The Story Continues

By David Black Nimmo

About the Book
The Story Continues places the reader into a world of ravenous mad dogs and poorly planned orbital space flights. When the demand for prosperity, immortality and well-being become intolerable, the planet strikes the North American continent, knocking the global headquarters and the National Base of Operations of the Global Criminal Capitol Network out of business.
Follow along with Susan, Robert, Dave, Recoil, Stank, and Flight Planner Purguine as they attempt to restore order in the only way they can – their own.
About the Author
David Black Nimmo wants to give readers a book to read in a bar parking lot or at a bus stop, and as something to do other than to have to deal with your girlfriend or boyfriend’s boring life. In his opinion, there are millions and millions of people without an author, so he placed The Story Continues into production, to provide them with one.
The author, who was reportedly born aboard a large ship in the Gulf of Aden on the other side of Yemen, is the son of a BIS bookkeeper and a Scottish soldier, has spent his life creating works of literary genius for regional and local fans, and has written intriguing tales of madness and severity for years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RoseDog Books
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798885276023

Book preview

1. Central Reasons

Iowa

Illinois

Arkansas

Tennessee

Nebraska

South Dakota

Kansas

Colorado

Oklahoma

gone, and so the North American War began and ended.

The targets AmErica was able to strike were insignificant and non-consequential. The rest of the world would not conduct trade with the North American port cities. The AmErican government simply went out of business as governmental troops died off. Most AmErican post war trade was conducted immediately after the obliterative weapons ceased and was accomplished by hand cartage from either Mexico or from the common wealth of Canada, the occasional radioactive cloud arrived and delivered a grim reminder of the power of war.

Warning from hand held devices, warnings from local awareness and experience informed the living of the arriving clouds and the storms, the deadly storms of radioactive water from dark ionized skies.

Death rained down in charged droplets from the ionic clouds that arrived in from Tennessee and those who continued to survive in the South Quadrant of the South Eastern United States Territory avoided contact with it. Rain was passing over the House Dwellers Row in Alabama. Heavy dark clouds full of isotopes were sending their payload onto the war-torn terrain below. The sound of ground water being struck by the heavy drops of charged rain filled the condemned area of the fuel station.

The occasional popular three round volley of rapid arms fire, the assault rifle coveted for its intensity and accuracy for years defended the area from intrusion and invasion. Others seeking shelter from the rain and the power of nothing, the lethal power of nothingness and regional decay. The abandoned fuel station a headquarters, the regional area and housing a dying reminder for those who survived the war and the poverty of the collapse of AmErica.

Headlights arrived in over the low drive. The vehicle arrived without warning and dispensed a volley of rapid fire from a mounted shotgun firing solid twelve-gauge rounds. One of them striking an onlooker face first with the expected and usual result. The onlooker suffered the typical death from a solid shotgun round flying through the air and meeting with its target face first at eleven hundred feet per second.  

Three response rounds from the interior of the fuel station and the newly arriving vehicle was theirs. The driver of the vehicle was found collapsed behind the wheel of the electric engine Ford, manufactured a few years before the war. Petroleum fuels had run out on schedule, and quartz was hoarded openly by the Sovereign Federalist Republic. The vehicles of AmErica were solid, required charging and ran predictably.

Shawneea spoke first, The damn things in good condition, it can be used.  Take it back to the center of the fuel station yard, search it, keep it running, don’t pick it apart. Watch it, make sure one of the more able locals doesn’t get a bright idea and take it and don’t let anyone drive off with it.  David don’t tamper with it.  

David’s response was expected, Fuck off you watch it. There’s a dead guy in the damn thing.

Remove the dead guy from the truck first, Dave. Ed stated what was evident as usual.

You sure, it’s usually gays I get rid of. Dave spoke with his usual interest in killing something.

Ed reached for the holstered .40 caliber handgun that had been his since the days of employment service in law enforcement. He used it readily before the economic collapse that is typical with nation ending war. His voice was emphatic, playful and finite, What are you sayin’ Dave? Dave looked at Ed with the same look that invites others to fuck up bad enough to die that day.  

Guys, knock it off, get the truck in the yard before the storm starts again. Shawneea spoke with an interest in maintaining the well-being of leadership and power. Ed moved toward the Ford pickup first, Dave let him. In Dave’s world moving another dead body was a lot like moving another ten feet, insignificant and pointless.   

The dead guy was removed from the vehicle with a swift pull on his shoulder. A small handgun and a set of clothes was yielded from the driver. The vehicle driven by Ed, looked over by Dave from the exterior, traveled to the fuel station headquarters without care. Ed simply drove the gray Ford pickup the half mile while Dave walked along beside the gray electric vehicle until it was parked in the eastside repair yard.

Shawneea arrived and asked for the keys to the Ford, appointed Dave to look the thing over and to extract anything worthwhile from it. Ed took to the interior of the fuel station building and entered into his practice of ruling something elsewhere. The mounted shotgun was attached to the roof of the vehicle with a tripod gun mount and swivel. Several hundred rounds of shotgun ammunition were found stored in the rear of the Ford with a clean rifle and nearly one thousand rounds of supply ammunition located in a black plastic utility bin.

What do you think made him do that, I mean arrive and fire three rounds, why not stop and yell? Shawneea asked Ed wanting a friend’s answer, not an enemy’s response.

Boredom, stupidity, no better idea. Maybe Dave  saw him first and lured the Ford into position for property keep. Who knows? What we do know is the vehicles in good shape and it had a couple of working firearms with enough clean ammo to mean business with.

Ed looked over to Shawneea as he spoke to her, The guy died is dead and the truck is ours.  A small pack of cicadas kicked in and the personal tension between Ed and Shawneea placed them both on the defensive, not to be involved in the resolution of the climbing crescendo of the insects’ orchestrated command.

Ed smiled at Shawneea, the wrong breed of girl for his interests, yet she would do until the other options arrived. Shawneea answered and smiled, Why not just yell, Hey I’m here, something, anything? Ed looked over at Dave and hoped the hand gunner understood there were things of greater importance than the newly acquired electric Ford. Ed and Shawneea headed for a booth near the darkened east customer wall of the convenience store as Dave maintained a watch on the buildings across the four-lane divided roadway north of the fuel station and repair yard.

The handheld device was clear, no inbound storm to follow yesterday afternoon’s thunder boomers, the ionic ground water drove itself away from underfoot rapidly, and the warm sun was rising as a few of the locals were up and moving in and out and on again. The fuel station’s overnight business was concluded with the arrival of dawn and the locals could defend themselves from whatever occurred while the sun was up. Ed and Shawneea arrived from the interior of the convenience store and Dave reminded them the pickup was new to the area and would attract un-wanted attention. The three of them covered the vehicle with gray burlap car covers and canvas repair tarps, disguising the Ford to be a discarded vehicle in for salvage, with the day beginning the sound of a rotary air unit approached.

2. Now We Know Why

The air unit approached the fuel station. The convenience store building was closed with the morning breaking through the windows. Ed remained inside the building as Dave and Shawneea exited the rear yard area and entered into the street in front of the parking lot. The air unit’s approach was low seeking answers.  

You think they think we killed their guy...in self-defense? Dave was lending an alibi and a defense to his new-found accomplice. Shawneea did not speak, holding the assault rifle at her side pointed at the ground down one side of her body she knew there was one hell of a fuck up to answer for, and choppers meant authority, even in the radioactive era of the southeast’s existence.  The Ford’s position was verified with the sonar equipment on board the air unit, it was their guy’s rig.  

The location? Behind where? The lady with the rifle, chief suspect one. Two rounds were released from the gunner's rifle on board the air unit both striking the armed woman in the sternum.

As the two rifle rounds were passing through and passing the life out of Shawneea, Dave was exiting toward the direction of the convenience store building. No further rounds were fired from the air unit. The onlooker from the previous night lay dead in the parking lot and Dave thought the matter simple enough. The thoughts ran through his ears just like the millions of justifications that had arrived before them, The state agent arrived and killed the onlooker and in return, with the rifle for self-defense, the state agent was killed, the vehicle was secured for later surrender and the rifles and ammo were placed into safe keeping for later surrender as well.

Nice, nice story Dave, he knew the sound of his own thoughts and entered the store yelling for Ed to, start the truck and get the hell out of here. Shawneea was dead. The air unit killed her and this was no place to be found in a town full of hungry stray dogs and worn survivors.

Ed stated the typical response of  F this or that, the usual your responsible’s, and the convenient your gonna pay for this statements that are obligatory at the death of an associate. Ed traveled the distance to the Ford and began yanking the sheets and older pieces of other vehicles off of it entered into the vehicle and started the truck.

Ed looked the dark gray Ford pickup’s interior over before their exit from the kill zone. Dave grabbed at the ammo and rifles, the shotgun and shells, took in a mental inventory of the equipment and looked over to the closed fuel station as it began to move away from him in the passenger side mirror and realized the end of his life had just occurred. The salvaged pickup, driven by Ed, exited the fuel station lot repair yard with a light rain beginning to cover the ground in a transparent mist. The radioactive indicator panel programmed into the factory HUD installed in the driver dash of the Ford informed the passengers of the vehicle of the amount of isotopic activity in the rain and  present in the local area by displaying a light green to dark red stripe in the digital display area of the HUD, red, the hottest mark, indicating lethal doses of isotopes were present and green, the coolest level, indicating normal levels of background radiation were present near the occupants of the pickup.

The marker was three greens from red as the vehicle entered into the suburb behind the convenience store and fuel station with Ed driving and Dave in the rear passenger seat looking rearward to ensure there were no undetected arrivals.

The Ford turned left onto the open roadway leading to the interstate and the truck and its occupants left the kill zone of the convenience store parking lot behind.

Ed stated, We’re gonna head south, its cooler there, the rain is heading in from the north.

Dave replied the only statement available, You want applause or a different audience?

Ed drove the vehicle in normal manner traveling seventy miles per hour exit passed exit and began to gather enough calm to question Dave on the death of Shawneea.

Dave stated, Before you begin to speak again here’s the way I figure it. The guy arrived for the onlooker -got em, we responded and got him, bad move, but we got him, defending ourselves. The chopper, the state air unit arrived, saw Shawneea with the rifle, gathered it was her that got their guy and gunned her down. Simple as that.

Dave felt Ed’s attempt to understand what was being stated evading him as the hand gunner supplied greater insight to the source of the concern of a very dead Shawneea, The thing fired two rounds, dropped her then exited. Continued on east then sorta further east, back the way it arrived. Flew in behind some cover and headed south and possibly east ahead of our position. I mean radioactive rain is radioactive rain, let’s get the hell out of here and leave the entire set of concerns behind.

Ed grew strong faced and replied Shut up, calmly and clear.

Dave asked Ed to pull the vehicle over for the usual personal hygiene reasons.

Ed told him to piss out the back of the truck and Dave struck Ed in the jaw to force him to pull over knowing the gesture would not be overlooked. The truck slid to a halt on the interstate with Ed exiting the driver door and entering into the barrel of a semi automatic .45 caliber handgun. Ed attempted the usual command comadre without success and was thrown backwards with the force of the round breaking his skull and ending his life.

Dave slid over a seat and drove the vehicle south and exited somewhere close to where he knew the roadways, he looked over his right shoulder toward the city line area and knew even in the day of decay and radioactivity the world did not tolerate crime. The air unit was seen once as a small speck in the southern sky, inbound at ten a.m., sharp and no hope remained. The air unit began to travel north and without further sighting disappeared into eastern sky. The overwhelming urge to urinate struck him and he began to slow the pickup to a stop on the interstate.

Dave parked the Ford, walked to the side of the vehicle to complete his early morning request. The large animal growled once and bit, taking meat from the inside thigh of its target. Dave fired once and the stray dog lay dead in the street, a steady stream of piss and blood discoloring the animal’s fur. Dave knew blood loss was the concern, a missing pound of thigh muscle brought about a great deal of running concerns, blood loss the most important.

A rifle, towel and duct tape were used to hold back the free-flowing blood. With the towel folded and pressed onto the upper leg and taped into position Dave secured his jeans over the wound and began to wander. When his concentration returned he remembered a Doctor’s RX was located in the nearby area. The Ford started with the stray dog remaining dead in the road.

Dave remembered the firefight to secure the Ford involved a state policeman and looked around to ensure there were no air units following him. With a soft rain traveling through the area he drove the pickup east to the safety of the Doctor’s RX lot. The rain grew harder and pelted the surface of the interstate as he attempted to steer the dark gray pickup safely through the downpour. He wiped at the interior of the pickup’s