Plagiarizing Cormac Mccarthy Ftw

[idiot-monarch]

Obviously inspired by The Road and, to a lesser extent, No Country for Old Men. I just love his writing style so much that i wanted to do something similar. I very rarely write and don't really care for literature too much, so this isn't too great, but there you have it.

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Birds outside. Morning. Time to wake up.

He took off the layers of blankets one by one and was careful to put them back on the girl. She was still sleeping. He put on his shoes and his pants and his jacket and he crawled out of the tent and he stood up in the field. Their white tent in the corner of a ruined brick building under the half collapsed but now stable stairs. The sky as white as the fresh snow on the ground. The pine forest across the field and uphill a little bit. He breathed in the fresh morning air after spending the night in the humid tent. He put his hands up over his head and stood on his fingertips and stretched and inhaled deeply and exhaled and let his hands down again and then just stood there for a while looking for any movement on the field. Nothing as always. He bent down and went back into the tent.

She was still sleeping and he didn't want to wake her. He drank some warm water from the thermos and poured some in his flask and took the revolver from under his pillow and checked the cylinder and counted the cartridges. Three chambered. He put the revolver in his pocket and put the flask in the backpack and took a pair of binoculars from the backpack and put them around his neck and put on the backpack and crawled out of the tent and stood up and started walking across the field towards the forest.

He walked until he was near the feeding spot in the thick of the forest. Everyday he comes and leaves some corn to attract the animals. He crouched and listened to his surroundings. Analyzed his surroundings first without his binoculars then with. Dead quiet except for the wind shaking the treetops. Not a living being in sight. He approached the feeding spot and crouched and pulled out some old canned corn from his backpack and put some on the ground where there was old bread and peanut butter and a little bit of bird meat. Something had been eating the food over the night. He hoped whatever it was brought friends. He went away from the feeding spot and spread a blanket over the snowy ground. He then lay on it and put his revolver in front of him and took the binoculars in his hands and looked at the feeding spot through them. He lay there like that for a long time. At least it felt like a long time. He wasn't sure. It didn't really matter.

He noticed some movement. A part of the ground moving. Like rippled glass waved across the ground. When it came to a dark tree the silhouette became visible. A plump white rabbit. He put down the binoculars and took the revolver in his hands. He straightened one of his hand and tried aiming at the rabbit. Tightened his grip and held his breath. No. Can't do it. Too far. The rabbit was still there but who knows for how long. He got up holding the binoculars to his eyes with one hand and holding the gun with the other. He tried to approach slowly. A tree root. He trips and falls in the snow with a dull thud the snow softening the fall. He got up again and wiped the snow off of the binoculars and looked through them again. It took him a second to find the feeding spot again. The rabbit was looking in his direction one of its ears twitching slightly. Still too far. He took another step forwards and the rabbit ran off. Damn it he thought. Enough commotion already. Nothing will come here for a while. He went back to his hunting spot packed the blanket back in the backpack and put the backpack over his shoulders and set out back to the tent.

He started walking across the field seeing the tent from this side. He then heard something up ahead. A sound he hadn't heard for a very long time echoing through the air. It can't be. He pulled up the binoculars and watched the horizon. Then he saw it. Oh God he thought. A truck.

The brown beat up Ford Ranger was trudging towards the ruins. He made a run for the tent trying to position himself so that the ruins block the view of him. The sound of the truck becoming more louder and excruciating every second. I should have left the gun with her he thought. I shouldn't have tried catching anything today. Why didn't I leave the gun with her. He reached a waist high wall and peeked over the top. The truck halted to a stop a few meters away from him. He hid once again as he heard the engine stop and the doors of the truck open. He sat there listening revolver gripped tightly in his hand and his back against the wall. One pair of legs hit the ground. Then another. The doors shut closed. Two of them got out. How many in the back?

You go around that side one of them said.

Two pairs of footsteps. One going around the outer wall on the other side. One nearing him. He crouched down facing the nearest set of footsteps and straightened his arms ready to take the shot at whatever rounded the corner. They were moving at an excruciatingly slow pace. Just get this over with he though. You or me he thought. No other way this is going to go down.
As the footsteps neared the corner they stopped. Damn he thought. Whoever was behind that corner had seen the footprints. They stood like that for a moment. Made more horrifying by the other set of footsteps approaching him from the other side. Finally the man behind the corner rounded it in a swift movement ready to fire his rifle. One round from the revolver entered his chest. He slumped to the ground. The man turned around quickly to face the other sets of footsteps. He fired another round as the other man turned the corner. This time a headshot. He quickly got up to go to the tent. Another shot. He was shot in the shoulder. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet as he turned around. The first man he shot still alive trying to reload the rifle. He shot him for the second time. This time in the face. Out of ammo. He scrambled for the rifle trying to stay low. He picked up the rifle and loaded the new clip into it. He cautiously moved around the corner and went around the truck peering into the windows. It had just been the two men. He sat down with his back against the truck pressing his wound with one hand.

It's safe to come out! he yelled.
The girl got out of the tent.
There's a pistol on one of them he told her. Go grab it.
Are you alright?
I'm going to need the first aid kit.
I'll go grab it. Were you shot?
Just a scratch.
Thank God.
She brought him the first aid kit from the tent. Let me see the wound she said.
Wait.
What?
Take the car key out of the ignition.
Alright.
She took the car keys and the pistol and put it in her pockets and took off his jacket and pulled his shirt off of the wound and started treating it.
You're lucky you're alive.
So are you.
She smiled but didn't say anything.
We're going to have to leave here she said.
Yes we are.
Yes we are.

[idiot-monarch]

Bumping this. I'd love to hear some thoughts.