Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

As I trade punches with Grammar Nazi Prime on top of a speeding bullet train, I scream:  “THE WORLD WILL NEVER BOW TO YOUR LOVE OF RED INK AND PEDANTIC NITPICKING!  THEY WANT ROBOTS AND WIZARDS, NOT YOUR EMO BULLSHIT DETAILING THE PLIGHT OF THE HUMAN CONDITION THROUGH STOOPID-ASS PRETENTIOUSNESS!”

He hunches down and back-sweeps my legs, and I hit the hull of the train with a painful WHOOMP.  I hear the scrape of his boot-knife as he draws it from its sheath—a three-inch blade that’s fitted with a finger-loop to maximize grip—and he pounces on me, aiming the tip of his weapon directly at my eye.  I barrel-roll left and we pass through a tunnel.  As the world goes dark, the roar of howling wind fills my ears.  I scrabble for purchase as I slide off the train—

—SHIT—

—and manage to grab onto the ledge with a single hand, my legs kicking beneath me as I dangle and flail.  With a pained grunt, I swing my other arm up and grab hold of the ledge with my other hand.  We emerge from the tunnel and my heart drops in my chest.

Grammar Nazi Prime is standing directly above me, wind ruffling his Euro-trash clothes, a giant smile on his chinless face.

“And so dies the infamous Kent Wayne, forgettable author and feckless Man Whore.  Look at yourself:  holding on by the tips of your fingers, dressed in nothing but booty shorts and bow tie.  While I—”

“—look like an off-the-shelf, testerone-free Bond villain,” I finish.  “You’ve forgotten one thing, Grammar Nazi Prime.”

He raises an eyebrow.  “Oh?”

“In order to qualify as a Man Whore, my penis had to undergo brutal training—a regimen that would have broken the Dark Knight himself.”

He cocks his head and gives me a puzzled look.  Before he can ask me to elaborate, I flex my Destructo-cock and it rips through its safety harness, rampaging through my pants and shattering the passenger window in front of my hips.  I kip my legs and fly into the train cabin, landing in a scatter of broken glass.  No time to re-harness my dick—I sling it across my neck so it doesn’t get in the way, and quickly make my way up to the conductor’s compartment, where Grammar Nazi Prime has placed his Red Ink bomb.

After scurrying through a series of cabins, I break into the compartment and fix my eyes on a monster piece of ordnance.  Grammar Nazi Prime has affixed a digital timer onto the front of the bomb, just like the movies.  He didn’t have to do that; he wants me to know how much time I have before this thing detonates.

Which, according to the display, is less than a minute.

Less than a minute until the entire city is covered in Red Ink, and every citizen within its boundaries is transformed into a raving Grammar Nazi.

Unlike Batman in Frank Miller’s classic, “The Dark Knight Returns,” I’m not packing any liquid nitro to freeze this fucker, but just like the Caped Crusader, I have neither the time nor right to utter a prayer.

So I reach into a secret compartment in my booty shorts, withdraw my eReader, and open it to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

The display on the bomb begins whirling and spinning like I just hit the jackpot on a Vegas slot machine.  After a few manic seconds, it reads:

“RED INK NULLIFIED.  NOW ARMED WITH MAN CHILD PROTEIN POWDER.”

Grammar Nazi Prime bursts into the conductor’s cabin, fixes his eyes on the display, and his gaze widens with dawning horror.  Everyone knows that along with hill sprints, squats, and any activity that raises t-levels, Grammar Nazis are deathly allergic to protein powder.

“No…” he whispers.

I give him a beatific grin.  “Yes.”

Then I dive sideways and throw an elbow into the cockpit glass.  I burst from the train, plummeting down towards a lake that’s 50 ft. below.  The timer hits 0 and the bomb goes off.  Right before he disappears in a flash of amino acids, I hear Gramar Nazi Prime screaming:

“DAMN YOU KENT WAYNE!  DAAAAMMMMMNNNN YOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuu…”

Ha HA!  b’KAM!

The adventures of your favorite author (and perennial Man Child) Kent Wayne continue!

 

Are you locked in a 90s-action-movie death-match with some douche-faced Grammar Nazi, battling for the fate of all writers?  Never fear!  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book

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