The Cleansing - SciFi novel

0:00
Audiobooks
96
1

Description

The audition for a SciFi novel I am orking on. This showcases some accents:
British
Welsh
Australian
American

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)

Accents

Australian British (General) North American (US General American - GenAM) Welsh

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The bronze vehicle was parked alongside a line of buildings, which looked a bishop to be old stone cottages. Opposite stood a similar row. He scanned the surrounding area, looking for somewhere to land. That road's a little narrow, he said. The road is ban is too wide, and their overhead wires might have to land in that field. Behind the cottages. Okay, came Diane's voice, sounding a little breathless. You're the boss, but I believe it, darling, Bishop chuckled. Adrenaline coursed through his body, making him feel vital and invulnerable. If he'd been human, he reckoned he'd have a ******* Onda thought, made him chuckle more. If there was one thing besides alcohol that Bishop envied the drones for, it was their sensuality. It looked kind of fun. He brought the helicopter in lower until he could see the friends of buildings staying horizontal so as not to stray near the cables that were strung across the road From the end cottage. He carefully swung the machine around to face the row of cottages and hovered watching. He didn't go any lower here. The road between the rows of cottages had probably been built in the days before the petrol engine had even been dreamed off. This was such an antiquated country, and there was no room for him to risk landing. Look for movement in one of the cottages, he told Diane. If you see any shoot, the hands voice came back in almost a squawk shoot. How am I supposed to shoot from up here? That's more window next to you. It slides open. A blast of icy air washed into the cabin when Diane slid the window open. Jiminy Cricket! She exclaimed. It's freezing! Concentrate on those. Their 3rd 1 from the left, the front doors opening. Bishop swung the seeking a little to the right, bringing it more side onto the cottages so that Diane could see them through the side window. The only problem, Wass his view was now obstructed. What's happening? He demanded. Someone's looking out at us. A man. Oh, had a woman shake them. I can't shoot your stupid woman. He held the helicopter steady, ready for the report of the pistol. It sounded shockingly loud in such a confined space, even with headphones on, and he jumped, making the helicopter jerk, Diane shrieked, Did you get them? No, I'm not sure. Oh, for ****'s sake. Bishop was almost shouting. Unbuckle and take the controls. Diane's mouse formed a perfect ring when she swung around to look at him. Are you crazy? I can't fly this thing. You only have to hold it steady. No, I can't, Huh? Bishop put all of his frustration into the yell. His left hand, which had moved to the buckle of his shoulder straps, went back to the controls. Fine. We'll have tto lend. Peter ran to the front door and swung it open. He knew that it wasn't exercising caution, but had realised the moment he heard the engine that they were undone. He hadn't counted on the pursuit coming by air. He felt carry rushed to his side. Peter, what you doing? She hissed as though she might be overheard. See you! He glanced at her. It might have been the snow glare spilling through the open doorway, but she looked pale as milk. They know where we are, he said. They've been following our tracks in the snow. Kerry's hand clasped over her mouth and her eyes widened. Peter leaned forward and squeezed her other hand. Be brave. I need to see what sort of chopper therein he paid out of the doorway. Kerry came and stood alongside him. A bright yellow helicopter was hovering about 20 yards in the air, directly in front of thumb. It was turned slightly away, and he could see an arm protruding from the open side window. Peter drew in a sharp breath. He hadn't expected it to be so close. They must have Bean too engrossed in their discussion to have heard it until it was upon them, or the snow had deaden the noise of its approach. Probably both two noises sounded almost the same time. A dull thunk has something thudded into the stonework above their heads, bringing down a light shower of snow and stone dust. A pope like the sound of a champagne cork being drawn in an adjoining room. Peter grabbed Carrie's arm back inside. He pulled the door, closed behind them and turned meeting a day's looking Tom coming towards them. Kerrie grabbed Tom about, turned him and gave him a shove in the back that sent him stumble. Walking back from where he'd come, he seemed to shake himself and turn to face them. The stunned expression replaced by one of fear. What's happening? He said. Is it them? Peter nodded, but they're in a certain rescue chopper. Kerry raised her eyebrows. I was in the Merchant Navy, he said, as if that explained everything. Um, said Tom. So it's not armed, said Peter. Though the people on board have guns, they shot at us. Kerry uttered a low moan and would have fallen if Tom hadn't flung out an arm to steady here. Peter felt a little relieved. At least Tom had come around enough to perhaps be of some use her. How many people ask Tom his voices and steady is Carrie's legs can't tell at least two. Why don't you speak to them? Said Tom. You know, inside your head too risky, said Peter. If I probed them, I leave myself open. They'll be able to see your plan. Tom blinked. We have a plan. His eyes widened. Do you have guns in the Range Rover? No guns, said Peter. Besides, I haven't fired one since 1945 but you have a plan, said Kerry. She seemed to have recovered a little poise and shrugged off Tom's hand after giving it a squeeze There's no much of a plan, said Peter. For a start, we can't stay here. They're simply land and walk in. We could barricade ourselves in, but we don't know what sort of fire power they have a lot more than the pumpkin they just used. I'll bet our only chance lies in outrunning them in the Range Rover. He can't out run a helicopter, said Tom. Actually, we probably are faster than a seeking, but not in this snow and we can't travel in straight lines like they can, said Peter. But they must have come from London in nothing and it's unlikely they'll be carrying spare fuel since it would be sort of self defeating. The more weight they carry, the worst, the fuel efficiency. We topped the Range Rover up less than 10 miles back, so it's well over 2/3 full so long as we avoid wide open spaces where it can fly alongside us and they can shoot us from the windows. If we stick to country lanes and trees and steer clear of main roads, we might be able to avoid them for long enough that they have to go in search of more fuel. There was a moment, pores, you're right, said Tom. It's not much of a plan. They could have friends nearby who they're radioing as we speak to tell him our position. They could land near a car and come after us by road. They could drop hand grenades on us. They could. They could do all that and more, said Peter. But unless either of you come up with something better, it's all we've got. And we need to get moving now. I can't hear the chopper. In a whirlwind of activity, they flung on their shoes and coats, Dusty bounding between them and trying to lick Tom and Carey. Peter extinguished the Para Finn lamps and replaced them in the bag, together with the camping stove and the silvery canister. He didn't bother switching off the gas heater ready, he said, and receive to answering nods. Tom, keep dusty close. No looking around. When we get outside, concentrate only on reaching the car and getting in. Peter strode to the front door. The bag clutched tightly and a one arm. He opened the door again and looked out. The sound of the helicopter was much fainter, coming from somewhere behind the cottage. It sounds like they're landing in the field at the back, he said. Come on, then let's do it. In single file, Tom running in 1/2 Crouch said he could keep a tight grip on dusty scruff. They hurried to the Range Rover.