Sector 76

Originally a story that pursued recycling, but it became more than that: Life or Death situation.

                Tom and the Recycling Corp saluted as General Lee Shin Shun stormed in, accompanied by Leader Winter.

                “At ease, men.” Slipping off his hood and gas mask, Lee began, “Your service in the Recycling Corp is drawing to the end, men. Your dedication for restoring the balance back into the environment has been admirable. But, there’s one more landfill that needs cleaning before you can get out of here! Sector 76!”

                Murmurs and whispers whistled through the ranks, but silence fell once again when General Shin Shun cleared his throat. “All I ask is one thing: Clean up Sector 76. Then, you’re free. Your five years of service will be over. Thank you, men.” Leader Winter nodded, looking into each of the men’s faces, remembering every last soul.

                “You heard your General. You’ll all be leaving tomorrow at dawn!” With that final announcement, the men hollered a, “Yes, Sir!” Glancing back and forth, Tom slid away from his party and jogged to the central bridge of the Corp. Wind whipping his dusty hair, he gazed down at the city he once knew.

                Skyscrapers weren’t the only highest anymore. Piles of trash topped 350 meters at most, sometimes more if it was raining. The streets Tom once knew were buried under molding garbage. Street lights hanged on loose lines and cars rested in their graves, rusting. The only animals left were small birds and, occasionally, a deer.

                Deer eat plants. If there are some loose around the city, a real, thriving plant had to be here somewhere. Wherever it was, there wasn’t enough of it. Most of the deer Tom had seen were either dead or almost dead.

                Tom slammed his fists on the bridge rails. “Tsk, how can we be so stupid?” he muttered. “We had a hand to change all of this.”

                “You’re right.” Tom turned his head and saw Leader Winter. Spinning around, Tom gave the leader a salute. Winter chuckled. “No need to be so formal, Tom.”

                “I feel that it’s necessary,” Tom said, lowering his salute anyway. Whistling a tune, Winter handed Tom an umbrella. Pulling a canteen from his pocket, Winter uncorked it and took a swig.

                “We were so careless back then that when it caught up to us, we weren’t prepared. A good portion of the population died from the incident, but that’s why the Recycling Corp exists today. We can make a change and pass on knowledge to the future generations. We won’t make the same mistake twice.”

                “History repeats itself, Sir,” Tom said, grimly. He twirled the umbrella with his fingers. Leader Winter brushed his beard and patted Tom’s back.

                “Then, we should prepare our future sons and daughters to the best of our abilities.”

                Crashes of thunder echoed overhead. Instinctively, Tom opened up the umbrella and covered Leader Winter’s head as trashbegan to fall from the sky. Organic, metal, plastic, or glass: it all fell. Tom pulled his gas mask higher up his face and tugged his hood so it’d cover most of his brown hair.

                “Yeah,” he breathed. “We need to prepare them.”

                It was 3 a.m., or, 3 a.m. the last time Tom checked. He slipped into his uniform and adjusted his gas mask. Yep, he wore his hood and mask to sleep�"strange as it sounds.  Twiddling his thumbs, Tom slipped out of the sleeping quarters and jogged out to the central bridge.

                The sky and stars were hidden behind the wall of smog. Even though factory-use was discontinued, the years of nonstop build up became lasting like the stars. Resting his head on his hands, Tom glanced over at the city. A figure caught his eyes. It was sprinting to one of the abandoned buildings…on hind legs.

                Tom had the urge to yell but kept his mouth sealed. There was something…strange about how it ran. It was animal-like. Tom narrowed his eyes. It must be from Sector 76. He’d overheard some of the generals discussing it at dinner last night.

                “Something unnatural is going on there,” General Lee Shin Shun whispered. “I’m letting my squad investigate a bit before heading home. Besides, if they die, that’s one less thing we have to handle at home,” he added, tearing a piece of bread with his teeth. Tom bit his lip just thinking about it. Messing with his crystal necklace, he knew what he had to do.

When the sun came up, General Shin Shun marched with his troop to Sector 76, wide-eyed and ready. Tugging his collar, Tom looked at the fallen debris and garbage. There were no signs of that “human”. Tom narrowed his eyes. He already didn’t like this.

                Years before humans screwed up with their trash, Sector 76 was a well-known power plant. But, after an accident, the plant locked its doors.  Months later, rumors and stories of strange, mutated creatures arose, even some disappearances in the population mixed in too.

                All Tom felt was hate when he laid his eyes on the creaky gates. Not only were they supposed to investigate and clean up, but they were to destroy the plant, once and for all.

                General Lee Shin Shun gave his men a salute. “Bless your souls that you’ll all come back.”

                “Yes, Sir!” the troop shouted. Splitting into groups, Tom found himself with his friend, Mitchell, and four other guys. Their mission: lay out bombs and blow up the plant. How it would help the environment? Tom had no idea, but the plant deserved to be blown to bits than standing. After they were each equipped with bombs, they went their separate ways in the plant.

                Tom sighed as he slipped down the empty hallways, alone. He had a gun in his hands, aimed to kill or at least shoot something’s legs off. The slow drips of a leaky faucet brought no end to his heightened stress and headache. He stepped onto some glass, the pieces of cracking under his shoes. He looked up. A series of broken windows was down the way, and there was nothing natural about how they got smashed.

                Gulping, he grabbed one of his bombs and set it before placing it on a crate of goggles. The echoing beeps heightened his blood pressure. Breathing in and out, Tom walked quickly to the next site. Halfway through, he heard footsteps. Husky breathing matched his breaths. Tom could hear timid footsteps mirror his.

                Nerves on edge, Tom spun around and pointed his gun, hands steady. From behind a crate was a dog with long fur, but its eyes had a distinctive human quality.

                “F-Friend?” it panted, standing on its rear legs. “F-F-Friend.”

                “Leave,” Tom muttered. “Or, I’ll shoot.”

                The “dog” shook its head, standing back on four legs. Wagging its tail, it started coughing. The beast spat and growled until something shiny and oval fell out of its mouth. The animal nudged it over to Tom.

                “N-Need,” it said. “F-Friend.” Gun still pointing at it, Tom swiftly grabbed the item. Was it a jewel?

                “What do you want from me?” he asked, very clearly.

                “F-Friends…danger!” it barked, running past Tom. Tom spun around and heard screams and shouts of help from his teammates. Dang!

                Running, he found the plant’s generator. Down below, his teammates and Mitchell were surrounded by growling beasts�"calling them “dogs” just didn’t fit the description. Mutants, that’s what they were: Sad, out of control mutants. Tom looked at the “dog”. He realized what it was trying to tell him. Putting his gun away, he knew what to do.

                Pulling his gas mask higher up his face, he quietly set and placed the rest of his bombs. He had the key that’d set them all off, enough power to free the “animals” from their misery. He knew what to do.

                He yelled and waved his hands and drove the mutants’ attentions towards him. Tom ran. Halfway through, Mitchell somehow caught up to him. He could just sense what Tom was going to do.

                “Don’t do it!” Tom shook his head, biting his lip. Rounding the corner, Tom pulled Mitchell behind some crates.

                Panting, he whispered into his friend’s ear, “Take this and run.” Tom stuffed the “jewel” into Mitchell’s hands and placed his crystal necklace over Mitchell’s neck. Giving his friend a kiss on the forehead, he pushed Mitchell out of the broken window. Tom didn’t look back to see if he was okay, but he stood his ground when the beast trapped him. The “dog” was among them, throwing wide-eyed signals at him.

                “F-Friends,” it panted.

Tom understood.
It wasn’t talking about his teammates.
No. Not even in the beginning.
It was referencing its friends,
the wild mutants before him.

                “F-Friends…danger!”

                The beasts howled and jumped Tom. Backing to the broken window, he pulled off the safety pin on the key and snapped it in half.

Author's Note

This was the prompt I was using: Write a story of what the world would be like if it was overrun by pollution.

Yeah....I kind of made more than that.
Also, I know there's errors with the information provided through this story, it' has a weak plot, and it's so confusing that if you don't have my mind, you won't know what's going on. But, this was written on the fly. Besides, you can't learn if you don't have constructive feedback and if you can't write something new.

Reviews

[John Skinner Jr.]

Plot issues not withstanding, the voice you wrote with was very passive:

"Years before New York was covered with pollution and trash, Sector 76 was a large, famous power plant. But, when lightening struck and energy traveled to the core, the plant had to immediately shut down. Even after decades later, the mayor and the citizens never stepped foot into the plant..."

These are three very passive sentences...too many linking verbs not enough action verbs...

Example: "Years before humans screwed up and covered New York with pollution, the Super power plant, Sector 76, converted garbage to energy. An explosion that forced the plant to shut down, ripped a hole in a radiation containment tank. Despite the fact that not everyone was evacuated, emergency protocols hermetically sealed the facility. Sector 76 remained untouched for decades..."

Or something like that.

[Vivian]

Thanks for the feedback. I edited my story a bit. And, I think while I was writing this "beautiful mess", I lost my mind. Hey, but your feedback drove me out of writer's block, so hey? I'm not offended with the review.

[MeathooksMcGee]

I feel that you need to more fully understand the concepts that you write about. 'factory use has become illegal." and "lightning strike effected the core oof the power plant." among others don't make alot of sense. Your style is very fluid and easy to read with a good tempo. i would recommend following the writers golden rule, a writer writes, what a writer knows. Thank you for sharing your story. :)

[Vivian]

Thanks for the review. Yes, I know that golden writer rule well, but I’ve heard of another one—not sure if it’s as well-known as the one you gave me, but here it goes. Writing doesn’t always have to be limited to what you know. Sometimes, writing something different—something you have no idea about—gets your creative gears moving to make something beautiful.
Yeah, half of the things I wrote in “Sector 76” were incorrect, but it was a creative thing. It was a little idea I had in my head, so I winged it when I typed it down. I know the rule “write what you know” applies when you write a serious story—crime, investigation, etc… But, what if you’re creating something totally different in the world you know—i.e. Hunger Games and Harry Potter. Sure, I think the authors research on the topic and filed it in their brains, but some things were probably made-up (but they cloaked it really well so you wouldn’t notice)
Jeez, looks I wrote this long explanation for nothing… Basically, “Sector 76” was a little story in my head that I decided to wing. Anyway…thanks for reviewing! I really appreciate it!