The Dark Issue 108 by Jorja Osha

Author:Jorja Osha
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, fantasy, horror, magazine
Publisher: Prime Books
Published: 2024-05-01T11:04:43+00:00

Phoenix Alexander is a queer, Greek-Cypriot writer of science fiction, fantasy and horror. His stories have appeared in F&SF, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, and Black Static, among others. Links to all of his work may be found at www.phoenixalexanderauthor.com, and you can follow him on Twitter @dracopoullos.

Rabbit’s Foot

by H. Pueyo

Everything was under control, except the alarm system shouting for attention, the noise piercing into her headache, except the cracked glass of the windshield. Raíssa pushed aside the slowly deflating airbag, head spinning, and the radio continued its lulling song, stopping only when the broadcast announced the hour: it’s a quarter past two, and we hope you are having a lovely night.

Raíssa fumbled for her phone inside her purse. The crash had not been that bad; the road was wet with rain, and her worn Ford Ka slipped down a small slope, hitting a trunk. The courtesy lights blinked above her head and the faint luminescence of the posts illuminated the road, but the sky was dark and covered by a dense mass of gray clouds.

No signal available, her phone said, frozen on a map. No signal available.

At least an emergency tow truck nearby answered her call, promising to be there in forty minutes. They were one hour away from the location Raíssa agreed to be in on Sunday, where she would meet a couple interested in hiring her as the photographer of their fortieth wedding anniversary. Why can’t they hire someone closer? her mother had questioned. You really always do what you’re told.

Raíssa tried to get out of the car, but failed. Her left foot sagged, tingling vaguely, like the faint presage of a forming injury, but she couldn’t tell what had happened to it. The crash had been too mild; the only blood it drew trickled from her forehead, a single drop caused by a tiny shard of glass or a splinter of wood that flew with the impact. But now her foot was failing to respond to simple orders like move, get up, walk, kick. Nothing. It was like she was carrying a dead piece of meat.

Raíssa dragged her leg along through the damp grass. She stopped for a moment, believing she had seen a rabbit’s foot stuck in the mud, its silver mount and white fur accompanied by the echo of a long-forgotten voice: I can’t believe you ruined my lucky charm . . . But no, the grass was empty save for a discarded pack of cigarettes.

Had an accident on the road, she typed to her mother, then the phone warned again: no signal available. Still, the tow truck would come, the car would be fixed, and that sprained ankle, broken toe or briefly stunned foot would no longer be an issue.

Nothing to worry about—she wouldn’t melt like sugar under the rain, and the quiet of the road at night was better than the city.

A honk took her out of her thoughts. Raíssa jumped back, stumbling, the bright headlights of a Kombi blazing at her. Inside were five or six people.

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