Havok Publishing

Tag - medical

Limping Through the Apocalypse

When people warned us about the apocalypse, they never mentioned injuries. And I’m not talking about a zombie bite or breaking your legs or having a loose street sign fall and impale you while you’re trying to fish a Snickers bar out from the bottom of a drain… rest in peace, Donny.

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“You gave me a shovel for Valentine’s Day?” My wife ran a finger along its heart-shaped grip as she rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Jason?”
“I had it custom-made, Corazon, just for you.” I grinned. Her name means “heart” in Spanish.
Setting the tool gently back into its box, she said, “Snow isn’t even in

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The Proxy

Cassandra gripped the handle on the side of the launch shuttle to keep her hand from trembling. The target ship’s silver and white panels gleamed in the ocean of darkness.
At least I could swim in the ocean. In space, Cassandra would be at the mercy of trajectory, and it was no short distance

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Holding up the emerald dress, I knew it wouldn’t fit. Still, I slipped it over my head. The fabric clung to my shoulders like plastic wrap.
Nope. I tugged the garment back off.
When I’d been fitted for the bridesmaid’s dress, I’d been bone-thin with knobby knees and elbows. Thankfully, that was no longer the case.

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I stumbled, snotty and blurry-eyed, from the smoking building. I didn’t look heroic, but I had rescued the missing child. That’s what mattered. Especially since wailing firetrucks were only beginning to pierce the surrounding commotion.
Blinking back tears, I cradled the grime-covered toddler in my arms. Her small body convulsed in a coughing fit.

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“You are aware there will be side effects.”
I nodded but didn’t meet the study coordinator’s eye. I kept my gaze locked on my hands: the warped fingers, fused thumbs, and lines of surgical scars.
Lupus has side effects, too.
“You understand we cannot tell you exactly what those side effects will be.

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These Dark Medicinal Arts

The bullet whistled and bit.
Roland Chadwick, Deputy U.S. Marshal, pressed a scarred hand against his blood-soaked shirt and half collapsed against the hotel’s cellar stairwell. Gunshots resounded outside where a gang of hired guns patrolled the frontier town’s streets with revolvers drawn.
The marshal stumbled down to the bottom step, where gaslight illuminated

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The Voice of Cancer

“At least we caught it early.” I offer a box of tissues to Renee Halloway as we stand outside her son’s hospital room. When she doesn’t grab it, her husband John takes the box instead.
I hate giving bad news. It wrenches my stomach every time I have to say cancer.

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A Little Help from Above

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

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Dune Buggy Dash

When Dad took him out of school and drove two hours south to his favorite state park, Carl thought it was an early birthday present. When Dad strapped five-gallon jugs of water into the extra passenger seats of the rented dune buggy, Carl wasn’t sure what to think.

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