“I’ve never heard of this,” I said, as the two of us hiked up the hill, puffing a bit. I was still in good shape, despite my age, but breathing in deeply was making bones grind together unpleasantly in my chest. “Someone… possessing a monster, like this.”
A car crash is unimaginably violent. I’ve been in no fewer than nine of them in my life, and this was the second that hadn’t been intentional on my part. Even with that experience, it was still enough to knock me for a loop. I was vaguely aware of Horace being pulled away from me. I tried to cling to consciousness, but felt it slip through my fingers. Silver foxes sprinted through my dreams, and grinning cartoon dinosaurs followed them.
When I was 24, four very important things happened to me. First and foremost, I bought my first car. A second generation Ford Thunderbird, it was my first truly selfish purchase. It represented the freedom I had been searching for since I was a child, growing up in the booming industrial heart of upstate New York. Second, I passed the Bar Exam, and proved that I was worthy of being a lawyer, possessing the intelligence and recall to defend the liberty of others. Third, I stabbed a man who I probably shouldn’t have, because it was the only right thing to do under the circumstances. And fourth, I was recruited into a secret society. The Order of Set. I had written the name Randall Creed in the secret history of the world, in blood and splintered bone. I had been the greatest fighter the Order had trained in living memory.
In a fight, there is rarely room for tactics, or strategy. Strategy is for wars. Tactics are for battles. In fights, what you use are instincts.
Atina’s a nerd.
Jack and I had been friends. I knew a little bit about him. I’d always thought of him as a man who’d been decent at heart, if a little bit too easily swayed by those around him, his environment. He tried to be all things to all people, and it made it difficult to tell whether the way he acted around me was who he truly was, or just another mask.
As part of an agreement with my patreon, I’m posting some of the novellas from the patreon, to share- And to give some tone on the upcoming stories! While I don’t have a novel posting, I’ll be catching up- A chapter every Saturday.
For the longest time, human abundance was a wasting asset. For most of human existence, wealth has been measured in food. Being allowed to continue to live. Whether humans are agrarian or hunter-gatherers, food comes in waves. Now, as a species, we have discovered many fantastic ways to extend those waves, preserving the harvest, making it year round, so that there is always abundance. But for a very long time, when you were wealthy, that wealth would decrease in value the longer you held onto it. Unlike money, in that sense. So, when you found yourself with abundance… You threw a feast.