Category Archives: fiction

fiction, writing

Sir Chimbo the Kung Fu Astro-Monkey

This is a rough timeline for an abolutely silly idea I have.

1935 Shanghai – Dr. Lin Ho, master of a number of disciplines both scientific and mystical, had a breakthrough in his efforts to project his essence into an animal. Intending to use this as a method to infiltrate Nazi and Communist forces, he instead granted a portion of his intelligence. Chi, and knowledge into a gibbon he’d been keeping as a companion. He had named the ape Chen Bo, but given the ape’s limited ability to speak, its nickname quickly became Chimbo.

The doctor spent the next five years teaching and refining Chimbo’s abilities. The conferred essence, intense exercises, and mixtures of medicinal and herbal treatments also increased his physical stature. His intelligence continued to grow as did his knowledge of languages and the mystic arts. He was able to fashion a necklace which gave his words a clarity which exceeded his physical limitations.

In early 1940, Dr. Lin shared with his friend that he’d been invited to a retreat in the mountains of Tibet. He assured Chimbo that he would return. Until then, he was sending the gibbon to England to study with old friends at Cambridge. While his studies were largely conducted in secret, it could not be helped that he would make friends.

Eventually, one such friend went to war and was captured on a secret mission. It was then that Chimbo was sent on his first secret mission. Several such successful missions followed, at least two resulting in saving members of the royal family. The Queen recognized his contribution to the war effort and granted him official citizenship and made him a knight.

Once the war was over, Chimbo went to America. Dr. Lin still hadn’t returned from his studies in Tibet, though the pair stayed in regular contact via astral projection. Joint missions with Americans in the last months of the war had given him contacts in the scientific community. Fascinated with rocketry, he was able to secure a position working with Wernher von Braun. A combination of Chimbo’s mystical and scientific skills along with the secrets von Braun brought with him from the Nazi’s own secret programs soon resulted in a ship capable of escaping the confines of the Earth.

Christened the Sun Wukong, the ship enabled up to five travelers to explore the inner solar system. Chimbo and his crew were among the first to encounter the Martians and thwart an invasion. An uneasy peace treaty was forged.

The crew of the Sun Wukong:
Paul Dirac – English physicist
Dr. Percy Juiian – American chemist.
Dr. Rachel Carson – american Biologist and writer
Amelia Earhart – pilot, rescued by Chimbo in the early forties from an island in the Pacific.

fiction, writing

District 21 Part Five


Cloning facility by adamkuczek on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Kain and Lilith walked for what seemed like four or five kilometers, taking twists, turns and in one case another ladder. Finally, she placed her pale hand against a palm lock on the corridor wall.

Kain wouldn’t have even noticed the lock, much less the hairline cracks which made up the outline of a door. That was, unless ze was looking for it specifically with zir senses turned to max. Ze chuckled at the cleverness of it. “Why in the void would anyone make that?”

Lilith walked into the space beyond and lights came on. The room was large and looked like a disused shelter of sorts. There were three sets of bunk beds three levels high. Storage cubbies on each of the side walls were filled with sealed plastic boxes. Their contents were a mystery due to the opaque material. A few cobwebs fluttered in the corners of the room and it smelled of neglect. “This is why. There are rooms like this all over the city and everywhere the population was over a certain amount when they were made. We’ve since turned them to our own uses.” She made a pass with her hands and the quality of the light changed, becoming more diffuse and blue rather than white.

The bunks disappeared, nothing more than a high quality holo. In fact, the cobwebs and even some of the dust vanished. In their place was a room you could operate in and a wall that was more of a vid screen. Or perhaps a window? Ze couldn’t be sure, but none of that mattered for the moment. The view ze now had was of a series of cylinders with one body floating in each. After staring closely for a few seconds, ze could tell it was a projected image from somewhere else. “I could run up a vid like this in half a day. It proves nothing.”

Lips formed a moue of annoyance. “This is real. I know, you don’t want to take my word for it, but we must make sure you’re on board before we actually let you join us.”

“So before I can receive the reward, one I don’t know is real, I have to put everything on the line.” Ze held up a hand to stave off protests. “I told you, it’s not about the money, or even the new body. It’s about the fun. You want to unmake our current society. You’ve gone to great pains to make it happen. That’s almost enough.”

Lilith snorted, more like a bull than a laugh. “What would put the fun over the top for you?”

“To get back to my people, without them chilling me en route, they require a pound of flesh to know it’s righteous. I don’t have proof, won’t be any me left to help you. And they might decide to strip mine my core processor, take the memories, and use them to find and blaze you off the map.”

Her pale skin turned a shade of green. “What’s to stop them from doing that even if you do bring them this proof?”

“They’re business types. I’ve done too much for them to cut any ties without provocation. There will be other jobs.” Something near zir forearm clicked and whirred. “Besides, can’t you just grew a replacement?” A thin rod slid out from under zir sleeve. As it got longer it tapered to a nearly invisible point. The steel whip looked rigid enough, but ze could use it to remove head from neck or hand from arm.

“I can, but I’d prefer not to. If that’s the only way.” Her pallor and slumped posture spoke of fear and subjugation. Emotions she likely hadn’t felt in a while.

Kain brought his hand back and down, aiming for the spot above her wrist bone.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

 

fiction, writing

District 21 Part Four


Background design : corridor by ThoRCX on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Kain couldn’t smile, per se. That was more of an advantage than one might think. Ze still grinned on the inside. A hump, where zir right shoulder would be, exploded like a giant zit. If, that is, zits were filled with dozens of tiny darts. In case a face full of metal wasn’t a deterrent, each one was tipped with a virulent strain of flesh eating bacteria.

The scream, cut short by the hail of flechettes, indicated the being on the receiving end might not have to worry about the bugs.

“I don’t like being ambushed.” Kain took a couple of steps forward, enjoying the mix of horror and anger on the woman’s face.

To her credit, Lilith kept her hands where they were and more or less maintained her composure. Once she adjusted her attitude. “I can see that. Fortunately, he can be replaced.”

“Can you? I asked you before, and if there’s a thing I hate worse than being jumped, it’s repetition, why should I listen to you?”

“You’ve come this far, and if you try and leave without me, you won’t breathe fresh air again. No matter how many nice tricks you have under your raincoat.” Fear had been replaced by a steely determination.

According to the readouts flickering behind zir eyes, she wasn’t lying. The why of how of her threat didn’t matter. Ze did so love to feel the rain on zir skin. What was left of it. “Go on, then.” The mass driver went back to its home.

“Everything I’ve said is true. And we have enemies, as is apparent by the contract you have.” Lilith licked her luscious red lips. “I want you to take care of those problems we have. We’re not without resources. Since I wasn’t able to beat you, as I was the ones who came before you, I want you to join us.”

Kain squinted. “You want to pay me off to double cross my employer? I’d have to be careful. It would take a lot of money, but also a compelling reason. I don’t believe in your cause. Humanity as it was, proved to be weak and full of itself. We’re better off as we are.”

Lilith stepped forward and placed her hand gently on the plate on Kain’s lower face. It was smooth, warm, and made of flexible scales so small as to give it the illusion of being one piece. “You are? Wouldn’t you love to have everything back that you’ve lost? While I see merit in the improvements made to your form, I know enough to be certain most of them weren’t your idea. The ones I’ve seen are all military grade. You have more than two legs, don’t you?”

Kain nodded. He couldn’t feel her skin on his face, but could sense the pressure. She was barking up the wrong tree. Mostly. There was potential to what she was saying for other reasons. “You can reverse the changes they’ve made to me?”

“Better than that. I can regrow an entire new body for you. Then we can take that beautifully murderous mind and move it into its new home.” Lilith leaned in close enough to kiss Kain on the cheek. “How does that sound?”

“You have my attention again, Lilith. Try anything like you did with your boy back there, and they won’t be the only one who eats it.”

She pressed her lips to a small patch of skin that could still be thought of as original. Bristles of hair brushed her lips. She shuddered, though whether from delight or disgust it couldn’t be said. A bit of red was left behind on the greenish white surface. When she backed away, her smile was firmly in place. “I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s finish our little journey and we can talk about the details.”

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

 

fiction, writing

District 21 Part Three

1 Comment


Blue Eyes by Zurh on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Lilith. Ze had enough knowledge to find the name amusing. Given zir name, ze’d certainly been the recipient of zir own set of jokes and comments. Perhaps this one chose the name on purpose or maybe it was just a happy accident. “So, Lilith, we can talk about why someone would want to chill you. Then maybe we can figure out a way to make this fun for the both of us.”

“Fun?” Her full lips curled into a smile. “What about the money? Or the reputation?”

Ze shrugged misshapen shoulders. “I don’t need either. They both serve their purposes, but may have a lower priority.”

Lilith shrugged off the red rain slicker and let it slump to the floor. The black catsuit she had on underneath was made from some diamond nanotube weave. it let scans through and was breathable, but would stop nearly any kind of penetration. Kinetic energy was still an issue. It also did interesting things to her full figure, hiding nothing but revealing nothing fully. “Fair enough. Where we’re going, we’ll have the privacy to talk business.” She reached down and pulled back a section of the thin flooring squares used in these sorts of hotels. The metal underneath was stained, but solid enough. After pressing hard for three seconds and releasing, the section popped up enough so she could pull at it and lever it open.

If ze had eyebrows they would be crawling up zir head. But, ze didn’t and that made for an excellent poker face.

Lilith went down the ladder first, into the pitch below. If the darkness bothered her or slowed her down, she gave no sign.

Kain adjusted zir eyes with a series of rapid blinks to be able to see what awaited zir. It looked like nothing more than some kind of service tunnel. Fitting into the hatch with zir oddly shaped body was a challenge, but ze managed it with a few wiggles. Ze was even able to pull the panel closed behind zir with a click. It would leave the carpet square off to one side, but there was little to be done about that.

Once at the bottom of the ladder, she lead them through a series of tunnels. Wide enough to drive a small car through, navigating it wasn’t hard. It was still pitch black, but she moved with calm assurance.

Kain rethought the notion that she wasn’t an upgraded human. She’d have to have some kind of eye mod to be able to see, unless those blue eyes were some sort of lens. Ze pulled the mass driver free and held it, more for comfort than anything. Ze was nervous, but it was the kind of nervous you got right before you opened a present.

After at least three minutes, she stopped. “Here’s good.” Her voice echoed softly in the dark. She reached into a pocket on one sleeve and twisted something. Soft reddish light streamed from where epaulets would be on her armor.

“Talk to me about why I shouldn’t chill you or you me. I don’t mind an interesting trip, but I’ve got places to be.”

“You’ll like this, Kain. I’m part of a small group of beings who wants to return the human race to what it once was.” The smile on her face was brilliant, even in the low light. “We are all fully human, and I’m their leader. The ones who want me dead are the ones responsible for the world being what it is.”

Kain didn’t think the world as it was was such a bad thing. Ze was tempted to shoot her in those crazy teeth. “How so?”

“I know the official story is there simply isn’t enough pure human genetic material left to re-populate. All we have are genetically modded people and a large chunk of mutants. That was no accident.”

“Part of the sodding hyper-war, wasn’t it?” Kain was once sure of that fact, but this Lilith had a quality about her that made zir want to believe what she said. A charisma that insinuated its way into a beings’ bones.

She wagged a finger. “Official story says yes. My story says, there was no hyper war and the leaders wanted sentient life on Earth to be beholden to the government to reproduce. The war, such as it was, was a sham.”

Kain chuffed. “A little too much to believe. And if I did, why should I care? I ain’t planning on doing any reproducing.” Ze pointed the mass driver at her forehead. “One more time with feeling. Why shouldn’t I chill you right now and claim the bounty?”

“You do, and your dead.” The male voice was deep, but smooth rather than gravelly. It came from more or less behind and above Kain. The whine of a large energy discharge ramping up couldn’t be ignored.

fiction, writing

District 21 Part Two

1 Comment

Cyberpunk by vladimirpetkovic on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Kain continued to track the woman through the streets of the district. Whoever she was, fear didn’t appear to be on her screens. No one approached her, not strange in itself, since most beings tended to keep to themselves. Still, there were other dangers on the street. Everything from king rats to the five-oh could take you down.

Finally, they arrived at a hotel Kain was familiar with. Ze had never stayed there zirself, but ze had done business there more than once. The red script on the sign was neo-kanji and proclaimed the building was dry and possessed clean sleep cells. Both of those claims were likely false, but anything to get out of the persistent drizzle.

When ze stepped into the lobby, ze wasn’t surprised to be met by a weapon. That it was a vibro-stiletto in the thin fingered hand of his prey, rather than a slug thrower or a shocker, was the surprising bit.

Her black hair, undaunted by the moisture, stuck out in all manner of directions. In the buzzing yellow light of the hotel’s lobby, her eyes were no less haunting and blue. Her lips were just as full and crimson. She wasn’t zir type, but Kain would be hard pressed not to call her a beauty under most being’s standards. “Why are you following me?” Her voice was a dusky contralto. It wasn’t electronically modulated and was probably her natural voicebox.

Did she not have any implants? Fascinating. “To kill you. Eventually.” Kain was many things, but ze was no liar.

“What’s to stop me from killing you?” Her gaze roamed over the bits of flesh visible on Kain’s face, seemingly unperturbed by the amount of exposed circuitry and scar tissue. Not to mention the metal plate bolted over the area where a mouth and jaw should be.

Ze spoke again, voice emanating from the vox-box at zir throat. “Nothing. Curiosity?” Ze shrugged. “Maybe we could both not chill the other, for a few seconds?”

The tip of the stiletto dipped, and it ceased its low hum. “Maybe. Tell me who hired you.”

Kain chuckled, the sound like an ancient gearbox failing. “Professional courtesy keeps me from that. I can tell you they don’t like you very much. Me? I’m beginning to appreciate you. I can also tell you, they want you dead for a nice chunk of cred and no one else in the Districts wanted to do it.”

The woman smiled. “I can imagine. That means you’re stupid and greedy.”

Kain shrugged, zir own slicker a misshapen set of lumps. “Also ugly. Call it how you see it. But I’ll chill you if I want to. You would have already been dead a bit ago, if I’d pulled the trigger.”

“Your mass driver would have misfired. I spotted you early on.” She slipped the blade under her left sleeve. Her head cocked to one side, she smiled. Her teeth were bright and even. “Maybe we’re both just that good. I’ve heard things about someone like you who calls themselves Kain.”

“Only one of me. They didn’t give me a name for you. What can I call you?” Ze glaced around the lobby, surprised the Otto who manned it wasn’t chattering at them. Then he saw the poor glitcher’s robotic head was separated from its body.

“Lilith will do.”

 

fiction, writing

District 21 Part One

2 Comments


Commission: Grid by KM33 on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

It was always raining in this District. They claimed it was to balance the amount it didn’t rain in other places, but if they really had a lock on weather control, would that be an issue?

On balance, the only thing that the rain adversely effected in Kain’s life was zir underwear was never fully dry. That could make a being really pissy. Ze walked the Districts, doing the jobs no other being wanted to do. In effect, the pissiness helped zir do zir job. This time ze was here to put a hit on someone. It wasn’t personal. It was just business.

Ze pulled out zir mass driver and checked the safety. The small projectile weapon would put a massive hole in any being’s head. It was a mercy, really. One being’s overkill was another being’s conscientiousness. Ze tucked the mass driver in zir coat and stopped on the corner. Once ze had line of sight on where the target was supposed to be, ze pulled out the ancient vape inhaler and keyed its warmup sequence. Soon, Kain was breathing out plumes of smoke that smelled and tasted like an approximation of cooked meat. It was all synth, and was a wretched habit, but ze needed an occasional reminder of why this work needed to be done. Two more jobs like this and ze could afford an actual piece of farmed meat. It would be vat grown, but it wasn’t like cows were a real thing.

A flash of red and the target was visible. Their rain coat was the color of arterial human blood.

Ze brought out the mass driver and paid close attention to the readout. Distance of twenty meters. Adjust for the rain, drop, and drift. Ze was just about to close the relay and send this being to the void when Kain saw the face.

The being looked female, honest to void, pre-hyper war female. The lips were full and almost as red as the slicker. Wide blue eyes and black hair were so vivid it could have been from a holo. It was hard to tell if the water on her face was rain or tears.

Kain’s eyes roved down her body and saw the suggestion of breasts under the coat. With an adjustment of the scope, ze was able to confirm from heat signatures and hi-res computer tomography that she had all of the internal and external organs expected from a pure female. Ze couldn’t pull the trigger on a creature so rare. Once the mass driver was powered down and safe, ze broke out into the pouring rain. Following her was the only option for now.

Once ze was able to find out where she was staying, ze would talk with the being ze contracted with. One thing Kain hated most was being lied to. Even if the lie was a sin of omission.

e-book, fiction, pimpage, review

Review – Origin of Might (Ebook)

OrginOfMight-Cover

I’ve been following Steven’s blog and writing for a while now. His stuff has an undeniably quirky sense of humor about it, and he has a unique voice. When I saw this freebie, I decided to go ahead and give it a try. Is it a MIGHTY SUCCESS, or a MIGHTY FAILURE?

Oliver Jordan’s day was like any other: Dealing with customers and coworkers at Job #1, getting delayed on the way to Job #2 by another senseless superhero battle, and delivering that last pizza of the night to Old Man Pembleton.
Except this time Mr. Pembleton’s tip was far from normal. This time Oliver was given a ring that would grant him powers beyond his wildest dreams. Oliver only needs to figure out how to make the thing work.
Not an easy task when you are busy dealing with apathetic teenagers and alien abduction.
Origin of Might is the first in a series of books set in and around Garrison City, home to such heroes (or Mighties) as the Shadow Fox, Power Surge, Lady V, Spitfire, and the legendary Captain Might.
Can Oliver Jordan find the time to work two jobs, provide for his family, attend school functions, spend quality time with the wife and kids, and save the world?
The answer begins here.

The Goods –  I love super hero stories. I don’t think they should be limited to just comic books and the great thing is, they aren’t. I’ve reviewed a few hero books on this here blog, including Pilgrimage by Matt Selznick and Other People’s Heroes by Blake Petit. This book fills squarely in the latter camp, a more traditional capes and cowls, four color blast of fun.

This is an origin story. I say that for those of you who may not clue into that from the title and description. For me, that’s a blast. I love origin stories. We get to see Oliver Jordan (a nod to a couple of heroes) as he is before he gets the powers granted to him by the ring. We get to see him fumble and get the snot knocked out of him. There are a few minor mysteries, including why Old Man Pembleton gave him the ring, but no instructions or warning that someone might be out to get him. There’s plenty of action and we get introduced to a few of this city’s other heroes.

The Bads – This is an origin story. See, I put that in the goods and the bads. I know there are some of you out there who don’t care for them. That’s not why I put it in the bads, but if I had paid for this, I would have felt slightly cheated. I would have liked to see just a bit more of something other than Jordan getting pulverized. It’s a bit on the brief side. It feels very much like the first episode of a comic or TV series. I think $.99 or $1.99 would be a bit more of a fair price for something of this length.

There’s only one other thing that bugs me about this. In a way, most of this book feels like it’s aimed at younger kids. Heroes are called “Mighties”. There’s an overall lightness of tone and humor which I think would work with young teens. I imagine if it were made into a bit of animation, it would be all primary colors and chunky bodies. Then there are the scenes where Jordan gets stomped on and brutalized. The villain in this piece is pretty violent and I recall some vivid levels of description when it comes to that. I wouldn’t necessarily want my younger teen to read this. It’s almost like it wants to be the CW Flash and Nolan’s Batman at the same time. There’s a disconnect. It occasionally knocked me out of the story.

The Verdict – I really like this book. If the price point doesn’t throw you off, or if you’re a Kindle Direct person, I wouldn’t hesitate to grab it. Just know that it might not be for the younger set. It’s a quick read and I do want to see more in this universe. I give this Four out of Five Power Rings.

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fiction, flash fiction

Friday Flash – “Riding with the Kings”

He stood at the crossroads, surrounded by the land he’d been born in. The suit he wore was cheap and threadbare, but it was comfortable, even in the moist heat. He leaned against the guitar case and held his thumb out. In the distance he could see something kicking up a plume of dust. With any luck it would be his ride.

The long, low Cadillac pulled to a stop, the the white paint job and chrome making it hard to look at in the delta sun. Its cloth top was down, revealing the two people sitting on its red leather upholstery. The driver had jet black hair and swarthy skin. He was handsome in a workmanlike way. He wore blue jeans and a linen shirt. His prominent nose gave him quite the dramatic profile. The passenger was a white boy with blond hair, styled in a pompadour. His full mouthed pout made him look a little sad, but his eyes smiled brightly. He had on a bright red Hawaiian shirt, and there were several gold chains around his neck each ending in a different symbol.

The white boy stepped out and held the door open. “We’ve been waitin’ for you. Hop on in and we’ll take you where you’re goin’.” The boy took the battered guitar case and placed it with reverence in the back of the Caddy.

The driver looked up from his place at the wheel. “Don’t just stand there. We’ve got a gig to get to.” He held out a thickly callused hand. “Pleasure to finally see you in person.”

The hitchhiker shook the driver’s hand as he slid into place. “Pleasure to meet you to. I wasn’t sure who’d be picking me up. I made this deal…”

The kid jumped into the back and whooped. “Deals like that aren’t worth the vellum they’re written on.”

The driver put the car in gear and the three men started singing along to the old gospel song playing on the radio.

We shall sing on that beautiful shore
The melodious songs of the blessed;
And our spirits shall sorrow no more,
Not a sigh for the blessing of rest.

They drove into the setting sun, the sound of the moaning wind playing a counterpoint to their chorus.

fiction

Bacon and Oral Sex

No, not an attempt to get hits. Just the next piece of my serial horror story.

Made20bacon Melanie startled awake, drenched in sweat. She’d been dreaming about something huge with long vicious teeth chasing her down the hall. She threw the sheet off and realized that it was sticking to her crotch. She’d wet herself in her sleep. Her face flushed and she gingerly pushed the damp fabric away. Light struggled through the blinds and she looked at the clock. It was almost nine.

“What the hell was in that pill?” She got out of bed and gathered the wet sheets. The smell of her own piss made her wrinkle her nose. One decent thing the apartment had was a washer and dryer.

“Elard?” She yelled before she kicked the door to her room open. There was no answer. She had a moment of panic and envisioned finding him hanging from the ceiling fan in the middle of their living room. Thankfully it was the paranoid delusion brought on by nightmare filled sleep.

The washer and dryer was in their bathroom closet. She threw the sheets in and took off her clothes, adding them to the mix. Once she had it going she turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up. The tile was cold under her bare feet and there was a chill in the air. They kept the heat turned low to save on utility bills. She looked at herself in the mirror and gasped. There were big dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a stringy mess. She felt like crawling back into bed, but with no sheets it wouldn’t have been quite as effective.

She climbed into the shower and washed herself thoroughly. She even went so far as to shave her legs and pits. It made her feel human. She didn’t leave the shower until the water started to develop a chill. Once she was out and toweled off, she got into her bathrobe and that’s when she heard the front door open and close.

“Elard?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Of course it was him. But she didn’t hear the person unlock the deadbolt. The footfalls were heavier than Elard’s usual even, light step. She whimpered and backed away from the thin, hollow door separating her from whoever it was out there. She might have pissed herself again if it wasn’t for the fact that her bladder was empty.

“Mel, you awake?” Elard’s voice boomed from the kitchen.

“Elard? I’m in the bathroom.” Her voice sounded stronger than she did. She held out her hands and willed them to stop shaking. Once she was sure she wouldn’t fly into a thousand pieces she walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

He came out of the kitchen, wearing blue jeans, a black turtleneck, and a purple sweatshirt that had been cut to ribbons. “I got us groceries.”

“But it’s only the fifteenth. We usually don’t get groceries for another week.” The cupboard was getting pretty bare.

“I grabbed your card. You have that five hundred dollars, right?”

The money. The blood money. She balled up her fists and started swinging her hands and screaming. The first few clumsy punches missed him, but he let the next few catch him in the chest. “I wasn’t going to use that. It’s dirty. Damn you.”

Eventually he caught her hands and with effort managed to hold on to them. “Calm down, Mel. It may be dirty, but we could use the groceries and fuck this guy.”

She stopped fighting and felt all of the anger and energy drain out of her. “Yeah, fuck this guy.” She fell to the floor on her butt and cradled her head in her hands.

“Look, let me fix you breakfast and we’ll get started. You go get dressed before you have any more of a wardrobe malfunction.” He turned and walked into the kitchen.

She looked down and saw that her tobe gaped open. She pulled it shut, tied it off, and went to her bedroom. A clean pair of jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt later and she stood in the kitchen, inhaling the aroma of bacon and coffee. “I’m sorry.”

Elard turned from the cooking bacon, tongs in hand. “Don’t worry about it. My sister hits harder than that and she’d only eleven. You had a seriously fucked up day and it’s not going to get better anytime soon. We’ll eat and plan. You’ll feel a little better every day.”

“I wish I could be as sure about that as you are. Why are you so sure?” She walked over to the coffee pot. “Hey, we have a fucking coffee pot.” She opened the cabinet door and pulled down a mug.

“Yeah it was like fifteen bucks. No more of that instant crap.” He looked from the bacon to her. “I think I told you that I had some pretty bad stuff happen to me when I was a kid, right?”

She sipped the strong, black brew and nodded, moaning. “Damn that’s good. Yeah, but you never told me what.”

“Not very many people know. My mom was killed not long after my sister was born. Someone came into our house and held us up. When they couldn’t get the money they wanted they blew her head off. Did it right in front of me and the baby girl. I felt like shit about it for years. I was this big, bad twelve year old and I thought I should have been able to stop a grown ass man from killing my mom.”

“You were just a kid. There was-”

They said “nothing you could do” in unison. “Exactly. This woman was hurt bad and there was nothing you could do and no way you could have known. I got better with therapy. You will too.”

“They ever catch the guy?”

Elard shook his head. “No. Probably never will. Personally, he’s the one son of a bitch I’d like to see fried crisper than this bacon. But he probably OD’d in an alley somewhere.” He transferred the bacon to paper towels.

She took a piece and nibbled at it. Then she shoved the whole piece in her mouth and chewed noisily.

Elard laughed. “You act like you haven’t had a decent meal in months.”

She swallowed the bacon and with a healthy slug of coffee she nodded. “I have, just not bacon cooked so expertly.”

“I worked a short order job for a summer at the beach when I was sixteen. I learned how to make crispy bacon and the secret to good oral sex that year. Oddly enough, in both cases it’s patience.”

She laughed, snorting coffee through her nose.

They finished breakfast and cleanup. Melanie drank a second cup of coffee and made it last for thirty minutes while she watched Elard go through his morning yoga.

“I’m going out for a jog and then I’m going by the library. I’ve got snooping to do.” He had changed into a pair of shorts that would make Richard Simmons proud or scandalized and wore a long sleeved black shirt that hugged him tightly.

She nodded. “I need to research what we talked about last night.”

He shut the door and she fired up her laptop. It was three years old, but Elard kept it running in tip top shape. He took good care of her. She wondered if she brought as much to their friendship as he did. When she asked him about it once he just told her that she was his bitch and he was hers and things would level out one day.

She had access to a number of newspaper and periodical databases thanks to her status as a student. She had also done an internship the past summer to the local newspaper and her mentor had showed her several tricks of the trade. Before lunch she had a number of files saved that included mysterious deaths and hospitalizations. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but anything that caught her eye got dumped into the to be read file.

When she got tired of pouring over the grim and grisly business of offing your fellow humans, she turned attention to the owner of that thrift shop. She didn’t remember the name of the shop, but a quick search of the address told her that the name was Second Hand Rose. The owner’s name was not, in fact, Rose. It was Felicia Trainor. She’d owned the shop for two years. According to her Facebook page, the shop was quite popular with the local soccer mom set.

More trolling on social networking and city and county public records showed her that Felicia had run similar shops in other cities. She moved every couple of years. If the pattern continued she was going to make the move again soon. Whoever it was that wanted her harmed must have known that. One of her searches turned up something interesting. Felicia had been put on trial on drug charges. The charges including possession with intent to sell. She couldn’t find any record of jail time, but that was an area she wasn’t familiar with. She’d need to find out how hard it was to snoop a person’s criminal record. Employers had to be able to do background checks.

Maybe the killer was another dealer she’d pissed off? That made a little sense to her. She looked up at the clock and realized that it was nearly lunch time. The smell of frying bacon still hung in the air, but it didn’t smell as good as it had when it was fresh. She looked in the fridge and made herself a sandwich and took grapes and an apple. They all went in a small backpack with a bottle of water. She slung it over one shoulder and went out back to get her bike.

The afternoon was cool and sunny, the sun brutally bright. She unlocked her bike and pushed off, jumping into the seat and peddling furiously. The rolling mount was left over from childhood, meant to impress her best friend Maegan. She hadn’t been peddling for more than two minutes when she realized there was a car behind her. She slowed down, intending to let it pass, but it didn’t. She hopped the bike up onto the sidewalk and pulled to a stop, taking her water bottle out.

While she swallowed several long draughts of cool water, she looked around. When she saw the BMW she choked. It had to be the same one from yesterday. She tried to be as nonchalant as possible in putting the bottle back and mounting her bike. She headed up the sidewalk, still in the same direction. When she passed a house with an open yard that backed up to a house with no fences, she swung onto the grass and pumped her legs hard. In thirty seconds she was on the street running parallel to the one she’d just been on. She doubled back in the direction of her apartment,

The car would have to go at least a block further to make a cross street. She cut back over to the original street, making a circuit. If the car was still on this street she would do the same thing in the other direction and head as fast as she could towards campus. It was nowhere to be found.

Had she imagined the whole thing? She couldn’t be sure. Fear did funny things. Her appetite had flown the coop, but she needed the energy. She road to a nearby park frequented by young moms and their toddlers and ate there. The sound of laughter warmed the chill in her soul.

fiction

Half a Plan

Bomber-beer Melanie collapsed onto the the ratty old plaid couch that she and Elard rescued from a curb last year. The previous owner had dogs and you could still smell them. It reminded her of home, one of her few good memories of the place she and her brother escaped. They’d had a massive brindle pit mix who was a sweet heart in spite of Dad’s effort to turn him into a killer.

“Want a beer?” Elard fished around in their fridge, a few feet away from the couch.

“Yes. Oh good God, yes.”

He set two bottles on the counter and took out a plastic container. After dumping its contents into a pot on the stove, he twisted the caps off of the beer and brought the two labelless bottles to the living room. “Those are the last two of Donnie’s beer. He’s got another case ready for us. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

She took a long pull of the cold, homemade lager. The chill and bubbles burned her throat, and the bitterness made her lips pucker around the bottle neck. It cleared the saltiness of tears and snot from her throat. Her mouth popped as she released suction on the bottle. “Damn that’s good.”

Elard finished his swig. “The man knows his stuff.” He sat on the chair opposite the couch, giving her a little space. “So what’s the plan?”

“You said you could find out who got into the library’s computers?”

Elard nodded. “Maybe not who as in the name and address, but I can get some info and go from there. What are you going to do?”

She took another long pull at the beer. What could she do? “I’m just a liberal arts major in search of a degree. I don’t have your skills.”

Elard pointed his bottle neck at her. “You’re a damn fine researcher. It was what you were doing earlier tonight.”

“I could see if there are any other weird deaths in the area. I could find out whatever I could about the lady who was h- h- hurt.” She banged her knee with her free hand. “Damn it. Why didn’t I say no?”

Elard gestured around their apartment. The walls were bare except for two pieces of art made by friends. A long crack crept down one wall. The carpet was ratty and threadbare. “We live in a firetrap. We don’t even have a tv or stereo. I barely had money to buy what I needed for ballet last semester. You’re not much better off.”

“I burned a woman for rent money.”

“Damn it, woman. Stop. You didn’t burn shit. She opened a box she shouldn’t have.”

“She knew something was wrong.”

“What?”

Melanie remembered the look on her face when she saw what was on the box. “She was resigned to whatever it was and she knew the ending wouldn’t be a happy one.”

“Go on.” Elard got up and moved to the kitchen. He stirred the stew and banged the spoon on the edge of the pan.

“The only thing on the label was her address. It was handwritten. It wasn’t a girl’s handwriting, or if it was it was very masculine. She recognized the handwriting. She knew her killer. Attacker. What the fuck ever.”

Elard pulled out a set of mismatched bowls and spoons. “That’s something. But nothing immediately helpful.”

“I didn’t see the contents of the firebomb, but there was liquid and glass.”

“I know someone who might be helpful there.” Elard dished the stew into the bowls and brought them into the living room. He handed her one. It was from the restaurant Elard worked at a few days a week.

“You know a bomb maker?” She took a small bite of the stew. “Fuck me that’s hot. But so good.”

“Mama G knows her way around a pot of stew. And no it’s not a fucking bomb maker. He’s a chemistry student I hung out with a lot last year. He likes to make recreational explosives.”

Melanie snorted, surprised that she could find it in her to laugh. “Recreational explosives? I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Fireworks and that kind of thing.” He blew on the stew.

She drank a sip of beer, wanting to make the last third last. “Gotcha.” She already felt a little better about the whole thing. “Should I text this guy back?”

Elard ate a spoonful of stew and squinted. “I don’t know. That’s really iffy. We don’t want to attract a killer’s attention.”

She put the bowl down. She’d eaten half without even realizing it. “I’ve already got his attention. I wish I knew why.”

Elard shrugged. “It may not have been anything more than wrong place and wrong time. If he had that computer owned he could see who was using it. He saw what you were searching. Maybe he scanned your email and your bank account. He knew he had leverage and you had need. If you’d said no it would have been someone else.”

“What would you have said?”

“I don’t know, Mel. I mean I need the money as much as you do. I might have. I’ve done stupid things for money. Nobody alive hasn’t at some point.” He took another bite of stew. “This shit will make me think three times before I do anything stupid again. Guarantee that.”

She nodded. “Me too. So much for my future as a meth cook.” She ate the last few bites of her dinner and drank the last of the beer. With a belch that made Elard nod, she stood and stretched. “I need to see if I can get some sleep. I’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow. I was supposed to finish my research paper tonight so I could go to my knitting circle tomorrow. I’ve also got to go to work. I’m gonna have to miss my knitting circle and I may call in sick.”

Elard reached out his hand. Melanie took it. “You need anything, I’ll be here. I was gonna go out tonight, but I won’t be ten feet away.”

She squeezed his hand and pulled him up into a hug. They held each other for a long time. She whispered into his chest. “Thank you.”

He broke the hug. “You’re welcome. You’re my bitch. I’m gonna look out for you.”

“Bitches before riches.” They bumped fists. She walked to her bedroom and turned on the light. Her bed sat there, reminding her of nothing more than a crouching tiger. She didn’t think she’d get a wink of sleep. “You have any pills? You know for sleeping?”

Elard walked to his bedroom. After a few seconds of loud rummaging, he came into hers and sat down beside her on the bed. “You take one of these. He held out a small yellow pill. You’ll be asleep in five minutes.”

She popped the pill and reached for the half full water glass that sat by her bed. Mickey winked at her from the side of it. She took a long sip of the stale water and swallowed it and the pill. “Thanks, bitch.” She patted him on the thigh.

He got up and started to pull her door closed.

“Leave it cracked?”

He did.

She shucked out of her pants and shirt and walked to her dresser to grab a clean shirt. By the time she pulled it over her head she yawned. The pill was already kicking in. She heard Elard rummaging around in the kitchen. The noise comforted her. She crawled under the thin blanket, pulled it up around her chin, and turned off her bedside lamp.