Minutemen: The Crucible -Chapter 5-

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4



Chapter 5 – “City Limits”

Charles River
City of Boston
United North American Protectorate
October 10, 2552

“So I’m railing this chick from behind, right?”

Tim McManus and Rachel Lynch warily looked over their shoulders from the front of a tiny motorboat. Behind the water craft, Harvard University burned. The three survivors had gone through collapsing buildings, the assumed deaths of all their friends, and failed miserably in their mission to save other survivors on the campus.

The path ahead appeared no better.

The rickety craft they were trapped on sputtered and puttered along at an agonizingly slow pace, weaving past partially submerged chunks of high-rise office buildings, floating sections of obliterated trees, and bobbing corpses. Until Ron Parsons had spoken, the group had sat in soppy silence for upwards of fifteen minutes. Tim’s brown eyes narrowed in a look that asked just what Ron was on about.

“We’re going at it for, like, forty minutes. Intense stuff.”

Rachel tilted her perfectly proportioned face in utter disturbed confusion.

Parsons looked at his two companions like they had grown extra heads. “Come on, at the forty minute mark you start to get bored unless you’re changing it up.”

McManus turned his attention to the approaching river bank and the smoking, demolished city of Boston ahead. “I’m not entirely sure why we’re sharing this, Ron.”

Parsons threw his hands up. “You know what? Fine. Let’s just sit here in silence while I putter across the River Styx and we can just stew in our thoughts about Boston being destroyed and our friends being dead and Earth being invaded by the goddamn Covenant…which, if you do the short math, means we’re going to die, by the way.”

The antique gas-powered outboard motor took over the conversation as Ron proceeded to pout in the back of the boat. “Don’t know why I’m driving this friggin’ thing anyway,” he muttered to himself.

“All right,” Lynch sighed, turning her body toward Parsons but staring up at the sky. “So what happened next?”

The blonde-haired, slightly lanky Bostonian brightened. “So I decide I’m going to just go for it and put it in her ass.” Ron ignored the disapproving looks his boorish tale was receiving and kept on. “So she gives me the fish eye, right? She asks, ‘The hell do you think you’re doing?’ I say, ‘I was gonna put it in your ass.’ She gets all high and mighty and says, ‘Well that’s a bit presumptuous,’ and I go, ‘Presumptuous?’ Damn, that’s a big word for a nine-year-old.”

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Minutemen: The Crucible -Chapter 1-


308905-reach_superCHAPTER 1 – “CLASS DISMISSED”

“When we lost Earth, we lost everything. What got us through the first day was making sure we didn’t lose ourselves.” -Capt. Jack O’Shea, UNSC Marine Corps.

Harvard University
City of Boston
United North American Protectorate
October 20, 2552

Dylan was having morning sex again.

Jesus, Tim McManus thought to himself as his top bunk bed shuddered rhythmically, does he really think he’s alone at nine in the morning? Tim closed his eyes tightly and tried to block out the squeaking and pleasured grunts and muffled moans beneath him. The Harvard University Junior smothered himself with his pillow, but the smart memory foam immediately shifted to give him comfort and let the carnal symphony continue at full volume. Tim did everything he could to put himself into a comatose state, but with the early morning sunlight streaming in through the large bedroom windows, it was an impossible task. McManus rubbed his eyes vigorously, took a deep breath, and rolled so he hung over the edge of his bed and violated the airspace of the couple beneath him.

“Look, I’m not against morning sex,” Tim said nonchalantly, as Dylan and his girlfriend jumped backwards in shock and attempted to burrow underneath the sheets. “In fact, I often prefer it. The light’s nice, kinda romantic, there’s an excess of Testosterone, you get a start on the day, you wake up your roommate better than his alarm clock…”

As if on cue, Tim’s clock leapt to life from his desk in big blue holographic numbers and began playing a futuristic indie rock tune. Upside down, with unkempt, brown hair hanging from his head, McManus attempted a smile and nod. “But could you finish up? I have a big paper due in like an hour.” Tim broke out a mischievous half-grin. “Unless you guys need a hand.”

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