I got around to this within a measely four days of it being posted. I'm
amazed.
First, you flooded with the earlier few chapters. I would seriously not
recommend this. Personnally, I almost always delete flooded posts out of
hand, but yours caught me when I was bored. Admitted, I may miss out on
some good stories when I do this, but I'll live.
You've got some serious grammatical problems. Even I notice them, and
ask my prereaders, that's bad. I'll pointout the ones that I notice.
Philosophers have often asked: what is death?
I'm pretty sure you meant this as a quote. if so, no colon, add comma
and quotation marks, capitalize What. if you didn't mean for this to be
a quote, I would strongly recomend changing it to one.
street, they were accompanied by a white-haired pony-tailed marionette in
Billy�s long shirt, and a dark-blue-haired one, growling and wrapping
McCabe�s Mexicali sleeping blanket around her shoulders.
no comma after shirt.
or lying sprawled back of the general store, stone drunk unconscious.
sprawled what? in back? in the back?
restaurant and saloon, Red Hat�s Barber Shop, Red Hat�s Emporium and Red
Hat�s marionette House of Prostitution like locusts.
comma after emporium
experiment renamed Richard M. Nixon by the locals, was under the general
store porch, and was also stone drunk.
nix last comma
His wet nose took a sniff: his eyes closed.
Semicolon instead of the colon
Spark shrugged. �It�s your money,�
Rule of the world.
He felt in his nightshirt pocket for his two-shot Derringer.
Something tells me that that wouldn't do much good on anyone in the
room.
They stun us and take us and clamp us down on tables, and stick cables into >to us and shoot 200,000 volts through it.
I'm a physics major, so I feel inclined to correct this. Volts don't go
anywhere. There could be a potential difference of 200,000 Volts across
her but the volts wouldn't do any moving. The Amps now, that would be
what kills people. Normally it doesn't matter, but something tells me
Belt would be speaking very literally correct.
take even more! And then they tear into us and smash us into little
pieces again. Over and over. Every damned minute, every damned day.�
Nice bit. Good emotion.
�Ohh brother -- !� said McCabe.
My sentiments exactly.
�You don�t feel like it? God damn -- !� McCabe looked at Billy, who
said, �And she don�t have to!�
Methinks this is two people speaking and as such should be two
paragraphs.
We�ll have trouble out-running them too, once they�re in range: they�ve got
shells that�ll zero in on us.�
semicolon
The barrels spit 200 bullets per second through the doors and windows for
.the next ten seconds.
Thats actually not that much. A Fifty caliber vulcan can shoot 8000 rpm.
As is, in ten seconds he only fires thirty bullets. Thirty bullets would
be hard pressed to preform that level of damage.
The Mark Five opened up again for another ten seconds, and another ten.
No comma
The left arm extruded something like a slim eleven-inch diameter cannon,
Thats immense. As I recall, most tanks have shells only have that, if
that.
�My saddle � !� shouted McCabe. �Get me my saddle! Move, boy!�
Either he has a really warped sense of priorities, or there is more to
the daddle then meets the eye. Also, since he put the saddle under the
table, wouldn't it have fallen into the basement with them?
With a scream, Billy charged and leapt, bad leg and all, over the junk
and rubble and ran into the sunlight where a bullet flew past his ear and
he jumped up and stuck the shotgun barrel in the cannon arm, and pulled
the trigger.
Big ole run on.
�Holy shit!� said Billy, peering up out of the hole. Then he remembered
himself and looked skyward and said, �Sorry, Lord.�
Excellent line.
Well, those are my comments. I liked it, and I'm looking forward to the
sequel. I just recomend you post that in chunks instead of bulk.