I am writing a book and I will be posting it on this discussion.(I am so excited!) So the story behind my story is interesting. I just started typing a paragraph because i was going to show my dad something on the internet and i came up with the prologue that you are going to be reading. I had no intentions of it being a story, but here I am. This is my very first time doing this so I may not post the chapters very fast, but I will try my best. That's about all, so I hope you enjoy reading my book. Oh, and one more thing. I am not tyring to be or anything, but those of you who read this please do not take any parts or ideas from my book. Thanks and enjoy!
Joseph Koney: He is a real person and is really, really bad. I mean bad.
Cool, I'll definately read it. My Minecraft story is also going to be a series, sort of. Each book will have a different storyline.
I know better then to go digging up graves. *shutters*
well, a guys got to, what a guys got do. lol.
I got to finish chapter 15 now.
I waved my hand. “That’s all I need to see.” Although I had seen combat for many years, I had never gotten used to the idea of seeing dead people. I remembered the carnage of war all too well. It was not a pretty thing. I walked away. The other man instructed the others on what to do. We would have to transport the man back to the airport. From there a proper funeral could be arranged.
After securing the body in one of the helicopters we took off. It was clear to see that the Clayton and his friends were not here. They must have set off to try and make it to the airport on foot. We began sweeping the area for them, but they were nowhere to be found. After two hours we began heading back to the airport and abandoned the search.
“Indulu, get a radio ready for me. I’m going to give our…… little friends at the airport a call.”
Indulu began setting up a radio transmitter. He soon had it ready and motioned for me to sit down at the table it was on. I sat down and began turning the nob and soon found the airport frequency. I sent out a transmission to their radio.
Beep, beep. A red light flashed three times and then faded. The radio beeped again to signal that there was a transmission coming through. A radio man flipped a switch to let the message come through.
“This is Joseph Kony. I want to talk to Zafar.” The man gasped and then regained his composure. “Kone?” He quickly sent a transmission to Zafar. He still hadn’t returned from the rescue mission yet.
I steadily gazed out through the wind shield, but then shifted my gaze to the control board, because of the red blinking light that had caught my eye. I flipped a switch and a voice came through.
“Sir, this is the airport. We have a transmission coming through from somebody. They want to talk to you.
“Who is it?” I asked the radio man.
“Sir…it’s Joseph Kony.”