“You said to come in if there was any more trouble. And we are way past that!”
Paula tapped her pen against her pad, adjusted her glasses, and looked at the man and woman sitting opposite her. She had dealt with many parents in her long career and was accustomed to encountering families in the strangest crises.
Forin would do it this time. Master the All-Gate. And prove his father’s doubts wrong. All the other Gates were limited, only allowing travel between two specific worlds. Heck, sometimes you had to travel thousands of miles just to get to that world’s Gate. The All-Gate would change that. Forin could think of a place,
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Kae shifted in her seat as the dean of the Academy squinted at her over his spectacles. “Miss Ruve, it is highly irregular for you to request an audience instead of submitting an application form.”
Kae hesitated. “My ability is… unusual.”
“What exactly is your ability?”
“I …” Kae cleared her throat, which felt strangely tight.
“Glad you’re here, Miss Morgan.” Detective Eastwood handed me a coffee.
“Thanks. And I really do prefer Rose.” He grinned as I accepted the warm paper cup, telling me he’d ignore the request.
I took a sip and stepped into the victim’s living room. I grimaced at the coffee’s sour taste,
The figure didn’t show its face. Just stared at me from the void-like eye cavities of a ghoulish white mask. “Don’t be afraid.” The mask distorted its voice, and I trembled. It stepped toward me then crouched to my level. “You’ve lost much, lad.”
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After the long cold of winter, the sun’s warmth felt glorious. I knelt by the river to refill my pot, the water chilled by mountain snowmelt. Nearby, the other village women were washing clothes, their children playing beside them.
“Siv!” Fulla smiled at me from the knot of women. “Good to see you up and about
The Main Event: Me versus Sea.
A fight to the finish—probably mine. My opponent is the ocean.
Water’s a liquid? Tell the riptide that. Solid as a giant’s fist, it hauls me farther out every second. To defeat me, the riptide doesn’t drag me under. It doesn’t have to.
His journey had been long and treacherous, but Cheddar had found it. An oasis, untouched by man, vast and plentiful. The wasteland of legends. A sprawling pile of rotten garbage more beautiful than all the dumpsters in Manhattan the day after Thanksgiving.
The Great Trash Barrier Island.
Cheddar the Rat wept at its filthy glory.
Kylie burst through the door so fast that her palm stung from the impact.
The rooftop lounge was empty.
Of course it was. No one ever came up here this time of day—or at least no one was supposed to. But now, not even Tom was sleeping in his favorite Adirondack.
Late again, late again.
Andrew Ashton rushed from his parents’ two story, cookie-cutter home, his Converse sneakers scuffing the sidewalk. He struggled to hoist his backpack on, and the straps slid against the nylon of his bomber jacket. He frowned. Everything was harder since the accident that had taken half his left arm.
I whistled as I stepped from my house. Per usual, I was clad in my nano-suit, a second skin to protect me from harm. You couldn’t see it—to most eyes I looked like any kid walking the street. Well, any kid in a trench coat with goggles perched on his forehead.
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The flower opened silently. Unremarkably. Alone in the forest’s center, right where I’d planted it. Beautiful. Unnoticed. Deadly.
Smiling, I crouched beside it. They’d never suspect this. Those humans were too busy worrying about World War III, global warming, and zombies to stop and smell the flowers.
Their loss.
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