by T S Paul
Larry Blazney looked up at the trees and shivered as he pulled up the collar of his worn sheepskin coat, hunching his shoulders. His thick gray wavy hair was doing nothing to keep his head warm and the wind was easily cutting through the dark blue flannel pajama bottoms.
"Damn, it's cold," he muttered, giving the leash a shake to make Happy, his old yellow lab, stop sniffing and keep moving. "If you're not gonna' go there, keep movin'," he said, his lips stiff from the cold. "Didn't need a coat yesterday, today I'm freezing my butt out here. Damn Richmond weather. Come on dog! You're trying my patience," he said half-heartedly. He didn't really mean it. Since his kids had grown up and moved out the dog was his pride and joy.
Happy was nosing the ground around the tall English boxwoods that lined the edge of the property in front of the neat gray Colonial. Larry gave a small jerk on the leash to try and make her start walking again. The large dog stumbled to the side for a moment and went back to the bush, burying her nose at the roots.
"What are you doing?" asked Larry, annoyed. He grabbed Happy by the collar and pulled her head toward him. The dog let out a low growl, her mouth shut firmly around something, as she tried to turn back to what she was doing.
"Oh, you think you've found breakfast, do you? A little road kill du jour?" Larry spread his feet wide and carefully grabbed hold of Happy's jaws, prying them apart till she dropped what was in her mouth. The dog was old but she could put up some resistance to hold on to food.
"That kind of thing'll make you sick, Happy."
A small bone no bigger than the tip of his finger with the faintest bit of flesh still attached rolled out and came to rest at the tip of Larry's shoe.
"What's that?" he said, as he gave the bone a small kick to make it roll over. He held Happy back as he picked up the bone with his gloved hand, turning it around to get a better look.
"What have you found, girl?"
He walked toward the bushes, still bent over at the waist and brushed the dirt away uncovering two more small bones, the same size as the first.
He straightened up, feeling an ache in the small of his back.
"Oof," he muttered, still holding on to the bone from Happy's mouth.
Larry startled as he noticed the man slowly walking toward him from the other end of the street just as a cold breeze suddenly blew straight into his face making his eyes water.
He blinked hard and looked at Happy squatting by the bush getting ready to relieve herself, and gave the leash a hard pull till Happy gave up and started trotting slowly toward the man.
Larry let the small bone drop not noticing where it fell, and started walking again. "Probably some new dumb gardening tip," he mumbled to himself.
"Morning," he said, as he passed the man. The man nodded in return and kept moving. Larry stopped and turned back toward him.
"Your car break down?"
The man turned and looked at Larry, a faint smile on his lips as he squinted in the early morning sun. He didn't answer and started to turn away.
"Your car? Wouldn't it start in the cold?" The man turned back again and faced Larry. Larry took a few steps toward him as Happy trotted to catch up.
"Not too many people exercise in such a nice suit," said Larry, admiring the open charcoal grey cashmere overcoat and polished wing tips. "You trying to walk to a bus line? Need to use a phone?"
Larry liked being helpful. He was raised on a farm just across the river and had never let go of some of the old ways even if he did sell the farm years ago to make way for a mall.
"No, have a cell phone," said the man, patting his jacket.
"Oh, sure," he nodded. "You must be new to the neighborhood. I pride myself on knowing everyone," said Larry, smiling as he offered his hand to shake. The man made no effort to extend his hand.
"Larry Blazney, I live right back there," he said, pointing over his shoulder from where the man had come from. "I'm the one with the purple door. That's how people give directions around here. Go past the purple door and hang a left," he said, letting out a small snort. "Was my wife's idea. Which one's yours?" He looked back toward home, trying to figure out which house nearby had recently sold. As he turned back he caught a glimpse of a leather shoulder holster.
Larry's face gave him away, the surprise obvious in his raised eyebrows even if only for a moment. "Oh," he said, as he quickly tried to get back his easy-going smile.
The man hesitated and looked pained for a moment before he turned away from Larry and gave a small wave in the direction of Pump Road, the main thoroughfare that would be busy in just about an hour with people heading to work, but was deserted so early in the morning.
"Oh, you have a ride," said Larry, looking at the dark blue Ford Explorer as it crept toward them. He felt a chill underneath his coat and a momentary fear passed through him. He turned to walk toward home, pulling on the leash to make Happy walk faster. "Come on girl," he whispered.
Larry's last glimpse of his quiet little neighborhood was of his neighbor Wallis, turning around and around in an upstairs window, looking down at the ground. He tried to cry out to her, make her look outside, but the soft leather glove clamped down over his mouth didn't let any of the sound escape.
A man in the front seat of the Explorer got out, pulling a handkerchief out of his back pocket as he bent down to scoop up two small bones. He wrapped them up tightly, pushing the small collection into his coat as he glanced up at the panicked look in Larry's eyes before his head was pushed down into the car. Larry was straining to see his purple door.
The man slid back into the front seat as he quietly shut the door, scanning the street for any movement.
Happy let out shrill barks as the car turned around and headed back in the direction it had come from. She chased the car all the way to Pump Road, the leash dragging behind her, but stopped at the edge and sat down to patiently wait. Larry had trained her to never try to cross Pump Road alone. It was too dangerous.
You can find this book as well as others in the series Here on Martha's Author Page
Finally!
The bonds snapped and my free hand immediately went to my mouth, pulling a long tube out of my throat. I could barely breathe around it, but I wanted the sweet release of breathing on my own. The tube ripped free, and "ripped" was an understatement. I coughed several times as action scraped and tore at my trachea, nearly puking as the pain of my action combined with a sudden sharp intake of air triggered my gag reflex. I fought it, having bigger issues to worry about.
I tossed the object off to the side and into the floor, straining my eyes to see. They were starting to focus, but the light was like the fucking sun burning into my retinas. Within moments I had the other hand pulled free. Some straps they were. I was able to break them rather easily. Then again, I was much more alert for the second one than I was for the first.
Instinct drove me to sit up, but that quickly turned into a bad decision.
The pain...
So much pain.
My hand wandered to my heaving chest, my breaths coming so fast and so harsh that I wondered if I'd ever calm down. What I felt shocked me. Mortified me. I wanted to scream, but I was too terrified. Something metal was embedded inside my chest. The entire cavity was splayed open as my fingertips brushed my heart.
My HEART!
I felt it. Warm. Wet. Beating.
I was, in fact, alive. I was alive in a hospital, to be exact. There had to have been a surgery. What was I thinking? I was split in two! Of course, there was a surgery! What had that doctor meant by pronouncing me dead?
"Time of death – 13:17." Those were words that I would never forget.
WARNING: This book is meant for audiences 18 and older. Language, violence, and sexual content.
You can find this one and others by Candy here on her Author page.
Family. Home. A future for your children. What would you fight and die for?
As a shift leader on Trinsa Station, Alis Krin has spent her life mining the asteroid's
living crystal, driving her people forward with sharp words and steely resolve.
They might hate her, but they can't call her unfair. Life was the best she could expect living on the crumbled edge of the Known Galaxy. The mines, the people, and the station were her entire focus.
When new overseers arrive and make it clear that they mean to destroy the delicate balance the Trinsans have maintained for hundreds of years, it is a shock. Discovering that their agenda includes working the miners to death to support a coming war, ignites rage. But how can the Trinsans fight back without power and resources?
Their battle assets are the mines and their resolve, their stubborn refusal to be used, abused and thrown away. Someone will have to take the lead and make a plan. Someone will have to find a path to freedom for the most isolated station in the galaxy.
Tested beyond her limits, Alis will need to call on every resource she can beg, steal, or invent to stand against an insurmountable enemy and lead her people forward.
The future of Trinsa Station depends on the woman everyone hates.
You can find This book and others on James Aaron's Author page here.