Okay my attempt at short story :
Requiem for Grumpy
Whole town was quiet. So quiet, a cricket song would seem like shots from a cannon, but unfortunately all crickets were extinct. It was night, but it was hard to recognize since radioactive gloom was shining around everywhere where the eye could see. One lone guard was standing at a stash where food and water was kept, what's left of it anyway. All reserves of the whole town at one place. Nobody knew his real name so he got a the nickname Grumpy, he never talked, all he did was grunting noises. Little did they know his tongue was cut off. The town is quiet - too quiet. Grumpy thought to himself. He was standing on one spot, guarding the stash for several hours. He liked his job, it was nice and quiet. The town was in middle of nowhere, so no bandits or mutants were seen in months. Everyone knew everyone in this small town, and Grumpy liked it that way. Since there hasn't been any danger in months, he didn't think that anybody would attack the town, so he went for a piss break. He wouldn't dare to do it in first weeks of his service, but now he really didn't care.
There were public toilets, but if you didn't want to get radiation sickness, or any sickness for that matter, you would do best if you stayed far away from them. He went for quick stroll into the desert, not too far from the town, but far enough so he could do what needed to be done in private. He unzipped his very old pants which had more holes then Swiss cheese and started doing his deed. Grumpy heard weird noises, but he assumed that it was just a shrubbery being blown by the wind. He felt a cold metallic thing on back of his head. *Click* *BANG*. Grumpy was too far away from the town. Nobody heard last sounds Grumpy heard before his death. Whole town was blazing before Sun could rise to its place in the sky. That is life on the Wasteland. People kill people for a drop of water. No morals, no laws. Survival of the fittest.
What do you think?
EDIT: Added continuation of the short story to show you how I handle dialogues.
"Another town bites the dust!" One of the bandits grinned with his toothless smile on leader of their little pack.
"We were mainly lucky that they weren't awake, I would hate to bury more of our comrades." Whimpered one of the bandits that was sweating and shaking.
"Shut up both of you!" Their leader shouted at them. He was one ugly bastard on first sight. He was missing his left eye and his whole body was covered in scars. "Stue, how much food and water did this town have?" The leader shouted at a bandit that was handling the stolen supplies.
Stue got his nickname because of his constant stuttering. "Th-th-the town wasn't t-t-too rich, bu-bu-but we are g-g-good for f-f-few days ch-ch-chief." Stue answered and was happy that he didn't have to talk anymore.
Leader of Bandits was relieved. He wouldn't admit it to any of his subjects but he didn't want things to end bloody. He was a kind soul, but to keep himself on top he needed to be cruel. If any of his minions would see just a tiny bit of doubt they would overthrow him. But to burn each town to crisp, without any survivors -- it was killing him from inside. There was no other way to do it. They needed the supplies to survive and the town needed them too. They couldn't hire any more people to their gang, they had enough thirsty and hungry throats as it is. It was either let them die slowly from starvation or quickly from a gunshot. He just hoped this nightmare will end soon. Even though he didn't believe it himself.
Post edited March 09, 2012 by Detlik