Leona stared, unseeing, at the small grungy duplex. Her eyes fixed upon the fading gray door and penetrated through the walls to her past. That night so long ago came rushing back like a tidal flood and nearly drowned her once again in the pain of it all. She could see the others—homies, out for a good time and looking for themselves. They couldn’t abandon her fast enough when the cops showed up. Continue reading “Become New”
The blast had damaged his spinal cord in the lower thoracic and upper lumbar regions. It left him paralyzed from the waist down. The doctor said the injury was complete.
He’d never walk again. Continue reading “Walking by Faith”
“They’re all empty,” Dan said looking down into the chest.
Dust particles swirled in the sunrays that shone through the dusty panes of the attic windows. The place looked like a thrift store and an antique shop had gotten married and taken up residence there. Aunt Maud had insisted on bringing him up to look at her “treasures”. Dan had protested. He was sure she’d never be able to make it up the ladder. He’d stood below, telling her not to be unreasonable and expecting every moment to have to catch the thin-boned mass of blue chiffon and bobby pins. Continue reading “Hidden Treasures”
“Logan, lights out; it’s time for bed!” Beth called out from the hallway.
“Yeah, I just have to level up!” Logan yelled above the noise blasting in his ears through the headphones.”
His thumbs moved furiously across the game controller. His avatar did his bidding on the screen and fought his way with a lightning-powered saber past an army of alien soldiers and a giant, winged, acid-breathing serpent. Continue reading “Level Up”
“Come on, Lucas, you’re gonna get caught.”
“No, I’m not; this firewall’s about as complicated as a Pop-Tart,” he answered, fingers flying across his keyboard. “I’ll be in and out before anyone knows I was there.”
Jackson shook his head as he watched the codes streaming down the computer screen. “Dude, this is serious. We could go to jail for something like this.” Continue reading “HACK3R”
I heard him before I could see him. It was the voice of Thomas Boyd, the octave of a freight train and commanding as an admiral. He didn’t raise his voice; he never had too. It was just that deep, authoritative timbre that told you the man knew what he was talking about and if you got in his way you were liable to get crushed like a grape in a winepress.
The man came around the corner, barged into my office, and commandeered the leather chair behind my desk as if it were his favorite recliner. Continue reading “How Much?”