Well, only one person showed any interest. Since I haven’t been doing much of anything other than working on this story all month, however, if I want to crank out a post this week I suppose that dipping from this well of 30,000 or so words I’ve created is as good a solution as any. So, without further ado, please enjoy this not-entirely-finished snippet from what may be the third installment of the forthcoming serialized story posting project…
Excerpt: Installment #3, “A Hunting We Will Go”
The pizza arrived, so Lynn and Charlie tuckered into their meal for a few minutes and enjoyed the petty dramas offered by city life. A bus pulled up to the stop just outside and a shabby man with his shaggy dog tried to board, apparently without paying because there ensued an argument which ended with the man and his dog back out on the street making rude gestures as the bus pulled away.
Charlie finished his slice and looked at Lynn. “Your turn now.”
“Oh, if you insist.”
“I’m afraid that I do.” Charlie tried to look serious and dignified. The effect was spoiled somewhat by a bold smirk.
“Clearly, pizza is your confidence fuel.”
“That’s good to know. Usually I have a few beers for that, but it doesn’t end very well.”
Lynn laughed. “Okay, you win. Now, what I do is tied to what our family does, which is to right wrongs, triumph over evil, protect the weak and innocent, and a bunch of other catchphrases Andrew likes to rattle off when he’s feeling especially full of himself.”
“But you all do it differently, Amy said something about that I think?”
“That’s correct. I mean, sure, I could build robots like she does if I really wanted to.”
Charlie blinked. “Robots.”
“You’ll probably get to see them some time. Big robots, little robots, itty bitty robots, most of them with blades or guns or lasers. And okay, I probably couldn’t build robots like she does because it’d take years to learn how and I’m just not that interested. So what I mean is, we all have our particular leanings. Mine look a bit like this,” and Lynn reached behind her to retrieve a thin dagger with a blade as long as her outstretched hand. She set it on the table between the paper plates.
“That’s… pointy.” Charlie groaned. “I mean, duh. But I got a good look at that first critter. I think I’d put my money on the robots with lasers.”
The dagger lifted off of the table, just an inch or two. “Normally, the stiletto makes a terrible throwing knife. But I don’t throw knives quite like normal people would.” Lynn smiled at Charlie. “And I can summon as many as I need. And in whatever shapes or sizes I want. And you haven’t even seen my favorite sword yet.” She reached over the table and the dagger settled upward into her hand, which clasped the hilt and returned the blade to its hiding place.
Charlie looked at the spot on the table previously occupied by a levitating knife. “So, stabbing is your deal, robots is Amy’s thing, and…”
“Burning things to a crisp is one of Andrew’s specialties, yes. It’s not a pyromania thing for him, he’s just fascinated by the intersection of high-energy physics and everyday objects. He went through a railgun phase a few centuries ago. Be glad you missed that. Every few days it was a new demonstration of watching a slug of dense metal connect with some random food product or toy or what-have-you at ridiculously high velocity.”
“I… I’m kind of sorry I missed that.” Charlie admitted.
“Boys,” Lynn answered in a tone of profound disappointment.
“Anyway, we should go. It’s starting to get dark.”
“Stupid Earth’s rotation.”