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July 28, 2014
#11 is now available for download. Just right-click on the image to the
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by Diana Corbitt
threw him an easy lob, seventy tops, and my jaw dropped. Watching Obby
catch a ball was like watching a praying mantis snag a
Obby ignored me and looked at the radar gun. “Not
bad for starters. You hit ninety-six.”
“Ninety-six? Seriously? I thought I…” This vampire
thing was looking better and better.
“And forget about pulling a muscle, Kid. You
can’t do it, so let’s quit fooling around. As my old friend, Satchel
Paige, used to say, put a little mustard on it.”
Okay, if he wanted mustard, I’d give him
mustard. I reached back and gave him all I had. The ball surged
forward, smacking Obby’s waiting hand into his chest with a crack that
echoed across the field and knocked him backward into the dirt, sending
the radar gun flying.
Holy shit, had I killed him? Had the ball
actually gone into his chest?
I stood there, unsure of what to do. Calling
911 didn’t seem like an option, and I didn’t know any other vampires. I
trotted across the grass to find a flat on his back Obby grinning up at
the stars. He sat up, flexed his hand, and reached across the dirt for
the radar gun. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, one-seventy-four. It
put a nice little tingle into my fingers, and I didn’t have to move the
glove one inch.”
“One-seventy-four?” I slammed my glove into
the dirt. “Hell, yeah! Let’s go again. I bet I can get it up to
one-eighty, or maybe even two hundred.”
Looking half as pleased as I expected him to,
Obby dropped the radar gun and walked over to me. “Tommy, you know you
can’t throw that way in front of people.”
by T. J. Koll
In time, he fell asleep at the kitchen table,
but he woke up only an hour or so later. With eyes still shut, Garrett
raised his head--snorting, coughing, and finding it difficult to
breath. Something was clogging his nose, and in his still foggy mind he
wondered if he’d caught a cold. As his hands moved to smear away any
drool or snot on his face, however, he discovered something far more
horrifying: a cable, connected at one end to the box, was protruding
from his left nostril.
He jolted fully awake, panicking, and tried to
yank it from his nose, but the cable was deep and refused to budge.
Grunting, terrified, he tried again to pull it out, but a bolt of pain
through his head quickly convinced him to stop.
“Stay with me,” buzzed a voice from the
device, though this time it sounded feminine and was almost a whisper.
by Holly Day
“Welcome to Jurassic
Colorado,” said Bridget,
glancing down at the note card Dr. Scheul had slipped into her hand
just as she and her first group of the day reached the Box. She could
barely make out his handwriting. She folded up the card and put it in
her pocket. She would have to wing it. “How many of you kids have been
to Dinosaur National Park in Colorado?”
Five or six little hands shot up. Bridgett
smiled brightly at the group of kindergartners trailing her, a couple
of bedraggled-looking teachers in tow. “I’ve never been there,” she
confessed. “Did it look anything like this?” She pushed the button for
the door and stepped into the Box, praying there would be a dinosaur
waiting for her this time.
There was. A herd of five or six sauropods
stood chest-deep in water, bright green strings of pondweed hanging
from their mouths. It was incredibly picturesque. “Thank goodness,”
Bridgett muttered to herself as the school group filed in behind her,
shrieking and cooing with delight. She would have to stop by the Doc’s
office later to compliment him on his selection of the site. The gift
shop would be swamped with kids looking for a plastic Barosaurus to
take home with them after today.
by Felicia A. Lee
"Crazy Miz Ellen
locked herself in there, like
Earl told you. She starts screaming and yelling all sorts of stuff
about hell and the devil and stuff, and her kids were still in the main
part of the house with Miz Ellen’s brother – your
great-great-something-uncle. Earl didn’t tell you that part?"
I shook my head. Maybe Earl didn’t know this
"Anyhow, Brady goes, Miz Ellen goes on
screaming and yelling for about a week –it’s a wonder she kept her
strength. Then finally she starts screaming she wants to see her kids,
but she still won’t come out or let anyone else in but the kids. So
they send the kids in – don’t know what they were thinking. Maybe they
thought it would calm her down. Well, it didn’t. Soon after they get in
there, she locks the door behind them and soon they’re screaming and
yelling Stop hurting me Mamma, stop hurting me Mamma and stuff. Then it
was all silent. Like scary silent.
"So they break down the door, Brady says, and
sure enough, find the poor kids dead – tortured then strangled. It was
pretty ugly – among other things, she’d poked their eyes out."
Then I remembered Skeeter’s drawing. Holy crap.
"Yeah, and ol’ Miz Ellen poisoned herself
too," Brady goes. "But here’s the worst part – wait, no, if I told you
Earl would kill me. And trust, me, you’d rather not know."
Then the waitress puts my pancakes in front of
me. They looked really good but now I didn’t feel like eating. God, how
could that story possibly get WORSE?
THE DEVIL CAME TO ME AND BID ME SERVE
by Douglas Lind
Turning her attention to the congregation at large she drew deeply on
her pipe, exhaled and began speaking low and clear.
“I’m gonna tell you something my mamma
told me. Something her mamma told her. A story going so far back
nobody knows when it began. None of you are natives to these parts.
None of you. Long before you all were ever thought about, this land
carried a horror you never dreamed of. The Pestilence, as the savages
came to call it, raged for years and years. As the weekly toll of the
dead rose, parents implored their children to scatter throughout the
hills in the hope that some would be spared.”
Pausing to take another drag she shrugged her
shoulders and continued.
“But there was no place for them to go. You
can ignore the summons, but you’ll just get marked. And in Its pursuit,
the Pestilence knows no boundaries.”
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