Kzine Issue 7 by Graeme Hurry et al

Author:Graeme Hurry et al. [al., Graeme Hurry et]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Horror, kzine, Fiction, kindle, Fantasy, SF, short
Goodreads: 21185631
Publisher: Kimota Publishing
Published: 2013-09-27T23:00:00+00:00

BLOOD OF THE SACRIFICE

by Mike Phillips

After watching the house for only a few moments, the man in dirty jeans grew impatient and crossed the street. As he went, his hand tapped an empty rhythm on his side, the animal part of his brain playing out some dull melody to quiet his fears. He was trying to affect carelessness, but even before he had taken two steps, the man let out a great breath of air and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The house looked deserted, abandoned. The paint was sun bleached and peeling, weathered to a dull shade of what might once have been green. A window was broken, the remains of the glass hung in the frame like teeth. The grass surrounding the house spread threads of seed like the soft antennae of a moth, testing the night air for a mate. Flowers were crowned with dried blooms that dipped toward the earth, heavy with the reward of springtime romance. Trees grew jealously toward the sky, their leaves casting wild shadows that seemed to bode danger in the play of sun and cloud above.

When the man in dirty jeans knocked on the front door of the house, a car started its engine. The Buick was parked down the street, hidden behind the gnarled bones of an overgrown lilac bush. Exchanging a wad of cash for a small package in a plastic bag, the man in dirty jeans turned and started back toward the street as the Buick came to a stop in front of the house.

An old woman turned the corner, pushing a shopping cart down the sidewalk toward the man in dirty jeans, the house, the Buick. She was grossly overweight, with a massive bosom and rear which her floral print dress did little to hide. As she came, the old woman hummed a tune and complained to herself about the state of the neighborhood, how much things had changed since she was a girl, how bad things had become since the Delphi plant closed.

The car door popped open and a man jumped out, his face covered in a mask, his hands clutching a shotgun. The masked man ran toward the man in dirty jeans, crossing the unkempt lawn in moments, shouting orders in an almost girlish wail. The man in dirty jeans dropped to the ground, covering the back of his head with his hands in practiced quiescence. The masked man struck the other man on the base of the skull with the shotgun, knocking him unconscious.

Slinging the shotgun over his shoulder, the masked man lifted the man in dirty jeans into a seated position and began dragging him back to the car. The masked man was tall but gangly and it proved a difficult job for him. Before long, he began puffing in deep breaths and could only go a short distance before needing rest. After a great effort that brought him to the sidewalk, the masked man stood, bending over at the middle and breathing hard.

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