Tuesday, February 23, 2016

The Last Man on Earth

The Writing Prompt for today is:   The Last Man on Earth


The Last Man on Earth

The last, real man on earth put his eye to his scope and scanned the prairie before him. He was hidden at the edge of a thick forest that bordered on wide prairie lands full of succulent greens. Greens, that the animals just could not pass up.


He held the deer through the scope aiming the crosshairs as it slowly meandered across the prairie. The AR-15 is not the ideal weapon to hunt dear, but when the world goes to shit you take what you can get. The deer came in and out of view as it moved across the prairie, following the gently sloping landscape as a rose and fell.

Roger sighted in and started to control his breathing as the deer crested another ridge, standing tall and proud with the creatures antlers reaching for the heavens. Another step or two and it would be time for the shot. The animal froze.

Its head jerked left and its ears perked up and twisted back and forth as if listening for some sound that Roger could not hear at this great distance. Without warning, the deer bolted, disappearing down and veering away from Roger's location.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught Rodgers attention to the left and roughly midway between he and where the deer head stud. A long metallic rod pointing straight upward could be seen slowly cresting the ridge. First half of foot of steel was visible, then another two feet, then another two feet.

"Shit," whispered Roger barely audible over the rustling of the trees around him. Hiri angled his rifle and zoomed in on the metallic rod, verifying what he already knew to be true. He flipped the switch on his radio and it squawked to life. "Base, this is Eagle Two, over. "

"Eagle, we got you, what's up?" 

Roger mumbled under his breath about the incorrect radio procedures and shook his head. He found it amazing that he and the others had lasted this long. He dropped the magazine and checked the rounds. Just seven rounds in his magazine, and with no other weapons there was no way he could overcome what do you do was walking up the crest towards him. When he looked up again the upper half of the mechanized infantry unit, a bipedal tank could be seen making its way up the ridge. "Base, we've got a serious problem. A MIU just showed up, well past checkpoint 304, over."

"A MIU?"

He let out a long sigh and shook his head. "Listen, goddamnit, there is a mech heading our way right now! You need to get the QRF active and honing in on my location now!"

The Mech now stood atop the ridge, its battered armor glistening in the early morning light. This was an experienced unit, certainly one he did not want to tangle with alone. It stopped its movement and spun its top, modular section in a complete circle. It was scanning the immediate area, Rogers dropped into the underbrush hoping the concealment would provide him some invisibility from the mechanized horror.


.   .   .


This story was written in about eight minutes.
Word count: 514

About the 8 Minute Writing Prompt:
The 8MWH is a habit forming program where your aim is to simply write something for eight minutes straight each day, over time this will become a habit. The goal is to provide practice with writing and thus make you a better writer who can put words on paper easier. I plan on posting a short phrase and image each day in the morning and later that evening posting my story. Due to the time limit these will often be incomplete or possibly even suck. 
If you would like to join me, post wherever you like and add #8MWH to your post. Please remember that your stories can be about anything and the writing prompt may be a title, a phrase in the story, or heck, not even used at all in the story. It is meant to serve as nothing more than an inspiration.

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