It’s a long weekend here in Vancouver, so you get a story.
This was my entry to a recent flash fiction contest run by Crystal Lake Publishing. It didn’t win, but I like it so I thought I’d post it here. As usual, this hasn’t been professionally edited so expect typos.
Trigger warning for kabourophobiacs.
I’ve known you since you were a little girl, Rachel, and I’ve trained you to become one of us. You’re like a daughter to me. Fuck this up and I will gut you like a fish and feast on your entrails. Good luck!
My wife and I are currently fostering this little guy. His name’s Perlo. He’s originally from Saudi Arabia and had to have reconstructive surgery on his jaw when he was younger. Perlo claims it was because he was attacked by a desert fox, but I think it’s far more likely that it was to change his identity so that he could smuggle $2 billion worth of diamonds out of the country.
“When you jump off a cliff, is it better to land on jagged rocks or burning lava? I know this one. The answer is obvious: It doesn’t matter where you land. You just jumped off a cliff.” from Sandman Slim by Richard Kadrey
I remember watching the first Mad Max film very clearly. My dad had rented it for me and although he didn’t really “get it”, I loved it. The next week we watched the second film, and I was a certified Mad Max fanboy.
The children were the first to spot The Memory Man. Gillian was playing catch with her older brother when the discordant chimes echoed across the valley. Immediately, she dropped the ball and ran back toward their home. She was old enough now, almost seven, and her father had promised. He’d promised!
“We gather in huge cities of concrete and steel, belching exhaust fumes into the sky and filling our nights with so much light that even the stars can’t compete. We’ve forgotten fear.”
I’m currently running a sale on all three of the Serial Killer Z books (discounting them from $4.99 to 99c/99p or whatever the equivalent is in your part of the world).
The sale really kicked off on Sunday and so far, the results have been great.
The dead man lunged across the road toward me, too-white teeth clacking as they chewed at imaginary flesh. Its eyes were sharklike black orbs, and they tracked me as I moved. Its right foot had been crushed and was dragging behind the zombie, slowing it down. Rancid breath laced with the smell of carrion and blood washed over my face and caught in my throat.
