So I was trying to fix something at my house which forced me into the garage to attempt to locate a screwdriver, and what I found was a story entitled "Corpses Trail," an 'Ardy' story that I wrote and drew in a notebook that dealt with time travel, Ardy trying to save his planet and much more...however, it's real old, so while I may treat you folks again with old art from it (I think 1993 is when I did it), I think more importantly was the name of the story...Corpses Trail. It gave me an idea for a story so heartwarming and filled with buttercups that I ...oh wait, no it didn't. It's more like filled with briars and kidney stones, a story that has now been started as TRAIL OF CORPSES.
No, it isn't a zombie story, though those are always fun, its the story of a nemesis for someone. Gavin Decker is a character that lives in a world without heroes, and part of it has to do with him. He has a way of pushing people to the edge, and helping them get to where they want to go, and in most cases, its the big dirt nap. I'm going to do something I haven't done here yet, and I want people to respond. I finally wrote in a short story format. I typically write in a comic book format that my wife can't get into and she really can't get behind. She knows its easy enough to read, but it almost seems she just tells me she likes it to make me happy, and that's okay with me...but you folks are the real audience, the ones I try to appeal to, and Gavin Decker COULD actually be the perfect villain for Landis, so because of this, I've decided to post "Part One" of TRAIL OF CORPSES. I want people's thoughts, I want to hear what you think, and yes, the story is derived from a character from a marvelous universe, but all is not always as it seems. Anyway, read it, enjoy it, and post a reply. Tell me if you think this story can go somewhere.
I really like it.
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TRAIL OF CORPSES
Concept and story created by Rob Potchak
PART 1
“I do not live in a world of heroes. I live in a world of lies, deceit, and filth. Truth be told, I can’t even truly say that if I could change it I would. I look back at what has come before me, and then I look forward, and all I continue to see is a simple notion…
“A Trail of Corpses.”
Gavin Decker is no ordinary man. His left leg is slightly longer than his right, which causes back and neck pain that is regular to most people, since they are all imperfections. His rust colored hair, and its shine, as if it hasn’t been washed in days, collecting its own oils, though he’d tell you he showers every day. He is a late twenties born shopkeeper, tired of milling around and earning pennies on the dollar, knowing full well that the larger corporations are taking much larger chunks of his life, and many like him.
Everywhere Gavin has gone in his life, growing up in a military family, there has always been one thing that has been constant, it is never left in the shape it started in. You can’t necessarily blame someone who’s existence is based in a world where people live and die over dollars, spilt milk and professional wrestling. Gavin as always been a proactive person, rather than waiting for the next thing to come along. Today is no different.
As he begins to cross the street, he witnesses an old blind man walking out in front of a truck whose brakes look as though they’ve given out. In another instant, a young boy runs out in an attempt to save the elderly man by pushing him out of the way. The truck begins to swerve, and as is normally the case, too late to stop, the waste that was being transported pours onto the boy, who luckily, was able to save the old man.
Gavin looks on, waiting for something from the truck driver, who is now outside the truck, assessing his damages, rather than checking the boys vital signs. Which is more important in this situation, a boy’s life that hasn’t been led yet, or the blown tire of an irate trucker, not recognizing that he is responsible for the condition of the boy. Maybe to the trucker, it is the second, when it should be the first, however, the third situation is what Gavin takes into consideration, that of the older gentleman that the youngster pushed out of the way.
Decker walked up to the older man, who is tending to his knee, and griping about the fact a hooligan has caused him to get hurt and break his cane. “Sir, have you any idea that you are alive because of that boy?”
“Hodge Podge. No child is going to risk their life for a codger like myself. Hell, he probably would have laughed with his friends about it. ‘This old blind man walked in front of a truck, and guess what happened?’
“Sir, you really haven’t grasped the situation here, have you? You are alive, and a boy has just had what looks to be some sort of waste almost drown him, and all you can do is speak cynically about what you think a 15 year old thinks of your condition? Have you no respect for anyone other than yourself?” Gavin preaches.
“Boy, listen to yourself. In this world, its kill or be killed, live or die. I’ve lived 67 years, dealing with my blindness since the war, but you know what I received for my troubles? Squat. Why? Because no one gives hand outs to a blind old man who doesn’t pity himself for his condition.”
Gavin placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. He continues to talk to the old man, “You may believe the world to be one way, and I’m not going to steer you down another path today. In fact, quite the opposite. You may have thought that my tirade may have been to get your repentance, but it wasn’t, you failed piece of the whole. I’m not here to make you change your mind, quite the contrary. I enjoy your way of going through life, fending for no one or nothing but yourself, not caring whether you live or die…as it makes my decision much easier here…”
Almost as if he is able to see, the blind man turns to look up towards Decker, his glasses on the bridge of his nose, containing scratches from the push a few short moments ago. He doesn’t speak to Gavin to make his point seen again, but this time, his face starts to warp. The skin begins to hang and fall from the face, and the blood seems to rush away from his formerly rosy cheeks.
The old man falls over, as Decker’s hand on his shoulder isn’t for balance or stability, but for Gavin’s point to be realized, “You said it yourself, old man, it’s kill or be killed, and unfortunately, your lack of faith and mercy have condemned you to your end. Had you been thankful in the least that the boy had saved you, you may yet have been able to see that your life was worth as much as the child’s, rather than both being thrown away.”
Gavin Decker stands up, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, and continues to walk. He looks back only once, to witness the site of two paramedics pulling a white sheet over the child’s face, having not survived the amount of exposure he was in contact with. Decker shakes his head, looks up to the sky and points a finger, “C’mon big guy, you didn’t have to do that to the kid, and don’t give me none of that ‘it was his time,’ bullshit. That boy could’ve been a hero after a daredevil maneuver like that.”
END PART 1
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Okay, now let me know...by the way, this is the 325th post here, so I decided to give you guys a little something extra :).
