Names for Blades

DEVIL’S PEAK – begin: here

The trees creaked, as if an enourmous weight moved on top of them. The sky was stilll bright but caught amber on the west side. We should hurry. No birds chirped. The longer we had our feet on the trail, the quieter the forest got.

I could barely hear Ennoia and Meme. Frank was right behind me, patting his side. Our breathing and our feet on the dirt were mostly the only sounds. As unsettling as it was, my rookie was gave me the wrong vibes. His mind was somewhere else. He moved far too cool, at least he should be nervous by now.

The skin on my nape burned. The thought that he had brought his hunting knife along, without telling me, was infuriating. I told him to talk to me, to tell me everything. How many times- wait a minute. Oh, hell. If he brought a nameless blade… This was dangerous.

Corona (1)

The bulk of “Corona” rolled under me. My sweet little rustbucket drifted away from the denser part of the junkyard.

Nothing had “easy money” stencilled on the side, like old-timey electronics that belonged to nobody. All the gold and tantalum just sat there, so lonely. “Keeps me searching for a heart of gold, and I’m getting old,” I sang under my breath. Oldies were the best.

The New Year of the Rabbit

The boat rocked heavily.

That made me trip, not the whiskeys, nor the pills or the beers. Cross my heart! The railing was cold and wet under my grip, and for a moment, I wondered if I should let go of it. The stupid pink rabbit ears slipped and went bye-bye. They took a dive into the big black hungry Hong Kong Bay. Maybe I should jump straight after them, and end this farce.

bruises

“I admit, it was a kneejerk reaction,” John shivered. We were both nearly naked and dripping wet. The dive I took into the frozen lake was an accident, and John did his best to rescue me. He had a conscience after all. It was his fault that I broke in, in the first place. So he pulled me out, brought me back to the mansion. The blanket I had on my shoulders started itching. I hoped his itched as well.

Postman

It was a proper summer day, sun laughing from the sky. In the afternoon, it turned sweltering.
The leather bag dug into my sore left shoulder. The chili dog from earlier rebelled, and pressure settled in my stomach. The weather made it hard to breathe. A sure sign, I was getting old, and tired after a late lunch break.
It never bothered me before, whether the heat nor the chili.
The Pied Piper ice truck lurched in the street. Its jingle drowned out the barking dogs. The ice cream was the second-best solution to this blistering heat. The best waited for me in my fridge, a chilled beer and five of its buddies.

Cliffhanger

The rock wall flew past. I clawed at it. The climbing harness dug into my thighs and waist, yanked me back. I felt Nick’s dead weight pulling under me. “Don’t let go!” I yelled, but a gust took my voice. I swung out of control.

Devil’s Peak

a Chuck Wendig prompt – Strange Photos /  Lily by Rudi Zygadlo / this is a WIP – a zero draft to get the characters, the plot and the end gets rewritten and posted again

Five minutes ago I hoped to drop the kennel cleaning into the rookie’s lap.

Then we got the call.

Dispatch told us to get the dogs and meet up, with the search party at Devil’s Peak. “Shit.” I instantly knew this was going to be a bad night. The rookie was going to have his baptism by fire. “Another kid?” I asked but didn’t need to. The calendar answered before dispatch could confirm. Full moon. “Damn.” The rookie got my gaze and stood up. “On our way.” I hung up.