So, news!

I’ve been gone a while since work and real life has kicked my backside… but I bear news!

A book I’m not at all ashamed of, at long last!

If you’re a fan, and you’ve bought the other, earlier books I wrote in the series – you don’t need this one. If on the other hand, you haven’t read my stuff, there is no better time.

Sorry for the crass commerce mini-rant, and I’ll try not to be a stranger.

Tuesday’s Tale, 12/5/2017.

Alright, so I missed a week. I’m sorry about that, but you should all be used to it by now. I’m here now at least, to finish what I started, one installment at a time. So five minutes on the clock and away we go:

The incoming waves were not as large as he feared; of course not, the truly monstrous waves would come later. Still, those he found his bow turned to were more than enough for his tiny craft, at one misstep.

The smarter ship captains of ships both large and small were already where he was, out to sea. The others had been making steam for the pier and were still in the harbor.

He could understand it, though. Even this far out he could still hear the screams, small and tinny with distance. He sawed the rudder into the next wave and kept going, hoping the charcoal in is mask would hold out long enough.

And that’s it for now, total time spent is five minutes even. Not my finest flash chapter, but you can’t win them all I guess.

Tuesday’s Tale, 11/14/2017.

Alright, another Tuesday another seat of the pants five minutes of fiction. The clock is set, and here we go!

He had to avoid the bigger ships; they were milling around the harbor, trying to pick up survivors – or already dark, the gasses having reached them even out at sea, prevailing winds or no. He was tired, between steering the ship and stowing everything even remotely flammable. At least the ship did not have a leak, or one large enough to notice.

The fish were beginning to surface, belly up, when he made it out of the harbor. He turned the bow to the sea and pressed the throttle to the stops.

He knew very little of what to do about this, but he had learned that the bow had to face the incoming waves, or his new ship would be broken apart in seconds.

All I got for now; elapsed time is four minutes and forty-two seconds. See you next week, when we go sailing!

Tuesday’s Tale, 11/7/2017.

Alright, back to the normal grind. Five minutes on the clock, and away we go. Where was I, again? Oh right, the docks.

The docks were on fire of course, in spots. He skirted those places and went past several craft to the first boat he could tell was made of metal, a very nice looking yacht with an unpainted hull; copper unless he missed his guess.

He didn’t hesitate to climb aboard and checked it. It was empty but ready. There was no time to worry about provisioning.

The harbor was filled with ships, all milling about in it. Most of them were too big to survive, but this ship might make it long enough… if he managed to sail it through the fools and out to sea. He hadn’t been sailing in years, but if there was any time to remember, it was now.

The yacht had both a sail and an engine, and now was not the best time to try using the sail. He cast off the ropes and ran back to the wheel and pressed the starter; the engine roared to life.

And that’s it for this week! Total time elapsed is right at five minutes. See you next week.

Tuesday’s Tale, 11/1/2017.

Almost too late with this one, (heh) but here it is, the conclusion of the Halloween tale, a day late and a dollar short. Five minutes on the clock, and let’s see if we can write an out here.

They were waiting at the next house, and the house after that one; all the while, those behind the pair were closing in, he could feel it.

“Here! He’s here!”

No! He was so close! They were so close!

“Now stranger, just let go of Michelle, and we promise you’ll live to see the dawn.”

His questing eyes found no escape, they had been hemmed in on all sides.

“Whose blood is that on him?”

“Poor thing looks like she’s in shock!”

“Its Jared’s blood, he tried to stop this guy and got his head caved in for his trouble.”

“You sure we gotta take him back for trial?”

There was but one thing left to do. He could not bear to see her part, and he could no longer take her.

But he could take a part.

he unfurled his wings; the mob stepped back as one, and a gun went off. Luckily it missed him and took one of his tormentors instead.

A quick yank, a melodic scream, and her delicate limb was all his as took flight. Some few shots from noisy guns rang out, but he felt no pain, because his love was with him – or some of her anyway.

And that is it, this one is in the can!Hope you like the ending as much as I do. I will return next week with my cataclysm jaunt, see you then.

Tuesday’s Tale, 10/24/2017.

Here we are again, five minutes on the clock; let’s see how far we get.

The door rattled in its frame. Cheryl stared at it blankly as he cast about. The only way out was a window. They had gotten up the stairs so fast!

“Come on!” He grabbed Cheryl, and all but flung her out the open window onto a porch roof, following just as the door started to give.

He didn’t stop, grabbing her hand again and flinging them both from the roof, holding her close and taking the brunt of the impact on his back. It lit up like fire, but he ignored the pain, scrambling up and away.

He had to tug before Cheryl would follow, but he did so as gently as possible. She was not as tough as he was, and the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt.

The sounds of pursuit caught up quickly, even as they stayed ahead. They had bought some time, but they needed a place to hide. Houses were too obvious, structures of any kind were too obvious, but what else was there?

Nothing. Trees were no cover at all, not for them, and he didn’t know of any caves. He would just have to go to the next house in line and pray it had better hiding spots than the first.

And that’s it. I admit it, I went over a bit this time, darn the last sentence. Total time is five minutes and three seconds. See you next week with the conclusion of this, with luck.

Tuesday’s Tale, 10/17/2017.

Alright, a slight story switch up, because it’s horror time. For those of you following this blog who don’t know, I’m a horror fanatic, but I’m also bad at writing it. So every year around this time I like to flex that muscle and get better. So, the previous story is on hold, and today we go a bit cliche.

He slammed the door and looked around quickly. “The chair!”

She didn’t move, instead stared at the chair blankly.

“Cheryl, the chair! Get me the chair!”

She dragged the chair over the floor noisily, the bat in her other hand held close to her chest.

He took the chair from her as soon as it was in range and propped it under the door. Just in time, as the first loud batterings sounded against it. He knew it wouldn’t hold long, but with luck, he and Cheryl wouldn’t need long.

“Come on!” He grabbed her hand.

Together they went up, up the stairs and down the hall. There was no need to try for silence, instead, they needed speed.

The master bedroom of the old house had a more sturdy door than the one they just left, and it had a lock too, which was a plus.

And that’s it for this week, see you next week with more of this. Until then, have a good week!

Tuesday’s Tale, 10/10/17.

Alright, I’m here, five minutes on the clock and away we go.

There were no more survivors left in the tunnel; not even at the last stop. He expected as much.

He climbed over people on his way out; most facing either outside or in, going to or away from a certain kind of death.

The city was on fire; everything from skyscrapers to small corner shops were ablaze or smoking. The fires would burn themselves out, but it would be far too late to salvage much of value – if anyone would be left to run salvage operations.

There were boats and ships on the water, many of those were smoking as well, but few were burning.

The docks were a block from the station. They were made of wood, like many of the ships were; he would need to hurry.

And that’s as good as I can do this week, unfortunately. Time elapsed is five minutes even. See you next week!

Tuesday’s Tale, 10/3/2017.

I’m here! Without further ado, five minutes on the clock, and away we go:

In the end, only the guy with the raider’s cap made it to the next station; he fell just short, mouthing curses he had no breath to utter, reaching for Smith. Somewhere along the line, he had dropped the dead child, Smith couldn’t say where. The others with him hadn’t made it five hundred feet when the gas hit – he had been obstinate.

Smith said a prayer for them all but kept moving.

The next tremor knocked him forward; desperately he steadied his mask as he sprawled. With a roar, the tunnel collapsed behind him.

Dust and debris also filtered down from the escalators leading to the outside world.

His side stitched as he rose, but Smith ignored it. He had to hurry, the ash was here. but which way? The tunnel behind him had collapsed; if the tunnel in front had collapsed as well, he would be trapped and would have to double back. On the other hand, with the ash, fires, lightning, and other dangers sure to be lurking ground side, he would be slowed.

No, the tunnel was the correct choice; it was designed to handle the quakes possible from here. The earlier tunnel collapse had to be a fluke. Smith pulled his flashlight from his bag in case the emergency lights failed, and moved on.

And that’s it! total time is five minutes even, and have a great week!

Tuesday’s Tale, 9/26/2017.

Okay, I fell off the wagon again, but to be fair my computer blew up; whatever, I’m here now. Five minutes on the clock and away we go.

“No time!” Was the only valid reply; he started to jog again. He would be sprinting, except for the dark and the third rail. He did not want to be here when the gas caught up to the ash.

The small group followed him, well back. That was good. They might not enjoy how they were destined to die.

It started a mile down the track; first, they started coughing, little polite coughs which broke into loud wet racking coughs.

The man in the Raiders cap kept them moving. “Come on, breathe through your shirts, or wrap something around your nose and mouth. We gotta keep going.”

They knew now, why he had his mask.

The first one to drop was a child, a girl that couldn’t be older than 10. Raider cap wasted no time in scooping her up and continuing on. The group made it another ten steps before the girl’s mother dropped, and then a man.

Smith didn’t stop. There was no point.

And there we go. Time elapsed is four minutes fifty-three seconds. See you next week, provided nothing else happens.