skies
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They were able to locate an old map of Florgia, long-forgotten behind a convenience store shelf in Pensacola. It proved to be useful in getting them past Tallahassee and Gainesville. Their anticipation and fear rose as they passed by Ocala on 75. It had been completely decimated from incendiaries. Fear prickled as they wondered if…
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Yeller opened the door to the townhouse as the first rays of the sun cast hot pink and orange streaks on the low clouds. The beginning smell of decomposition wafted into his sinuses. He looked down at the doorstep as Sven rubbed against his leg. They stalled. On the doorstep lay a dead fox, its…
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Yeller drew in a muffled gasp, almost dropping the rope in his hand. “This won’t be a good thing, Nat,” he protested, trying to return the equipment. Nat took the bundle, his heart fluttering. Maybe it had been too much to ask after all this time. Yeller pulled him back into a hug. “Why?” Yeller’s…
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Dallas went on forever. The suburbs started almost at the edge of the state line and made for a never nearing horizon.
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It was still early in the morning when Yeller emerged from the room with his pack. Sven followed behind him, his chest and shoulders wrapped carefully. The others had already laid out their packs and had shifted. Dietrich cocked his head at Yeller quizzically but didn’t press any question. Tereza’s Heat was still smothering. They…
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Yeller emerged from the bedroom and flopped down in the living room. He was tired in a content way. The sun slowly burned off the clouds. It cast harsh golden shadows through the slats of the blinds, illuminating the dingy interior in brilliant oranges and browns. Yeller glanced out to watch the rising fireball against…
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The sun had yet to bathe the horizon in its blanket of midnight blue and lavender. Snow plopped on the tin roof, creating a new patter to the sleet from the night before. Nat woke to being at the back, Sven forward in his wolfish form.
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“Yeller?” Nat asked, shrugging out of his hold. “Sorry,” Yeller mumbled again.
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He had been fighting off the pain as best he could. It was about the witching hour when he succumbed to it. Laying still was the best way; curling up, movement, it all tingled, sending saw blades of electricity through his system. God, this power mark is going to kill me. He told himself, gripping…
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Yeller stood out in the dim hallway. It was all he could do to bring his raging body back under control. He cursed out Cashia, swearing he’d get vengeance. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could handle. Trembling, he leaned his head against a door jam and listened to the light chatter…
Chapel Orahamm 