Melody and Harmony: Page 4

Foster knew his survival depended on one thing, getting out of the back alley run he was stuck in. He sub-vocalized for a route back to safe territory and after a split second a green neon line drew an escape route. He followed the directions without question. The line directed him to the fire escape ladder that led up to a third floor balcony. He thumbed one of the buttons on his wrist control and his board elongated, straps shot out of the base and held the board halves to his feet. He scrambled on top of a trash bin and the wheels of his board flipped up to the top side so he could climb the ladder without getting them stuck.

The guards stopped and clambered over each other to be the first up the ladder after Foster. When he got the third floor balcony he unzipped a small pouch on the inside of his jacket sleeve and dropped a press button one inch wide by half inch tall by half inch thick explosive. It bounced off the ladder and fell into the open trash bin. The guards looked down in confusion and the explosive went off rocking the trash bin into the ladder knocking two of the guards off the ladder and one the rest into the alley.

Foster checked to see where the green line was leading him. He followed the balcony around the corner of the building and when he reached the end of the balcony the line went straight down. He looked over the edge and saw the road the line was leading him too. He was technically in the higher class slums, the hill he was looking down on was a road that led to the black market district. Hundreds upon hundreds of illegal businesses that no one cared about because the black market economy got more real business done for more of the population than the above ground consumer economy did. The hill was massive. Gravity alone would give him more speed on his board than his the on board engine could ever pump out. The only thing that worried him was what he would need to do to control that speed. Certain death behind him and very possible death below him. He considered his options for the eternity between two heartbeats and in the silence between songs, he jumped.

He thumbed the board control and it had returned to skating form by the time he hit the hill. He crouched low and focused on his balance and prayed that no people or cars came down the cross streets. The neon of the black market shops blurred by him in a multi colored light speed blur of electricity that he had only ever seen before on drugs. The green line was razor straight as he continued to pick up speed. He thumbed a control on his glove and checked the rear facing cameras on his bag. He saw that three of the guards had made the leap and were crouched into the suicide run maybe a hundred feet behind him.

The hill dove under an overpass and in the blink of an eye he was out of the black market district. The city opened up into an area that had never really recovered after the last of the great quakes. Foster saw that he was coming to a massive bridge that had fallen away in the middle. He also knew that there was no amount of speed he could have reached that would get him over the gap the green line had been leading him too. The guards cleared the black market district. Foster followed the green line.

He hit the bridge and it curved up a little arcing over the now dry river bed. He said a prayer to the Gods of Techno and pressed the button to expel the tiny accelerant canister to give him the last little bit of speed from the board. A split second later he was skating on thin air.

He pressed a button on his glove and front strap of his board let go of his foot and the back part of the board shot the front half like a grappling hook at the far side of the bridge. The board hit hard the wheels opened up and drilled into the road hard. The back part of the board quickly reeled Foster toward the other side as he began to lose altitude.

He checked his backpack camera again and saw the three guards guards had slowed to a stop at the very edge of the broken bridge. Foster pulled another explosive from his coat sleeve and threw it into the air behind him. It exploded and a pattern of fireworks created a skull and cross bones in neon blues and greens. The lead guard turned away from the symbol and the other two followed him to find a safe way across the river bed.

Spoonerville: Page 2

Denielle knew almost everything there was to know about her trip, she knew that she was landing at SeaTac airport. A name that literally meant “We are in between Seattle and Tacoma and couldn’t think of a better name”. She knew that Starbucks had originated in the State but most ‘true’ coffee drinkers considered it at best a last resort.  She knew the kind of car she was driving, the fact that I-5 freeway went north and south, west of that was water, east of it was mountains. She knew she would be taking her white Camry on a Ferry in order to drive another two and a half hours where she would arrive at the legendary town of Spoonerville.

The drive itself was really quite beautiful. Denielle had lived in Chicago for all but her college years and the way everyone built their homes and towns into the wilderness really spoke to her. Still there weren’t many places on earth that remained interesting after 2.5 hours of driving, the trees were beautiful but they were just trees.

The “Welcome to Spoonerville” sign was the first thing she saw and she pulled over immediately. She knew the sign they had made for the movie was actually smaller and less impressive than the real welcome sign for the town, a fact enjoyed by many of the Spoonerds. Taking your photo at the REAL “Welcome to Spoonerville” sign was considered a rite of passage for most of them.

She parked the car on the side of the road about fifty feet away from the sign, grabbed her cellphone and made her way to the sign. The movie sign was held up by two smallish wooden posts and was about five or six feet off the ground, and about five feet wide and four feet high. The real sign was maybe four feet off the ground, easily ten feet wide and ten feet high lit by lamps at night. She walked up to the sign and tried to find the right selfie angle to catch it and her in the same shot, which wouldn’t have been a problem if Quentin hadn’t been such a bastard. She took several pictures before she had one she was happy with.

She pulled up Facebook without thinking and the app let her know that she had no cell signal and no wifi in range. She sighed heavily and shoved her phone in her hoodie pocket and made her way back to the car. She’d post the selfie once she stopped for lunch. She got back into her car and saw the road sign letting her know that Quora beach was only nine miles away. Something in her mind liked the idea of seeing the ocean and that lunch could wait. She checked the clock on her phone and it was earlier than she thought, she had made good time.  She could feel the devil on her shoulder telling her that she never did anything impulsive and to live a little, the town would be there in an hour and she could have lunch just as easily then.

She started the car, threw it into reverse and turned right to head for the beach where the characters went surfing in the books.

Shades of Justice: Page 34

The Shades appeared in the command center. Dante was carrying Sonya’s unconscious body and her abdomen was a mess of torn fabric, and dripping blood. “Spark Sonya’s hurt bad, what do we do?” Kelly shouted.

“Initiate emergency medical systems.” Spark commanded the base. A Platform rose out of the ground for Dante to set Sonya on. Once she was on the bed a holographic overlay of her physiology appeared just above her. They could see her already slowing and erratic heartbeat, getting weaker. An appendage emerged from the side of the medical platform and the metal casing opened to reveal a laser. Which aimed at Sonya’s wound and began to fire short bursts of energy. As it worked faster and faster to close her wound her heart beat got slower until it flat lined. Kelly buried her face into Warrens shoulder.

Gordon kicked the bed. “DO SOMETHING!” He shouted in futility.

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Another appendage came out of the platform, its head rose barely above Sonya’s chest and the head quickly split into two haves and gave off pulses that made the heart monitor pulse for a beat and then flat line again. After six attempts the arm closed up and returned to the platform.

Dante ran over to Lumarion’s wall. “If there’s anything you can do, do it now. One of us basically saved your life, if you can, it’s time to return the favor.” He demanded.

Spark blinked a few times. “What I can do is forbidden for my race to do, it goes against the  na -“

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” Dante exploded. “DO IT NOW!” He punched the already cracked wall and cracked it worse, shredding the gloves of his suit and cutting the skin of his knuckles. 

Sparks light became brighter. “Whatever you say boss.” He blinked, before exiting the wall and in near instant beam of light shot straight into Sonya’s chest.

She raised up like she was possessed. Her eyes and mouth opened and pure white light poured from them light explosive fissures. She began to claw at her stomach and Gordon grabbed her wrists to keep her from damaging her newly repaired wound. Spark shot back to the broken wall and went dark.

Dante ran over to Sonya and she hugged him with all the energy she had left and she began to bawl hysterically. Dante looked at the wall as she cried. “Thank you.” He said.

The wall lit up slowly. “Swear to me that the five of you will NEVER mention this to Lumarion when we get him back.” Spark demanded.

Blood and Profit: Page 57

The flight to the testing facility was quiet. Mew couldn’t figure out why seeing the ring work would in any way make her more capable of helping them figure out how to get either of the last two controls to work but the entire colony was depending on the ring to get away from the wave. For a split second she was worried that the whole thing may have been a trap to interrogate her privately concerning Rusty, Toll, and the lost station but she couldn’t figure out what there was to gain by pumping her for information and decided fairly quickly that they must just be really lost in relation to the ring controls.

About an hour into the flight she had gotten bored with staring out the window. “Do either of you know who I’ll be working with?” She asked.

The skinny one put the cruiser on auto pilot and turned his chair around. “Once the aliens arrived and the senate became aware of the situation they tasked the Department of Satellite Design and Maintenance with regaining access to the ring.” He explained.

Mew nodded. “If there’s an entire department working on this, what do they need me for?” She asked.

The skinny one smiled sadly. “D.S.D.M consists of three people. Cordon, the head of the department and seventy four year old brains of D.S.D.M. His recently graduated assistant Brent, and Lucy their administrative manager.” He listed them off.

Mew was a little stunned. “Three people? D.S.D.M consists of three people?” She asked in shock.

The skinny one nodded. “You’re the fourth.” He said with a smile, turning his chair back around.

The cruiser cleared the mountain range it was flying over and they were greeted to the sight of the Colony’s capitol city. Mew had seen it from space often and never got tired of it, but as a civilian pilot planeside she had never gotten permission to fly this low and enjoyed the unique view of the oldest and most spectacular city on the planet.

They moved into standard transit lanes and made their way through the city, passing everything of interest quickly. They reached the far side of the city where the grand and fashionable architecture gave way to the boring simple utility of the industrial districts.

D.S.D.M was housed in an unassuming squat windowless building with a simple black and white sign to identify that the giant warehouse was something more than a storage facility. The skinny one landed the cruiser in the parking lot and Mew’s door opened automatically.

When they had left her father’s home it had been a beautiful sunny day, the weather in the capitol was heavy dark clouds that threatened to rain at any moment. As they made their way to the only door in the nearest side of the building a crack of thunder made them scamper a little quicker to avoid the coming rain.

The fat one shoved the door open roughly, the skinny one snuck inside just behind him and he turned to hold the door open for Mew. She stepped inside to familiar music. It was a recording of a band that Toll listened to incessantly. At first she didn’t mind his obsession but as time passed she did everything in her power to try and get him to play other music, none of it worked.

The music was being played over the intercom system throughout the entire building. They reached the end of the entrance hallway and the skinny one stepped up and held the door to the actual lab open for Mew.

She stepped through in time to see an old man in a worn and grungy white lab coat coast by on his rolling office chair. “No, we have nothing new to share with the senate. We’re still trying to figure out how to get the console to interface with any equipment we have that's even remotely functional.” The old man said as he spun and then kicked himself back the way he came.

The fat one huffed in annoyance. “It doesn’t look like you’re doing much of anything.” He accused.

The old man’s chair slowed, he rotated himself and kicked off again lifting a hand in the air and pointing to a bank of computers where his two assistants were working. One of the machines chimed and a robotic voice interrupted the rock band on the site wide sound system. “Integration test one hundred and twenty six unsuccessful.” The voice finished its sentence and the music faded back in.

The Doctor stopped his chair in front of the trio and sat up straight. “Like I said, nothing new to report.” He pointed to Mew. “Who’s she?” He asked.

Lidarion: Page 29

Haruff bowed once everyone had stepped onto the dock. “As I said, my name is Haruff, and we have much to discuss and further to travel in order to reach the library.” He turned inland.

Lisa stepped forward to stop him. “How did you channel my husband’s spirit?” She asked hopefully.

Haruff turned back and smiled sadly. “Even if he could have told me I wouldn’t have been able to explain it. Madam. I may have found peace of mind when I lost my eyesight but I was a warrior by trade and matters of the soul are beyond me.” He turned back around. Lisa nodded sadly as she and the rest of the group followed Haruff in to town.

Haruff led them to a small Inn. Once they were in the building Haruff sat in a chair at the table closest to the fire place. A young elven boy ran up the stairs and after a few moments came back down with a full cloth sack. He brought it to Haruff and placed the bag on the table. Haruff reached into a pocket on his robes and unveiled a small coin that he put in the boy’s hands. The boy ran back upstairs with a smile on his face.

 “What’s in the bag?” Squints asked as Haruff felt along the bag for the sting holding the bag closed. He found and pulled the large knot.

Once the bag was opened he pulled out a large leather bound book. “This, is for Lisa.” He started.

Lisa reached out and took the book from him. “What’s in it?” She asked.

Haruff shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m blind, and he didn’t tell me.” He smiled, reaching back into the bag. He pulled out a piece of rolled parchment. “Squint’s here is the map of the library. You’ll need it once we get there to locate the book.” He explained.

Trent interrupted. “If your blind how are you going to guide us to the Library?” He asked.

Haruff smiled. “Another question I cannot answer. All I know is that the only person on this planet that can get you to the library is me. I’ve never been there and I have no map of my own, but Brandon sacrificed a lot to make sure the contents of this bag reached you and that I was able to meet you here, and he told me that It was my destiny to lead you to the library.” He answered.

Trent scoffed. “It’s your destiny to lead us to a place you’ve never been and don’t know the location of?” He questioned.

Lisa loudly closed her book. “Trent I don’t know how to explain it but he’s telling the truth, he’s absolutely who he says he is and I am fully convinced that Brandon sent him.” She said with complete sincerity.

Brooke looked at the cover of the book but couldn’t make sense of the symbol on the front. “Lisa what book is that?” She asked.

Lisa lovingly rand her hand down the spine of the volume. “It’s Brandon’s war journal.” He wrote it for me in the sprit realm. He gave to Haruff and it is unquestionably authentic.” She said with a determined smile. “If you cannot trust Haruff, then trust me. We’ve had a long journey and it is just beginning. I’m going to get some sleep. I suggest the rest of you do the same.” She stood up with the book under her arm. And headed for the stairs.

Melody and Harmony: Page 3

Foster hit the outer airlock door hard. It budged just enough to let him know he could force it open with some effort. Effort he was willing to give at the moment. As he shoved the outer airlock open the inner airlock was being forced open as well. He got the door open enough to slide through, it clamped shut on his bag and had to yank it roughly past the door. He turned and ran into a waiting club guest. His eyes hadn’t gotten used to the fading sunlight and he dropped his sunglasses over his eyes which reset his headphones and restarted his music. The person he had run into was the contact that he was supposed to meet in the first place. He grabbed the guy’s jacket. “Give me the package!” He shouted in his face.

The guy panicked, he looked from Foster to the outer airlock door reopening, then back to Foster just in time to catch a fist to the face. The contact hit the ground unconscious and Foster quickly fleeced him for a small brown package pulled from an inner pocket on his jacket. Yelling from inside the airlock alerted Foster to the fact that it was time for him to go.

Foster pulled his minimized board off his bag, thumbed a button on his board control and by the time his board hit the street it was full size. He hopped and pushed the drive stick forward, taking off like a shot. By the time the club’s guards made it past the door he was half a block down the street. The club guards ran after him and in midstride rollerblade wheels popped out of their shoes and they rolled up on Foster in a six man mob.

The woman in the suit emerged from the airlock and looked down at Fosters contact who was coming back to consciousness. The woman knelt down and the first thing the contact saw was her poisonous eyes glaring at him. “What was in the package?” She asked with barely contained rage in her voice.

Fosters glasses showed him a rear view of the guards catching up to him. Each was wielding carbon fiber batons that were outfitted at the tips with any number of horrible customizations, be it electrified tips, or blades that came a quarter inch out of the baton and were several inches long. He gripped a gray plaststeel handle on the bottom of his jacket and pulled, revealing a strip of inch and a half wide that went ridged as it hit the open air. Once the cloth was completely removed he had a functional short sword.

The first guard reached him and Foster turned around completely to block the guard’s baton strike with his sword. In no time at all Foster is practically surrounded by rollerblading guards trying to stop him. Unable to fight all six guards He takes his board off autopilot with another button press on his glove control and rather than trying to fight the guards he uses the terrain of the alleys they are racing through to gain distance and single out the guards as much as possible for attacks. Its tiring work, and while the guards aren’t very good skaters or very good fighters, the cramped quarters of the alley way allow the guards to get cheap shots in on Foster more often than he would have liked. When he took a baton to his temple he realized there was no way he was going to win the fight and needed to escape the guards, of which none had dropped back even though almost all of them were bleeding profusely.

Spoonerville: Page 1

Denille had been a massive fan of the Blood Night series since the first book was published over ten years ago. She had signed copies of Blood Night, Blood Night: Hunt, and Blood Night: Lust. She would have a signed copy of Blood Night: Love, but the author, Geraldine Moore had unfortunately canceled her appearance at the national fan convention, BN:SF ’15. It hadn’t bothered her at the time however because Blood Night: Spoons and Forks was where she Met Quentin Todd. While he wasn’t a fan of the series his little sister was and he had taken her to every BNSF since it began in ’07.

She and Quentin hit it off almost instantly. They lived in the same city and had a natural chemistry that made her feel good. They moved in together just after BN:SF’ 16, and she found him in bed with her best friend the first night of BN:SF’ 17. He had had a ‘cold’ which he was going to try and sleep off so he could join her and his sister for day two. She had dropped his sister at his parents place and come home early because his sister wasn’t feeling well either and discovered his highly questionable cold fighting method.

Newly single, and free of a best friend Denille decided to take a trip she had been dreaming of since the first time she read Moore’s wonderfully quaint descriptions of Spoonerville. She had plenty of vacation accrued at work and had a savings account she had been building up just for this trip, which she had fully planned out every single detail of within thirty six hours of leaving BN:SF ’11. It was her first BN:SF and while she had loved the books, she had never considered herself a super fan until that year. Her trip notebook was buried in a box she came across on the weekend that Quentin had come to collect the last of his things. She was so entranced re-reading her own plans that she hadn’t even heard him try to talk her into reconsidering ending the relationship as she shut the door in his face.

She had printed out menus of the restaurants the characters ate at, practically memorized the layout of the motel they stayed in at one point in the story when Carol’s father’s home was burned down by an aggressive lone werewolf looking to get revenge on the tribe for forcing him out. She had bought a map of the area and cut Spoonerville out and marked the real life locations of every store, every landmark, and every character home that actually existed, and in the decade since the novels were released, there were more ‘real life’ locations than there had ever been before, and she was going to visit every, single, one.

She had had it planned for years, but Denille was finally ready for the vacation she had been dreaming about, to be come the best memories of her entire life.