Red Flood by Nocomus Columbus So Good We're Already Asking For More...

Grand Falls of the Little Colorado River is courtesy http://www.tripadvisor.com

“Where are we?” Moses asked.                        

“The Badlands,” his father replied.                   

Even though he was just a child, Moses knew about The Badlands.   Everyone knew about them.   Moses’ teacher taught about The Great War, and what happened when it ended.   

After the Rebel terrorist’s treacherous victory at The Battle of Flagstaff, the U.S. government relinquished control of the southwest giving complete autonomy to the resistance forces in return for a cease-fire.   New borders were created.   Both parties agreed to designate a vast piece of land that served as a demilitarized border, meaning neither the U.S. nor the rebels could occupy the territory.   Not long after the cease-fire, that piece of deserted land got a name.   Moses had heard The Badlands was lawless, inhabited by drug smugglers and armed gangs.   Even worse, were stories about The Raiders, who attacked villages along the border in the middle of the night killing everyone, doing terrible things with their victim’s bodies.   Thinking about it made him shutter. 

~~~

Red Flood

By Nocomus Columbus

Columbus begins his latest offering with an intriguing prologue... A couple, out in the Wilderness, have just welcomed a son. But there is someone outside and the father is forced to leave the mother alone... 

So he can escape, taking their son to safety. He then leaves him with his own mother and moves on to support the Rebels--the only group now  working against the government.

I have found that in reading Columbus, you will need to delve into his words and envision what he's presenting. Perhaps you are not always successful when it moves deep into his story thoughts, but he works hard to make sure we interpret what he has to say. Nocomus has created many diverse shorts that will take you through a gamut of emotion--always emotion...

This is a first of what another reviewer said could be an apocalyptic novel--maybe. I am always intrigued by all of the different stories that can be labeled under this genre and how many people actually think about that time. Interestingly, the topic has never struck me as important, even if I enjoy watching and reading about others' thoughts. My own experience with the Y2k projections, for instance, seemed just silly, but meant a lot of work, LOL...

While the Prologue entices, the way the book ends is even more thought-provoking: 

The End of Innocence...

Prophetically perhaps, the boy is named Moses and we watch a little as he goes to school, then joins a ball team. One day, however, Moses noticed a strange man there seeming to watch him. And when he got up to bat and knocked it out of the field, the strange man came and asked who had taught him to hit like that. Fortunately, his grandmother was there that day, as she always was, and hurried to get Moses and leave...

But when next Moses came home from school, he found his grandmother, near death. She whispered his final instructions and said that his father would be there to take him with him. Moses had thought both of his parents were dead and, although his grandmother had been dark-skinned, he was still somewhat surprised when his father, too, was dark-skinned... They didn't take time to discuss anything though and were soon on their way, with another man driving. Moses was forced to hide in the back of the truck, but then, when they thought their followers had gone, he poked his head up and was seen in the side window!

They escaped but with the loss of their driver and truck, so they started walking, Alwan, Moses' father had fought against the Rebels, but that was exactly where they were headed now--hopefully so Moses would be safe. He was different in a way that even Moses didn't realize... Alwan had been shot, and although Moses surprisingly helped his take the bullet out, he was still weak and could not afford to sleep while they traveled.

During their trip, Moses had asked to learn about living like his father had--finding fresh water, learning to track...
having time to bond... Luckily they found an old cabin in the woods and were able to have a roof over their heads for the night. Soon Alwan left to tried to find food, warning Moses to keep hidden until he returned...

But the time was moving slowly and when he heard noises, it wasn't his father...

No wonder readers are requesting more! This could turn into a novella or novel, easily, if that's where Columbus is heading... I, too, am looking forward to seeing what happens!

Moses was beginning to worry.  He went through every star he knew,  and then he did it again.  His father had been gone much longer than normal.  The night was unusually cold, and the fire was starting to die.    Moses covered himself with the blanket.   “Where is he?” Moses wondered.   He looked around, but it was too dark for him  to see anything outside the light of the fire.   

So he sat, and decided to count stars again.   “Ugh,” Moses said aloud.   The boy heard a noise from behind.   

He looked over his shoulder.  The noise got louder.   It was the sound of someone walking.  “Dad?” Moses asked.   

       “Daddy’s home!” a strange voice called back.    Moses jumped up and turned around.    He tripped, nearly falling into the fire.   The footsteps he had heard didn’t belong to one man.    It was three men that he had heard walking. 

       The strangers stood next to each other  on the edge of the campfire’s light.  

                       ~~~  

I'm curious to see how much more this story will run... The author has taken some major steps to fill in on scene, characterization, dialogue, etc... It could be a move forward for this young author I've been watching from the beginning...Go Nocomus! Keep up the solid work, get some help on your proofreading, but...just keep writing!

GABixlerReviews             

Biography

I was born in the home of The King, raised in the Northern part of Clinton's state. I fought a war in Eve's garden and as of right now, I live under a large, metal arch. My profession has me working for The Man, but my passion is to write, however painful it is to read. Thank you for your time

Nocomus Columbus Presents Filth.O: A Silo Saga Short Best of His Short Stories In My Opinion...

Prologue 

My name is Lieutenant McDonald.   Let me take that back actually.   My name WAS Lieutenant McDonald.   I’m just McDonald now.   Old McDonald.   Like the children’s song.   I can’t remember how that song went.   I can’t remember much of anything; got my head bashed in during the rebellion.   It’s the kind of thing that makes you forgetful.   That was years ago.   I think he was a janitor or something. 
"I was a homicide detective.   A lousy one in fact.   That’s an understatement.   I was really, really, bad at my job.   Just to put things into perspective for you as to how much I sucked; in fourteen years as a homicide detective, fourteen fucking years, (that’s five thousand-one-hundred and ten days, not to be exact), I never solved one case.   Not one.   
"Not until my last case.   Doesn’t matter much now though.   Nope.   You know why?   Because I’m going to die.   You want to know something else?   I don’t give a shit.   Not about dying.   Oh I think I remember it now. 
"Old McDonald solved case… 
"Now he gets to clean…" 

Filth.O

By Nocomus Columbus

It's been many, many years since I've heard the word filth used. Remember? "Keep away from that filth. There're just no good filth. Get back in the house!"

You know, calling somebody that is evil Filth just may be the nicest word you could use for many of them... Take the guy that shoots up the girl in the first scene of this book. He calls her tramp, a dirty little tramp...a silo slut...

I can easily call him filth and wish I could have told her to get away from that filth when he first approached her. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have become a slut...

Oh sure, she was a downer, but that didn't make her an addict. That filth made her that way.

I could probably write the story just as it happened. He probably showed real interest in her. Said she was pretty... Maybe even bought her something...kissed her softly...

She fell for him... That stupid filth...I would have told her to stay away from that dirty old man, I've seen enough of them. Many of the uppers are worse than any downer I ever knew, and I've met a few... Yeah, I'm one of the sluts, but I wasn't an addict...Maybe...

Maybe that's why they killed me... And, you know what, it was that filth that did it!

She could have got some type of job as a downer. Maybe even an upper would have hired her to do something to help them--clean their place or something like that...

Nocomus found me way back and asked me to read his first book. I've read all of his short stories since then and have become a fan. His stories are all extremely unique. But, I believe filth just might be his best so far!

Consider the silo society. All of the rich people found their way to the top, while the average or poor individuals took whatever space was left...

In some ways, the uppers and downers also reminded me of many corporations in today's world...where the upper management and the subordinates never meet... You know companies just like that, right?

Thankfully, this Silo is better organized than some of them. They have a group of police officers... Of course, the uppers had them come in as soon as they were comfortable in their new quarters. The police therefore are in the middle--separating the two sections. Isn't that the way it's always been...

“Get the fuck out of my office McDonald, and don’t come back until you can tell me something useful.” 
"When the conversation was over, McDonald lowered his head, stood up, and walked out. McDonald’s boss, the head of the Silo’s Homicide Unit, had a headache.   
"So he did what he always did when he had a headache.   He reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a bottle of pills, and popped a couple into his mouth.   He swallowed them down with a sip of coffee.   He shook his head.   I’m getting too old for this shit.   
"Three dead hookers in one month.   Three girls… naked, wrapped in plastic, dumped in UPPER level corridors.   And all we got is, “he’s white,” Jesus Christ. The head of homicide fell forward in his chair.   He crashed face-first into his desk.   He grabbed his chest with his right hand; his left arm was twitching around uncontrollably, knocking all kinds of shit off of his desk.     As he lay on the desk, he watched his left arm flutter around in a mad dance.   He watched his favorite coffee mug fall to the floor.   It shattered into a hundred-thousand pieces. Fuck. That was my favorite coffee mug. 
"Lieutenant McDonald heard the commotion coming from inside his supervisor’s office.     He had been standing in the hallway staring at an abstract art painting when the sounds of grunting and crashing tickled his eardrums...
"McDonald struggled to move the large man, destroying more precious items similar to the coffee mug in the process. After a few more minutes of struggling, he was finally able to roll his boss off of the desk. The fat man fell to the floor with a thud, letting out what sounded like a fart, a sound that would normally generate a laugh. Not today. McDonald wasn’t sure if his supervisor was conscious or breathing or what. The man’s eyes were closed. The subordinate leaned in to perform man mouth-to-mouth. Their lips were less than an inch apart. The captain opened his eyes.
“Fuck off McDonald!” Those were the captain’s last words.  He exhaled one final breath.   Pissed himself. And Died."

~~~

But there was one cop... Lt. McDonald. He had been a good cop before we had to come into the silo. Now? Not so much... But when his chief died, he stood up and became a man itching to solve a case...

"And he did..."

dornob.com

"Upcycling" old silos had been an idea that
was immediately called genius...So they had upcycled quite a number of them. Of course, by the time they were done, nobody would have been able to project that you couldn't go outside any more...

So the chief, before he died, and actually before he was named chief, had suggested that criminals be sent out to clean the windows as their punishment... Just that one idea got him promoted! Lt. McDonald hadn't realized that if you got ideas that the Uppers might reward you... so he got busy and he solved the case!

McDonald's and Sol (Photo credit: lurkernation)

Well, yes, he did...but... by now you should probably know that silo sagas usually have weird endings... I loved this one...

Need a break from reality. Try Nocomus Columbus... He's out of this world!



GABixlerReviews

Nocomus Columbus' Silo Saga: Silo 34 - The Horror of Being Alone... of Isolation... Separation...

"There’s one rule in life.   That’s it.   Rule number one, the only rule, the golden rule; No one goes below level 34.   He broke the rule.   I tried, did everything in my power to stop him.   I even followed the old man down, followed him until I couldn’t follow any further."



Silo Saga:
Silo 34

By Nocomus Columbus

Nocomus Columbus introduced me to what I could assume is a cult following for Hugh Howey... This has been opened up via the Internet that permits Fan Fiction to be created. Hurrah, something good should come from this because the U.S. has definitely been fan oriented for many years! I've never heard of Howey, but that really doesn't matter, because the fiction created has no real or legal relationship to what is, has been, or will be created by this author. It is merely a "take-off" from a concept favored by the new author and used to create something all his own...

Nocomus got on the Silo Saga with two short stories in one book, selling for just 99 cents. There are many others writing in the Saga series so if you enjoy short stories and this concept, check it out! I might even submit some from me! LOL...cool idea!

Now Nocomus writes somewhat weird stuff, if you've read him before. I've become one of his fans since I enjoy the unique, the conceptual landscape that is created from just one word: Silo...

What if you lived in a silo? Perhaps the world outside has been contaminated from some of the horrendous toxins or warfare used these days? Or perhaps you came into a life that was in fear of nuclear war and the silo was prepared for that event, like the old days of underground shelters? Or, perhaps there is a perfect world outside full of sunshine, but you were born in a silo and have never left because others living in that silo warned against leaving...

silo (Photo credit: Krebs' Class)

You would never know what was real, would you?


Jonah is gone now. He was the last one in Silo 34 other than me. I'm 13...

Now what am I supposed to do?

“I already told you!”, the old man growled.

"What do you mean?   This?”   

13 held up the letter. 

"Yeah! Now piss off boy!” 

13 held up the letter, irritated with Jonah, 

but frightened at the same time.  

“’ Dear 13.   Goodbye.   Jonah.’”  

~~~

Jonah had been the only person in 13's life for all his life. Jonah had tried to teach him as much as he could--as much as he knew...

But, that didn't mean much when 13 was alone...

Before he left, Jonah had started talking about somebody else in the Silo, asking 13 if he saw him. Each time he looked, 13 answered "no."

Finally, he lied and told him yes--that he would keep watching so that Jonah could sleep now.

Of course the silo was so big that if one of them left and went to explore other parts of the silo, above level 34, they could lose each other, maybe for hours. If more than 4 went by, 13 would go look for Jonah.

Of course, also, they didn't know how long 4 hours were, or whether it was night or day. But when they didn't know, they created their own body schedule for sleeping and eating...

But now Jonah was gone...

You know when 13 lied about not seeing that other person in the silo? Well there really was somebody there.

Her voice came to him...



Part II - Solipsism

In this life we are given one birth and one death. 
That is all that is certain. 
“What a mess”, Jimi shook his head, a head full of question devoid of answer.
Clifton worried about the big man. The way he carried himself had changed. 
His broad shoulders hung lower, like he was gradually sinking into the silo. 
Aren’t we all sinking?
Jimi- a man built to endure. Not built for this horror. No one is.
“You ever seen anything…” Clifton started to ask, before being cut off. 
“No” Jimi kept his gaze locked on the body on the floor. 
Clifton wasn’t sure if Jimi answered his question, or if “No” just meant that there would be no conversation. 
Either way, he decided not to push it. 
While Jimi knelt down to study the body, Clifton’s eyes were drawn elsewhere.
~~~

Clifton and Jimi had never seen the dead man before. Where and how could a stranger be here? They would notify the cleanup crew, but knew they wouldn't do anything... They never did...

It appeared to be suicide again--11 in 4 months... Suicide had occurred before, but never this many. Something must have happened, but what?

Clifton went to where he lived and read until Janis came. Since Clifton was always reading, she asked him whether it was another philosophy book. He told her he was reading Solipsism. That God didn't exist and neither did she... In fact, he didn't know anything about the past since that was only what was from his imagination.

Janis was not impressed, of course...

But Her Voice came to him later that night. Fortunately Janis woke him...

It had been 12 years ago when they had found Clifton deep within the silo...he didn't know who he was nor how long he had been where they found him...

Then in the midst of a large group of silo dwellers at a dance, she asked him if he was ready... To Go Outside...

Columbus' writing makes you think. He demands that you enter into the world that he has created for you. If you do not go willingly, he will not force you. If you are not willing, you may rate his books low. For those who go willingly, he shares with readers about feelings, internal feelings that you may not wish to face. For someone like me, who is alone most of my days, I know of what he writes. For some it will be frightening. For me, the silo is a version of my cabin. I love being alone in my cabin. Can you deal with isolation? If not, you'll find living in his silo a strange place, a horrible place--a place where some commit suicide because of where they live.

If you lived in the silo, would you create an outside world?

Perhaps Nocomus' world is that outside world... Would you stay?

Much to ponder, much to consider... Nocomus Columbus has a unique style of writing that is edgy, unorthodox but his work is well-written... I visited the Silo 34 'cause I'm a fan. But there were too many silo-dwellers partying, so I left to head home... LOL  Try his latest and let me know what you think...

GABixlerReviews

See Also:

http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2013/06/nocomus-columbus-spits-out-new-food.htmlhttp://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheav

http://gabixlerpersonalopinion.blogspot.com/2013/05/nocomus-columbus-street-lit-whips-up.html?zx=b96accaacc3c905f

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Nocomus Columbus Spits Out New "Food Therapy" for Readers' Consumption!

"The beginning of the dream was a breathtaking image. Corey, able to walk, able to move with no limitations. Just himself, alone, in a room full of pizza boxes.   Such is ecstasy.            
"Corey places both hands on a pizza box located on top of a stack of other pizza boxes. He rubs his hands on the cardboard. Softly.   He draws the aroma into his nostrils. Savoring the smell, the spices. Pure bliss. Slowly, he lifts the lid of the pizza box. Nearly powerless, almost unwilling to contain his excitement.   Is this what God felt like when he created Adam?   Is this what Mary felt like when she looked into her son’s eyes for the first time?            
"The box is empty. How can it be? I can smell it. Tranquility abandoned. The ecstasy. The bliss. No more.   He works his way from box to box each box, each one like the next. Empty.            
"The smell of spice and cardboard persists. Panic. Only one box remains. There must be something in this box. There must. He closes his eyes. He opens the last box..."
~~~

Food Therapy

By Nocomus Columbus

Like Dale "The Whale" Biederbeck, a character in the famous Mr. Monk series, Corey is now condemned to spend his life in bed... His mother his only...supporter. They made due on the money that was provided by his father's company after he was killed on the job. My thought about him was that he was OCD--but you'll have to decide that for yourself. There's a couple of clues!

After his father was killed, it really didn't affect Corey that much since his father had never spent time with him, preferring to use his free time with his LEGGO collection and building models, which of course Corey was not allowed to touch...

Once the money was gone, his mother had to get a job to make more money than her teaching so she learned how to be a massage therapist. Corey's room was changed to one of the first floor since he had reached 800 pounds, so that he was able to set up a system for having pizza delivered. A young delivery girl, overweight, often delivered the pizza and was nice to say hello to him, but she never would come in... 

Corey's mother established her business on the second floor--perhaps doing a little more than advertised. My hint was her "brushing her teeth" after every client but you can decide because of course Corey didn't know... but he knew his mother had some weird customers!

One guy named Jim would stop and talk to him before or even after his appointments... Corey enjoyed spending time with this new friend...

"Jim came by the house once a week.   Corey always looked forward to his time with Jim.   Jim and Corey would talk for a while, and then Corey’s mom would come downstairs and get Jim. After they were finished doing whatever they did upstairs, Jim would come back down and visit with Corey some more.   If Corey’s mother didn’t have a client booked after Jim, he’d sit and talk with Corey even longer.   "Corey found out that Jim had a daughter. Becky was her name.   Jim hadn’t seen Becky in years.   He said he couldn’t. He said Becky’s mother wouldn’t let him see her.   He said Becky’s mother told Becky he was a bad man, and that he was dead, which Corey thought was horrible.   Corey hated Becky’s mother for doing this to Jim.                     Jim also told Corey that he used to be in the Army.   He didn’t talk about that much.   Jim said he was retired now, said he received disability from the military, although he wouldn’t say what the disability was.   He just said that war changes people, and not for the better. 
"Jim also said he wanted to get an RV, and travel to every state except Hawaii.  One afternoon during a visit, Jim asked Corey if he could date his mom.   This pleased Corey, not only because he liked Jim, but because he asked Corey for permission to date his mother.   He respects me.                                   ~~~

Napoli. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)"What do you mean Corey?"
"I mean, I took your advice. Now I have
2 friends...
"At that moment, Corey felt an
irrepressible hunger. He surveyed the
ash-filled room. The Pizza! He looked at
the slices of pizza sitting at room
temperature before him. He focused
on the largest piece. There were pieces
of Sam on it..."
~~~

But one day a preacher man came to meet with his mother, which changed everything. For one, the man carried something like a vase with him and would leave it in Corey's room. Corey was confused when the man told him that it was the remains of his son Sam...

Soon Sam and Corey were having conversations...



Corey is a social networker, having 352 friends until Sam suggested he put his real picture up on Phasebook...

Then Corey accidentally dropped Sam and he flew everywhere. He didn't like preacher man anyway...

Columbus' first novel, 3:53 a.m. was much more graphic and violent in content and language. This time, he presents a subtle, but definite horror fantasy that, once again, forces you to read each and every word to comprehend his story. Not a bad thing in my opinion. Because it forces you to remember his characters and how they were involved...Take the ending for instance...

All I've got to say is that he should have been faster in listening to Sam...

His overall writing style continues as his first novel, however. In many ways, it's merely a copy of the journal he might keep. If his mind wanders you get to start with:

Not long after creation. Not long in terms of the infinite. A single moment of frustration. Abandoning all his senses. HE shattered the first conception. Shattered it in style, of course. An explosion so bright even HE had to look away. Bursting into a billion tiny little particles. Atomic shrapnel. HE watched with a smirk as the particles joined with one another. Joined in a dance. Propelled together by a mutual attraction. Defiance. Later on He watched as THEY limped out of the ocean. Rebellion. Those unintended perversions. Those twisted images of himself. In time THEY became something else. God-like but not quite. These insignificant pieces lost in dissatisfaction. Micro-deities of imperfection. HE watches. Nothing more.

I'm enjoying reading this new writer who claims he's not an author...But I will tell you that his writing continues to improve and he has an excellent grasp of using street lit to share his thoughts with his readers. A little mystery, a little murder, a little spooky, a little humor, a little...sad...

Great combination for those who enjoy the extraordinary, the unusual, the...strange...once in a while, like I do!
Highly recommended!


GABixlerReviews