Attack of the Killer Tumbleweeds by Antonia Rachel Ward

Author:Antonia Rachel Ward [Ward, Antonia Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ghost Orchid Press
Published: 2023-05-22T16:00:00+00:00

13

Jimmy wanted cannoli. For some reason, it was all he could think about. The crunch of the pastry shell as he bit into it. The creamy sweetness of the filling. Momma used to make it with nutmeg, for extra flavor. His mouth watered. Cannoli, just like Momma made it …

Then he became aware of the thumping in his skull. A sick, pulsing ache that turned his stomach and chased away all thoughts of dessert. His head rested on hard ground. He could taste blood. He wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing.

“Mr. Catalano?” Somebody was shaking him. Jimmy kept his eyes tight shut, wishing they would go away. “Mr. Catalano! Are you all right?”

Jimmy groaned and opened his eyes to see his bodyguard, Al, crouched over him.

“What … happened?” Jimmy managed. His throat was so constricted he could barely speak, and his voice sounded strange. Almost … metallic. Frowning, he realized he couldn’t remember a thing since Sergeant Valentino had shown up at the bar. Beneath the headache, there was a buzzing at the back of his skull that made his thoughts fade in and out like bad radio reception.

“Mr. Valentine choked you,” said Al. The bodyguard’s nose was broken. “I thought you were dead. They tied me up here, and I had to wait for Carlo to come back and let me loose.”

Fzzzzt.

The radio waves inside Jimmy’s head buzzed and jittered. Alien voices clamored, clicking and screeching. Jimmy pressed his hands against his ears. Pain shot through his temples, sharp as razor-wire. Clumsily, he got to his feet, feeling as though he was watching himself from a distance. His body didn’t seem to belong to him. His hands and feet … He couldn’t feel them. He couldn’t feel his hands.

He turned to Al. The human was small. Fleshy. Disgusting. Everything about him turned Jimmy’s stomach, from the fine red veins in his bulging eyes, to the beads of sweat that formed at his receding hairline. Al’s nose hairs quivered.

“We must find them,” Jimmy heard himself say. The voice—his voice—bounced around his head like a pinball. “They will jeopardize the mission.”

“M-mission?” Al backed away.

His breathing irritated Jimmy. Sucking in all that air. Expelling it out again, all filthy and contaminated. These humans revolted him.

He lifted a hand, pointing it at Al’s chest. Watched his own soft flesh change. Harden. Solidify into a lance, shining and sharp. And then he stabbed it through Al’s heart.

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