Illusion of Safety

Aisha awoke to a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. It was probably just the fan again. She’d always slept with one on, and even with this power outage dragging on for almost two weeks it was still hard to sleep. She heard a noise from downstairs but ignored it, rolling over. It was probably Chairman Mao she thought, that animal was probably the clumsiest cat on the planet.

She felt a thump on the bed and glanced down to see Mao curling up at her feet. “Silly boy” she murmured “What’d you knock over this time?” Aisha froze as another faint thump wafted up the stairs.

As quietly as possible, she rolled further over in bed and eased open the drawer in the bedside table. Pulling out the loaded pistol inside, she remembered the key to the trigger-lock was with the rest of her keys.

Swinging her legs over the side, she padded silently across the carpet and slid her hand into the pocket of her jeans. She pulled out the keys, trying to keep them from jingling. She was focusing so hard on staying quiet that the unexpected sound of a door opening nearby startled her into dropping them. Aisha froze, listening to the sudden hush that filled the house. After an apprehensive moment, she slowly knelt down and picked up the keys. The tiny chime of one key hitting another echoed through the room, followed by the thudding of heavy footsteps running down the hall towards her. She desperately tried to find the right key in the dark. But before she could, a man burst open the door to her room.

“Where are the fucking benzos, Aisha?! Where are they?! They’re not in the bathroom! Tell me where you hid them!” he said, and lunged for her, spittle and rage flying from his lips.

Aisha jerked back, and brought up the gun. The guy… her neighbor? Didn’t even slow down, but instead reached for the gun and tried to yank it from her hands. She clung to the weapon, struggling to maintain her grip against his greater strength. She was a petite woman and knew she’d have little chance against him once the gun was out of her hands.

“Oh. No. You. Don’t. Fucker!” she panted as they struggled over the weapon.

Pushing against his grip, she heard the slide lock back into place. He did too and tried to fling her off the weapon. Her sweaty hands slipped, bumping up against the trigger lock. She clutched it and yanked back with all her slight weight. Aisha was astonished her to hear the sharp crack of the pistol going off, but she didn’t pause to question her good luck and yanked again as her assailant’s grip loosened. This time she was able to pull it from his hands and stumble back, shaking with reaction as he died at her feet.

The Five-Hundred Surprise

Kirra grabbed her mail and jammed it in her mouth while simultaneously juggling two giant bags and her keys. Finally through the apartment door, she kicked it shut. As she spit out the mail, she noticed the logo of the apartment complex on one of the letters.

“Crap, now what?” she said, putting down the bags and opening it. Inside, she was informed that the manager, Marjorie, would be coming on Friday to do the annual inspection.

“Well,” she said to herself. “That could be a problem.”

She headed back to the bedroom. When her last roommate had moved out, she’d decided to cover her costs by dedicating the extra space to her birds. She pushed open the door, to the soft cheeping of a couple hundred quail.

“I seriously don’t know where I’m going to stash you guys.” She said to the cages full of softball-sized birds.

The birds ignored her as she gathered eggs and refilled their feed. She had two cages of laying hens she could probably hide at her mother’s place along with the three little incubators. But the brooders and grow-out cages were going to be a problem.

It was only a day later and she’d just finished harvesting the largest of the birds. She was cleaning off the countertop when the doorbell rang. Peering out, her heart skipped a beat, it was Marjorie. She reluctantly opened the door, “I thought you weren’t coming until Friday.” she said, thinking of the birds she hadn’t yet had a chance to move.

“I had some unexpected free time, so I thought I’d come get it done. I’m sure you’d like to get it over with.” She said, stepping forward. Kirra grudgingly opened the door wider, thinking of how totally screwed she was. The best she could hope for was a chance to get rid of the birds and keep her apartment, but that probably wouldn’t happen.

The inspection of the front areas didn’t take long and Kirra’s anxiety grew as Marj moved further into the apartment. “Listen Marj, I really have something I need to take care of right now. Could we finish this up tomorrow?” asked Kirra in panicked desperation.

“Oh nonsense,” said Marj, pushing open the door. “I’m almost done, and you’re passing with flying colors.”

“Uh…” Marj stopped short. “Kirra?”

Kirra cringed, here it came. “I needed to make some extra money when Sara left, so I… did this. I covered up the carpet with the plastic sheeting, so it’s fine underneath. And there’s really no smell, and none of the neighbors have ever complained…”

“How much are you bringing in with this setup?” asked Marj, eying the room.

“About five-hundred a month?”

“Listen, I can’t let you keep doing this here. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” said Kirra with a sigh.

“I’ll give you the standard two weeks’ notice, but I have an idea. I have a rural property that’s a little more suited to this sort of thing. If you’re interested, I could let you have it for say, five-hundred a month?”

Prepared

Boston slid the last bolt into place and sat back to admire his new AR. It was the first one he’d built himself, and he took a moment to bask in the accomplishment. Looking around his basement hideaway, he took comfort in the pallet of MRE’s sitting in the corner and the fifty-gallon drums of water. He felt he was missing something important, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He shrugged, it would come to him eventually. Heading upstairs, he checked out the hazy window to see if his wife was home from work yet and saw the deputy’s car pulling into his driveway.

“Hey Mike,” he said, stepping onto the porch. “What’cha doing way up here?”

“Haven’t you been listening to the radio, Bost? The Mt. Asheville fire’s changed direction and we need everyone up here to evacuate.” Said the deputy.

He’d been smelling the smoke for days and it finally occurred to Boston what his hindbrain was trying to tell him. He had the bug-out-bag, what he was missing was the bug-out plan.

The deputy was still speaking “… we can give you 30 minutes, but after that we can’t guarantee your safety.”

“How the hell am I supposed to save anything in 30 minutes?” asked Boston.

“You’re supposed to save yourself, it shouldn’t take that long.” said the harried cop, getting back into his car. “You’d better hurry, it’s moving fast.” He added before driving off.

Boston ran back inside and grabbed his bug-out-bag. Running out to the truck, he threw it inside. Shit, he needed to call his wife. But the phone system just gave a message about call overload. He kept mashing at the buttons anyway as he grabbed her medication and some of her clothes. Glancing out the window he saw the thick smoke and sparks flying up from behind the ridge. He didn’t have any time left, he needed to get out. Running downstairs he heard barking from the backyard. Duke! In his rush he’d forgotten the damn dog. The smoke was making it hard to breathe, and he wasted costly moments as a coughing fit overtook him. Boston finally got the lunging dog free of his chain and dragged him over to the truck. He heaved Duke into the cab and jumped in after him. The smoke was thicker now and making it difficult to see, but Boston thought he saw the first edges of flame along the road.

“Honey?” he said over the phone, finally getting through. “I’m coming through on Ashford now. I think I’m through the worst of it.”

“Oh, thank God! Meet me at rally point two.”

“Wha-huh?”

“In your bag, I added a binder with rally points, an escape plan, emergency contacts… It was like, six months ago. Didn’t you read it?”

“Er…” said Boston, digging through his bag until he found it.

She sighed, “Turn to page thirty-two and follow the directions. I’ll meet you there.”

Entrusted

Denny hiked along, looking for the campsite where she was supposed to meet Jackson. It should be right here… But when the small trail ended at a lakeshore, she realized it’d been a while since she’d actually seen a trail marker. Denny shivered in a sharp gust of wind and stepped back under the leafless trees. Growling in frustration, she pulled out her map. Where the hell was she? There weren’t any lakes near the trail… Her heart pounded and she choked back the threatening panic. She desperately wanted to run back down the tiny trail, but knew she needed to contain her panic. Jackson would let the rangers know she was missing, she just had to last until they found her.

Looking out across the water, Denny noticed the dark storm clouds building on the other side. She managed get her tent up just as the icy downpour started and quickly crawled inside. Setting up her little stove in the vestibule she heated some soup and curled up inside her sleeping bag to relax. The trees tossed furiously around her and the rain pounded onto her fragile cloth shell. Eventually the sound lulled her to sleep.

Cold shivers raced along Denny’s spine startling her awake. It was pitch black inside the tent and she patted around trying to find her light. The floor was sopping wet, along with the sleeping bag and now herself. The rain must’ve soaked through while she slept. Her fear grew along with the chills, this was the worst possible thing that could’ve happened. Groping through the darkness, she grabbed her headlamp. The cool light eased her fears a bit and allowed her to think a little more clearly. The whole bottom of her pack was soaked through, along with most of her gear.  As she pulled things out to let them drain, she found the emergency blanket and set it aside. This certainly qualified as an emergency.

Denny shivered in her little tent, wrapped in the crinkly emergency blanket trying to stay warm and dry. By the time morning came she was exhausted, but she still needed to make a signal fire and dry her clothes.

It was three days before Denny gave in. She’d had to break through a layer of ice to get to water, and hadn’t seen anyone looking for her despite the smoky fire she’d kept going. Fuel for her stove was running low and her clothes were finally dry, if she was going to go, now was the time.

It only took two hours of walking to find the main trail, and Denny was able to hike out at the first trailhead she found. She trudged into town, and after a steaming shower and far too much food, she called Jackson.

“Hey Denny! I was wonderin’ when you were gonna show up. Sorry I didn’t see ya at camp, but something came up and I couldn’t get out th… Denny? Denny, hello?”

What I’m working on

Hey ya’ll. Over the Christmas-New Years season I won’t have many/any new posts up. I’m working on a collection of Flash Fiction stories that I can put up on Amazon, and since I’m not actually that fast of a typist it will cut into what I’m putting up here. C’est la vie. So starting in January, frequency will drop to something closer to 1 story every two days or so. On the plus side (for me at least) I should have some stories up on Amazon. They say that nothing encourages improvement like getting real-world feedback (like money), and I’m certainly no exception to that. I’d love to hear from anyone who’s enjoying my stories, what do you love about them? Or loathe? What themes have you enjoyed? Sometime after the New Year, I’ll probably throw up a weekly/monthly poll to make the feedbacking process easier. So Happy Holydays and a boisterous New Year!

Winning Idea

“Get out of here you creep, and take your shitty muzak with you!” yelled the coffee shop owner, hurling a stack of CD’s at the retreating barista. One rolled under the bench where Brett was sitting. But by the time he’d grabbed it, the guy was disappearing out the door. She walked over to his table.

“You probably want to get rid of that. I found out he works at the college, he’s been putting some kind of subliminal programming into the music.” She said.  “Said he wanted to ‘study the effects of brilliance on idiots’.” Brett froze in shock as the woman walked away. Up until a year ago, he’d been one of those idiots. Despite his passion for knowledge, especially science, he’d struggled with even the simplest chemistry. Now he was the front-runner in a contest to design an extra-solar rocket for NASA.

Brett glanced up at the clock a couple of days later. He’d spent all night at the lab. Again. He could feel the understanding he’d had draining away. The chemistry he’d thought was so basic a short week ago, now felt like an insurmountable obstacle. He stared at the CD in his hand. If he put it in the player and it worked, he’d secretly know he was a failure despite his success in other fields. Glancing again at the countdown clock on the wall of the lab, he sighed and pushed it into the player. The soothing strains of muzak filled the room. He only had one more day, and when this project was over he swore he’d throw the damn thing away.

After a quick shower, Brett hurried back to the lab. He was on the final run of his project and still had a few simple bugs to work out with the physics. Turning on the radio, his ears were assaulted by a wave of death metal. “God Dammit, Jason!” he cursed. Jason was known for two things, his love of death metal and losing things. It took almost 20 minutes to find where the CD had rolled under a cabinet of drying glassware. Brett dragged it out, and almost cried when he saw the giant scratch across the middle of the disk. “No. No. No!” he whispered, wiping it off and putting it into the player. “You have to work!” he muttered desperately. But it wouldn’t even play. After convincing the owner of the coffee shop to give him the guy’s name and address, Brett raced out there. But there was nothing, only an empty warehouse. He even drove out to the university looking for the guy, but no one there had heard of him either. The mysterious barista had vanished

The NASA contest was being judged tonight somewhere across town, but there was no longer any reason for Brett to show up. He hummed quietly to himself as the linked wormholes began to take shape in front of him. Thanks to his bugged rocket, he’d discovered something far more interesting.

Power Play

Evelyn cackled madly as she stirred the cauldron, she was going to make Bitsy Wilson pay for what she’d said! Leaning over the flames she sniffed deeply at the potion bubbling away, it was ready. She dipped the length of hair into the potion and reached for magic to fuel the binding spell, only to find it was missing. Groping around, she found some along the door jam, where it was trapped inside the house like dust. She searched further, all thoughts of Bitsy forgotten. All the power was draining downhill toward the West. All of it! If it continued, she’d be left with only blood magic and no one could control a whole village with that alone. Soon she’d be just another useless old woman on the outskirts of the village, with no respect and no power.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she snarled and hurried to her spell book. Desperately she searched for something that would explain what was happening. Evelyn felt a tugging sensation and stared as her amulets came undone. They were woven from the hair of those she magically controlled, but now she had to watch in horror as they fell apart. She looked around to see her whole cottage disintegrating, the fine furnishings flaking away to reveal their baser components.

That was when she heard the sound of chanting coming up the hill. It was the villagers, freed from her spells to keep them meek and subservient. Evelyn peered out the window, even the little priest was there, chanting nonsense along with the rest of them. They stopped in her yard and someone passed around torches.

“Evelyn Zunk, come out here and pay for your crimes!” boomed the mayor.

“Ain’t no crime defendin’ yourself from evil people,” Evelyn yelled back. “If’n I ain’t be bindin’ you, you’d be comin’ up here, jus like you is now, hatin’ and burnin’.”

“Liar!” squeaked the little priest. “It is against the will of the Gods to bind the minds of men!”

“Tell tha’ t’ th’ men tha’ ‘ttack’d me!” screamed back Evelyn, enraged. “I’ll see ya’ll burn fo’ hidin’ them wretches n’ lyin’ ‘bout wha’ happen!”

“You first, witch!” snarled the mayor. “Burn her!”

The villagers pushed forward with their torches ablaze, trampling her garden.  Realizing she was surrounded, Evelyn used all her remaining power to weave an escape spell. She watched, exhausted and enraged, as her home burned to the ground and the villagers danced in triumph. She had been driven from her home again and with her magic stolen, there was only one thing she could do. Pulling out the dagger at her waist, she slashed open her wrists and watched the blood gush onto the forest floor.

It took all her willpower to rip through the skin of her dying body. The enormous black wolf shook off the remaining shreds of human flesh and snarled toward the firelight, its eyes glowing red. It was time for a new beginning.

Mothership

He’d only meant to poke the damn thing, he hadn’t expected it to… swallow him? Whatever it did, now he was stuck inside with that weird metallic smell and those glistening sticky walls. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before, sitting alone in their cornfield outside of Vicksburg. Dave’s younger brother had said it was an alien spaceship, and he’d know if anyone did. Having a nerd for a younger brother meant he got told all kinds of crazy things, but right now he just wished Josh was here to tell him how to escape this mess.

Poking at the wall, Dave noticed a slight rumbling in the soles of his feet. The walls began oozing some kind of mucous and Dave was suddenly thrown to his knees as the ship lurched. It was taking off! He had to get out of here! Slipping on the gooey floor he ran through the twisting hallways, trying to find the entrance. Heading towards a light, he found an empty control room with a large window on one side. The slimyness was getting worse, oozing from the walls and slowly filling the ship. Dave was wading knee-deep through the stuff by now. Looking out the window of the craft he saw it was too late, they were already leaving Earth’s atmosphere.

“HAVE YOU COME TO JOIN ONE?” said a pleasant, echoing voice.

“No. Please, let me out. I need to go home!” called Dave, looking around wildly for the aliens. “I didn’t mean to mess with your spaceship, I’m sorry! Please let me go?”

“THERE IS NO SHIP. THERE IS ONLY ONE.” The voice rumbled.

“What? You’re… the ship… is alive?” wailed Dave with a sinking feeling. He realized that he was inside an alien creature. The slime was almost up to his chest now. “Please, I need to get out. I’m going to drown in this stuff!”

“NO. YOU WILL NOT… DROWN. POSSIBILITY: YOU WILL BECOME A PART OF ONE.”

“You’re gonna EAT me?!” screamed Dave. He waded toward the window, pounding his fists against it in terror, desperate to escape. “Lemme out!”

“ONE CAN NOT LET YOU OUT: UNDESIRABLE OUTCOME. DO YOU NOT WISH TO BECOME ONE?”

“Noooo!” howled Dave, desperately struggling to keep his head above the slime.

“THEN YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE COME INSIDE.” said the pleasant voice as the slime filled the room, closing over Dave’s head.

Dave awoke inside a warm slime-filled capsule, floating in space. He could somehow breathe the slime, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was safe, it had let him go. Through the transparent walls of the capsule Dave could see several other capsules floating with him around the ship. One twitched and burst, and he saw a tiny new ship erupting into space. Unnoticed, the parasitic larva attached to Dave’s back waited, soon the mother ship would no longer be alone.

 

Interchange

The half-grown Border collie whined and scrunched itself further into the corner of the pen. “I want that one” said Amy, turning to her father. “He looks like he needs a friend.” Amy didn’t have any friends at the new high school and Amy’s father hoped the dog would help bring his daughter out her shell. Becoming a host family certainly hadn’t worked, neither had pushing her to join the band. The young collie cautiously sniffed at her extended hand.

“Shadow, that’ll be your name. You’ll be my friend won’t you Shadow?” she asked as he wagged its tail enthusiastically. A week later Amy awoke to the sight of her beloved pet turning into a scruffy teenage boy by the light of the full moon.

Amy gasped in shock and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“No! No, please! If they find, they will hurt!” begged the boy in a strange accent, cringing away from her.

He behaved so much like her beloved Shadow, that it snapped Amy out of her shock. “Hide” she said firmly. “Under the bed. Now.”

Her father burst in, looking only half-awake and carrying a baseball bat. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Dad. I must’ve had a bad dream and woke myself up screaming. I’m sorry I woke you too.”

Her father sat down on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair out of her face. “As long as you’re okay. Were you dreaming about your mother, honey? The doctor said it’s perfectly normal.”

“No Dad. I don’t think it was anything like that. I think it was just a bad dream.” She said, smiling in reassurance. “I scared Shadow under the bed though.” She grinned.

Her father smiled back, “Well, I think I can understand that.” He said standing up. “Want me to leave the door cracked for you?” he asked.

“No, I think I’ll be okay now.” She said.

“Oh, and remember he has to go to the vet tomorrow.” Her father reminded her as he closed her door and went back to bed.

Amy sat frozen in horror as Shadow crawled out from under her bed.

“What wrong” he asked, worriedly.

“Tomorrow” she whispered, “The vet…You’re supposed to get neutered” She slowly turned to look at his horrified face. “Th…the… the city says all males have to be fixed by six months old unless you’re a breeder. And then you have to get a breeding license…” babbled Amy quietly.

“Like Hell! No one cutting MY balls” whispered Shadow vehemently and covered his groin.

“No! No of course not!” she agreed immediately “We just have to figure out how to do it.”

“You mean… you will help?” asked Shadow.

“Of course, you’re my friend. C’mon” she said and pulled on her coat. “When we get outside, run. I’ll tell them you ran away.”

“Thank you,” whispers Shadow as he shifts back into a dog “I will not forget.”

Two days later, a scruffy teenage boy follows Amy home. “Hello Mr. Webber,” he tells her father in a strange accent. “I am exchange student for new year.”

Chaos Multiplied

Jessica stepped back from the display and eyed it critically. Everything had to be perfect, her husband had gone to pick up the photographers from Beautiful Homes and she couldn’t afford for anything to be out-of-place when they arrived. In the letter telling her she’d won, they’d mentioned her beautiful display of heirloom teapots had been what pushed her into the winners circle. Looking them over, she noticed that a small Japanese one was slightly out-of-place and pushed it back with one precise finger, nodding to herself in satisfaction. She was tidying the already spotless living room when she heard a crash from the kitchen. Rushing in, she saw smashed teapots all over the floor and something dashing toward the dining room.

She gasped in horror, and took off after the thing. She spied it scurrying across the table, right through the middle of the glass place settings. She screamed in dismay and hurled herself at it, managing to grab a hind leg. It immediately whirled around biting and scratching her hand. She shrieked and dropped it, shaking her hand. It wasn’t a squirrel, it looked more like a… tiny raccoon?

Hearing a thump Jessica pounded up the stairs, slid around a corner and bounced off the wall, sending family photos crashing to the floor. Where was it? She paused, listening for the sound of scurrying. Silence. Tiptoeing toward her son’s old bedroom, she slowly pushed open the door. It looked like a whirlwind had hit. Clothes were strewn across the floor and the thing was rooting around making a nest in the middle of the bed. Sneaking forward, she grabbed a vase. She may not be able to grab it, she thought, but she sure as hell could squish it. Leaping forward, she brought the vase down with a smash. She missed the thing completely as it dodged to one side and turned to chitter at her angrily. It had bright black eyes and a tubby brown body, with a matching lid and a tail that looked suspiciously like a spout. Its stubby little legs didn’t look like they could move very fast, but they churned madly as it leapt off the bed and out the door. It was a teapot. Her teapot had come to life.

She screamed in rage and took off after it. That little monster was ruining her perfect home! It scrabbled toward the foyer, sliding on the hardwood. With a final leap Jessica tackled it just as her husband opened the front door. Sliding to a stop in front of the photographers with her suddenly inanimate teapot, she burst into tears.

After the crying jag, and making some excuse to the photographers, and the blowout fight with her husband, Jessica started cleaning. Moving from room to room, at long last she ended up at her son’s door. Pushing it open, she was horrified to find her husband playing with a dozen fuzzy little teacups with mischievous black eyes. He looked up and grinned, “Aren’t they adorable?”