Havok Publishing

Tag - history

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On the evening of June 20, the president sat alone in the Oval Office, reviewing intelligence reports. The peace talks in Paris were going well—at least enough to silence the protesters at home. His reelection committee had hit a minor snag, but they were managing it. As long as he could distract the public…

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The Inheritance

When I spotted Sarah Becker enjoying a meal at Luigi’s outdoor café, I ignored my better judgement and approached her. When she saw me coming, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Detective Jordan. If you remember, my charges over the Gode Tech heist were dismissed.”
I set down a yellowed photograph featuring a man wearing a suit…

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Between Heaven and Earth

6th June, 1944
Twelve miles from shore, we climb into the landing craft.
“Remember,” the coxswain warns, looking at each of us as we set out. “Save no one. We need manpower on the beach.”
No one responds. What could we say? None of us wanted to face the possibility of leaving our friends behind.

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Peace

You can’t eat morals. This motto had earned Abraham quite the reputation across town, meaning many shady characters ended up in his tent on darkened nights. When the work Abraham had done for his clients tormented his mind, he told himself one thing.
Scruples didn’t stave off starvation—money did.
And the fellow…

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Thus Always to Tyrants

The war had ended. Our side had lost. We were refused the rights we’d fought for. The government had cheated us, and I needed revenge. It was rash, but I didn’t care. People already saw us as traitors, but maybe this plot would change their perspective. Somehow. I assembled a group of…

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Maiden Voyage

“Need a seatbelt, kid?” Gregory smirked.
Robin loosened his white-knuckled grip on the handrail. “I’m good.” He’d expected a wild ride, but time travel was like a thirty-story elevator drop into the past. The machine even dinged as it swooped to a stop. While Robin waited for his vertigo to pass…

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Grounded

I pedaled furiously, squinting to make out the next turn by the beam of the flashlight tucked into my bike basket.
My mom would catch up with me soon, I was sure of it. Even if I hadn’t left the shoebox of old newspaper clippings and my scribbled notes from library trips strewn across my bedspread

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Unsinkable Heirs

“Isolde, listen to me!” My older brother’s grip on my arm tightens as he pulls me toward the staircase. “The lifeboats are our only chance. This ship is sinking, and we both know it’s not because of a blasted iceberg!”
I halt, making him turn. “Alaric, the passengers… They’re going to die because of us.”

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The Reasons I Cry

Morning’s pale light radiates through the cracks in the storehouse where I sleep, and I lean into the comforting warmth. The air is silent and still. Heavy with expectation. My stomach pinches in hunger and I tuck my legs to my chin, whimpering. Wait for the pain to pass.
Pain. One.

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Semper Fidelis

I’m late.
My sandals slap against the cobblestones as I hasten to my post. Scents of olives, fish, and fresh bread assault my nostrils. My stomach rumbles.
I stop at Clelia’s stand, a simple board set atop old barrels. She has the best takeaway food of anyone in the city.

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When the Fires Burn Out

April 27, 1986
The comforting notes of Babushka’s music box make my heart shatter.
What would she have thought, standing in her granddaughter’s shoes, watching the sky morph as radiation pours into the air? Even in the pain, I imagine she would’ve known what to do. How to help. How to make a difference.

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Reginald’s Saturday Morning Surprise

“Reginald!”
At ten years old, I was well-versed in my mother’s acoustic range and recognized this dangerous pitch. I peered out from under my covers—the clock announced “8:00 a.m.” in bright red. On a Saturday morning. Why was I already in trouble?
Panic pulsated through me.

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