Natalie was beautiful. She didn’t know it, but she was. Beautiful like something else. It was a broken and used-up kind of grace. A bouquet of rain-soaked flowers and silk ribbons laid to rest at the side of an empty lane where someone had died in a car wreck.
Jayson had put together a handpicked crew of capable but morally flexible people. Neither of them had previous military experience; one of them, Ocampo, had even served time. They wouldn’t win any medals or provide examples for a training manual, but Jayson didn’t care about that. He just needed for them to serve their purpose, and that they would most certainly do.
Payback, it had been a long time coming but finally, I had the bastard. The last time we’d been out, Kyle had spiked my drink. I was so off my tits, I couldn’t bring my eyeballs down from the top of my head.
Orlov had been putting the finishing touches on a newly upholstered couch when the phone rang. He picked up on the second ring. When K began to talk, Orlov flipped a switch near the base of the phone to scramble the signal and encode the conversation.
The tree looked like just another tree. The birds still sang. Insects still flew. The breeze still moved through the place. How could something so fucking ugly happen somewhere so beautiful and not change a single fucking thing?
‘The alien doctor wouldn’t be anything like Dr. Patel. Jeremy’s doctor was caring and kind; he just liked to talk. No needles, no knives, no painfully invasive probes.’
He sat and smoked and gazed out of the murky window at Coney Island. The boardwalk. The beach. The ocean. He had been holed up in the hotel room for days now and it felt as though the room was gradually expanding as he felt himself diminish. It felt as though he was being slowly …
Continue reading “SHORT STORY: A Last Look From The Half Moon Hotel by Stephen J. Golds”
Charlie had never thought he’d be the kind of person to kill a man but with Welles’ bloody corpse staring up at him, well, there really was no doubt in his mind…
‘Have you ever been so cross at the world, nothing makes you feel better except seeing someone bleed?’
‘I never meant to catch him there, high up by the crotch like that. I wanted to kill the bastard; then again, I never was much of a shot.’