Malcolm Chandler Writes
The two MPs had set to beating El Jefe viciously about the head with their rifle butts when the alarms went off.
Emily watched with her hands folded across her chest. 399 more words
2 days, 12 hours
Once more Fulton found himself staring up at solid concrete block, tracing hairline cracks with his eyes.
All this for a practical joke.
That’s all there was to Reese’s app. 661 more words
1 week, 2 days
“…The hunter killer works off facial recognition. Now that the AI’s had a few minutes to learn the targets’ faces it can identify them on sight. 515 more words
2 weeks, 2 days
The more of the prison Emily saw the less she believed it actually held inmates.
All the cells were empty — the equipment disused, rusted and generally falling apart. 796 more words
3 weeks, 1 day
The prison was a real shithole.
Lousy network coverage. All old-school vanilla wi-fi. Not enough bandwidth to pull out all the stops. Not that there were stops to pull out in the first place. 682 more words
Fulton floated in the limitless reaches of the cosmos with Reese at his side.
He didn’t feel like he was floating. He was still standing upright. 825 more words
1 month, 1 week
I’m on vacation through August 16. As such, I will be relaxing (and writing) on the beach and NOT posting the next chapter of The Bazaar… 6 more words
1 month, 2 weeks