Havok Publishing

1970s

S2 Thriller Thursday featured image (season 2)

No Barrier Strong Enough

Jaelyn had considered slashing herself with the toothbrush shiv she’d fashioned. But if it were found on her it would be confiscated, and her venture would be over before it even started. The jagged rocks that formed the margin between the exercise yard and the camp’s caustic fog wall would have to do the job instead.

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Weary Dreamer

I think I’ve found him.
Once the awful dream fades enough for me to breathe freely, I search the skies and spot the blue star in minutes. Every night since I left home has disappointed me, but tonight…
Tonight, I think I’ve actually found him.
Surrounded by scattered trees, I wriggle out of my scratchy wrap

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A Ride Home

CAL! Get me out of here!” Walden screamed into his comlink.
The whine of blasters sent him scurrying around trees and jumping branches as he bounded through the woods where he’d landed that morning. At least CAL had the foresight to scan the local channels and had seen the proclamation. How the Lothean government knew he was here remained a mystery, unless his contact had snitched on him. After all, the bounty on Terrans was enough to make any poor sod give up his own grandmother.

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Identity

She turns as I approach. Girl in a tan hoodie with wisps of long blond hair. The way her hood is up, I assume she’s wearing an IdentMask, and I’m right. Black haze conceals her face. Her eyes are red, glowing Xs, and her mouth a sewn-shut line. It’s a cheap, basic mask,

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Stealer of Secrets

Thoughts flooded Adalai’s roving mind, most of which were not her own.
He said he’d be here…
…not a telepath. At least the one in the forest stays away…
No one will hear…
Adalai, sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, focused on the last voice

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Love’s Sacrifice

Arvin burst into the cabin. “We’ve got a problem.”
“And what problem would that be?” Salya knitted a few more stitches. “Has the goat escaped again? The cart hit a rut in the road and dumped the milk?”
Another overblown problem to add to the list.
“They’re back, Salya.” He shut and locked the door, and then yanked the curtains over the window. “I saw them in town.”

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Space Lanes

“Keerful with them chickens.” Jack McGuffin eyed Earl warily as he loaded up the final crate and closed the cargo hatch of the Mud Runner. “They’re priceless, you know.” He clasped my hand in his gnarled claw. “Swiped their mother from a giant back in my youth.”
I nodded politely, ignoring his senile ramblings. It’s bad business to upset a customer, especially one paying so well.

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The Devil Tries Again

I stroke the strings of my finntler as I set it up under the burning lights of the spaceport overhead.
I reckon the best way to describe a finntler is it’s mighty like a xylophone, ‘cept with strings. That and it’s my life on a table. I’m just a boy, but most cain’t mimic the way I play. Travelers passin’ by throw coins. A few stop to listen to the music; my regulars clap along, whoopin’ and cheerin’ as I finish.

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To Con A Werewolf

This city was no place for a werewolf.
The sound of heavy boots thundered behind him, and Clawson Fangsworth dodged down a dark alleyway. His bare, hairy feet squelched in a puddle of questionable substance. There was the filth, for one thing. On all fours, any werewolf worth his silver bullets could outpace a copper on his tail

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