One Minute to Midnight (5 page)

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Authors: Steve Lang

Tags: #scifi adventure, #scifi action, #scifi fantasy, #scifi short stories, #scifi alien, #scifi adult, #scifi action adventure aliens

BOOK: One Minute to Midnight
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Willy cut Tony the rest of the way
free as Scott dodged a sticky shot of webbing that was aimed for
his head. He rolled to the side just in time to avoid being
suffocated by her web and eaten by the spider as a midnight snack
later. When he got to his feet, he was directly under her belly.
Lady Kalindora raised a ring of magical fire around her, trapping
the adventurers within her deadly circle, as the undead began to
filter in from the staircase. Willy aimed and fired his crossbow
into her eyes as she fired a web at him, covering his face. Willy
dropped to the ground, trying to pull it off as Scott hacked up
into her abdomen, opening a huge gash. As she let out an ear
piercing bellow, he did it again. Tony fired Willy's crossbow at
the spider and although he had no dexterity with the weapon, one
bolt did manage to enter the gash Scott had created seconds
before.

"Nice shot, man!" Scott yelled. He
slashed another one of her legs off and as he did, she collapsed on
top of him. Scott disappeared under her large body, being slowly
crushed by her enormous weight.

The spider queen was almost dead as
Tony turned to Willy and began to cut a hole for his mouth with the
hunting knife. Willy let out a huge gust of wind through the hole
and took his knife from Tony who was trying to figure out how to
safely cut holes for his nose and eyes.

"I'll take it from here." Willy
mumbled angrily, relieved that Tony had not inadvertently stabbed
his face.

Lady Kalindora was not through with
them yet. She shot another web at Tony's foot, snagging him once
more. She began to drag him forward, toward her mouth. Scott was
still nowhere to be seen, Willy was removing web from his eyes, and
Tony had no magic that could affect the spider. Tony began to pray
for his life. A second later, Lady Kalindora's body began to shake
and convulse as she screamed. Scott's battle-axe emerged through an
oozing laceration in her back. As he climbed out of the horrifying
mess, he managed to get his footing and stood on her back. With one
final cleave he sliced her head off, and watched with exhausted
satisfaction as it rolled across the court. The circle of flame
ignited her head as it rolled through, and then the flames died
out, allowing the conquerors through.

Scott fell forward and rolled off her
back, covered in stinking spider goo.

Suddenly, the spider carcass, the
castle, and the dragons began to fade away. There were no more
zombies or orcs either. People emerged from their homes, behaving
normally, and were even walking their dogs again. The three friends
stood next to each other, watching it all with eyes wide open.
Their normal street clothes were back on again as well, and they
had shrunk down to their old bodies.
"Did any of that just happen?" Tony asked.
"It had to have. We were all nearly killed, right?" Scott
whispered.

"I think so." Willy
replied.

There was not one trace of the battle
they had valiantly fought against ultimate evil, and nobody seemed
to notice a thing out of place.
"So, what do we do now? Want to go play POW?" Willy asked. They
both slapped him on the shoulder.

"I think I'm going to grab my
skateboard and head over to the park instead. You guys want to
come? We can do some handrails, and jump the stairs." Tony
said.

"Good idea, I'm down for that." Willy
said.
"Yeah, I think I've had enough video games from awhile. No one will
ever believe us, but that was the single scariest and coolest event
of my life thus far." Scott said.

The three played Planet Orc War again,
but not for several months. Nothing like the experience they had
ever happened again, but that day was forever lodged in their
memories, and solidified a lifelong friendship.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The crystal ball

 

Farley McIntire goes to the carnival after a
long day. Then, something strange happens.

 

The sun beat down on his head as
Farley walked home along highway 85 in the hot summer heat. Sweat
beaded on his brow running away in trickles, followed by rivers
flowing down his face as he put one foot in front of the other. He
wiped the sweaty locks from his forehead and stroked the growing
beard that had recently graduated from a Van Dyke into a full-blown
hippie beard. The smell of hot asphalt, mixed with the stench of
exhaust fumes from cars wafted up into his nostrils, making
breathing an unpleasant experience. He had just graduated from the
University of North Carolina at Charlotte earlier in the day, and
although his parents' house was in Concord, just a ten minute drive
up the road, it seemed a lot further away when you had to walk the
whole way. A friend from school happened to see him walking and
pulled over about fifty feet down the road ahead of him. As Farley
got closer he could see that it was Jim Strugg, one of his
classmates Farley sauntered up to the car and Jim lowered the
passenger side window as he unlocked the door.

"Hey buddy, looks like you're riding
the shoe leather express. Was that your beater I passed down the
road back there?" Jim asked. He was smiling. Farley was not amused,
but feigned a friendly grin.
"Hot out here. Can I have a lift?" Farley asked.
"Hop in, man!" Jim said. "I was headed over to my girlfriend’s
place in Salisbury. You want me to drop you somewhere?"

"Yeah, my folks’ house off highway 73
would be great." Farley replied.

The two drove along for a few minutes
listening to a comedy station on the satellite radio in Jim's car
as they reminisced about college and how glad they were to be done
with it.

"Yep, all I have to do is pay back
sixty thousand dollars in loans and I'm set. Should take what two,
maybe three years?" Farley said. They both rolled their
eyes.

"This job market sucks, man." Jim
said. "I sent out thirty resumes last month and followed up with
all of them and still got nothing. I'm looking at fast food soon if
nobody offers me a gig."

"I hear ya; I'm not sure what to do
now. I spent all my time studying for tests and trying to stick it
out."
"You've always had a pretty good imagination, I could see you
writing for a newspaper, or maybe publishing books. You were always
coming up with little ideas for stories in school. Try and make
that work for you, maybe." Jim said.

"Yeah, maybe." Farley said. He stared
out the window, trying not to think about the bleak economy.
"Hey, I’m heading over to the fair in Concord tonight with a few of
the guys. It's here early this year. You want to join us?" Jim
asked.

"I don't know, man."

"Come on, what else are you doing?
We'll drink some beer in the parking lot and go ride the electric
bull." Jim said.

"Alright, I'm in. What
time?"

"We'll swing by around seven and pick
you up. That way we can grab something to eat before we head
over."

Jim got off the highway and dropped
Farley at his parents’ house.

"See ya tonight!" Jim said and drove
off.
That afternoon, Farley found out that his water pump and radiator
were completely shot, and he’d have to get it towed to a local
garage. He would have to wait till the following day to get his car
over to the garage, so he decided to just kill some time and wait
around. That evening, Jim pulled up to his house and honked the
horn once for Farley to come out. As Farley came outside, he saw
Tim Sedon and Joe Miller sitting in the car with Jim.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" Farley
said as he got in on the rear passenger side. Jim handed him a
beer.
"Going great! Good to see you, Farley." Tim said from beside
him.

"You ready to party and ride the bull?
We're going to see who pukes first." Jim laughed.

"Let's do it. I can guarantee it won't
be me." Farley laughed. He cracked his beer open and took a sip as
Jim drove.

"That's not what we saw last time,
Farley. You puked like a freshman chick at her first dorm party. I
thought I was going to have to hold your hair back for Christ's
sake." Joe said. All four of them were laughing.
"Yeah, well I was trying to forget that one. I bet the operator
spent the better part of his night cleaning the bullpen. Good
lord!" Farley said.

The quartet grabbed a bunch of burgers
from the drive through at a fast food restaurant and drank a few
more beers before going to the fair. None of them were drunk, but a
buzz was definitely in effect. Nighttime had fallen and the rides
were lit up, making the fair feel like a small independent town. As
they arrived, Farley could hear people laughing and playing
carnival games with their kids. Farley was upset about his car. He
didn’t know how much it was going to cost to fix it, and he was
more reserved than the other three because of everything on his
mind. The aroma of fried foods and funnel cakes gave Farley a
nostalgic feeling and it lightened his mood a bit more.
"I'm heading straight back to the mechanical bull." Jim
said.

"I want to get a funnel cake!" Tim
said.
"A funnel cake will kill your buzz man. What are you
thinking?"

"Dude, we're looking at ten minutes at
the most and if I get sick on that damned machine again I'm not
going to want a funnel cake. You know?" Tim said. The logic was
sound enough, and they all agreed to make it quick and made a
beeline for the funnel cake stand.

"These things remind me of being a kid
again when my parents would bring me here." Tim said. He was
happily munching on the funnel cake as white powder dusted the rim
of his mouth.

"Dude, are you eating that or wearing
it?" Joe asked.
"It's a fashion statement. What, you don't think everyone will be
wearing powdered sugar masks in the future? It’s a trend dude." Tim
replied with a full mouth.
"Let's get to the electric bull before my buzz wears off." Jim
said. He had finished half of his funnel cake and was beginning to
look impatient.

"OK, man. Guys, finish up so the
princess over there can get to her mechanical bull ride." Joe
said.
"Hey, we're on a mission here and if we don't get on it soon we may
get out of here without vomiting all over the bull." Jim said. A
family of four with two small children across from them had heard
every word and looked at Jim with disgust.

"Can you please sit down
and be cool until we finish? That is, before we make someone else
here throw up?" Farley asked. Jim sat at the picnic table and
wolfed the rest of his funnel cake down. "Ready." He said with a
mouthful of fried dough.
While they were sitting there, Farley noticed a small red and white
striped tent between the bottle toss game and the ring toss booth.
A small sign above it read
Prophecy/Fortune Read
. This was
strange because Farley had looked in that direction ten minutes
before, and the tent was not there at that time. He got up without
another word and walked over to the tent. His friends watched him
go as they finished up their cakes.
"Where are you going?" Jim yelled.

Farley was too mesmerized by the tent
and did not hear Jim. The tent looked like a red and white striped
candy cane, and it beckoned to him to come closer. His friends
faded from his consciousness. The fair no longer existed and he was
walking in a land of fog and smoke as the tent flap opened to him.
Later, his friends would say that Farley walked around a corner at
the ring toss and vanished; they never saw the tent he spoke of.
Farley ducked inside and was overpowered by the odor of incense
mixed with body odor and moth balls. A small capuchin monkey
cackled at him as his head cleared the entrance. From the outside,
the tent seemed to be only about four feet wide, but inside it was
easily thirty feet between the walls. Jars containing yellowish
liquid lined shelves from floor to ceiling, each one the vessel for
odd looking bugs, animal body parts, human eyes, and partial faces
that looked to have been cut apart with crude blunt instruments.
Farley felt as if he were on another planet in an alien landscape
far from home.
"What can I do for you this fine night, young man?" A man said from
the darkness.
When Farley turned around, he was face to face with a short, portly
man dressed in a terrycloth robe and white knee-high socks. His
slippers were brown corduroy and one of them had a hole in the left
big toe.
"I'm. I'm sorry, I just wandered in here. I'm not sure why."
Farley's voice was distant, dreamy.
The portly man before him had not shaved in some time, and he
reeked like a hobo, but Farley denied every instinct to run and
stood his ground before the man.

"You've come to see your future. I
don't get many visitors here. Come in and sit down. Let's begin."
The man said.

"What's your name, sir?" Farley
asked.

"My name is unimportant, but some call
me Jinks." The man said.

"Nice to meet you, Jinks." Farley
said, but he was not about to shake the man's hand unless he was
forced to.

"Sit down, please." Jinks motioned to
a pillow in front of a low table.

On the table was a clear glass ball
about the size of a grapefruit. The table had small wooden lathe
turned legs supporting a sheet of solid granite. Farley sat down
and crossed his legs Indian style.

"What would you like to know? What
fortune do you seek?" Jinks asked him.

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