The only people riding the Blue Line on a night this cold are people trying to stay alive. I almost didn’t make it onto the train before the doors closed, and I doubt I could’ve lasted till the next one arrived. Two coats, and a scarf—that shit means nothing in this weather. Hungry and tired,…
In two and half minutes, I’d either become the twelfth certified wormhole pilot or the seventieth-odd loser ripped apart by Jupiter’s storm shear. The decisive moment was speeding up to me. I’d ghost my electricals, coast through the eye of the storm, and slide through the tiny aperture halfway to another world. Even after all…
Corbin collapsed outside the dragon’s lair, acrid smoke wafting from his armor. He was getting too old for this. He’d never asked to be the gods’ favored champion. Sunlit forests spread out below him, a peaceful world unaware and unconcerned that he’d almost been eaten. Twice. Corbin drew a shuddering breath and wrenched a dragon…
Dozer and Digger eased out from the forest’s shadows, taking care not to damage the new growth. Dozer tilted its solar panels toward the sun. Its programming didn’t allow it to enjoy the afternoon’s warmth, but the increase in available power gave it something akin to satisfaction. Over the centuries, little had changed about their…
I ride into the clearing with my lance pointed skyward. My horse is already skittish. The dragon slaying business is always rough on horses, and I replace mine the way other riders do horseshoes. I didn’t even bother to name this one. But losing a horse always gives the story a little something. I circle…
After my husband died, I carried his ghost in my pocket. At the hospital, I held his hand as he told me in a raspy voice, “I made a memory cube for you, Zoe. It has everything you need. But don’t hang on to it. Once you’ve transferred everything, destroy it.” Lemar and I had…
There’s a book on my bookshelf, “Green Summer, Orange Leaves, Purple Lives” by Gina Marshall, a library book I checked out years ago and never managed to return. It sits there, nestled between a handful of cookbooks I’ve acquired over the years and failed to use and the Bible I was given on the day…
I don’t think I died last night. At least, I’m pretty sure. I remember running across the street to grab a snack at the mini-mart. I remember freezing in panic as a semi-truck’s headlights flashed in the road. I remember scrambling up the sidewalk as the truck sped by, blasting its horn. But I could…
Smallpox Ate the Americas Once by Leon Perniciaro Will and Santos attacked the farmhouse door with hatchets as Marco coughed blood and clutched his chest behind them. A few miles northeast, both Twofer ships jutted from Lincoln Woods State Park like massive lawn darts. “I’ve never seen anybody survive a Twofer infection this bad,” Will…
Out of the Bag By Floris M. Kleijne I recognize the hissing. Full, almost guttural, like he really wants to growl. No tom hissed quite like Jones. The sound lurks at the edge of my hearing, somewhere inside the apartment, maybe even outside, taunting me to come look, to see what vapors and megrims have…
