The few short seconds in the basement blurred, mired in panic, shock growing roots from his feet into the concrete floor. The wood support frame at the bottom of the stairs exploded, sending splinters in all directions. Wind from the force blew back his hair, making Tim close his eyes. This simple movement probably saved his vision. Shards of wood punctured his cheeks, forehead, jaw, nose, neck and shoulder. Sharp pinches from the wooden lancets tattooed his left side. It hurt, stung even, but he didn’t move, didn’t even cry out. A hand tugged at his wrist, the clamp so tight Tim winced, in a detached, reflexive way, as splinters of wood pushed deeper into his skin and he was yanked out of the doorway. Another boom thundered through the room. Something plucked at Tim’s shoulder. It burned, as though someone held a lighter to his skin. Jason stared at Tim, wide-eyed, mouth a lipless line, nostrils flaring with desperate inhalations. A splinter of wood stood straight up from Jason’s head and left a thin line of blood trailing down his face. His own wounds far from his mind, Tim would’ve gasped at the image presented to him in a mirror. Instead, he thought, Ouch, Jason… Continue reading
“Your dad have any guns kid?”
“My name is Tim.”
The man shrugged and said through peanut butter covered teeth, “Yeah. I know. Tim it is.”
Tim paced around the room with nervous energy, taking long strides, stretching himself out. He inspected the wood he’d put over the windows and fingered the white caulking. Satisfied no bugs could penetrate, he turned away from the window.
“My dad has a Bushmaster .223.” Continue reading
Hello everyone. I was away for the last week at a conference and I was unable to complete this week’s scheduled upload. I’ll get it up within the week. Stay tuned…bugs to follow.