Simmons had already chewed through half a boot tongue before Carver dropped dead. In another life, he might’ve bent low, weeping, to kiss Carver’s cracked lips, unconcerned with how the rest of the Jupiter’s dwindling crew interpreted the gesture (whatever they might have imagined would’ve been correct). In this life, though, the men were ravenous, […]

Storm clouds drift over the Sea of Japan as if large pieces of charcoal were dragged across the sky. Ryu, the steersman of the fishing trawler Columbo, checks the weather forecast on his phone, flipping through the interactive display. They’ll be heading toward the confluence of two storm systems if they leave now. He scratches […]

The Wraith leans against the cinderblock wall of the Quik-Buy on US Route 29 and scratches off a lotto ticket to determine whether you will live or die. You, of course, do not know this. You pull into one of the self-serve stations and read the sign that says cash only. You un-stick your thighs from the bottom of your Toyota’s seats before gathering your trash, shoving your sunglasses into your sweat-damp hair, and making your way inside. You leave most of your weapons in the car. You don’t think you’ll need them. 

Alice had sung that single phrase to Paul one night as they sat on their haunches at the back of the yard, stoned and gazing up at the black shape of the hill in the middle distance. Her voice was flat, and the words didn’t fit the tune, but she repeated it until she got bored with the sound of herself. Alice had started calling the hill The Empress sometime over the summer. No one else Paul knew called it anything but the hill.