#5MinuteFiction is a five minute writing challenge
Week 2 of the 'Find a new Home for 5 Minute Fiction'
“So this is it?” Mary asked.
“Yeah,” Terrell said as sweat ran down the sides of his face. “This is the place.”
“Okay, so just to clarify,” Mary began, “just to make sure I understand what you are saying. You believe she is still in there? Alive?”
Terrell stood still as he took in the scene. It had been fifteen years since he’d seen this place. The house was old and overgrown with weeds. Kudzu had begun to crawl up its sides and had even reached the top of the chimney. Terrell knew it wouldn’t be long before the entire structure was enveloped in the thick vegetation. He realized just how crazy what he was about to say would sound. He took a deep breath and let it out.
“Yeah,” he said as he turned to look Mary in the eyes. “She’s still in there. And she’s still alive.”
Week 87
The clutter of bodies was beyond imagining. Most of them had, mere moments before, been living. People she had known all of her life. And now they were only so much debris cascading back into the pit, burying those unfortunate enough to be caught under the press.
Ramone fought as she had never fought before. All around her others were doing the same. Friend and foe alike now struggled for only one thing: survival.
Suddenly her mind went black for just a fleeting second and she saw stars in her vision. And then she could see again. A momentary blackout from being struck.
The feeling of pain began to ebb through her body and she realized that she had been struck by something, someone, who was very heavy. From the pain numb pain throbbing in the back of her neck, it was most likely a corpse from above.
Ramone struggled to move but she couldn’t. All around her the bodies kept falling and she could hear the sound of the dump truck engines from above as one after the other backed up to the pit and dumped its load. And then the sound of soft matter wrapped around hard matter sloughing, falling, and thwacking the same kinds of matter below. Bodies falling onto bodies.
And then, as if on cue, the sounds from above stopped. No more bodies were falling and the truck engines faded into the distance.
Ramone struggled again to move. This time she could feel some tingling in her arms and legs. She pushed with all of her strength in an attempt to move the massive dead man off of her before the burying began.
Eventually she was able to half roll, half slide the man off of her. Using all of her remaining strength, she raised her hand into the air and tried to hold it steady. It swayed. Her muscles ached and again her vision blurred. She tried for all she was worth to keep the limb raised. But in the end, she simply hadn’t the strength.
Just as her arm fell, just as her vision was fading to black, she heard it. A voice.
“Hey!” a man called. “We’ve got one over here! It’s alive!”
Week 85
“A missle has no conscience,” Lana read. “That sounds like one of those titles that didn’t really survive translation.”
Jeremy smiled without taking his eyes off the road ahead. Spring was just around the corner but winter wasn’t through with them just yet. The overcast sky painted everything in shades of gray as trees and hillsides slid past the Land Rover on either side of the narrow, two lane road.
“And what would the original title have been?”
“Something like, ‘The Giggalo’ or ‘The Swinger’ I imagine,” she replied.
“Ha!” Jeremy barked as he laughed. “You would go there of course.”
“Of course,” Lana said. “And why wouldn’t I?”
Jeremy glanced at her for a split second. Her smile was energetic and the gray background outside the window accented her smooth skin and her dark, red hair.
Lana’s head jerked to the front and her face wrenched in horror.
“Jeremy!” she screamed…
Week 84
“Look at all of those flowers,” Jason said in a loud whisper. “Those are lilies!”
“How do you know?” Michael asked.
“My mom told me about them.”
“Big deal,” Ryan said, “just because she has flowers growing in her yard doesn’t mean she’s a witch.”
“But I heard that witches bury the remains of children under lilies. That’s why they have so many!”
“Do they really?” Michael asked, his eyes growing larger by the minute.
“That is just an old wives tale,” Ryan said.
“No it’s not!” Jason objected. “You can see the blood from the bodies because it seeps up through the roots of the flower and makes those little speckles on the top.”
“That’s stupid,” Ryan said.
“No it’s not!” Michael insisted. “I tell you I heard it from—“
“That is not stupid,” a female voice suddenly said. All three boys froze in terror as the face of Ms. Jones peered at them over the fence. “But actually, witches first burn the bodies and then spread the ashes in the flower garden. Much better way to hide the evidence.” She glanced over her shoulder as she spoke.
All three boys followed her gaze and saw that she had fire burning in an old, metal drum in her back yard.
“Would you boys like some lemonade,” she asked.
That was the last time they tried to spy on Mrs. Jones.
Week 83
“Grab me a beer, will you?” her brother said.
“Sure,” Diane said as she checked her shotgun for the umpteenth time to make sure it was loaded. “Honk the horn if you see anything.”
“Duh,” Bobby replied.
Diane made her way into the convenience store. The windows hadn’t been smashed on this one yet which meant it could actually still have beer or food. Ever since the outbreak there had been rioting in the cities but out in the boondocks things had moved much slower.
She cautiously opened the front door listening for movement. Hearing nothing she entered, shotgun first and looked around.
There was no lighting, electricity was one of the first things to fail, but the shelves were still undisturbed. This could mean two things.
First, either the owner or employees had all just run away and no one was minding the store. Second, someone was still here but just in a dormant state.
As she made her way to the back of the store where the coolers were located, she heard movement behind her. It was a distinctive shuffling sound. Without even taking time to think about it she whipped around, shotgun at waist level, and fired.
The zombie didn’t stand a chance. His face exploded sending blood and grey matter down the chip aisle all the way to the front of the store.
Diane froze and listened. No more sound.
She turned back to the coolers.
“Bud or Bud Lite,” she asked herself.
Week 82
The scene was chaos and it was being broadcast live.
“Sir!” the reporter yelled, “Sir! If you don’t mind could you provide some clarity?”
The crowd was turning into a mob. The press conference was a mere five minutes in when a single word turned the world upside down.
“Sir? Did you mean to use the word , ‘contagion’?” the reporter yelled as he held out his digital recorder.
“People!” the White House Press Secretary called out over the crowd. “You need to calm down!”
“When the White House said that Atlanta had been ‘contained’, what exactly did you mean?” another reporter asked just as she was shoved from behind.
People were rushing in all directions. Some were trying to get closer to the podium, trying to do their jobs. Others were running, pushing, and shoving for the doors. Many were on their cell phones.
“Honey,” one man said, “just listen. Don’t pack anything, just grab the kids and go. Get into the mini-van and head north.”
“Is it true,” another reporter began, “that the outbreak started less then five hours ago?”
“Atlanta has been contained by the Unites States Army and the President will address the nation—“
The screen went blank.
Week 81
It was a new year. A new Terran year that is. On Antilles Beta Prime the new year was a long ways off.
Kronton stopped weeding the row he was on and stood up. He rested his hands on the hoe handle as sweat ran down his sides and back. The low light of the afternoon cast an eerie pall to the landscape giving everything a slight reddish tint. On the horizon he could see gibbous Antilles Alpha Prime with her majestic rings filling a full third of the sky.
Kronton thought back to the last New Year’s Eve he had experienced on Earth. He could hear the sounds of noise makers and feel the sharp, grabbing edges of plastic confetti as it stuck to his cheeks and his neck, almost cutting when he turned his head. He could even smell the bouquet of the champagne.
But that was a long time ago. Enhanced biology had allowed him to travel the light years in statsis and it allowed him even now to live a life far longer than the average human. All in the name of preserving Humanity.
He could smell the rot of the decaying cities of Earth even now in sharp contrast to the warm, fertile soil under his feet.
With a sigh he thought, “Happy New Year, Humanity. Happy New Year.”
Kronton took up his hoe and returned to weeding the row of vegetables.
Week 80
‘He was tall, dark, and handsome and incredibly ugly. All at the same time.’
“Yeah, that’s all I got,” Jon said.
“What do you mean that’s all you got?” Sarah asked.
“I mean that’s all I got. I can’t really think of anything more to write.”
“Well you just blew like seven minutes of writing time on that ‘Tallarnan Mind Shield’ idea so you better come up with something and fast.”
“Ugh,” he moaned. “Okay. How about this?”
Week 79
School had hardly been back in a full week and he couldn’t seem to think about anything else most of the time.
First grade. The playground. The time he kicked a home-run with bases loaded in kickball. Mrs. Laramie’s class and how she always smelled funny. The heaters in the classroom, the old kind that were big and metal with a hundred coats of glossy paint and they had to fill with water. Opening the windows during the winter when an unexpectedly warm day happened because the hot water couldn’t be drained fast enough.
The first time he was allowed to stay up late enough to watch all of ‘Gone with the Wind’. Seeing his father cry while watching the final episode of M.A.S.H. Crying when his father died.
Heidi, the first dog he ever knew. The time she ran ahead and attacked that copperhead that was on the trail.
Christmas at the mall. The first time he ever saw Santa Claus in real life.
All of these memories and more passed through his mind as he steeled his nerve. Lilly Khols was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. It was all so strange and he didn’t really try to understand it. But this was something big.
As his entire life (that he could recall in just a minute or so) passed before his eyes, Stanley Weeber reached out and yank Lilly’s pigtail and boy did he yank it but good.
This just might be love, he thought.
Week 47
“I know it’s not mine but I want it anyway,” she said.
“Janet, you need to learn that you can’t have everything you want, dear,” her mother replied.
“But why?” Janet asked, “why must I learn that?”
“it’s called ‘manners’ young lady.” Merriam replied. “ Just like when you say, ‘Yes Ma’am’ and ‘No Ma’am’ to someone who is older than you.”
Janet scowled and glanced at her mother. She is weak, she thought. “I think that is stupid.”
“Listen here,” her mother said in a voice that was louder than she intended. She quickly glanced around the park to see if anyone had overheard. “You will not use that word. It is rude and crude and a not the sort of word a young girl who is only eight years old should be saying.”
Merriam glanced around with a scowl on her face. “You stay right here and don’t move. I’m just going to see if that news stand still has a copy of today’s paper.” She stood up and walked over to the news stand.
Janet looked to make sure her mother was not watching. She then dashed over to the young girl playing happily with her doll. Janet looked the little girl in the face and said, “If you’re smart, you’ll give that doll to me, right now.”
Her voice had a chilling effect on the little girl. She simply sat there unmoving, afraid. Janet reached out and snatched the doll from the little girl and turned to walk back to where she had been sitting. Then she paused, just for a second, and, looking over her shoulder, she said, “Thank you.”
“Janet, you need to learn that you can’t have everything you want, dear,” her mother replied.
“But why?” Janet asked, “why must I learn that?”
“it’s called ‘manners’ young lady.” Merriam replied. “ Just like when you say, ‘Yes Ma’am’ and ‘No Ma’am’ to someone who is older than you.”
Janet scowled and glanced at her mother. She is weak, she thought. “I think that is stupid.”
“Listen here,” her mother said in a voice that was louder than she intended. She quickly glanced around the park to see if anyone had overheard. “You will not use that word. It is rude and crude and a not the sort of word a young girl who is only eight years old should be saying.”
Merriam glanced around with a scowl on her face. “You stay right here and don’t move. I’m just going to see if that news stand still has a copy of today’s paper.” She stood up and walked over to the news stand.
Janet looked to make sure her mother was not watching. She then dashed over to the young girl playing happily with her doll. Janet looked the little girl in the face and said, “If you’re smart, you’ll give that doll to me, right now.”
Her voice had a chilling effect on the little girl. She simply sat there unmoving, afraid. Janet reached out and snatched the doll from the little girl and turned to walk back to where she had been sitting. Then she paused, just for a second, and, looking over her shoulder, she said, “Thank you.”
Week 48
Blue.
How could that have happened, she thought. And then the realization set in.
Candon Rouge was no longer an employee of Dunetech Industries. She looked up from the wrist band she was wearing to see if anyone around he had noticed. All around she saw gold wrist bands. Except hers. Hers was now blue. Blue meant she was a prolie. Someone who lived off the state with no commercial insurance.
Shit, I’m already going paranoid. The rail-port lobby was crowded with people trying to get out of the city and home from work. Candace had to think fast if she was going to make it home. Her reduced insurance status would immediately disqualify her from using standard transportation.
Her earpiece started sounding and her communications pad began to vibrate. She did a quick glance, knowing what she would find, to see that cancellation emails were arriving from various entities. Her gym membership was put on a warning status, her utilities rates would rise (if she was even able to remain in the tiny apartment she now rented), and she didn’t know how she would get home.
How could that have happened, she thought. And then the realization set in.
Candon Rouge was no longer an employee of Dunetech Industries. She looked up from the wrist band she was wearing to see if anyone around he had noticed. All around she saw gold wrist bands. Except hers. Hers was now blue. Blue meant she was a prolie. Someone who lived off the state with no commercial insurance.
Shit, I’m already going paranoid. The rail-port lobby was crowded with people trying to get out of the city and home from work. Candace had to think fast if she was going to make it home. Her reduced insurance status would immediately disqualify her from using standard transportation.
Her earpiece started sounding and her communications pad began to vibrate. She did a quick glance, knowing what she would find, to see that cancellation emails were arriving from various entities. Her gym membership was put on a warning status, her utilities rates would rise (if she was even able to remain in the tiny apartment she now rented), and she didn’t know how she would get home.
Week 49
"So what you are saying is that you believe our existence is some kind of anomaly, some kind of quirk of nature so to speak?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “In the tiniest of nutshells, that is precisely what I am saying.”
Fiona’s eyebrows rose as she cupped her hands around the steaming cup of tea. “And it is time that is the cause of this…, this… ‘incident’?”
“Well, no,” Jonathan replied. “It is not time itself that is causing this quirk. Rather time itself, as we sense it on a daily basis, is caused by this, uh, incident.” His hands were damp with perspiration and he wiped them on the thighs of his trousers as he continued. “You see, time is has no direction. It merely is. And what we call our reality is an anomalous quirk that has caused time to become focused. It’s as if there were some kind of gravity lens drifting through a universe in which time is un-ordered and just by chance, just by a may-haps arrangement, it has caused time to become focused. But it is only for a brief period of time.”
Fiona stared at the young man. “And by a ‘brief period of time’ you mean…” she quiried.
“Several billions of years,” Johnathan responded.
“I see,” Fiona replied.
“Yes,” he replied. “In the tiniest of nutshells, that is precisely what I am saying.”
Fiona’s eyebrows rose as she cupped her hands around the steaming cup of tea. “And it is time that is the cause of this…, this… ‘incident’?”
“Well, no,” Jonathan replied. “It is not time itself that is causing this quirk. Rather time itself, as we sense it on a daily basis, is caused by this, uh, incident.” His hands were damp with perspiration and he wiped them on the thighs of his trousers as he continued. “You see, time is has no direction. It merely is. And what we call our reality is an anomalous quirk that has caused time to become focused. It’s as if there were some kind of gravity lens drifting through a universe in which time is un-ordered and just by chance, just by a may-haps arrangement, it has caused time to become focused. But it is only for a brief period of time.”
Fiona stared at the young man. “And by a ‘brief period of time’ you mean…” she quiried.
“Several billions of years,” Johnathan responded.
“I see,” Fiona replied.
Week 50
Slowly, rhythmically, she breathed. Her mind, she allowed to flow without directed thought. Her body swayed forward, then back, then to the side. Her shoulders turned and her arms seemed to float of their own accord. All in response to what she sensed.
Snap.
What was that?! she thought. Her eyes opened, her body tensed alert, her head jerked around towards the corner of the garden from which the sound seemed to come. Nothing.
“Dammit,” she said quietly to herself. If something that simple was going to break her concentration then she was hopeless, she thought. But still, she thought. Something tickled at here awareness. Something suggesting… “You’re just imagining things now,” she muttered.
Looking down she could see the patterns she had raked into the sand. Circles and swirls and straight lines. Sometimes she tried to think back to when she actually made the different shapes and she was amazed to discover that she couldn’t quite remember at what point in her exercise she made any specific pattern. That always made her smile.
Rachel took a deep breath and tried to relax, allowing her thoughts to drift, to wander in any… the smell of leather. Polished leather was in her mind. She could sense heat from the morning sun as it rose off the saddle…
“Good morning Master Ton,” she said.
“Ha,” the old man said. “Had I been an assassin, I would not have announced myself so obviously.” Master Ton took a few steps towards the center of the garden. “You must learn to attend to yourself without losing balance,” he scolded.
“Yes Master,” she replied.
Master Ton looked toward the garden corner where Rachel thought she had heard a sound earlier and snapped his fingers.
“Damn,” he said. “It seems we lost our signal. Again.” He looked around the van at the others. “Sometimes I think there is something really strange going on behind those walls.”
Snap.
What was that?! she thought. Her eyes opened, her body tensed alert, her head jerked around towards the corner of the garden from which the sound seemed to come. Nothing.
“Dammit,” she said quietly to herself. If something that simple was going to break her concentration then she was hopeless, she thought. But still, she thought. Something tickled at here awareness. Something suggesting… “You’re just imagining things now,” she muttered.
Looking down she could see the patterns she had raked into the sand. Circles and swirls and straight lines. Sometimes she tried to think back to when she actually made the different shapes and she was amazed to discover that she couldn’t quite remember at what point in her exercise she made any specific pattern. That always made her smile.
Rachel took a deep breath and tried to relax, allowing her thoughts to drift, to wander in any… the smell of leather. Polished leather was in her mind. She could sense heat from the morning sun as it rose off the saddle…
“Good morning Master Ton,” she said.
“Ha,” the old man said. “Had I been an assassin, I would not have announced myself so obviously.” Master Ton took a few steps towards the center of the garden. “You must learn to attend to yourself without losing balance,” he scolded.
“Yes Master,” she replied.
Master Ton looked toward the garden corner where Rachel thought she had heard a sound earlier and snapped his fingers.
“Damn,” he said. “It seems we lost our signal. Again.” He looked around the van at the others. “Sometimes I think there is something really strange going on behind those walls.”
Week 51
“Sir,” she began, “I don’t think that you appreciate the gravity of the situation.”
The surgeon’s head turned slightly to the side, his eyebrows rising as he looked intently at Shelly. “And just what weighty aspect of this situation is it that you think I do not appreciate, hmmm?”
Shelly’s eyes widened, taken a-back, her head turned slightly one way and then the other, her mouth obviously working as could be seen by the movement of the surgical mask. “I…, I…, Well I…” she stuttered.
“You obviously appreciate something of profound seriousness that I do not so please enlighten me,” the surgeon said as he stood up straight, his head leaning forward so that he was now looking down on Shelly.
“Well, Sir,” she began, “if the…, the…, the beings are creations of his mind and nothing more then I guess there isn’t so much going on here.” She paused, her eyes never breaking contact with the Surgeon’s own. “But if,…”
“If what young lady.”
“But what if these creations, these creatures, are in fact not a creation of his mind but instead a contact. An interaction with his mind. Will we be destroying a means of contact? Perhaps a first contact?
The surgeon looked at Shelly, his eyes showing that some activity was taking place. He glanced away for just a moment. When he looked back, he merely pointed at the shaved skull of the subject and said, “Drill.”
The surgeon’s head turned slightly to the side, his eyebrows rising as he looked intently at Shelly. “And just what weighty aspect of this situation is it that you think I do not appreciate, hmmm?”
Shelly’s eyes widened, taken a-back, her head turned slightly one way and then the other, her mouth obviously working as could be seen by the movement of the surgical mask. “I…, I…, Well I…” she stuttered.
“You obviously appreciate something of profound seriousness that I do not so please enlighten me,” the surgeon said as he stood up straight, his head leaning forward so that he was now looking down on Shelly.
“Well, Sir,” she began, “if the…, the…, the beings are creations of his mind and nothing more then I guess there isn’t so much going on here.” She paused, her eyes never breaking contact with the Surgeon’s own. “But if,…”
“If what young lady.”
“But what if these creations, these creatures, are in fact not a creation of his mind but instead a contact. An interaction with his mind. Will we be destroying a means of contact? Perhaps a first contact?
The surgeon looked at Shelly, his eyes showing that some activity was taking place. He glanced away for just a moment. When he looked back, he merely pointed at the shaved skull of the subject and said, “Drill.”
Week 52
Another year of that and she was sure she’d go mad. It was insane. The same old routine day in and day out. Morning prayers. Work. Mid-morning prayers. Work. Prayers before lunch. Lunch. Prayers after lunch. Work, and on and on and on and on. There is no way I can stand another year of this, she thought.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo,” the guard called out. Barked.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo, present, Sir!” she responded.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo, you are charged with a crime against the state and against God. How do you plead today?” the guard barked in a ritualistic cant.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo pleads ‘guilty’, Sir!” she responded automatically.
“Only those who seek forgiveness before the endless love of Our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ, may ever have a chance at Salvation or a return to citizenship,” the guard intoned. “On your knees.”
She dropped to her knees on the cold concrete along with all of the other sinners, the sound a smacking crunch in the cavernous prayer hall.
“All pray,” the guard bellowed.
And in unison, all thirty seven hundred of them began.
“Our Father, who art in heaven,…”
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo,” the guard called out. Barked.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo, present, Sir!” she responded.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo, you are charged with a crime against the state and against God. How do you plead today?” the guard barked in a ritualistic cant.
“Number one four seven niner alpha alpha echo pleads ‘guilty’, Sir!” she responded automatically.
“Only those who seek forgiveness before the endless love of Our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ, may ever have a chance at Salvation or a return to citizenship,” the guard intoned. “On your knees.”
She dropped to her knees on the cold concrete along with all of the other sinners, the sound a smacking crunch in the cavernous prayer hall.
“All pray,” the guard bellowed.
And in unison, all thirty seven hundred of them began.
“Our Father, who art in heaven,…”
Week 53
On the porch there were pomegranate seeds and paint thinner, and upstairs there was a girl.Jimmy didn’t really know much about the girl except that she was one of the Doctor’s “friends”. The Doctor always gave a little smile whenever he said that word.
“Yes, she is a very special friend so I will have to cut our daily porch time a little short,” the Doctor said. “That won’t be a problem will it, Jimmy?”
Every once in a while there was a sound from inside the house. To Jimmy it sounded like it was coming from upstairs. And it was a familiar sound, but he couldn’t quite place it. Muffled. Bumping. A voice sound?
“No,” he said, “I don’t think so.” Jimmy’s eyes and face scrunched up against the bright afternoon sunlight. “I have other important things to do today.”
“Oh ho!” said the Doctor, “Is that so?”
“Uh huh,” Jimmy said as he looked down at the wooden train engine and caboose care he held in his hands.
“Well then,” the Doctor began with a chuckle, “I shan’t keep you from your important duties! I too have some important things to attend to.”
By the way the doctor smirked when he said ‘important’ Jimmy knew that it had something to do with the ‘friend’ upstairs.
“Ok,” Jimmy began, “I’ll see you tomorrow then-“
The sound again. Bump. Muffled bump. All of a sudden Jimmy knew exactly what it sounded like. But why would that be coming from upstairs at the Doctor’s house. Ah! Jimmy thought, they must be playing a game.
“Yes,” Jimmy smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” As Jimmy was walking away he thought to himself, that sounded just like my sister when she wrapped herself in a rug that time we were playing hide and seek. She was stuck there for hours before anyone found her! How odd, he thought, that the Doctor should be playing such a game.
“Yes, she is a very special friend so I will have to cut our daily porch time a little short,” the Doctor said. “That won’t be a problem will it, Jimmy?”
Every once in a while there was a sound from inside the house. To Jimmy it sounded like it was coming from upstairs. And it was a familiar sound, but he couldn’t quite place it. Muffled. Bumping. A voice sound?
“No,” he said, “I don’t think so.” Jimmy’s eyes and face scrunched up against the bright afternoon sunlight. “I have other important things to do today.”
“Oh ho!” said the Doctor, “Is that so?”
“Uh huh,” Jimmy said as he looked down at the wooden train engine and caboose care he held in his hands.
“Well then,” the Doctor began with a chuckle, “I shan’t keep you from your important duties! I too have some important things to attend to.”
By the way the doctor smirked when he said ‘important’ Jimmy knew that it had something to do with the ‘friend’ upstairs.
“Ok,” Jimmy began, “I’ll see you tomorrow then-“
The sound again. Bump. Muffled bump. All of a sudden Jimmy knew exactly what it sounded like. But why would that be coming from upstairs at the Doctor’s house. Ah! Jimmy thought, they must be playing a game.
“Yes,” Jimmy smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” As Jimmy was walking away he thought to himself, that sounded just like my sister when she wrapped herself in a rug that time we were playing hide and seek. She was stuck there for hours before anyone found her! How odd, he thought, that the Doctor should be playing such a game.
Week 55
High school. Like a bad dream repeating itself. This time she was running. She knew she had to stop him before it was too late. This was the third time Sarah Hentice had been in the same hallway, on the same morning, at the same time. All in one day! Today. The first time of course, she had no clue what was happening, or that is to say, what was going to happen. The second time, it was all a daze.
Sarah had closed her locker, having retrieve her chemistry text book. She really wasn’t looking forward to chemistry. Pop quiz every day followed by a boring lecture. She knew she could get interested in the subject but not with such a boring teacher. She had walked, almost shuffled, down the hallway along with a couple hundred other kids, just doing the drill. Once the bell had rung and everyone was seated, Mr. Smith had taken the roll.
That’s when it happened.
That creepy new kid had then stood up, ran towards the teacher’s desk shouting all the while. Sarah still couldn’t make out what he was saying, even now, having been through it twice already. And then he’d raised his hand and, BANG. Blood spurted back onto the black board behind Mr. Smith’s head. The class erupting in chaos as screams immediately filled the air. And the creepy kid turned, looked straight at Sarah, and raised his hand.
That was all she could remember. From the first time. The second time, even though she knew what was going to happen, she couldn’t get her mind around that fact that it actually was happening. Not just some kind of nightmare or flashback. That second time, as the creepy kid raised his hand and she made eye contact with him, she knew. She knew it was real, she knew she was here AGAIN, and she knew he knew. She could tell by the way he kind of did a crazy smile grin and started saying something. Something she still couldn’t make out.
This time it would be different. Sarah slammed her locker door shut and immediately started down the hallway. Running. Running for all she was worth. This time it would be different.
Sarah had closed her locker, having retrieve her chemistry text book. She really wasn’t looking forward to chemistry. Pop quiz every day followed by a boring lecture. She knew she could get interested in the subject but not with such a boring teacher. She had walked, almost shuffled, down the hallway along with a couple hundred other kids, just doing the drill. Once the bell had rung and everyone was seated, Mr. Smith had taken the roll.
That’s when it happened.
That creepy new kid had then stood up, ran towards the teacher’s desk shouting all the while. Sarah still couldn’t make out what he was saying, even now, having been through it twice already. And then he’d raised his hand and, BANG. Blood spurted back onto the black board behind Mr. Smith’s head. The class erupting in chaos as screams immediately filled the air. And the creepy kid turned, looked straight at Sarah, and raised his hand.
That was all she could remember. From the first time. The second time, even though she knew what was going to happen, she couldn’t get her mind around that fact that it actually was happening. Not just some kind of nightmare or flashback. That second time, as the creepy kid raised his hand and she made eye contact with him, she knew. She knew it was real, she knew she was here AGAIN, and she knew he knew. She could tell by the way he kind of did a crazy smile grin and started saying something. Something she still couldn’t make out.
This time it would be different. Sarah slammed her locker door shut and immediately started down the hallway. Running. Running for all she was worth. This time it would be different.
Week 56
An acute sensitivity to fluctuations in weak energy fields. That was the diagnosis. Kelly Tarmback didn’t even know what that meant! Why would anyone be sensitive to weak energy fields? Heck, what are ‘weak energy fields’? Isn’t that some kind of physics thing? And she was pretty sure she wasn’t really very keen on physics.
The dishes in the sink bore the brunt of her frustrations as she slopped more of the soapy water on the pot she was scrubbing. The cooks had allowed the chili to burn on the bottom and it was left to Kelly to take care of it. It wasn’t the job so much itself that she hated. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, not in the least! It was the fact that she was limited by her condition to very menial jobs. It was depressing. And the doctor’s diagnosis didn’t help things. He said there simply was nothing he could do about it other than lots of medication. And then where would she be? If she was out of it all the time on some powerful medication then she would be even more unfit to function in a real job!
“Are you finished with that one yet?” the blue gnome asked, indicating with a slight tilt of his head the pot she was furiously attacking.
“Almost,” she replied without a thought.
The blue gnome seemed to sigh and look about as he idly swung his feet over the edge of the sink.
After all, Kelly thought, she couldn’t face customers if she was always having conversations with people who weren’t there. If you could call a blue gnome a ‘people’.
The dishes in the sink bore the brunt of her frustrations as she slopped more of the soapy water on the pot she was scrubbing. The cooks had allowed the chili to burn on the bottom and it was left to Kelly to take care of it. It wasn’t the job so much itself that she hated. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, not in the least! It was the fact that she was limited by her condition to very menial jobs. It was depressing. And the doctor’s diagnosis didn’t help things. He said there simply was nothing he could do about it other than lots of medication. And then where would she be? If she was out of it all the time on some powerful medication then she would be even more unfit to function in a real job!
“Are you finished with that one yet?” the blue gnome asked, indicating with a slight tilt of his head the pot she was furiously attacking.
“Almost,” she replied without a thought.
The blue gnome seemed to sigh and look about as he idly swung his feet over the edge of the sink.
After all, Kelly thought, she couldn’t face customers if she was always having conversations with people who weren’t there. If you could call a blue gnome a ‘people’.
Week 57
“Duck?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s what she said. ‘Duck’,” he responded.
Jim Landriss looked across the city’s skyline as it lit up. He sighed heavily as he stood up, shook on his environment suit and began sealing it up.
“Well don’t just sit there, you moron. Get movin’,” he said.
Burton Cal rolled off the couch and began suiting up himself.
“So do you know what a ‘duck’ is?” he asked.
“Nope,” Jimmy replied.
“Then how we gonna’ find one then?”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout that,” Jimmy said, focusing one eye in particular on Burton. “We’ll find one, whatever it is, and whatever it takes.”
As the two men were preparing to leave the building and hit the streets of New Mars-Delhi, a little girl ran into the room.
“And a piggy to!” she said, as she stopped to look up at the two men.
Jim and Burton exchanged glances and then Jim said, “Alright then, little Missy. We’ll get you a piggy to.”
As the two men entered the airlock and it began to cycle, Burton said, “So do you know…”
“No,” Jim said, cutting him off. “I don’t.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. ‘Duck’,” he responded.
Jim Landriss looked across the city’s skyline as it lit up. He sighed heavily as he stood up, shook on his environment suit and began sealing it up.
“Well don’t just sit there, you moron. Get movin’,” he said.
Burton Cal rolled off the couch and began suiting up himself.
“So do you know what a ‘duck’ is?” he asked.
“Nope,” Jimmy replied.
“Then how we gonna’ find one then?”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout that,” Jimmy said, focusing one eye in particular on Burton. “We’ll find one, whatever it is, and whatever it takes.”
As the two men were preparing to leave the building and hit the streets of New Mars-Delhi, a little girl ran into the room.
“And a piggy to!” she said, as she stopped to look up at the two men.
Jim and Burton exchanged glances and then Jim said, “Alright then, little Missy. We’ll get you a piggy to.”
As the two men entered the airlock and it began to cycle, Burton said, “So do you know…”
“No,” Jim said, cutting him off. “I don’t.”
Week 58
“You sure you want to do that, chief?” the deputy asked.
Juan Corrinda paused in what he was doing and looked at his deputy, his eyes drilling deep into the young man’s as he considered the statement.
“You got something on your mind Mathews?”
Todd Mathews, containment specialist for the highly select team they were on didn’t flinch from the sheriff’s eyes.
“You know we haven’t received the all clear on that,” he replied. “Contamination could result in tens of thousands of incidents.”
Section Chief Corrinda looked at the security locker as sweat ran down the side of his face.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “you’re right.” He turned to face Mathews. “I guess it’s a good thing you were here.”
Mathews squeezed gently on the trigger and the silenced pistol chirped. Juan Corrinda slumped against the security locker without another sound.
“Yeah,” Mathews said under his breath, “good thing.”
Juan Corrinda paused in what he was doing and looked at his deputy, his eyes drilling deep into the young man’s as he considered the statement.
“You got something on your mind Mathews?”
Todd Mathews, containment specialist for the highly select team they were on didn’t flinch from the sheriff’s eyes.
“You know we haven’t received the all clear on that,” he replied. “Contamination could result in tens of thousands of incidents.”
Section Chief Corrinda looked at the security locker as sweat ran down the side of his face.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “you’re right.” He turned to face Mathews. “I guess it’s a good thing you were here.”
Mathews squeezed gently on the trigger and the silenced pistol chirped. Juan Corrinda slumped against the security locker without another sound.
“Yeah,” Mathews said under his breath, “good thing.”
Week 60
“How much?!”
“One point five million dollars,” the repairman said.
John rolled his eyes and mouthed the word ouch in response but reached for his wallet all the same.
“Man that hurts the ol’ back side,” he said has he searched through credit cards.
“I’m just a technician Mr. Peters, I don’t make the rules or the pr-“
“I know, I know,” John interrupted, “I’m just saying it costs a lot, that’s all. But hey,” he smiled and held his hands apart in a questioning gesture, “when it comes to our kids we just don’t have limits, right? Am I right?”
“Yeah Mr. Petersen,” the tech said, “I guess you’re right.” He smiled and relaxed a bit as he accepted the card John then presented to him.
As the technician authenticated the payment, John glanced over at his daughter as she played with Ollie who was her best friend. Ollie was an automaton in the shape of a baby bear. His personality profile had crashed earlier in the morning and rather than a simple back up, John had insisted on a full reinstatement. This required and actual visit by a technician which of course meant it would be more expensive.
“One point five million dollars,” the repairman said.
John rolled his eyes and mouthed the word ouch in response but reached for his wallet all the same.
“Man that hurts the ol’ back side,” he said has he searched through credit cards.
“I’m just a technician Mr. Peters, I don’t make the rules or the pr-“
“I know, I know,” John interrupted, “I’m just saying it costs a lot, that’s all. But hey,” he smiled and held his hands apart in a questioning gesture, “when it comes to our kids we just don’t have limits, right? Am I right?”
“Yeah Mr. Petersen,” the tech said, “I guess you’re right.” He smiled and relaxed a bit as he accepted the card John then presented to him.
As the technician authenticated the payment, John glanced over at his daughter as she played with Ollie who was her best friend. Ollie was an automaton in the shape of a baby bear. His personality profile had crashed earlier in the morning and rather than a simple back up, John had insisted on a full reinstatement. This required and actual visit by a technician which of course meant it would be more expensive.
Week 61
Ben stared at the screen, horrified.
“But Mr. Andrews,” the doctor said, “I want you to know – “. One of the other men in the room, this one in a military uniform coughed loudly. The doctor made eye contact with the uniformed man and began again. “That is to say Mr. Andrews, we want you to know that your sacrifice is greatly appreciated by all of humanity.”
Ben was oblivious to the conversation going on around him. It was insane. It must be some kind of nightmare because what he was seeing and what these people were saying simply made no sense what so ever. He tried to raise his hands to his head to see if his head felt normal. He couldn’t raise his arms! Looking down he realized that they had been strapped to the gurney.
The man in the military uniform stepped closer to the hospital bed.
“To be chosen as an uh,… as an ambassadorial client is I’m sure a great honor, Mr. Andrews. I’m sure your children and grand children will be very proud of you.”
Those standing around him blanched, a pained expression on their faces.
“I don’t have any children,” Ben said to no one in particular.
“Gentlemen,” a younger man in a suit said by way of announcement, “We believe the E.T. manifestation is imminent.”
With that said, all eyes turned back to the cathode tube display where a real time magnetic image of Ben’s head was pictured. The mass inside was visibly moving and growing.
Ben could do nothing but stare at the screen, horrified.
“But Mr. Andrews,” the doctor said, “I want you to know – “. One of the other men in the room, this one in a military uniform coughed loudly. The doctor made eye contact with the uniformed man and began again. “That is to say Mr. Andrews, we want you to know that your sacrifice is greatly appreciated by all of humanity.”
Ben was oblivious to the conversation going on around him. It was insane. It must be some kind of nightmare because what he was seeing and what these people were saying simply made no sense what so ever. He tried to raise his hands to his head to see if his head felt normal. He couldn’t raise his arms! Looking down he realized that they had been strapped to the gurney.
The man in the military uniform stepped closer to the hospital bed.
“To be chosen as an uh,… as an ambassadorial client is I’m sure a great honor, Mr. Andrews. I’m sure your children and grand children will be very proud of you.”
Those standing around him blanched, a pained expression on their faces.
“I don’t have any children,” Ben said to no one in particular.
“Gentlemen,” a younger man in a suit said by way of announcement, “We believe the E.T. manifestation is imminent.”
With that said, all eyes turned back to the cathode tube display where a real time magnetic image of Ben’s head was pictured. The mass inside was visibly moving and growing.
Ben could do nothing but stare at the screen, horrified.
Week 63
“You point it at a group of people and it’ll obliterate everything in its path,” Johnny said as he handed the claymore mine to her. “Just make sure you’re on the right side of it when it goes off.”
Rachel eyed the Claymore mine with a little more respect and tucked it away in her ruck.
“So what do you think caused this to happen?” she asked, “I mean, I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before.” Her eyebrows wrinkled as she focused on securing the detonation switch and wire. “Well, in a movie yeah, but you know, not in real life. Zombies aren’t supposed to be real.” She looked up at Johnny as she finished.
Johnny appeared to be focused on his own packing although he glanced up at her as she finished speaking. “I don’t know Rachel, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
Both double checked the ruck sacks, made sure their weapons had the safeties turned off, and stepped up to the supply room door to look out the window into the hallway. The supply room was on the third floor neo-natal ward of St. Ward’s Mercy General Hospital. Outside the window the hallway was crawling, literally, with the tiny zombies.
“Who would ever have thought it could start with babies?” Rachel said.
“No shit,” Johnny replied. “Let’s do this.”
With that, they opened the supply room door and opened fire, each with shotguns. Baby limbs and brains covered the hallway walls.
Rachel eyed the Claymore mine with a little more respect and tucked it away in her ruck.
“So what do you think caused this to happen?” she asked, “I mean, I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before.” Her eyebrows wrinkled as she focused on securing the detonation switch and wire. “Well, in a movie yeah, but you know, not in real life. Zombies aren’t supposed to be real.” She looked up at Johnny as she finished.
Johnny appeared to be focused on his own packing although he glanced up at her as she finished speaking. “I don’t know Rachel, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
Both double checked the ruck sacks, made sure their weapons had the safeties turned off, and stepped up to the supply room door to look out the window into the hallway. The supply room was on the third floor neo-natal ward of St. Ward’s Mercy General Hospital. Outside the window the hallway was crawling, literally, with the tiny zombies.
“Who would ever have thought it could start with babies?” Rachel said.
“No shit,” Johnny replied. “Let’s do this.”
With that, they opened the supply room door and opened fire, each with shotguns. Baby limbs and brains covered the hallway walls.
Week 64
“It was the look in your father’s eyes that finally convinced me”, Jenna Morgan said.
Sarah looked straight back at her, her gaze not wavering at all.
“Well," Jenna continued, "I’m not sure what it was you did but you put some kind of fear into that man.”
Jenna continued glancing up every few minutes at the young woman in front of her while working on the circuitry boards she had pulled out from under the main flight console. The control panel was a shambles. Sarah didn’t see how this ship could possibly be ready for flight any time soon. The triple moons of Tau Zeti Tawn 4A made for some odd openings in the system’s gravity well. A ship could end up grounded for several days at a time so catching the grav-tide was early was important.
“So what did he do to you?” she asked.
Sarah didn’t offer any reply. She merely kept making eye contact, her face stern for one so young.
“I guess he raped you then,” Jenna continued. “Probably had his way with you ‘til he was tired of you and then- you aren’t pregnant are you?” she asked, “’Cause if you are you aren’t flying with me. I won’t have…”
“I’m not pregnant,” Sarah offered.
“So you can talk,” Jenna said. She gave Sarah a long evaluating look.
“And he didn’t rape me, but he tried to,” Sarah continued.
Sarah’s eyebrows wrinkled. “He tried to?”
“Yeah, he tried to.”
“And,” Jenna inquired.
“I woke him up one night after he had passed out and showed him a vid of me with a boot knife pressed against his balls,” Sarah said.
Jenna’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh!” she began, “I see, well then I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Sarah looked straight back at her, her gaze not wavering at all.
“Well," Jenna continued, "I’m not sure what it was you did but you put some kind of fear into that man.”
Jenna continued glancing up every few minutes at the young woman in front of her while working on the circuitry boards she had pulled out from under the main flight console. The control panel was a shambles. Sarah didn’t see how this ship could possibly be ready for flight any time soon. The triple moons of Tau Zeti Tawn 4A made for some odd openings in the system’s gravity well. A ship could end up grounded for several days at a time so catching the grav-tide was early was important.
“So what did he do to you?” she asked.
Sarah didn’t offer any reply. She merely kept making eye contact, her face stern for one so young.
“I guess he raped you then,” Jenna continued. “Probably had his way with you ‘til he was tired of you and then- you aren’t pregnant are you?” she asked, “’Cause if you are you aren’t flying with me. I won’t have…”
“I’m not pregnant,” Sarah offered.
“So you can talk,” Jenna said. She gave Sarah a long evaluating look.
“And he didn’t rape me, but he tried to,” Sarah continued.
Sarah’s eyebrows wrinkled. “He tried to?”
“Yeah, he tried to.”
“And,” Jenna inquired.
“I woke him up one night after he had passed out and showed him a vid of me with a boot knife pressed against his balls,” Sarah said.
Jenna’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh!” she began, “I see, well then I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Week 65
When the ten gods of the Kingdom of Rezzia went to war with the mystics of the lands of Pawelon, neither side could gain any advantage until one day it was realized that they had been fighting themselves. It was finally discovered that the two had met at the boundary between worlds. On one side, the normal world, and on the other was a mirror world. Like a small tiger cub approaching a mirror and mistaking itself for another, it had taken a while to figure out.
Ultimately, the introduction of a cosmic ball of yarn resolved this epic struggle.
Ultimately, the introduction of a cosmic ball of yarn resolved this epic struggle.
Week 6X (can't recall exact week)
Finally the digging was over. She stood in the grave, her body sleek with sweat, and wiped her forearm across her brow. The sky was growing lighter. She hadn’t much time.
She climbed out of the grave and walked over to the old oak tree. There she bent down, picked up the shoe box and opened it. Inside, the diminished body was a sickly gray, its stomach distended. The foul odor caused her nose to wrinkle in disgust. She replaced the lid and walked back to the open grave. She threw the shoe box into the hole and began filling it back up with the dirt mounded to either side. After about forty five minutes, she was done, tamping the dirt down with the shovel.
As she stood next to the mound, a light rain began to fall, all the better to hide her tears.
She climbed out of the grave and walked over to the old oak tree. There she bent down, picked up the shoe box and opened it. Inside, the diminished body was a sickly gray, its stomach distended. The foul odor caused her nose to wrinkle in disgust. She replaced the lid and walked back to the open grave. She threw the shoe box into the hole and began filling it back up with the dirt mounded to either side. After about forty five minutes, she was done, tamping the dirt down with the shovel.
As she stood next to the mound, a light rain began to fall, all the better to hide her tears.
Week 69
In my considerable experience, drug dealers are more likely to die a violent death than get hit by a bus, which is of course why she chose this course of action. To anyone watching, it would seem an accident and nothing more. But that was her goal.
Of course, something would probably go terribly wrong, it always did. Anything she tried to do seemed doomed from the start.
Like starting a family! That sure as hell didn’t work. Fairy tale marriage, an honeymoon in Europe, and then settling down in a swanky neighborhood right on the golf course. Such a wonderful start! But of course it didn’t last.
And of course, she had been blind to it all. The cheating, the dishonesty, all of the sneaking around. That had been really terrible and it had all come to light so fast! If she had realized her shrink was in on it from the beginning she never would have fallen for any of it! But she got wise to them! She got wise to them all!
Oh yeah, she had finally realized that she wasn’t the one with a problem. It was all of them. If she had realized the medicines they had her taking were really designed to hide the truth from her earlier she could have avoided all of this.
But too late. And now, he child, her sweet and beautiful darling. Only two years old. But sadly he was destined to be a gang banging drug dealer. High end of course, but still.
A moment of clarity and an insight into his future. That was all it took. She couldn’t stand by and watch that happen to him. Not as a loving mother! Of course she couldn’t stand for it.
As the bus sped down the hill she waited patiently. When the time was just right, she tossed the child under the front wheels, as any sane and loving mother would do.
Of course, something would probably go terribly wrong, it always did. Anything she tried to do seemed doomed from the start.
Like starting a family! That sure as hell didn’t work. Fairy tale marriage, an honeymoon in Europe, and then settling down in a swanky neighborhood right on the golf course. Such a wonderful start! But of course it didn’t last.
And of course, she had been blind to it all. The cheating, the dishonesty, all of the sneaking around. That had been really terrible and it had all come to light so fast! If she had realized her shrink was in on it from the beginning she never would have fallen for any of it! But she got wise to them! She got wise to them all!
Oh yeah, she had finally realized that she wasn’t the one with a problem. It was all of them. If she had realized the medicines they had her taking were really designed to hide the truth from her earlier she could have avoided all of this.
But too late. And now, he child, her sweet and beautiful darling. Only two years old. But sadly he was destined to be a gang banging drug dealer. High end of course, but still.
A moment of clarity and an insight into his future. That was all it took. She couldn’t stand by and watch that happen to him. Not as a loving mother! Of course she couldn’t stand for it.
As the bus sped down the hill she waited patiently. When the time was just right, she tossed the child under the front wheels, as any sane and loving mother would do.
Week 70
Pale light, broken apart into individual beams by the thick diamondglass of the skylight, cast stark shadows on the faces of the four men seated around a small table.
“So what’ll it cost me?” he asked. Ashton Palmente was not one who was used to asking such things. He flicked ashes towards the ashtray not even trying to hit it. The ashes spread out on the table.
“What do you think it should cost you?” Simon replied. His skin looked rough but solid like bleached concrete.
“Look,” the first speaker came back, “I’ll throw in the girl and we’ll call it even, okay? I don’t want any trouble over this, you understand? I can get you all the young women you need. Boys? You want boys? I can get those for you as well. So how’s that?”
Simon surveyed the other three men without moving his eyes. Two guerillas and Ashton Palmente. Ashton was the kind of scum Simon hunted with glee.
Some would say that Simon was a psychopath. In fact, several had said just that. He actually thought it sounded rather cool. He’d let the psychologist live for that very reason. Not so the guards. But that was long ago. Simon was much more refined now.
“I’ll tell you what it will cost you. Your life, the life of your two goons here, and anything else I decide it will. Okay?”
Ashton Palmente froze. The two goons at his side were clearly uncomfortable. Neither had ever heard anyone speak to the boss that way. After a moment of staring with disbelief, Ashton Palmente laughed. It started as a low rumble and then burst out into a full blown belly laugh. And then he was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing. And then the two goons at his side were on their knees, their hands at their throats.
Simon watched as the three men succumbed to the biological agent. He watched without moving as their bodies twitched. He crossed his legs, placing his hands on his knees while he waited for their bodies to stop moving.
Simon liked this part best. He place the opened cylinder on the table in front of him.
“So what’ll it cost me?” he asked. Ashton Palmente was not one who was used to asking such things. He flicked ashes towards the ashtray not even trying to hit it. The ashes spread out on the table.
“What do you think it should cost you?” Simon replied. His skin looked rough but solid like bleached concrete.
“Look,” the first speaker came back, “I’ll throw in the girl and we’ll call it even, okay? I don’t want any trouble over this, you understand? I can get you all the young women you need. Boys? You want boys? I can get those for you as well. So how’s that?”
Simon surveyed the other three men without moving his eyes. Two guerillas and Ashton Palmente. Ashton was the kind of scum Simon hunted with glee.
Some would say that Simon was a psychopath. In fact, several had said just that. He actually thought it sounded rather cool. He’d let the psychologist live for that very reason. Not so the guards. But that was long ago. Simon was much more refined now.
“I’ll tell you what it will cost you. Your life, the life of your two goons here, and anything else I decide it will. Okay?”
Ashton Palmente froze. The two goons at his side were clearly uncomfortable. Neither had ever heard anyone speak to the boss that way. After a moment of staring with disbelief, Ashton Palmente laughed. It started as a low rumble and then burst out into a full blown belly laugh. And then he was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing. And then the two goons at his side were on their knees, their hands at their throats.
Simon watched as the three men succumbed to the biological agent. He watched without moving as their bodies twitched. He crossed his legs, placing his hands on his knees while he waited for their bodies to stop moving.
Simon liked this part best. He place the opened cylinder on the table in front of him.
Week 71
Some people were so predictable. Chandra had been following the guy for over a week. This guy was so sleazy she felt a compulsion to bath, scrubbing vigorously when she went off shift. But she’d found a way in. Or at least a way to get a bug into the Flamingo.
The Flamingo was a “members only” club that served as a front to the Gandini Family on New Mars. They controlled the influx of illegal narcotics as well as some legitimate businesses. No agent had ever been able to infiltrate the Flamingo in over ten years of surveillance. Until now that is.
This guy, Johnny, was predictable. Whenever he saw someone begging in the tunnels below the martian surface, he would always ask them for a handout first. And then he would laugh like it was some kind of brilliant joke. This time he got a surprise.
Chandra had done undercover for years and when she wanted to look the part, she could do it better than any on the force. Tonight she looked like a street bum, maybe a jizz whore working the corner near the Flamingo. As Johnny approached she held out her hand and slowly opened her mouth as if to proposition him.
“Hey there sweetheart,” he cracked, “got a quarter you can spare for ol’ Johnny here?” His laughter was loud. He was totally caught off guard when Chandra flipped a coin up in the air. Out of sheer reflex, Johnny caught it in his hand. He looked it over, looked her over. And said, “Thanks!” as he pocketed the coin. What an idiot.
A few minutes later, Chandra checked the receiver and she heard voices. The signal was coming in loud and clear.
The Flamingo was a “members only” club that served as a front to the Gandini Family on New Mars. They controlled the influx of illegal narcotics as well as some legitimate businesses. No agent had ever been able to infiltrate the Flamingo in over ten years of surveillance. Until now that is.
This guy, Johnny, was predictable. Whenever he saw someone begging in the tunnels below the martian surface, he would always ask them for a handout first. And then he would laugh like it was some kind of brilliant joke. This time he got a surprise.
Chandra had done undercover for years and when she wanted to look the part, she could do it better than any on the force. Tonight she looked like a street bum, maybe a jizz whore working the corner near the Flamingo. As Johnny approached she held out her hand and slowly opened her mouth as if to proposition him.
“Hey there sweetheart,” he cracked, “got a quarter you can spare for ol’ Johnny here?” His laughter was loud. He was totally caught off guard when Chandra flipped a coin up in the air. Out of sheer reflex, Johnny caught it in his hand. He looked it over, looked her over. And said, “Thanks!” as he pocketed the coin. What an idiot.
A few minutes later, Chandra checked the receiver and she heard voices. The signal was coming in loud and clear.
Week 74
Pink Floyd blared from the radio as I texted.
So, you think you can tell, heaven from hell, blue skies from pain?
And I remembered the days of a summer lost, the years gone by, my memories ravaged by time.
And who the hell would have thought I’d be here now on the back of a military half-ton heading south to liberate Atlanta? Man how the world has changed.
They said it could never happen in North America like it did in the middle east. Hell, that was over twenty years ago. I can’t for the life of me figure out how anyone could think that could have influenced the U.S. and Canada today. But I’m no historian.
I know you don’t think that what I’m doing is the right thing. I know that you think joining up was the same thing as giving in. But when I see the videos with all of those people. Old people, children. All of them literally starving in the streets while the fatcats hole up in their high rises. I sympathise with them. Yeah, I want order again. I want stability in the world. But I think the only way we get there is by cutting out the cancer while we can, before the government is back in charge. So I’m going. I hope you’ll be there when I get back. If I get back.
Wish you were here.
So, you think you can tell, heaven from hell, blue skies from pain?
And I remembered the days of a summer lost, the years gone by, my memories ravaged by time.
And who the hell would have thought I’d be here now on the back of a military half-ton heading south to liberate Atlanta? Man how the world has changed.
They said it could never happen in North America like it did in the middle east. Hell, that was over twenty years ago. I can’t for the life of me figure out how anyone could think that could have influenced the U.S. and Canada today. But I’m no historian.
I know you don’t think that what I’m doing is the right thing. I know that you think joining up was the same thing as giving in. But when I see the videos with all of those people. Old people, children. All of them literally starving in the streets while the fatcats hole up in their high rises. I sympathise with them. Yeah, I want order again. I want stability in the world. But I think the only way we get there is by cutting out the cancer while we can, before the government is back in charge. So I’m going. I hope you’ll be there when I get back. If I get back.
Wish you were here.
Week 75
I would have screamed if I could have, but no, that was not possible.
Mine is a strange tale but if you will bear with me for but a few moments I will try to relate the horrible incident as best I can remember it. If you are squeamish, this may not be for you.
It was a cold November evening and the wind tore through the sky, its voice wailing and howling as I walked. I had spent a normal evening at the tavern, as was my wont of a Thursday. The weekend has yet to begin but there is energy in the air as workman and noble alike anticipates the coming joys of the weekend.
Having just come over a slight rise, I was astonished to see a young girl, a child really, standing by the side of the road. She wore only a slight summer weight dress and the wind threatened to shred even that.
I approached her and called out but perhaps my hail was lost in the wind; I’ll never know for sure but it really doesn’t matter. What happened next is was something I could never have anticipated.
She looked at me and her eyes stung my soul. I could feel my heart lurch as her eyes flared and flashed a dark, burning amber. Immediately my legs locked up and try as I might I could not get them to heed my desire. My desire to run.
She approached me slowly and held out one delicate hand. She pointed at my hands and I watched, spellbound, as my arms both rose up and extended towards her face.
She then put her mouth on my index finger and bite. And she continued biting until she had separated the finger from my hand.
I tried to run, I tried to scream, I tried flail, to fall down, anything, anything at all! But alas, I watched in horror as my body betrayed me and I stood as a manservant would, duty and honor bound to fulfill his master’s wishes no matter how horrid.
And then, after she had thouroughly consumed the first digit, she moved on to the next.
As you may imagine, I am not writing this tale but instead it is being taken down by a friend. I know that you must think me mad but it is true. Every last word of it.
Mine is a strange tale but if you will bear with me for but a few moments I will try to relate the horrible incident as best I can remember it. If you are squeamish, this may not be for you.
It was a cold November evening and the wind tore through the sky, its voice wailing and howling as I walked. I had spent a normal evening at the tavern, as was my wont of a Thursday. The weekend has yet to begin but there is energy in the air as workman and noble alike anticipates the coming joys of the weekend.
Having just come over a slight rise, I was astonished to see a young girl, a child really, standing by the side of the road. She wore only a slight summer weight dress and the wind threatened to shred even that.
I approached her and called out but perhaps my hail was lost in the wind; I’ll never know for sure but it really doesn’t matter. What happened next is was something I could never have anticipated.
She looked at me and her eyes stung my soul. I could feel my heart lurch as her eyes flared and flashed a dark, burning amber. Immediately my legs locked up and try as I might I could not get them to heed my desire. My desire to run.
She approached me slowly and held out one delicate hand. She pointed at my hands and I watched, spellbound, as my arms both rose up and extended towards her face.
She then put her mouth on my index finger and bite. And she continued biting until she had separated the finger from my hand.
I tried to run, I tried to scream, I tried flail, to fall down, anything, anything at all! But alas, I watched in horror as my body betrayed me and I stood as a manservant would, duty and honor bound to fulfill his master’s wishes no matter how horrid.
And then, after she had thouroughly consumed the first digit, she moved on to the next.
As you may imagine, I am not writing this tale but instead it is being taken down by a friend. I know that you must think me mad but it is true. Every last word of it.
Week 76
It worked! Johnathan Frimp looked around the lab to see if anyone had noticed. Around him all of the other researchers were bent over their experiments intently focused on their own endeavors.
It worked! This was his ticket to freedom!
Now, he thought, if only I can make it to the office and announce what I have done.
You see, the research department was very competitive. Getting a patent these days was a real nightmare and without the backing of a corporate giant, it was nearly impossible. But even worse were the Corporation’s own personnel. If they could head you off and learn what you had done before you could officially declare it, they would claim that the idea came from within the Corporation, waste you in court, and leave you for nothing.
This was the big show.
Johnathan stared down at the lab bench for a moment to collect his thoughts. Finally, he came up with a plan. He would say he had to go to the bathroom.
Johnathan straightened his back and looked around, making a very noticeable groan. When he was sure that people, especially the guards and the lawyers, were watching him he put his hand on his stomach and made a grimace. And sure enough, one of the guards approached him followed by no less than four lawyers.
“So what’s the deal here Frimp,” the bury guard asked. “Tryin’ to ride the clock or something?” His hand drifted towards the collapsed baton on his belt.
“No, no,” Johnathan answered. “I think it was something I ate.” As he spoke, the lawyers were busy making notes on their datapads. Johnathan could almost swear he heard them murmuring as they wrote. I thought of that. That was my idea. I did that before you did.
“I just need a few minutes to go to the john if that’s okay,” he offered.
A few minutes. I thought of that. Time. I thought of that. John. John as a bathroom. Objective personalization of inanimate objects. I thought of that.
The security guard eyed Johnathan for a moment. His gaze drifted across the workbench in front of the researcher, suspicion thick as he weighed what had been said.
“Alright,” the guard said.
As Johnathan stood up, the guard’s baton was suddenly in his hand and he thumped it right in the center of the scientist’s chest.
“But no funny business,” he said. Funny business. I thought of that. “Ya’ hear?”
“Sure,” Johnathan said. “Sure thing.” He stepped around the guard and slowly made his way to the door. And possible freedom.
Freddom. I thought of that.
It worked! This was his ticket to freedom!
Now, he thought, if only I can make it to the office and announce what I have done.
You see, the research department was very competitive. Getting a patent these days was a real nightmare and without the backing of a corporate giant, it was nearly impossible. But even worse were the Corporation’s own personnel. If they could head you off and learn what you had done before you could officially declare it, they would claim that the idea came from within the Corporation, waste you in court, and leave you for nothing.
This was the big show.
Johnathan stared down at the lab bench for a moment to collect his thoughts. Finally, he came up with a plan. He would say he had to go to the bathroom.
Johnathan straightened his back and looked around, making a very noticeable groan. When he was sure that people, especially the guards and the lawyers, were watching him he put his hand on his stomach and made a grimace. And sure enough, one of the guards approached him followed by no less than four lawyers.
“So what’s the deal here Frimp,” the bury guard asked. “Tryin’ to ride the clock or something?” His hand drifted towards the collapsed baton on his belt.
“No, no,” Johnathan answered. “I think it was something I ate.” As he spoke, the lawyers were busy making notes on their datapads. Johnathan could almost swear he heard them murmuring as they wrote. I thought of that. That was my idea. I did that before you did.
“I just need a few minutes to go to the john if that’s okay,” he offered.
A few minutes. I thought of that. Time. I thought of that. John. John as a bathroom. Objective personalization of inanimate objects. I thought of that.
The security guard eyed Johnathan for a moment. His gaze drifted across the workbench in front of the researcher, suspicion thick as he weighed what had been said.
“Alright,” the guard said.
As Johnathan stood up, the guard’s baton was suddenly in his hand and he thumped it right in the center of the scientist’s chest.
“But no funny business,” he said. Funny business. I thought of that. “Ya’ hear?”
“Sure,” Johnathan said. “Sure thing.” He stepped around the guard and slowly made his way to the door. And possible freedom.
Freddom. I thought of that.
Week 77
She looked at the package with suspicion. There was nothing to indicate that she should worry, but she did.
“Why in the world would he have sent this today of all days?” she said aloud.
Walking around the table upon which it sat, she examined the wrapping paper. Nothing. She examined the bow. Nothing. She paused.
After a moment’s thought she picked up the package and shook it. Nothing. Not a sound. In fact, the entire package seemed to weigh almost nothing as if it were empty.
Interesting, she thought.
Sheila picked up the package, went to the window, opened the window, and through the package out. She watched as it sailed fourteen stories, the wind blowing it sharply to one side, and smashed on the sidewalk.
Part of her still itched to know what, if anything was in the package.
“Better safe than sorry,” she said to herself.