JukePop Serials

Jasper knew what he had to do and maybe if he did it first others would join him. He wriggled free from the hands that grasped him and stooped to the ground and grabbed a stone. It wasn’t big, but it would break the mirror, he knew it. He flung it and the stone sailed straight at the mirror and then hit the glass with a resounding thwack. The crowd seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the precious mirror to shatter. But nothing happened. The stone bounced off the glass and fell to the ground, and there was not even a mark on the glass. Then a guard pounded his armored gauntlet across the back of Jasper’s head and the boy fell to the ground, his head filled with pain and his eyes filled with tears. The crowd laughed and the festive mood was about to begin again but suddenly the crowd grew silent as another figure entered the square. She was an old woman, small and bent, a gnarled piece of wood her walking stick, her clothes simple, brownish in color. Slowly she came to where the mirror was.

As he glanced across the kitchen to Josè Placido, who was frying a fresh batch of The Honcho’s Cheesy Hash’m Browns, (trademark) and looking back at him with a knowing gleam, Frank stifled the urge to crack up in a fit of nervous laughter. The A-shift crew had only been planning the impending assault since Monday morning, yet Frank simply couldn’t shake this feeling of supreme confidence. It was as if everything was almost certain to go off hitch free. The suddenly steely, ice-cold expressions on the faces of the Haxton girls, delivered in eerie unison, only bolstered this confidence, as the velvety smooth drive-thru microphone persona of Tommy Spikes burnished the sharp edge from the proceedings. “Good morning, and welcome to breakfast at The World Famous Head Honcho,” he delivered, in his ultra mellow late-night F.M. deejay voice.

Once I had chosen the direction to continue in, the water heated up to a delightful bath temperature, as if it was congratulating me on making the right choice. If only I had the cup of tea that I had left on my bedside table before leaving for here, then it would have been perfect, however I sensed that there would be much to explore on this tiny island that was mine. As I made my way out of the water, my toe banged into a tin that was half way buried into the sand, the other half sticking out. Naturally I opened it up, and found my cup of tea from my bedside table sitting waiting for me; the same temperature and a biscuit beside it sitting on top of the magazine that I had bought at the start of the week.

Heavy and stale in the air to her aging nostrils. And not just any magic. It was old and thick, rich with the early memories of her youth. And deadly. It had been . . . more time than she cared to think about, that she had felt this way. It was not just a lifetime ago but a whole different world away, when she last felt the tang on her tongue and the sting in her nose. As old as she liked to make herself look to the eyes of the local villagers, she was even older than anyone could have guessed.

When it was large enough for a man to fit through, it was finally noticed. The first person to see it saw the air around it rippling like water after a stone is thrown into it. On the other side , looking like a moving painting floating in the air, he saw deformed trees, black soil, and the clouds. Apparently, he gaped in wonder for some time, then tried an experiment when his wits returned. He picked up a large rock, and threw it at the portal. It skipped over the black soil of Gloom.

The divorce proceedings having been completed, with an overlying sense of finality behind them, I left my parents’ house in Fargo while they were still in bed. It was definitely for the best. They had never accepted my shift to the political left, nor had they condoned the people, books and issues that I had eagerly embraced as my own. Which was why I had finally resorted to the divorce. It was now simply a matter of finding a new home base- as far away as the $800 I had saved up would take me by bus. Fortunately, I had already had a decision made for me. The night before, I had received a promising message on my private Twitter account. It said: HAVE BEEN OBSERVING YOU ON TELEVISION. WANT YOU TO WORK FOR US AT GOOD SALARY. COME TO WINNIPEG IMMEDIATELY.

He tried to get up, but something held him back. He saw he was lying in a bed, his wrists and ankles leather-strapped to the metal rails on either side. “Ah, ah, careful there. You’re attached to an IV drip. Otherwise known as your dinner. As for the straps, I assure you they’re not meant to make you a prisoner. They’re merely a safety precaution. We don’t want you falling off the bed now, do we?” He lifted his head as far as he could and took in the room. More than a hospital, it appeared to be some sort of laboratory.

A child, she realized. Shaking her head and then remembering herself, she looked around to make certain there was no one else around to see. Satisfied that the clearing and woods were empty of all but the standard woodland fare, she moved slowly over. She removed her gnarled hand from her pocket, devoid now of its string, and reached down. “Cem now, chiel,” she said as softly as she could. “Lets gat ye in forn ye ketch semthan.” Gathering the youngster up with her free arm, she used the other holding the stick to steady them both. As she did, she saw its tear streaked and dirty face of a young boy. And eyes that were like the reflections of a crystal clean lake or a midday cloudless sky.

Lucy was a like a little ray of sunshine in their lives the day she was born. And for the best part her birth had helped ease Mia’s guilt and anguish over her deception. If Andy knew the truth it would destroy him….god knows the truth had almost destroyed her! Those first moments when she felt Adam growing inside her she had an over-whelming urge to protect him and love him. This had made her decision to deceive her husband and everyone else an easy one. She shuddered as she recalled that horrific night…a night which almost killed her physically and mentally. A night that would haunt her for the rest of her life…the night her son Adam was conceived.

It was hard going. The slopes were little more than unstable scree and broken rock, and in the darkness it was almost impossible to be certain of a good footing. There were no stars, and a blanket of heavy cloud hid the twin moons. The only point of reference was the flickering firelight above, growing closer with each uncertain step. Ulthric’s body was in mounting agony, the pain of his injuries becoming more apparent as the night’s cold ate into his bones. As they climbed he wondered whether the only reason Saarl had chosen him was because if he’d been left behind Vega may have finished what he’d started. He felt shamed and angry, as much with himself as with the rest of the pack – he’d sworn he would not lose control again. True, the full shift hadn’t occurred, but it had been close. He had felt the wild savagery of the beast just below his skin, fighting to be free. He could feel it now, that accursed itch set off by the prospect of bloodshed. The beast within was sullen, biding its time.

Tapping the dash with my heel changed the current playlist to match my heartbroken mood. Music came with humanity, but to find all the bands that I am familiar with whilst sailing the deep dark seas in an alien ship bewildered me to no end, despite knowing how the music got here. “This is how…you remind me.” My first cue to slow the drink down is the monotonous song to an audience of none. A fine respite from boredom is talking aloud, no matter how witnesses would guess at insanity. My only witness happened to be an alien intelligence, created by another alien and subjected to its moods and desires. Both aliens knew me to be a primitive relic of relatively complex organic organization.

Long flags of bright cloth draped the towers, the beginnings of the full-on decoration for a royal wedding. Then he tugged and the lion-bird roared again and pulled up. High above the city, up past the rocky cliffs, then out the opening in the rocky roof above. It was more feeling than look that let him know he was above the rocky hills, above the caves, and headed out toward the deserts that lay east. The winged cat swept down, tracing the empty washes that led away from the city. Little to see, especially on a dark night, but he loved the flight.

“I am aware when things will die. The path the living take through life can be seen as an absence of my presence.” He settled down in front of Rhizo. “I wish to know about you. Why were you the only one injured?” “I spotted the weasel first. Just lucky I guess. I was grazing near the kits earlier today. I wasn’t the watch member on duty. I wasn’t looking for predators. I just glanced in the right place at the right time.” Rhizo flattened his ears to his head. “I had the choice, stomp or run. I chose to stomp.”

Slow down. She had a crooked smile, wondering if he was aware of his own words. She was about to ask if rushing back could be considered a way of slowing down, but she held her tongue. Thord could kill if he pleased and she was about to become a witness of the worst deed one could ever imagine – and her skill was wonderfully useless to him in that very moment, even if she would make sure he didn't know it. She followed him until he stopped in the middle of the corridor. It had already turned, so they were right before the assembly room door. What was he waiting for? “Thord.” She called, keeping her voice as down as she could. Thord didn't seem to be hearing her. She dabbed his arm and felt him swinging on the spot as if in trance. “Thord. We're here. It's time. Do what you have to.” She whispered softly, and he swallowed fearfully.

‘You know, Vince, most guys our age use the Internet for porn,’ myself included, I elected not to add. He dropped his sandwich and reached into his ever- present satchel. He pulled out a Pee- Chee stuffed with paper and laid it reverently between us. I pushed the rest of a cookie into my own maw and picked up the folder. Data. Schematics. Handwritten notes. Half a ream of printouts. Page- long equations. The folder itself had split in a couple places. I thumbed through it all and whistled appreciatively as Vince watched me intently. ‘How long have you been working on this?’ ‘About three months. Whaddya think?’ ‘I’d have to take a better look, but from what I just saw right here, I’d say you’re onto something.