before he finished and simply stared at his father in shock. He hadn't spoken his mind in years.

Jonathan didn't even take the time to be stunned. The tall, middle-aged man shot his arms upon the table and flipped it over, then took a giant stride to loom over Luke. With one swift movement of his muscular arm, Jonathan grabbed at the collar of his son's white shirt and pulled him up. Roaring in anger, the man slammed a balled fist into Luke's cheek, sending the boy's head twisting into the blow's direction. Fear overtook the boy's face as pain throbbed all over it. Luke fully expected to get hit for his stupid outburst, but that foresight did nothing to alleviate the burning bruise.

"Don't you ever speak out of turn with me, child," Jonathan said, pulling Luke face in close to his. He then continued, speaking directly into Luke's ears. "Tonight, you sleep in the cold and shit in the dirt."

Luke's mind scrambled in horror as Jonathan hauled him out the door of their one room house and slammed him into the cold dirt outside. As he hit the ground, Luke closed his eyes to shut himself from the harsh reality of his situation. The sound of the door slamming calmed him slightly; his father was no longer looking. Rolling over in the dust, Luke stood up and began to look for a place to sleep.

The village was a humble little settlement in the barren plains. Miserable, brown dirt surrounded the place on every side, and the same misery seeped into the village itself. Luke walked past the plain, single roomed brick houses that constituted the residency of the area, and their sights were none too spectacular. Not luxurious, but still a far better alternative to taking a nap in the dirt. Luke would have a cold sleep.

Moving past the village's water converter, slipping over its sleek rods, wires, and machinery, Luke found himself wishing it wasn't the day before Initiation. Then, at least, there would be people about at such a young hour of the night. However, the villagers were all busy congratulating their valiant sons and praying for the safety of the patrol. After all, tomorrow's mission was pretty important.

Just then, as if his prayer was promptly answered, Luke made out the shape of a plump person ahead of him, standing in front of a large house. As the boy got closer to it, he recognized the house as one of the farmer's homes. They were rather luxurious homes, boasting not one, but two rooms, as well as a stable for animals. The man turned in Luke's direction as the boy moved towards him.

"Hey! Hey! Hey, what're you doin' out here? It's Pre Initiation!" The chubby man yelled at Luke, waving his hand frantically. Luke stopped in front of him and waved his hands harmlessly, hoping to avoid misunderstanding.

"It's alright, it's alright, I'm with tomorrow's patrol," Luke said, part of him hoping to impress the man.

"Oooh, you with the patrol? Oh! Oh, hey, you're Luke! Jonathan's boy. Ah, that Jonathan. Damn fine Patrolman if I ever saw one. 'Ey, I've been praying for you today! I'd better pray extra hard since you came to see me, ya?" The man continued, a smile materializing on his plump, red face as he went on. "But, boy, what're ya doin' here, anyway?"

"Well, you see...My father kicked me out of the house," Luke said, gathering his courage to look the man in the eyes as he spoke those words. The wide man's face lit up in surprise, and his placed his hands together.

"Oooh...Why?" The man asked.

"Long story, sir."

"Well! Well, well, well!" The man clapped his hands together, then slammed them onto Luke's shoulders with a fresh smile. "Can't have a new Patrolman sleep in the dust until he's out on patrol! Bad luck, brings bad spirits! Say no more, say no more! Tonight, you will sleep in the stables! I would offer you a bed, but alas! My family is not as generous as I!"

Luke eyes lit up. The generosity offered by this man held a stark contrast to his father. For a moment, he wished that this man would be his father instead, then Luke would be free of his patriarch-pleasing shackles...But he shook his head, dismissing the thought. That could never happen.

"Th-thank you very much, sir!" Luke said, bowing his head. The plump man laughed and shook the boy's short, black hair with an outstretched hand and pointed him to the stables. The building itself was a small room with an overpowering odor of animal dung and old hay. A small hole studded the roof of the humble abode, with a noticeable wet spot in the hay underneath it. The sound of sleeping animals' gentle breathing coursed through the air as fields of yellow bristles rested on the floor, inviting in their warmth and comforting appearance. It was no bed, but it was far better than dirt. Luke laid down on a particularly soft-looking patch of hay and quickly lulled into a dull sleep.


The peeping sun came far too soon to prod Luke from his light slumber. Forcing his eyes open, the young man let out a grunt and got to his feet. Brushing stray bits of hay from his pants, he shuffled out of the stable to be greeted by the hustle and bustle of village life. Villagers from all over the settlement were hurrying over to the center, a place of assembly and debate. As he watched the people, burly and skinny alike, rushing towards the center with their children in tow, the realization that they were gathering to see the patrol off - his patrol, dawned upon Luke.

Crap, I forgot my weapons at home! Luke thought. With this urgent message burning on his mind, he rushed back towards his own home, pushing through the light crowds. After a bout of sprinting and heavy breathing, the young man finally came upon his modest house. Just then, a fear entered his head. Would Jonathan forgive him for forgetting his essential tools, as well as being late? Luke's father wasn't exactly the most personable man, and if Luke knew him, Jonathan would answer his negligence with a swift punch in the face. With this black cloud hovering over his head, Luke mulled over to the door and sat down. On something hard.

With a startled leap, he looked down. His arms! The family revolver, passed down from Jonathan's father down to Jonathan and then to Luke, rested outside of the door, looking as imposing as ever. Not only that, but Luke's hunting rifle lay looming over the hand cannon, its sleek, beautiful brown barrel dipping off in Luke's direction, its single eye staring into the distance. With a wide grin on his face, the patrolman-to-be gripped his revolver and placed it into his side holster, then slung the rifle over his back. Just having the guns on his person made him feel more confident. Out in the dangerous Barrens, your gun was your life, and Luke knew that. Who knew when marauding Raptors would come to assault the village, or the crafty Goblins? Not only that, but the threat of other villages always lurked over the minds of the village Dust. Resources were limited, and human beings looked after themselves and families first - species second.

__________________
I'm just a guy who's ill at ease and only knows how to write.

Madness - simply no way to live.

Hearing the commotion increase, Luke turned and ran towards the village center, earning a view impressed glances and good-luck hoots. As he ran, Luke felt the familiar sensation of his weapons bobbing at his side and back, a feeling that brought him a strange sort of comfort. Time spent shooting targets out in the Dustlands, training to become a patrolman, was time away from Jonathan. It was a beautiful sort of destructive escape.

After a few minutes, Luke made it to the center of the village. Hundreds of his kin had gathered around the great monument of a United Earth Federation Marine, donning his heavy suit of powered armor and wielding a powerful assault rifle - fabled weapons of the past capable of firing many shots at once, now sacred relics. As Luke stared at the statue of the marine, he smiled, noting its effect on morale. He had heard tales that some strange force had caused human beings to be taken from a land of lush green - some elders of the village called it "Earth" - and planted them on this barren dustbowl of a place. Humanity faced many problems and strange creatures, Luke heard, but conquered them through the only thing that mattered in the world : firepower. However, due to a lack of resources, humans spread out farther and farther from their original location, in search of greener lands. The result spoke volumes in places like Luke's humble village: A backwater farming community struggling to grow crops, hunt game, and draw water while depending on ancient technology. Although no one quite remembered where the original human settlement was, the statue of the marine still stood as a hope for mankind's conquest of his surroundings.

"Hey, Luke," a familiar voice said, approaching from behind the boy. Luke turned around to see a face he knew very well, with its piercing black eyes and slick, short blonde hair, wearing a confident grin. Someone Luke would recognize anywhere, Adam.

"You're actually on time! I'm surprised, man! I thought the patrol would leave without you!" Adam laughed, slamming a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Of course I'm on time! I wouldn't let old man Nate hammer me for being late," Luke replied, his hand shaking Adam's opposite shoulder. The two friends tossed their heads back and laughed as they waded through the crowd and met with the rest of their patrol unit. The unit itself was an interesting medley of people. From an outsider's point of view, it would have looked like a ragtag militia group. Men of various ages and colors stood in the group, armed with a plethora of different builds of pistols and rifles. Some of the men were as old as Luke's father, and some were as young as Luke himself. Some were fair skinned like Adam, and some were tan, like Luke. Within the group, however, was a single woman, looking slightly older than either Luke or Adam. Her hair and eyes matched Luke's companion, and she waved at the two.

"Hey, delinquent duo! C'mon over here, we're about to begin!" The woman called out, beckoning the two boys to walk over to her. They complied, and just as Luke was about to say something, the woman placed a finger to her lips and shushed him. Pointing a finger towards the monument, she called the boys' attention to a tall, gruff-looking black man standing right in front of it. The man stood at least two heads taller than Luke, and held in his hands a sacred treasure, a Federation assault rifle! The brilliant weapon, so compact in its frame yet so powerful in its effect! The old weapon simply commanded authority, and Luke immediately recognized the man as the patrol's leader. As the tall man held up a single hand, a sign to stop the chattering, the talking of the village square ceased. Every eye was stuck on the patrol leader, and every ear glued to his mouth.

"Ahemn. Thank you all, citizens of Dust, for gathering here on this momentous occasion," the man began, stretching his arms out as he spoke. "I am sure that you are all aware that this is a patrol unlike any other in the last few years. Yes, while our previous patrols have been essential acts of surveying game, spotting for threats, and finding artifacts. However, today, we have a special mission. Of course, I trust that you are all know of the increased Raptor activity in the area."

"Demon birds from Hell! They took my child!" A screeching cry from the crowd interrupted the speaker. Luke couldn't tell who it was. Just someone absorbed in the sea of faces.

"They''ll kill us all, the bastards!" Another yell. Soon enough, the crowd erupted into a series of angry screams and shouts directed at the Raptor threat, exposing the raw fury of a species in peril. Luke, much like any other citizen of Dust, hated the Raptors. The disgusting, bipedal birds were known for assailing the village's trade caravans, skulking on the outskirts of the farmland, and kidnapping citizens for their outlandish rituals. Their cries were said to sound like the Devil's scream, and their claws and armblades could slice through flesh like a knife through soft bread. The thought of meeting them evoked feelings of fear, revulsion, and excitement within Luke at the same time. The chance for death against the chance for glory.

"Settle down, settle down," the man continued, a solemn calm tinging his voice. His words commanded authority, and the crowd quickly ceased its yelling. "The elders recognize this threat, and we, the patrol, are going in to parley with the Raptors. There is - "

"Talk with the bird men? No! Kill them! Kill them all!" Another shout from the crowd interrupted the leader's words, and soon the square was ablaze with harsh cries of bloodlust and protest.

"Worry not! Worry not, citizens! If the birds do not agree to our terms of ceasefire, we will deal with this problem as our forefathers would have," the man finished, a small speck of sadness in his eye, Luke noticed, betraying the enthusiasm of his tone. The words calmed the paranoia and rage of the crowd, and the noise dropped down to a few muttering whispers and grunts of approval. Adam nudged Luke with a wink and made a mock gun with his fingers, imitating firing it. Luke blew him off with a small grunt and turned back to the speech.

"Now, if you would please kneel down for a time of silent prayer," the large man said, laying his weapon down and dropping to his knees. Seeing this action, the entire village square did the same, kneeling down, bowing their heads, and closing their eyes. Luke's mind drew blanks through the ritual. Although he went through the programmed response mumbling a request for protection for the patrol unit and a good outcome to the Raptor mission, Luke had nothing deeper than that to contemplate or request. All he really wanted was to stay back in the safety of his home, shooting targets in the Dustlands and goofing around with Adam, but obligation dictated otherwise. However, the patrolman could not deny the slight tinge of boyish excitement he felt at going outside the confines of the village. Part of him pushed for comfort, safety, and familiarity, but a small bit of him begged for adventure. Shaking his head, he decided that such debate was useless. Going on patrol was his lot in life, scared or not.

After a few minutes, the prayer ended. The tall leader of the squad picked up his rifle and slung it against his back. Then, with a sweeping motion of his arm, he beckoned the patrol unit to the exit of the village, a single, solitary gate in a low concrete wall, surrounded by the characteristic brown dirt of the land.

Luke playfully slapped Adam on the back, receiving a grin in return. If Luke had to risk his life, he may as well do it with his best friend. Slinging his weapon to his back, Luke followed his unit out into the endless brown, the everlasting barren land.

__________________
I'm just a guy who's ill at ease and only knows how to write.

Madness - simply no way to live.