Sam McNair: Writer for Hire

‘I won’t die here.’ I thought, before I leaned into the wheel with all my might, leading the boat along the edge of the plume. The helm creaked around us as the rest of the ship groaned under the stress, but it would hopefully hold for a while longer. The storm outside was loud even with the walls dulling it but after a few minutes went by, the noise slowly began to leave us. I must have been standing there for a good half an hour until the adrenaline seeped out of my system..., my breathing no longer as erratic as it once was and now only slow deep gulps of air. I I did it? I did it. I don’t know how to feel about that. It almost doesn’t feel real. The Captain chortled at my emotionally drained celebration of success, patting me on the shoulder with no small measure of force. You did good lad! Now, do us all a favour and wake up. Wha- Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Blinding white scalds my eyes. A gasp, then a crash. Mumbling. Sobbing? My face feels wet. I don’t mind it. And I feel warm, very warm. It’s nice. -FIN- And that's it. It's funny, I initially planned for this story to go in a completely different direction. The Captain wasn't supposed to be a thing, or even the truth of what is going on. This all just... happened. I like what it turned into, and I hope you do as well!

I began to pray that this zombie, was not talking about what I thought he was. Another option had come to mind in my panic, but this was real life! This wasn’t some action movie where I could just pull off some stunt and live to tell the tale! But I did have an expert on hand. I swallowed. Will will that even work? Won’t the wind just get stronger, pull us in the closer we go? A short laugh, straight from the belly. ...Continue reading

I pulled myself back from observing my surroundings and pushed the pain to side, walking forward down the hallway. There were doors on either side that I tried to open to no success, and it was only when I came to a stairwell leading upwards that I felt the beginnings of progress. The stairs led me to a corpse. The storm outside was increasing in it’s appeal. The corpse did not look abnormal besides being a well, a corpse, dressed in a brightly coloured yellow jacket compl...Continue reading

I awoke to chaos made manifest. The wrath of nature scorned is rightly feared by man, especially by those who fare the sea. We have all heard stories both fictional and otherwise about entire fleets being lost to a maelstrom or ocean liners being smashed to bits by waves twice their size, their crews never being heard from again. But as I pushed myself to my knees and looked upon the horrific sight before me, I knew that those stories may not have been as exaggerated as I on...ce thought. Far into the distance amidst a powerful downpour I could see a massive plume of foamy green stretching from the sea to the heavens, like a pillar supporting a roof. The frequent flashes of lighting illuminated the terrifying thing in short bursts, but it was enough to truly grasp how large it truly was. My head swam and my ears were ringing as I attempted to stand only to fall back to my knees. Even on the floor I could not keep my balance as the floor, or deck I suppose, bucked with great force. How did I get here? Was I laying in my bed asleep? No. The searing pain in my ribs felt far too real. Meaning I had to be on a ship of sorts, and from the size of the deck it was likely a small one. I looked behind me to find a rectangular structure a few feet behind me, windows slick with rainwater and cracks. I pulled myself towards it in desperation. I didn’t how I had gotten here in the first place, but if I was to find a way out then I would need to get my bearings. Getting out of the rain would only help with that. The outline of a door became clear as I approached and the dim light above it weakly flickered, a pale orange drifting in and out of existence. Grasping the metal handle, I pulled downward with all my strength. The heavy metal door groaned as I freed it from it’s threshold and I hurriedly made my way past it, making sure to close it behind myself. The second the door’s mechanism closed shut, the throbbing in my head was once drowned out by the storm now had free reign. My skull felt as if it were about to burst from the pressure but I forced myself to remain standing. Fighting through the pain, I took a moment to look around the hall I now found myself in. Pale green paint hung to the walls and floor while the roof seemed to be fully inhabited by pipes painted a dull red. I found it odd that one would paint the ceiling, let alone pipes, before I realized that the dull red was not in fact paint, but rust.