fiction
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Marin Goranich wanted to be an artist. The Great Depression saw to a different profession: fish trawling. When a hurricane destroys the cliff face he lives on, Marin encounters a wounded merman. In trying to save the creature’s tail, the would-be artist learns the hard way that he may be a little more fish than…
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Ever taste copper? That cloying metal viscosity that tells you pain will soon follow? Or maybe that charcoal burn taste of ash on your food when you’ve grilled it? I despise that taste. I crave it.
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Well toward midnight, the group came across a shallow hole in the side of a hill that led into a stump of a cave. The group collapsed at the edge of the darkness, neither eager to bury themselves in pitch-blackness nor be left out in the open.
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Hana woke in fits and bursts. An hour after settling into the room, the group grew restless with her starts. The woman was jittery, which placed their wolves on edge.
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In the morning, the friends found themselves not in warm beds but in a freezing tent. Their body heat seeped out through the thin shell of second-hand polyester. Benj, first to wake, tiptoed out of the tent, letting in a draft.
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The trees that surrounded the area loomed over the site like ancient guardians protecting their tiny treasures Nat and his friends hunkered down into the snow-covered grass, bracing themselves against the chill wind that blew in from the north of them. It smelled of wood smoke and burning gas.
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Deck dragged out his hiking bag and bug-out bag and crammed two more sets of clothes into the bottom. Pilfering the back corner of his closet, he located the four-person all-season tent and sleeping bags.
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The Grey Monster has led to a global apocalypse. Nat and his group of friends wake to a hellscape when a bioweapons bomb drops in the Jenton orchards. Wolves crawl beneath their skin, and a genetically engineered religious cult decides they are demons worth hunting. Can they find a mad scientist in time before the…
Chapel Orahamm 