Forks In The Road

Darcy and I stare at Walter through shatterproof glass at the prison during visiting hours.

Walter’s handcuffed knuckles, pressing against his temples, are white. “Toasting forks?! Those thirty-inch-long skewers you use for toasting marshmallows?”

I nod. “I put them out with the salad at dinner.”

“How could you?” he sputters.

Darcy grimaces. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to get expelled for jabbing people.”

“It’s not your fault, Darce,” Walter says. “Mom should’ve known better than to give you the exact weapons I used for the trail of destruction that landed me here.”

I sigh. “I was trying to normalize them.”

From Guest Contributor Susmita Ramani

Mob Mentality

Samantha watched the rioters at a distance, curiosity piqued. An hour before, they'd been a united front, marching to the sound of protested chants. The pepper spray turned them into a mindless mass. The desire for destruction and an outlet for their frustration the only apparent bonds.

The police closed in, weapons raised, their eagerness to engage obvious even through their riot gear. The demonstrators scattered like water from a rock, splashing in all directions, following the path of least resistance.

Samantha was surprised to realize she'd never actually been an observer, but had always been part of the mob.

The Trenches

Joseph lived in the trenches. The others came and went, firing weapons at the enemy location before marching elsewhere. Joseph always stayed.

The soldiers ignored him, except to push him aside when he got in their way. On occasion, an officer noticed him and ordered that he be taken away, but then a bomb would explode and Joseph was left to his own devices.

Joseph had a reasonably comfortable spot. He mostly just lay in the soft mud. It no longer mattered if he was face down in the pool of water at their feet. Breathing was no longer necessary.

Night

Floodlights dancing over the facade of D.C.'s skyline, lurid swirls of white illuminating lifeless constructs. Helicopters flitting, sound of thwift-thwift, fiery arcs followed by rifle's boom. Jamie clasped his fingers between chain link and watched. Behind him, scattered over a lightless tract of dirt, the naked dying, bleeding from eyes, cries of pain a muted keening of metal. Above: C.D.C. in masks and Hazmat suits, brandishing assault weapons. Washington was long dark—indeed, the entire country. Jamie gazed upwards. The milky way had manifested like fever dream, ephemeral and monolithic, a terrible Prince awaiting its prize's return to benign jungle.

From Guest Contributor John Webb

This is a repost of a story from 2014 that accidentally got deleted.

While The Dragon Yet Lives

Sir Hadder rested against the boulder. He needed time to catch his breath after hauling his heavy armor and weapons up the mountain. Unfortunately, the racket had warned the dragon of his arrival, and Hadder heard the beast emerging from its cave.

One peek around the corner showed Sir Hadder a field littered with the charred skeletal remains of the many heroes who had preceded him on this quest. No knight could wed the King's daughter while the dragon yet lived.

It made him wonder if marrying the princess was worth it. After all, she was now over 40 years old.

The Sound Of Duty

The silence wrapped around us tightly, even as we fought against it. There we tears, the quiet kind, and anguished expressions. More than one person collapsed to the ground.

I'd been through this before. We all had, so there was little to be gained with words.

We dropped our weapons and left them where they lay. Without any order, we gradually made our way back to the city. We refused to look each other in the eye.

The sacrifices were necessary. The welfare of our entire civilization depended on them. But we each vowed this would be the last time.

Reality Programming

The students were blindfolded as they entered the arena, and the roaring crowd left them nearly deaf as well. When the bell sounded indicating they were allowed to uncover their eyes, they found an array of weapons waiting for them.

The student combat drew the largest audience in recent memory. The republic was drawn to the spectacle of it all, the blood and the death and the lost innocence. And the drama. Only one lucky warrior would survive.

Not many people realize that Julius Caesar first sprang to fame as a winner on Rome's most popular reality show, Juvenile Gladiators.

The Chthonic States

I'm thinking I might quit my job.

I'm so old, I remember when we only had 51 states. But after the war, the Chthonic States moved underground. That's where we got the 63 we have today. It feels like a separate country if you ever visit, though not many people do.

I only go there hunting bounties. The laws are different down there and you're allowed to carry weapons still. Packing heat doesn't make you feel safer. The government leaves you alone but you've got to worry about angry citizens.

It's good money, but it's no longer worth my life.