GUS HAS WRITE STUFF
READ GUS’S BOOK EXTRACT
C HRIS could not, would not, try to understand what the sign meant. So many had been forced into darkness. The small dome would be covered in the catalytic black mist. Now Chris was more than glad he had the mask. He had to protect it, though hopefully not with his life. Chris’ attention was suddenly drawn to something else. A loud, ominous creaking. The logs began to move.
Chris moved faster than he thought humanly possible. He loaded every thing that hadn’t fallen below where he was, back into his bag. He slid the glasses on, and sheathed his hunting knife. He pulled his body up, his bag hanging off one shoulder. He wrenched his shoulder as the log started rolling. He skittered along the slippery tree, gripping with his hands and fingernails. He felt a blow against his back, but he kept scrambling over the trees, branches stabbing into him. Black mist sprayed from his body. He jumped up, launched himself onto another log. It rolled forward, and Chris almost fell off, through the gaps below, where he would be crushed, become the darkness he hated. The tumbling of the logs was hazardous and random. Many times he almost got obliterated by an old tree, it’s branches sticking out like spikes on a mace. He tried to escape the moving maze of logs, jumping and grabbing the logs, only for them to be replaced by another log. It was like an endless climb. The wall was moving, the trees were moving, he was moving. But could Chris keep the pace up? He tried going forward but his path was always blocked by another rolling log. Up was the only way out. Chris doubted his arms could keep the pace up for much longer. His body was already starting to ache painfully. He could be crushed at any moment. The walls showed no sign of stopping. He still seemed to be on the same level of trees he was on before. He grabbed a branch sticking out and flipped himself out of the trees, landing on the outside of the pile. He jogged, kept his feet moving on the rolling pile of logs. He sprinted, stumbling. If he tripped it could be the end of him. Chris scramble-sprinted along the trees, hoping to make his way closer to the ground.
Chris finally jumped onto the ground, but he could not stop. He sprinted, arms and legs pumping hard. Adrenaline and fear spread through him, giving him the energy he needed to get away from the logs. The faint throbbing in his injured leg was forgotten in this dash of survival. The crashing, cracking noise was loud behind him, giving him a reason to run hard. He ran, limber and powerful, the supple fabric of his pants flapping in the wind. His energy kept on going. It seemed boundless, unlike the tainted air in the dome. He sprinted past trees, past the little house of concrete he had stayed in, through the black air. Some of the darkness was coming from his scrapes, from the trees. It billowed away from him, the wind from his speed rippling the clouds of dark mist. He jumped over piles of rock, shrubs, everything else a blur of green and grey as he launched his body past. He barely noticed how hard he was breathing, adrenaline taking control of him. He waded through a bog, the murky water soaking the lower parts of his tracksuit pants. He splashed out, muddy water spraying everywhere. The tumbling of trees and every thing in the path of the wall was still going strong, with absolutely no hint of stopping. He weaved his way through small alleyways, the remains of the city. Half crumbled walls littered the alleys. He nearly tripped over a pile of stones, snapping him out of the adrenaline rush. He kept running, but with reduced vigour. The wall seemed to be gaining ground at every second. His legs suddenly felt weighed down by the water, and he staggered. He almost stopped. Almost. He turned and saw the rolling pile of logs, and everything else caught in the path of the wall, crashing into the first row of buildings. The adrenaline rush came back, flowing through him. He ran fast. The wind was in his hair, and he felt the rush of adrenaline as he jumped over a scraggly bush. Then the wall stopped. Just as quickly as it started it stopped. Chris fell to the ground, at a level of exhaustion close to death. He heaved in huge gasps of air, his chest bursting. Waves of tiredness washed over him, washing away the adrenaline. He lay down on the ground, barely noticing he had fallen asleep.
Chris drifted in and out of consciousness, tiredness gripping him tightly whenever he tried to think. He tried to find a safer spot, a hidden spot, a place where he could sleep in peace. But he could not move. Still tiredness came. Chris slept and slept, his body consuming the sleep, hungry for more. All the while he was out in the open, on the hard, gravelly dirt, his body motionless as he lay there. Finally he awoke properly, his eyes half open, his body aching, and in desperate need of a good stretch. He stood, swaying and groggy, not quite grasping
that h he was awake. He glanced around, his sleepy eyes barely taking in what he was seeing. Chris shook his head, wringing the sleepiness from his mind. His vision cleared and he saw the creature standing before him. A dirt covered girl, her black hair knotted and messy, pinned up on her head. She held a leather rucksack in one hand and a gleaming white sniper rifle slung over her back. Chris almost screamed in shock, a combination of seeing the girl in front of him, and the glinting sniper, fastened with a black strap across her thin body. He unsheathed his knife, and held it in a shaking hand. The girl stayed perfectly still, seemingly fearless of a weapon held towards her. When the Darkness Came can be purchased at amazon.com HE may have only just started high school, but Inverleigh 13year-old Gus Edwards already has a novella on the market.
Gus penned his debut novella When the Darkness Came in just one month while he was in his final year of primary school.
Published under his pen name Huon Edwards, the novel is set in a chaotic postapocalyptic world where protagonist Chris must fight for survival.
Gus wrote the book as part of an online writing challenge — the NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program.
He would work on his masterpiece after school, and sometimes even before classes started.
“At the start I found it challenging, but after a while it was easier,” Gus said.
The book is aimed at a teenage audience and available for purchase for e-readers, such as Kindles, from Amazon for just 70 cents.
Gus, a year seven student at Bannockburn P-12 College, has limited screen time at home. His mum, Bec, said last year he would only have an hour of weekly screen time including television, and maybe a family movie night.
But as he’s started high school the rules have become a bit more relaxed.
The budding author, who would love to see his book published in hard copy, has grown up in a family with a strong love of literature — his dad, Tom, is a librarian.
Gus hopes to become a professional author, and a new book in the near future could be a possibility.