100 Words a Day 469

He dropped the mash and ran. Barney’s sirens were getting closer. They would destroy the still, but it was more important that he got away. As he ran, Patrick wondered what had tipped them off. Was it Daniel? That damned waxy! He had always had it out for Patrick.

Patrick sprinted down the hill, losing himself in the dark woods. Thorns and branches scratched his face and grabbed at his loose clothing. When he finally emerged into the clearing he was bleeding and covered with sweat.

He stopped short when he saw his getaway car. Several Barneys had it surrounded.

100 Words a Day 468

He hung his head in the back of the squad car. The cold and uncaring handcuffs cut into his wrists, slowly bringing a tingle to his fingertips. He watched the cops speaking to the line of patrons, interviewing them for details about the fight. Shifting in the leather seat, he was able to see the other man lying down on a stretcher with a paramedic holding ice over the black eye the man had received. A police officer supervised the process. He did not regret what happened; the man was harassing several people at the bar. He had it coming.

100 Words a Day 467

The hospital was a frightening place. The sterile, white walls were unwelcoming, not like the warm tones used in his doctor’s office or his classroom. The waiting room was full of strangers. A few of them looked normal, but others had strange bandages, wounds that made him shake, or were making noises that he had only heard before in the depth of nightmare.

He felt his eyes grow big and his heart pound as he imagined what horrible things they would do to him. Looking at his mother only confirmed his fears; she was fidgeting and clearly worried about something.

100 Words a Day 466

“Damn it,” he said, his lips scrunching with mild irritation.

He put his boot on the corpse, steadying himself so he did not slip on the fluids, and yanked on his sword. It came out a few inches, but remained lodged in Garak’s final opponent. The small man had been the last of dozens and his skill was not particularly good. Consequently, Garak had not swung with full commitment and failed to split the man from shoulder to hip as he had with done his other opponents.

“Guess I’m getting old and lazy,” he said to no one in particular.

100 Words a Day 465

The red brick was faded. Years of staring into the sun had left its exposed face bleached. The cement holding it in place was crumbling, leaving part of the unfaded top visible. The porous skin was weather-beaten and water-damaged, evidence of a long life spent outdoors. The brick stood stoic no more. What was once solid and unbreakable had become stiff and fragile, slowly crumbling under the heavy tread of the onward march of time. No one ever saw the brick change; they would simply take the time to look at it one day and notice how it was different.

100 Words a Day 464

It was several days before he noticed anything wrong and several weeks before he was able to perceive the problems in the organization, obscured as his vision was by a heady haze of idealism.

He had grown up on stories of the greatness of the company; how they were the best in the business, heralds of innovation. He was coming to realize the truth was quite different. They may have been innovative, but now they were indolent. Their hires were screened most stringently, but even the most qualified candidates were assigned entry-level tasks where their genius quickly turned to boredom.

100 Words a Day 463

The chest groaned as he forced it open with the crowbar. One of the rusty hinges actually broke off, having long ago fused in place. As he pushed the lid back, an eerie azure glow lit the chamber. He lifted the luminous thing out of the chest, leaving it empty, and held it close to his face so he could inspect it. It was a white skull with glowing blue eyes, just like the old man had said it would be. He was mesmerized by those glowing eyes for a moment, then remembered what else the old man had said.