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Posted: 11/4/2014 8:47 AM PST
(gar looks like my first reply didn't post.... so sr. if their are 2 texts.....) 1. i like your idea and the story 2. a few things... water won't run after a certain time threw the pipes since its either stored in water towers... or pushed threw the pipes by an pump... in both cases... that won't be working. ----add some paragraphs, its kinda hard to read... 3. this is more to the context... why would they knock him out, rob him and then take him with them? Seriously i would just dump him... but this is your story, your choice 4. i would like to read more. 5. if you have the time check out... 6. what people like to do is to break lamps and put the glass pieces in front of the door, that way you'll hear immediately when someone has entered...
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Posted: 10/27/2014 2:23 PM PST
Wow, really interesting.  So many questions popped up in my mind like who kidnapped him and is this hooded person the same person and why had they helped him.  It has a lot of potential.  About the only crit I can say is to break it up into smaller paragraphs to make it a little easier to read.  I can't think of anything else that jumped out at me other than the questions about who the people were and why they wanted him and even if almost everyone had died, why wasn't some kind of government or anything starting to pick up the pieces by now.  
Anyway I have two stories on here and both need feedback so if you have a chance please check them out.

I know my short critique isn't much but I hope it was somewhat helpful.
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Posted: 10/27/2014 11:14 AM PST
Sure thing, just give me a link or something!
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Posted: 10/26/2014 9:13 PM PST
Look for a massage in your inbox around the 1st or the 2nd. Would you mind giving my project a look over?
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Posted: 10/17/2014 11:34 PM PDT
My name is Jack Rodgers, and I am an Immune...

Day 1: July 31, 2016  
6:30 AM I slammed my fist down on my alarm clock, the obnoxious beeping immediately silenced. I didn’t want to get up, school was closed (possibly forever) weeks ago, all my immediate family were dead, as well as most of my friends; the unlucky ones who didn’t have the cancer suppressing genes that would have kept them alive. But how were we, the immune, the lucky ones? Lucky to be alive? I don’t think so. Living on to see your family and friends fade away and society collapse? Yeah, we should be so thankful for that. It had been a month since scientists around the world found the “cure” to cancer. It was a scientific miracle…. until they realized what went wrong. This “cure” caused cancer cells in the lungs of people to develope a way of traveling outside of the body, causing a cancer based epidemic to form, spreading through the air, infecting many, killing all. The only few humans alive would be the ones who were born with cancer suppressing genes, that would be me, but nobody else I knew or cared about I sat up, feeling depressed as my feet hit my bedroom floor. I sluggishly dressed in my usual garb: Army Green Cargo pants, black hooded jacket, long-sleeved shirt, and running sneakers. I walked to the bathroom, to splash water in my face, when I looked up into the mirror and saw a stranger. His brown hair, green eyes, and slim muscular body all beyond my recognition. I had changed so much since this started, but not for the better. I could not be forgiven after what I have done, and, not for the first time, wished for my old life, wished for God to make my existence end. I shook off the mixed feeling of longing, and depression and grabbed my pack as I creeped down the stairs to the first floor. I stopped at the landing and listened…. nothing. I slowly crouched down, picking up a discarded shoe, and threw it into the living room. It hit a lamp with a clatter and I listened more closely. After five minutes, content with the fact that no one had broken in, and glad no one had slit my throat while I slept (it’s a crazy world, you hear more and more about these horrors everyday), I moved out into the kitchen and rummaged through the now very bare pantry closet. I grabbed two cans of baked beans and a tiny jar of peanut butter. After I got what little food I had packed, I went through a mental list of what else I needed: food (check), water, radios (check), laptop, charging cable, more water, machete, flashlight, medical supplies, and batteries. “Crap,” I sighed, looking at my watch, “I wanted to be out by seven….” and I trudged through the house to look for my supplies.
7:15 AM I’m finally out the door, and with my backpack slung over my shoulders and my machete at my waist, I walked away from my house for the last time, never to return to the horrible memories. I walked and walked, not stopping, not knowing where I was going to go, not knowing what I was going to do. Just walked. Then I ran, I ran from the memories, ran from the world, ran from what I had done, ran from justice. I took a sharp right and ran into the forest. I glanced behind me, believing that something was after me. The last thing I remember seeing before I was knocked unconcious was the glint of a metal object as it colided with my face. When I finally came to, I was in the trunk of a car bumping down an unpaved road. I reached up to rub my head only to find my hands bound, and my legs were tied in a like fashion. Despite having wanted my life to end, my survival instincts kicked in as I glanced around the trunk. There was a hefty pipe in the corner, but other than that, there was nothing. I didn’t have my machete or my supplies either. It seemed pretty bad. I scooted over to the pipe and awkwardly sllid it into my waistband. I flipped toward the trunk lid and looked above it. Just as I expected, a glow in the dark handle to open it from the inside. I reached out and pulled my hand back. My driver will know as soon as I open the trunk, so I’ll have to act quickly. I took a few deep breaths and pulled the handle. My original guess had been wrong, we were flying down the highway, which is why my kidnappers hadn’t bothered to remove the trunk latch, and (if I’m lucky) wont expect me to jump. The highway was covered in glass and metal, not an ideal landing, but I had no idea how far from town I was, and I didn’t have any supplies. I had no choice.
I braced myself and rolled out, hitting the road hard, the air knocked from my lungs as the car continued to drive, not even slowing down. My adrenaline was pumping, eyes darting around and finding a nice bit of metal to cut my bounds with. I inched toward it slowly, feeling pain all over as I grasped the scrap metal in the hand and began to saw through my bonds. I was moving to cut my feet lose when I noticed a stabbing pain in my side. I looked down and cringed at a piece of scrap metal impaled into my side, blood pumping out of the wound. I hung onto consciousness, the only thing keeping me alive, and ripped my shirt off. As I ripped iT into bandages I thought about how I was going to wrap the wound without removing the metal. I tied a bandage on each side of the impaled object, slowing the blood flow considerably. I quickly cut my feet free and struggled painfully to me feet. I spun a circle, looking for any sign of “civilization” with no luck. I started walking one way, hoping for a miracle as I felt my blood draining and with it, my life. I walked a mile, then another, I was almost at three miles when I tripped. My face hit the ground with a disgusting crunching noise as my jaw broke. I tried to grit my teeth to keep from screaming but that made it worse. A blood curdling scream came from my lips and echoed for miles. Tears rolled down my face, I no longer had any strength to get up. I cried for my mom, and dad as I faded mercifully into unconsciousness.

Time: ??:??
I came to in a dark room. I shivered and attempted to sit up, falling back down with a grunt as pain traveled up my side. I glanced at where I was impaled and was surprised to see that there was nothing sticking out of my side. I pulled up my shirt, there was a bandage wrapped around my body. Did I do that? I suddenly became light headed and laid my head down on the ground. I glanced around, taking in the room; it was obviously a basement, however the windows were boarded up and it was dark, the only light being cast was by an oil lamp on the side of the room. Other than that, there was a ladder in the corner of the room to my right and that was it, no furniture, nothing. I was pondering the use of this room when I heard a latch click somewhere to my right. I turned my head in the direction of the sound, and saw a figure dressed in black climb down the ladder. It never occurred to me that I could be in the custody of a dangerous psychopath, but now I was very scared, desperately struggling to get my feet under me. I fell back even further, sliding back away from the advancing form until I eventually hit the wall. I close my eyes and waited, expecting the worst, when something metal was dropped at my feet. I opened my eyes slowly, looking at the thing at my feet, instantly noticing the red handle and dull metal blade of my machete. I snathed it up, sticking it in my belt as I tried to stand again, and, once again, falling on my ass. The black clad figure had a hood on, and they offered me a hand. I took it and he hauled me onto my feet. I instantly knew that I was not in any shape to be moving, but if this stranger was smart enough to save me, then I trusted he would know when he needed to be on the move. He ran ahead to the ladder, motioning for me to follow, with a sense of urgency. I half jogged, half limped over to the ladder and climbed up after my savior. When I got to the top, I needed help getting up again, the stranger was getting frustrated. He went under my knees and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I grunted at the sudden movement but stayed as silent as possible, hearing the crunching of glass outside.
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