A New Stretch Goal and Bret Carter Preview
almost 8 years ago
– Sat, May 05, 2018 at 09:47:22 AM
New Stretch Goal - $1,450
We've reached another stretch goal and so it's time to announce a new one. The next stretch goal will be for an eBook copy of Bret Carter's short story "Cold and Hungry," in which a dimensional glitch has transformed the city into barren streets infested with creatures called sybans. These predators look like large globs of black taffy and Nicholas is the next meal. He still might live to see another day. But he’ll have to do more than keep his head. He’ll have to use it. The stretch goal will be for all backers once we reach $1,450.
As a reminder, all backers at a physical pledge level will be getting their rewards plus a 4x6 inch print of the cover image.
All backers will be receiving eBook copies of "Once Upon a Time," and "Touch of Power."
Bret Carter preview from "Jack and the Quantum Fracture," enjoy:
When I walked in the door, I was shocked to see that not only had she built a fire, she was actually cooking over it.
She was even smiling a little. “I’ve made a decision. It’s time to selling everything.”
Part of me was afraid to hear this. Part of me was relieved. “Really?”
“We’ll start with the cows. Take just one into town and talk to Jacob.”
“Jacob?”
“At the feed store.”
“I know, but—”
“He told me some of the kids in the city are wanting to try their hand at 4-H. He said he could get a decent price. Dinner will be ready when you get home.”
“You want me to take just one?”
“It will be faster than trying to rustle all twenty-five on foot.”
“Twenty-four.” She grimaced. “Twenty-four. If he likes the one, I’m sure he’ll come and get the rest.”
I put on my baseball cap. In fifteen minutes, I was walking to town with one of our cows plodding along behind me tied to a rope.
The dirt road from our house didn’t have a name. But it led to a gravel road called County Road 12. From there, it was another three miles to town.
No cars came along. No trucks. No tractors. No nothing.
There wasn’t much to look at during the trip. Just the colorless sky over a colorless world. I watched my feet. I watched the way they just kept finding another step. Another. Another. Another.
So I didn’t even see the guy until we collided. He was walking the other way and apparently, he’d been watching his feet too.
I touched my hat. “Sorry.”
“Hello, there,” the man said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He wore brand-new overalls and brand-new boots. I almost expected to see the price tags dangling down.
He had gray hair and the worn-down look of someone in the suburbs of fifty, but his eyes had the shine of a toddler. “An animal,” the man said.
I lifted the rope slightly. “Yep.”
“Meat,” the man with the toddler eyes said. And I think it was at that moment I started thinking of him as Todd. It was then or maybe later on.
Standing there with that pitiful cow tethered like a leaky leather balloon, I didn’t say anything. I was trying to make sense of the conversation.
Todd’s toddler eyes almost sparkled at the cow. “Meat,” he said again.
The sun had melted the frost, but even so, I felt a chill along the back of my neck. I tried to veer the conversation closer to normal. “Yep, I suppose she’s just a walking Happy Meal, huh?”
Todd seemed to notice the question mark in my voice only after thinking about it. His eyes twitched over to me and then back to the cow. “Happy food.”
Before I could decide on a response to that bit of oddness, Todd reached into the pocket of his bright blue overalls and brought his fist out, holding a handful of something. He stepped forward and knelt down beside the cow.
At first, I thought he was going to look the animal over and make an offer.
Instead, Todd opened his right hand, palm up.
There were five pieces of metal. About the size and shape of beans. Like pinto beans. Except they were bright silver.
Todd took one of the silver beans and pushed it into the ground with his thumb, directly beneath the cow. Then he selected a second silver bean and pushed that into the ground as well, a few inches from the first one.
“Wait,” I said. “What are those?”
The man pointed at the first hole. “One for up and down.” He pointed at the second hole. “One for side to side.” Pressing the third silver bean into the ground, he said, “One for forward and backward.” He planted the remaining two. “One for moments. And one for phasing.”
I tried to recall if this was some old saying, like the wedding saying. Something old, something blue, something something or other.
But I had learned about the three dimensions at school and I had also seen that movie The Time Machine where it talked about time as the fourth dimension.
But I had never heard of phasing.
I started to kneel down next to the Todd. “Phasing?” I asked.
Abruptly, Todd got to his feet and stepped back. He moved so quickly, I automatically did the same.
Todd watched the cow, but he spoke to me. “To phase with the vessel. The vessel is off-phase with this phase.”
I started to ask if he meant vessel as in blood vessel. It was possible this guy was a veterinarian of sorts.
But before I could ask him to elaborate, a deep hum thickened the air.
Todd took another step back.
I did too.
The cow blinked, not disturbed at all. But the dirt around her hooves was disturbed. Clods shuddered and wobbled. The deep hum made my skull shudder.
Then, with surprising grace, the cow rose up into the air.
She rose and she kept rising. The rope didn’t hang down. It drifted in a loose coil right in front of her like a serpent mesmerized by her Happy Meal gaze.
“Hey,” I said. Then I said, “Hey.”
There was shimmery air above the spot where the cow had stood. It stretched up in a nearly invisible column. Occasional glints of light rose upward, moving a little faster than the cow.
Right after the levitation began, it sped up. In less than a minute, the cow disappeared inside a cloud.
I went over to Todd. “Hey.”
He smiled. “How about this weather?”
“What just happened?” I asked. Todd looked up and shielded his eyes. But he didn’t squint. The gesture seemed premeditated. Not natural. It looked like he was saluting the cloud.
Since he wasn’t giving me any answers, I decided to dig up the silver beans and get some answers on my own.
But when I took a step, Todd grabbed my arm.
Hard. Like a clamp.
He didn’t say anything. He just kept looking up, his grip still painfully latched onto my arm.
I struggled a little and said, “Hey.” But that word was getting worn out, so I added. “What’s going on?”
Still cloud-gazing, Todd said, “Provisions.”
“You mean food?”
“Yes,” Todd said. “The foremost has sent me for provisions.”
“The foremost?”
“Yes.”
“The foremost what?”
Todd glanced at me with some confusion. “He is the Foremost and he sent me for provisions.”
Now I could hear the captial F. It was only then I realized what had happened to the other cattle. Whatever was going on involved yanking cows up into the sky.
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