Fade to Grey (Book 1): Fade to Grey Read online

  Fade to Grey

  Book 1 of the Fade to Grey trilogy

  By Brian R. Stewart

  Fade to Grey

  Copyright © 2013 Brian R. Stewart

  All rights reserved

  For Nina,

  Because she believed.

  Author’s notes.

  I hate typing. My giant sized fingers positively crowd the keyboard and continually dual with each other while searching for the—usually incorrect—key to press. Just to complicate matters, I can’t type without looking at the keys.

  In the fall of 2012, I found myself trying to complete a project for work that seemed to require enormous amounts of typing. After a few days I had had enough. That little light that so seldom goes off in my head began to flicker. “Hey,” it said, “aren’t these computer thingies supposed to have some kind of, well you know, if you talk, it will type out what you say on the screen?”

  And so began my love/hate relationship with speech recognition software. I quickly found out that after a brief tutorial, you were basically on your own with the little caveat of, “Remember, the more you teach your computer to recognize your individual voice, the better it will do and the fewer mistakes it will make.”

  Fade to Grey was born out of the language barrier between my own enunciation style and my moronic computer’s obviously faulty software and outright stubbornness. Eventually we worked out a deal. It would accurately transcribe most of the things I said, most of the time, and I wouldn’t reduce it to its component parts with whatever blunt instrument of devastation was closest at hand.

  There were, and I suspect always will be, inherent flaws in speech recognition systems, the most prevalent being “sound alike words” like night, or knight. Other common ones are going to be there/their/they’re, and will/we’ll for instance. I also found out that speech recognition software, by default, will “add in” common words if it picks up a sound that it doesn’t quite recognize. If I sneeze accidentally as I’m dictating, the words, “sneeze, sneeze” don’t show up on the screen, but rather how the software interprets the sound of the sneezing, which from experience it prints out as, “if if.” All of this can make for a rather interesting editing process.

  However, each night I would faithfully take my little laptop home with me and work on a sentence or two of FTG. One weekend I had forgotten my laptop at work, but I had the rough draft of the first few chapters saved on a jump drive. No problem, I thought, I’ll just pick up where I left off using my home desktop system. That’s when I came to realize that you must teach EVERY computer individually how to recognize your voice. And so began the tutoring of my home computer. Eventually I was able to domesticate three of my most frequently used computers. I think I had about seventy pages completed at that point. My wonderful wife, curious at what project would have me out in my home office until the wee hours of the night finally confronted me. I spilled the beans, what little they were, and confessed my desire to forever forgo manually typing. (remember, FTG was really nothing more than a loose conglomeration of ideas and story quips at that point) Her amused chuckle soon gave way to silence as she skimmed some of the pages I had printed off.

  “You should finish this, for real,” she said.

  And so what started as a way for me to teach my computer to understand me so I wouldn’t have to type anymore, slowly, and sometimes painfully, evolved into what you have in your hands.

  I’m not going to detail all of the roadblocks, speed bumps, and outright detours that this project has undergone. I will however mention a few of the important ones. When I finished the main project, I had no intention of publishing. On a whim I decided to post a few chapters every week on the fiction forum at a website (AR15.com) where I had seen other stories, some of them quite good, posted. (some of the comments on the following pages were taken from there) One thing led to another, and pretty soon I had a regular following online, as well as multiple requests from personal friends to think about publication. I began to consider the possibilities of having someone publish my book.

  Boy, was I in for an eye opener. Several fiascoes and near disasters later, I decided to go the self publishing route. It is with complete honesty that I confess what I thought was an accurate command of the English language and grammar skills was, in fact, the pathetic culmination of years spent dozing in AP English. I needed some serious help in the proofreading department, and got it in the form of Miss Virginia Barrette, without whom this project would still look like the archaic Sanskrit of a convulsing, crayon gripping kindergartner. Not only was my writing style inherently conductive toward punctuation errors, but in the vast timeframe since I had last set foot in the aforementioned AP English class, many of the rules of punctuation had actually changed.

  And then there is the cover. Yep, even an Ebook needs a cover. Enter stage right another personal friend; graphic artist extraordinaire, Mary Beth French. Web site design, freehand artwork in multiple mediums, you name it, she can do it. And she did. I would’ve been happy with a plain, two-tone cover and a basic “Times New Roman” font title. Her imaginative and creative thought process brought the cover from the realm of what my mind’s eye was envisioning but my clumsy hands were incapable of producing, to the finished product in what has to be record turnaround time.

  So now you have it, a brief overview of that long, strange trip that FTG took on its journey from my mind to your hand. Enjoy, Brian.

  A note about dialog. Some of the characters you’ll meet in Fade to Grey use slang or grammatically incorrect speech patterns. This is intentional, but without a doubt, still drove my proofreader crazy. I’m sure she wore out multiple red pens circling and noting the inconsistencies, only to have my response of, “Hey, I know a lot of people who talk like that,” invalidate her efforts. Anyway, it’s how it’s supposed to be.

  A note about acronyms. I have included a brief dictionary covering most of the acronyms you’ll find in Fade to Grey. It is located at the back of the book.

  Finally, the material contained herein includes potentially graphic descriptions of bloodshed and adult situations. As such, reader discretion is advised.

  …What people are saying about Fade to Grey…

  “I have a Zombie Fiction addiction and have read everything from JL Bourne to Adrian's Undead Diary and many in between. Your story is up there with the best of them and I can say that I am enjoying it even more than the Day to Day Armageddon books. Good job, can't wait until the next entry. -Officially Tagged!”

  “You are going to do well with this book, very well.“

  “I love the fact you are making it more complex than a standard zombie story. There are always good twists in the chapters, and leaves people wanting more - wanting to know what is happening. Like other posters said above, you really are a good, solid author.”

  “I think you don't understand how talented you are sir.”

  “Nothing kickstarts a story like a dead, zombie stripper!”

  “In a word..............................................AWESOME.”

  “Excellent entries. This is definitely the zombie story for the outdoorsman.”

  “Fantastic chapters! I am really enjoying this story, thank you!”

  “VERY good character buildup! The way you are introducing folks and providing info about them through their actions and what they talk about has been great. You really are presenting the perfect amount of info for all of us to get mental pictures of what they people look like and what kind of people they are.”

  “Again, a few great chapters and good character development.

  You are a gifted writer. Thanks for sharing with us.”

  “I have been waiting all week to r
ead the updates! This is easily one of the best stories I have read on here…”

  “I swore I would wait until 4 chapters were posted to continue reading. I didn't make it.”

  “Just started reading these...gotta say for a non-writer, you write pretty damn good. Well just had to say that, back to chapter 3. ETA Ok just finished chapter 10...wow, I cannot put these down! Well back to reading.”

  “Whoa, very, very good.”

  “I liked the chapters from that perspective, a change of pace and some insight into the characters - well done!“

  “Just finished reading it after starting last night. Excellent, really top notch. Kudos for not having any of the various characters call the zombies 'Zeds' and thank god none of the characters are zombie or horror-movie fanatics. Very refreshing and your writing style is quick and enjoyable. Now write faster !!!”

  “Most excellent, I look forward to more of your writing.”

  “Well...........I went shooting today with a friend from out of state and had a ball…enough of the pleasantries…where is the next chapter!”

  “Great story! When I finish a chapter I can't help but think about how you have written everything with voice recognition software. Pretty amazing! I signed up for the forums just to subscribe to your story. Looking forward to more.”

  “Another great chapter. I would continue writing the way you have been. This is your story and your writing style, don’t change it to keep a few happy. Your descriptive and captivating style is what had attracted so many readers and followers in the first place. Keep it up, and I to would like to order a few copies of the book when it comes out. Thanks again.”

  “YOU SUCK.... Me in with your wonderful wordcraft.

  This story is seriously kicking ass. I can't wait (but I guess I have to) for more.”

  “Must....sleep, b-b-but can't until....n-n-new chapter.”

  “So much win.”

  “Sir, you are now costing me sleep.”

  “I've been losing sleep all week. I'm not one for reading books either but this has kept me on the edge of my seat every night so far. Excellent job. Keep up the great work! You have quite a talent. Now I play the waiting game with the rest of the group.”

  “The thing I like about this story that a lot of other stories don't have is that the characters are believable. I know exactly what you are describing in the story and the characters act/react exactly like I would. I can really relate to them so it makes it all that more immersive. Keep up the good work.”

  “This story is fantastic, right up there with the best writers out there, past & present…”

  “Hook, line & sinker, completely caught up now waiting like the rest. You are a very talented writer,(or orator in this case-lol) keep it up this is a great read & I can't wait to see what happens next. Then we get books 2&3 next.”

  “My God. I've read this thru in a day, can only imagine what the rest of you have been thru waiting for the next chapter to be posted. Characters are great. I commend you sir, for your abilities as a writer. The reader is absorbed with tightened gut at each change of discourse within the characters. Good luck with your endeavor to publish. Wish I could read the entire "trilogy".“

  “I found this story last night. Besides the occasional bathroom break or the run to the kitchen for a cup of coffee I have not stopped reading it.”

  “Read all of it in a day and now I'm hooked will definitely be buying the book you deserve that you sir are a great writer.”

  Table of Contents

  Author’s notes.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Dictionary

  Fade to Grey

  *click*

  Two bullets. That’s it. That’s all I have left. And it’s dark where I’m at, pitch black. My flashlight batteries crapped out a couple of hours ago. My ankle is still throbbing; it feels wet through my sock. I probably ripped the stitches out. Again. And it’s night, I’m guessing around three in the morning. They’re out there, the gray ones . . . searching for me. I never thought I’d get my ticket punched like this. Heck, I’m only twenty-eight years old. I guess I never really gave it much thought to how I’d actually go out, not before the world changed anyhow. If I think back to when the world was normal . . . well crap . . . I feel like I’m rambling again . . . Sorry. Anyhow, if I think back and force myself to imagine a scenario—a “most likely to occur” event that would claim my life—I guess it would be the typical things. Car wreck, maybe cancer in fifty years, heart attack on the golf course when I’m seventy . . . that kind of stuff. I used to know a guy in college, Willard Jeffrey Adams, “Willie” for short. He was my Bio-lab partner for two semesters, at least when he bothered to show up. I remember one time we were dissecting . . . something. I stopped counting how many things we chopped up to see how they ticked in the name of higher education. Anyhow, I made some comment to Willie about how someday he might be pinned to a big tray in the name of science. That started a conversation between us about life . . . and death. Willie had it all figured out. He said, “I think the best way to go would be when I’m ninety-five years old, and I get shot by a jealous husband.” Somehow, barricaded inside the shampoo and grooming room in the back of a veterinarian’s office while waiting for the infected to find me and tear me to shreds didn’t quite make my top ten. It’s not looking good for the home team right now. I’m tired. I hurt. I hope that somebody finds this recorder after I’m gone. I hope they listen to it. Maybe that’s what I should do. I still have my ear buds—well half of them anyhow—so much for stereo. Two bullets. I’m scared. I’m not afraid to say it, I’m terrified. I’m terrified that when they do find me I won’t have the guts to use one of the bullets on me. I think I can hear something outside the door. It’s night; and like the line from the movie goes, “They mostly come at night . . . mostly.”

  If but one or two deaths are what you’ll enjoy, go visit the sword maker, his wares are what you’ll employ-

  Three, four, five, maybe six or seven, best get a gun to send them dancing quickly into heaven-

  Aspirations even higher? Will a whole town make your list? It’s so easily done, just ask any chemist-

  Still thinking too small? A large city will fall? Could nothing get you higher than a physicist’s atomic fire-

  Yet if the world is your prize, (and I’m sure it won’t be missed) you’ll only need the help of a microbiologist.

  Chapter 1

  *click*

  Testing, testing . . . can you hear me? . . . How does this sound? . . . What if I hold it out here? . . . How about up close?

  *click*

  OK, I’ve just played back my sound check, and it seems like this little recorder does pretty good if I hold it fairly close to my mouth when I speak. When I hold it at a distance it doesn’t do so well, and no matter where I hold it, it seems to pick up
a lot of background noise. Oh well, what do you expect for twenty-seven bucks on clearance. Well the day’s finally here. I am in my truck and headed north up to Uncle Andy’s. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. Over a month of vacation time is in front of me, nothing but worries, bills and ex-girlfriends behind me. I’ve got my rods packed, all the camping equipment is loaded, and besides Uncle Andy’s normal delivery I’ve also got a little surprise for him. Of course my buddy Mad Max is with me. I think he’s been looking forward to this trip more than I have.

  “Hey buddy, are you ready to go see Uncle Andy? Speak . . . Speak . . . Oh c’mon you know that one. Sit . . . Shake . . . OK, sit there and act like an idiot while drooling all over my seat . . . good boy.”

  Yeah, well, I apparently have the only 107 pound wolf/husky/shepherd/moose hybrid that is media shy and won’t speak into this recorder; probably afraid he’ll be misquoted and it will end up in Dog Fancy magazine. I know you can’t see this, but Max is looking at this little recorder like he’s trying to decide if it’s a treat that I’m teasing him with. It’s like I keep holding it up to my mouth, but I haven’t eaten it yet. Dummy. Anyway, I was going to take a little notebook with me to kind of keep a journal of my walkabout, but as I know, my handwriting is atrocious, and since I’m the one who most likely would have been reading the notebook twenty years from now, or rather trying to read it, I decided to give this little micro recorder a try instead. The cool thing about this is that I can download these audio files to my laptop later on. On the record quality that I’ve picked I can supposedly record over 700 hours of audio before the internal memory gets filled. Hmmm, we’ll see about that. Anyway, enough for now.