Kzine Issue 13

by Graeme Hurry et al.

  Andy drew in a deep breath. “The system can’t handle constant use. You keep this pump running all the time, and Lake City down the road is gonna see flooding worse than ever. You’ll drive them clear out of town—”

  “Lake City don’t concern us. It’s every town for itself, now.”

  Andy scoffed. Every town for itself. He looked across the faces of the armed men and women. Fear and uncertainty lined their expressions. Their eyes shone with desperation. Fingers twitched against triggers.

  Doug motioned to Bobby, who ducked into the pump room. A moment later, the churning and grinding amplified. Bobby stepped out, gun in hand.

  Andy took a step toward him. “That’s too high, you’re gonna—”

  “Shut it, waterman.” Doug jabbed Andy in the ribs with his shotgun.

  Andy said, “You keep running the pump at that capacity and you’re liable to jam it.”

  Doug sneered. “The pump can handle it. Never had any problems yet.” “It’s twenty years old! They didn’t build them for this. Nobody knew it would get this bad, this quick. You run it like that, it’ll break. And once word gets back about what you’ve done, nobody’s gonna come fix it for you.”

  A murmur rippled through the congregation of townspeople. They shuffled their feet and exchanged sidelong glances.

  Doug spat. “Well, then, maybe we shouldn’t let word get back.”

  Bobby took a step closer. “That’s right, maybe—”

  A gunshot rang out, echoing down the waterway in waves. Andy blinked. Bobby looked down at his own gun in shock.

  Jessie whimpered, and slipped to the ground. Andy looked down. Blood stained her jeans at the thigh. She was clutching her leg, panting. The townspeople gawked.

  Andy dropped to a knee and tore off his sweatshirt. He knotted it around her leg with shaking hands. He had to get her out of here.

  Below them, metal ground against metal. The pump rocked violently against its bolts. Burnt oil permeated the air. The water around the concrete platform began to bubble. The water level began to rise.

  “What the hell’s happening?” Bobby’s voice was a vibrato of stutters.

  Andy looked up. “Pump’s busted.”

  Doug jabbed his gun into Andy’s shoulder. “Well get up and fix it, waterman!”

  Andy glared at him. “You shot this innocent lady! She’s bleeding!”

  Bobby hesitated. His eyes shifted this way and that. He stepped forward and pressed the barrel of his gun to Andy’s skull. “You heard him. Fix it.”

  The other townspeople were backing away, slack-jawed. Some turned and hustled toward the boats.

  Andy stumbled to his feet and into the small chamber. He scanned the console.

  He slammed his fist against the controls. The gauges were all zeroed out. The generator hummed nearby, but the damn pump was dead. Worse still, based on the pressure readings, the artery pipe must have ruptured. There wasn’t anything he could do.

  Bobby was shouting outside. “It’s higher than before, now! It ain’t gonna stop!”

  Andy bit his lip and looked around. He needed to get Jessie out of town. His gaze landed on the toolbox. He dug through his tools, pulled out a big crescent wrench, and slid it into the sleeve of his flannel. He pocketed the keychain and ducked outside.

  Guns trained on Andy. He stood his ground. “The pipe burst. It’s all over.”

  Doug spat. “Bullshit!”

  Andy pointed over the side of the concrete. “See for yourself.”

  Doug turned, and Andy slipped the wrench from his sleeve. He swung it in a broad arc, and caught Doug on the back of the neck with a loud thunk. Doug whimpered and crumpled to the ground in a heap.

  Andy snatched Doug’s gun on its way down. He swiveled it across the remaining townspeople. Their eyes widened to saucers.

  Andy said, “Your goddamned town is about to go under. What’re you doing standing here?”

  They stared, realization spreading across their faces. Then they turned and scrambled for the boats, leaving Bobby and Doug behind.

  Andy gritted his teeth. “Bobby, it’s over. I’m getting Jessie out of here.”

  The shotgun shook in Bobby’s grip. His eyes were bloodshot.

  “Bobby, please. You can still help your neighbors. I know you still care about them.”

  Bobby turned to look down the waterway. His gaze tracked the flock of boats darting through town. He lowered his gun.

  Andy tossed Doug’s gun into the canoe and lifted Jessie over his shoulder. He hopped into the canoe, steadied himself, then set Jessie down. She grabbed an oar, but Andy stopped her.

  “Just sit tight and mind your leg.”

  She nodded. Her face was creased with pain.

  Andy pushed off and dug the oar into the water. The water level had nearly reached the base of the pump station. Panic-laden shouts filled the air. Andy paddled toward the car park until his shoulders burned.

  A scuffle erupted behind them. Andy turned in time to see Doug stumble to his feet atop the concrete platform. Doug turned toward the canoe. “Shoot them!”

  Bobby stood as if in shock. Doug grabbed the shotgun from his hands and turned it to bear on the retreating canoe.

  Andy gasped. “Get down!”

  He flattened himself in the bottom of the canoe. A gunshot rang out. Wood splintered from the side of a nearby house. He sat up and glanced over his shoulder. Doug cocked his gun.

  Andy plunged the oar into the water. The second shot blasted a street sign with a loud clang. Andy hauled them around the nearest corner and out of sight.

  He didn’t stop paddling until they reached the car park. His heart pounded against his ribcage. The bottom of the canoe scraped against the asphalt of the raised lot. He stepped into the water and hoisted Jessie into the van. After a furtive glance back into town, he pulled himself into the van.

  The engine growled to life, and he spun around toward the highway. Water sprayed from his tires in a broad arc. He turned onto the deserted highway, hit the breaks and shut off the van.

  Jessie sat in the passenger seat, her leg propped against the dash. Andy slid off his seat and knelt by her side. He grabbed a knife from the glove box and cut the fabric away from her thigh.

  She looked down at him. “How’s it look?”

  Andy slid an emergency kit from beneath the seat. He tore out a length of gauze and wrapped it around the wound. “Bleeding’s stopped. You’re lucky, most of the pellets missed.”

  “Hurts a bit.”

  Andy snorted. “I’d wager. I’ve got some painkillers—”

  “I’m ok.” Mud clung to her hair and cheeks.

  Andy nodded. He slid back into his seat. The van fell silent, but for their slow breathing.

  Jessie turned her head. “You know, there’s nothing you could’ve done about Orlando. The floods took everyone by surprise.”

  Andy’s gaze sought out the photo on the dash. Rosy-cheeked and pig-tailed. He bit his lip.

  “Yeah.”

  He looked back in the direction of town. It was the same everywhere. The whole damned future took everyone by surprise. Those people back in Darbyville, they weren’t any different. They were just doing what was right by them. Trying to figure out how to survive another day.

  He reached for his radio.

  “This is Andy McBride, reporting an emergency. There’s serious flooding in Darbyville, Florida. An artery pipe burst and the whole town is going under. They need any help you can give them.”

  The line crackled and popped. “Roger, we’ll send emergency vehicles. What happened out there?”

  Andy looked at Jessie. She raised her eyebrow and watched him.

  “Old pipes. They just burst.” He switched the radio off.

  Jessie smiled, that big crooked smile of hers. It wasn’t one of those too-perfect smiles, like you used to see on billboards. Just a real, nice smile.

  Andy looked away. “Listen, I know a hospital not far from here that can fix up your leg. A
fter that, I can drop you off somewhere, if you’d like.”

  Jessie was silent, and Andy’s heart thumped in his ears. The scent of strawberries clung to his nostrils.

  She shifted in her seat. “Thanks. You think after the hospital, I can just ride with you for a while?”

  Andy looked at her. “Sure.”

  The engine chugged to life. Muddy water splashed against the van’s big tires.

  Jessie reached over and threaded her fingers between Andy’s. Her skin was grungy, but warm. Andy smiled, for the first time in years.

  Contributor Notes

  Jackie Bee was born and grew up in Russia, and now lives in Israel. Her short fiction has appeared in various Science Fiction and Horror magazines, including Sanitarium, Phobos and Fiction Vortex.

  Tyler Bourassa has a BA in Psychology, which was put to great use while working in the IT department for an insurance company. He currently resides in Saskatchewan with his wife and somewhat irritable guard cat, where he enjoys reading, writing, and slaying monsters in video games. His fiction has appeared in Liquid Imagination, Bards and Sages Publishing and Youth Imagination.

  Gustaf Berger has had three stories published previous to this one and has now been published on three continents. He’s still looking for an agent for his novels. Website: www.gustafberger.com.

  Derrick Boden is a recovering software developer that has taken up story writing to kick the habit. When not writing he is romping through New Orleans, or on another continent, in search of adventure.

  Maureen Bowden is an ex-patriate Liverpudlian living with her musician husband on the island of Anglesey, off the coast of North Wales, where they try in vain to evade the onslaught of their children and grandchildren. She writes for fun and she has had several poems and short stories published. She also writes song lyrics, mostly comic political satire, set to traditional melodies. Her husband has performed these in Folk clubs throughout England and Wales. She loves her family and friends, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Shakespeare and cats.

  Liam North always wanted to be a cowboy. He was born and raised in Canada’s Great Northwest. He learned to hunt, fish and trap at an early age. When his family moved to Portland, Oregon, he acquired a lasting love of the sea and ships. In his teens, he worked his way across the Pacific from California to China. At the age of 20, Liam completed a 1,700 mile solo trek from Tahiti to Tonga on a balsa raft using only the stars and sun as navigational aids. Since then he has been employed as a cook, a fishing boat captain, a bartender, an amateur boxer (14-4), a dive instructor, a beach bum and a writer. He currently resides in Arizona and is raising sons and learning to ride horses. The adventure continues.

  Graeme Hurry edited Kimota magazine in the 90s and a horror anthology called Northern Chills in 1994. Now he has branched out by editing this kindle only magazine, Kzine. He received an honourable mention in Year’s Best Horror 2001 for a story he collaborated on with Willie Meikle called The Blue Hag.

  Michelle Ann King writes science fiction, fantasy and horror from her kitchen table in Essex, England. Her work has appeared in various venues and anthologies, including Strange Horizons, Daily Science Fiction, and Unidentified Funny Objects 2. She loves zombies, Las Vegas, and good Scotch whisky, not necessarily in that order. Her short stories are being collected in the Transient Tales series, and she is currently at work on a paranormal crime novel. Find more details at www.transientcactus.co.uk .

  Steven Mace is a Horror, Fantasy, Thriller, Suspense and Speculative Fiction writer from London, England. He has published stories in a number of magazines and online e-zines: Aphelion Webzine, Diabolique Magazine, Roadside Fiction, Darker Times, SNM Horror Magazine, Litro Magazine, Blysster Press Crypticon Anthology, Five Stop Story, Suspense Magazine, InnerSins Webzine, Hellfire Crossroads, Schlock Magazine and Urban Story. To date, he has self published two fantasy novels, Copper Moon Rising (2010) and The Pirate Princess (2010); he has also self-published three collections of short stories and novellas, Beyond Twilight (2010); The Splendour of Shadows (2011) and Echoes and Exiles (2015).

  Dave Windett is a professional illustrator and comics artist, his work has been published in Britain, Europe and America. He has drawn comics featuring licenced characters including Inspector Gadget, Eek the Cat, Ace Ventura, Daffy Duck and Korky the Cat. For the Scandinavian market he has illustrated educational books, business manuals and comics. He has also designed original characters for a variety of publications and provided illustrations for everything from magazines and websites to mobile phones, games and children’s shoes. Some of his work can be seen on his website at www.davewindett.com, on his blog and on Amazon.co.uk.