Loni Townsend's Blog, page 35

Murder Most Fowl – Part K #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Keeping one arm wrapped around the masked man’s legs, I elbowed him with the other. He gave a muffled harrumph from behind his gag and squirmed some more. I batted my eyelashes at the bartender. “Do you have a room we can use?” From the thumping coming from over our heads, I guessed the place doubled as a hotel. Or a brothel.

The bartender narrowed his gaze on me and his lips compressed around the toothpick. He tossed me a key. “Up the stairs, first room on the right. Don’t be getting blood all over the furniture.”

I couldn’t guarantee that, but offered him a convincing smile. Molly followed and we climbed the steps and ducked through.

A small window lit the tiny sleeping area, and a familiar bird-shaped shadow splayed out against the worn wood floor. I scowled up at the bird. “Go away.”

It snapped its beak and screeched in reply.

With a huff, I dropped the masked man on the bed. He flopped a couple times before flipping over and rolling off the back side. I leaned forward to peer over the edge. He rose to his feet—completely untied, though who knows how—and pulled the gag from his mouth, letting it hang around his neck. His gaze raked me from head to toe. “You’re the most peculiar person I’ve ever met.”

I puffed a bit and suppressed a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“That wasn’t a…” He sighed and shook his head. “So now what? A standoff at high noon?”

I shrugged. “Really, that’s up to the kid here. Though I’m pretty sure she’s innocent.”

The masked man’s brow twitched and he folded his arms across his chest. “Why? Because she says she is?”

“No. I’ve seen her aim a gun. The barn’s broadside hath no fear of this woman.”

Molly made a choking sound. “Hey!”

“I would’ve blamed her for shooting me, if she hadn’t been the one with the ray-gun.” I studied the now unarmed masked man. “Speaking of ray-guns, maybe you shot her husband.”

He sneered. “I shot the sheriff, but I didn’t shoot the deputy.”

Molly gasped. “Bobby’s dead?”

“No. I had my phaser set to stun.” He walked around the bed and approached. I stepped in front of Molly. He met my gaze and held it. His jaw tightened. “Why are you protecting her?”

I shrugged. “She’s cute.”

“She has a nasty personality and her features are only mediocre.”

“Says the man in a mask.” I rested my hands on my hips. “Who are you to her anyways?”

“Her brother-in-law.” He matched my posture. “And according to the law, she’s now my wife.”

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part K #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part J #atozchallenge + FPF

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Just because I respected my friend’s eating habits, didn’t mean I would ride with a corpse. Molly, Fues and I piled onto the masked man’s ostrich with the owner–still alive and uneaten–tied to the back. Despite the elbow-jabbing, lap-sharing, and name-calling, we managed to all fit on it. Mostly.

We bounced and bounded down the dusty road framed with nest-heavy cacti and the occasional gaping burrow. Little ground-dwellers darted from our path. I couldn’t blame them, having been trampled by an ostrich myself. The shadow of my stalker followed us until we stopped at the saloon.

I dumped the others from the saddle before hopping off myself. Then I untied the masked man and flung him over my shoulder.

The ostrich plunged its head into the feeding trough, burying it from sight.

Fues pushed the swinging saloon doors wide and our little group strolled inside. The music crashed to a halt. Dancing girls froze on the stage. Patrons stared at us, beer tankards halfway to mouths and jaws hanging ajar. A flash flared. The photographer lowered his hand-held flash-lamp and popped up from beneath his black curtain. “Copy for a quarter.”

The bartender leaned against the counter. A toothpick hung from between his lips. He watched us from beneath bushy white eyebrows. “What’ll ya have?” The toothpick bobbed in time with the words.

Fues leapt onto the bar, spear in one hand and a Y-shaped bone rattle in the other. The rattle flicked back and forth before finally settling in one direction. He pointed at one of the bottles–a squat green one with a thick neck. “Water!” Standing on top of the bar, he was almost as tall as the bartender.

The bartender looked up and down Fues’s short frame, probably noticing the distinct lack of clothing my companion wore. “You got money?”

Fues grinned and reached into his loincloth. His hand came back up with a glistening diamond from the previous world. Ewww. I’d wondered where he’d stashed those. He offered it to the bartender. “You take this?”

The bartender used a towel to pick up the gem and examine it. He shrugged, pulled out two glasses and grabbed the bottle. He filled both glasses, dropped the diamond into one, and shoved the other toward Fues. Then he tossed the towel into the trash.“Best not be braggin’ about your treasure.”

Fues patted the front of his loincloth between his legs. “I keep safe family jewels.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know those two midgets weren’t really your parents.” They were mighty fine cobblers though. I shot a despairing glance toward my broken shoes.

The masked man shifted on my shoulder. And then, he woke up.

If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

Loni here. Thank you all for reading. I know many of you have left comments, and I’ve been trying to reply, but I’ve decided visiting all of you at your blogs is equally important. I apologize if I don’t reply to everyone’s comments. I do read them, and really appreciate them. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story so far. I am always open to critiques, and really do my best to improve based on feedback given. If you don’t feel comfortable criticizing my writing publicly, I welcome it via email at loni(at)lonitownsend(dot)com. Seriously, tear it to shreds. I can’t improve if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

Question: Do you think I should post Murder Most Fowl to Wattpad? I’ve never used it. Have any of you?

Now, Featured Photo Friday! (This is a regular occurrence on my blog.)

Sticking with the A To Z Challenge, I bring you:

Jellybeans!

My daughter really liked the choice of subjects this time around (mostly because I bought her candy for no other reason than to take a picture of it).

Do you like it when someone surprises you with treats (despite having their own agenda)? And what about Wattpad? Ever use it?

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part J #atozchallenge + FPF appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part I #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

I flung up a shield of ice and energy drained from my body. Perry’s shot struck the barrier. Tiny cracks raced and spread. Her band opened fire.

I forced out more power, reinforcing the shield. Ice thickened with additional layers that bullets quickly chipped away. Fues retaliated with bow and arrow.

Sweat dribbled from my forehead and temples. The edges of my vision tinged silver with elemental exhaustion. Blood thundered against my eardrums. Pressure pushed me back.

The assault ended.

My muscles shook. I gasped in quick, ragged breaths. Ice melted in a flash and dropped like a river to puddle around my feet. The pungent odor of wet rawhide compounded the fetor of gunpowder.

Something warm slid down my stomach. I touched my abdomen and my fingers came away slicked with red. None of the bullets had made it past my shield. Was this from earlier in the town?

My flesh knit back together–slowly. Why was it taking so long?

Fues eyed my bleeding center before meeting my gaze. I looked away. Different worlds played by different rules. Like the way this one had locked down my ability to track my companions.

I surveyed the damage. Two of Perry’s cowboys and a cowgirl were dead. Perry had vanished. No losses on our side. Shirtless Joe cowered behind the rock next to Molly, and the masked man lay snoring facedown in the dirt.

Squawk?

That damn bird. Maybe Fues could make arrows out of him. But then, what if the arrows started stalking me?

Molly stared at me with wide eyes. “What are you?”

I did my best to ignore the pain and faked a confident smile. “I am awesome.”

Fues prodded the masked man with his spear. “This one make for good eating. Taste better than cow.”

I grimaced. “You want to take him back to town? Because I’m not hanging out in the desert while you fix yourself a meal.”

“Meal?!” Joe looked from Fues to me and back again. “Is he planning on–”

Fues poked Joe with his spear. “Maybe this one better. More tender.” He grinned and gnashed his teeth at Joe, cackling manically.

Joe hopped to his feet and scrambled over the rock. “Perry! Perry, honey, I’m a comin’!”

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part I #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part H #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Heat rose in waves off the rock, distorting my view of the feathery fiend. Its beak clacked and it appeared to be grinning maliciously at me. Maybe it was just the angle. I cracked my knuckles and glared at the bird. Should I blast it with a fireball? Would it stay dead then?

It squawked again and ruffled its feathers.

I jumped to my feet and backed away.

Perry trained her shotgun on me. “Who are you?”

“Cera.” Being on my feet gave me my first clear view of Perry and her band of gunmen. Five people total—three cowboys and two cowgirls. Perry stood in the center, decked out in a long leather duster, and a two-part vest that encased her well-endowed…udders?

Joe shifted feet. I glanced over my shoulder at him. Was he using me as a shield?

Perry narrowed her gaze and her finger tightened on the trigger. “Cera, what are you doin’ with my husband?”

“Oh, you know. It started in a dark room. He was shirtless, things got heated, yada yada yada, and now we’re here.” I smirked at her.

“Hey Perry,” Joe shouted from right behind me. “You don’t want to mess with her. She’s indestructible.”

I sidestepped. If my dad had taught me anything, it was to never get between a man and his wife. “Now if you don’t mind, my friend and I will be on our way.” I cocked my head at Fues and took a step in the direction of the next town.

Molly started to whimper. “You can’t leave me! They’ll kill me.”

I stopped, closed my eyes, and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“No,” Fues said. “Not our world. Not our problem.”

“She’s just a girl.” A lying, manipulative, possibly murderous girl, but still just a girl. I turned on my heel.

“You make trouble for us!” Fues scurried after me. “We leave. Go find others.”

I reached for Molly. Perry fired her shotgun.

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part H #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part G #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Gunfire erupted around us. I grabbed Molly and dove for cover behind a rock. “Seriously?! What is it with people shooting at me on this world?”

“It ain’t you they’re shootin’ at.” Molly squirmed in her ropes. “Untie me.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, Little Miss Bossy-Pants.” That was the thanks I got for rescuing her?

The gunfire stopped. “Molly Fischer,” shouted a female voice. “Come out with your hands up.”

Fischer? As in hole-in-the-chest Deputy Fischer? “Did you shoot your father?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “He was my husband. And no, I didn’t.”

Fues poked me in the arm and scowled. “Why we involved? Hand girl over. We go find others.”

Someone cleared their throat. I glanced over at the shirtless guy. What was he still doing here?

“You can leave her with me,” he said, and flashed a grin. “I’ll take good care of her.”

Molly wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“Joe?” shouted the female voice of the gun-wielding assailants. “Is that you?”

The shirtless guy’s eyes bulged, and he turned a sickly shade of pale green. “P-Perry?”

“Joseph, you get out here right now or I swear I’m gonna pepper your hide with this here scattergun!” Perry cocked her shotgun. “You have until I count to three. One, two—”

“When’d she learn to count so high?” Joe muttered. He hopped to his feet and offered a sheepish smile. “Hi Honey, how you been?”

“Don’t you ‘hi honey’ me! What are you doing with Molly Fischer? Are you cheatin’ on me? You best not be cheatin’ on me.”

I looked at Fues. “You’re right. We should go.” I patted Molly on the head. “Good luck.”

“Hey!” Molly scooted closer. “You’re supposed to untie me.”

“Not unless you ask ni—” A squawk interrupted me. I blinked and looked up. A shadow perched itself on the rock just above my head. Was that…? It was!

My feathery stalker had somehow returned from its bloody demise.

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part G #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part F #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Flashes of blue and yellow light sparked from the bent barrel. A whirring added to the ticking sound. Molly screamed a muffled exclamation.

An arrow struck the glowing ray-gun and shot it from my hand. It exploded in a brilliant display of incandescent light and pelted the ground with liquefied metal.

An eerie cackle howled on the wind, and a second arrow split the dirt between the masked man’s feet. The masked man whipped his remaining gun in the direction and fired.

The manic laughter intensified. A figure leapt from behind a rock. It stood about as tall as my thigh with dark skin painted in a flurry of contrasting colors. A carved wooden mask covered the top half of his face, and stretched as high over his head as he was tall. The top right corner smoldered with rising wisps of black smoke. He brandished filed dagger-like teeth in a grimace. Or maybe it was a grin.

The masked man grunted. “What is th—”

The cackling figure lifted a wooden tube. A blow dart struck the masked man’s neck. He tumbled forward and fell into an undignified sprawl.

“That,” I said, “is a pygmy.” To be precise, my pygmy, Fues.

Fues prodded the masked man with the tip of a hunting knife. “Who he?”

“Don’t know.” I bent and shoved the unconscious man onto his side. When I reached for the mask across his eyes, his hand shot up and grabbed my wrist. Had he woken up? Nothing else about him moved. I dropped him back on his face and shook his grip free. His hand flopped to his side like a de-boned jellyfish. “Did you make him one of those necro-whatsits-slave thingies?”

“No. Different dart.” Fues scrutinized me. “Why I must rescue you? Why you no find me?”

“Hey, give me a break! I’ve been shot, electrocuted, run over, and some bird took off with one of my heels.” I sniffed. Was something burning?

“Too bad. Good shoes.” The corner of his wooden mask glowed orange, on the point of combustion.

I licked my fingers and extinguished the ember. “Do you know where the others are?”

He shook his head. “Only me.”

Molly wormed her way forward. “Mmmphm mmph mmph!”

Oh yeah. I’d been rescuing her, hadn’t I? “Hold your ostriches. I’m coming.” I knelt next to her and untied her gag. “You—”

“Incoming!”

Read G here.

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part F #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part E #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Electricity lanced down my spine. The shock threw me backwards, and I slammed into the wall. Air—and my insult about the guy’s mother—seized in my lungs.

A steadying hand caught me as I slid toward the floor. Tiny jolts shuddered from the touch. I yanked free and glared at the open doorway. Heat rose in my face. Nobody attacked me and got away with it.

I raced out into the open. My masked attacker was fleeing on the back of a galloping … ostrich? Molly hung over his saddle with a white bandana gag shoved into her mouth.

I charged a fireball in my palm. Could I hit him without hitting Molly? Did it matter?

“Hey!” The shirtless guy from inside ran out. “Are you—”

I fired. A roiling inferno shot from my hand. The ostrich evaded with a swerve to the right. Sneaky little feather-brain. I knelt to cast a transport seal.

White light enveloped me. Five colored ribbons whipped past my vision. Hair rose on the nape of my neck. Fatigue drained my muscles.

I re-materialized. The ostrich squawked and tripped over me. One foot caught back of my head on its way down and face-planted me in the dirt. Molly tumbled into a cactus. The masked man somersaulted and rolled into a crouch, weapon drawn and aimed at me.

“Whoa!” shouted a voice. “That was awesome.”

I frowned and glanced to my right. Shirtless guy sat on the ground next to me. How in the Realm had he gotten tangled up in my seal?

The masked man pulled a second gun and aimed it at the shirtless guy. His gaze flicked between us. “What do you want?”

“How about an apology?” I righted myself and tugged the singed tatters of my clothing. “You ruined my skirt.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Sorry?”

I snorted. “Hey kid!” I shouted to Molly but kept my gaze on the masked man. “You okay?”

Molly glared and gave me her best impression of a pin cushion. Good enough.

I stomped forward. The man stared at me from behind a strip of tailored black cloth. I wrapped my fingers around the barrel of his ray-gun and squeezed. The metal whined as it buckled beneath the pressure. “That’s for my clothes.”

The masked man cocked an eyebrow, twisted a knob on the gun, and let go—leaving it in my hand.

Weird, I’d never heard a gun tick like that before…

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part E #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part D #atozchallenge and Featured Photo Friday

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

“Deputy Fischer died from unnatural causes,” Bobby drawled. He eyed Molly and stroked his mustache. “I reckon you done put a hole in his chest.”

Molly’s jaw tightened—weapon quivering precariously—and she lifted her chin. “It weren’t me.”

“If’n that be the case, you won’t mind answerin’ a few questions.”

The two glared at each other. A ocarina-like breeze whistled through the buildings in a two-note melody, sounding vaguely like a coyote’s howl. Tumbleweeds rolled past us.

After a long stand-off of eye-twitching stares, Molly finally shoved her gun back into it’s holster. “Fine.”

He turned to me. “I’m gonna have to ask you to come along, Ma’am.”

Me? “I haven’t killed anyone.” Not on this world. Not intentionally.

“Procedure, understand?” He offered me a hoof-like hand. I considered breaking it. But then, the glossy sheen would make for an excellent replacement pair of shoes.

Bobby waved us into the closest building. I frowned as we stepped through the doorway. Nothing much in there—a cot, a chair, a fur rug. Wait, no. That was some guy without a shirt.

The door slammed shut behind us. Molly squeaked and whirled around, beating and kicking the door. “Hey, let me out!”

Bobby peered through the peephole from the other side and snickered.

No good, lousy, son-of-a…

Bright light flashed through the slot. Bobby bleated, and his furry face disappeared from view. The door swung outward and Molly stumbled forward—right into a masked man on the other side. In one swift movement, he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. She kicked and beat at him like she had the door, to the same ineffective end. “Let me go! Help! Someone!”

I sighed. The runt had tried to pin a murder on me, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be abducted. “Put her d—”

The masked man fired his weapon, and a lightning bolt struck me in the chest.

If you want to start at the beginning, read it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

I also present Featured Photo Friday! (This is a regular occurrence on my blog.) I’m an amateur photographer who likes to play with apps and other software. Lately, my fascination has been with macro photography (those really close shots). Since today’s letter is D, I give you the bright yellow flowers already populating my lawn.

Dandelion.

I don’t disdain these yellow blooms as much as many other people I know. Mostly because they remind me of the song Dandelions by Five Iron Frenzy. Here it is, if you wanted to give it a listen.

I know this post was a little longer than my other serial story posts. Congrats for reaching the end!

Though the rest of the story is already written, I’m curious: Have the length of the posts been manageable chunks? Too short? Too long? (They are all under 500 words.)

What do you think?

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part D #atozchallenge and Featured Photo Friday appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part C #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Cowboys surrounded us.

The girl aimed her weapon at the furry face of the badged man. Tiny copper gears whirred and cranked on the device. Steam whistled from a valve. The weapon shook in her hands. “Leave me alone, Bobby. I’m warnin’ you!” Her corset seams strained with each inhalation. “You’re unfairly branding me the—”

Bobby’s nostrils flared at the mention of branding.

She flinched. “Sorry. Bad choice of words.”

Bobby’s jaw worked, ruminating over the wretched remains of half-digested vegetable matter. The curled ends of his greasy mustache twitched with each slavering bite like a pinned rodent in its death throes. “Now Miss Molly, you don’t wanna be rilin’ up the boys. How ‘bout you put down that there ray-gun.”

Molly snorted. “Oh yeah? Make me!” Her finger twitched on the trigger. The tip of the weapon bobbed in the air, never holding a steady position. It dipped slightly, momentarily leveling with his waistband.

He cleared his throat and shuffled to the side.

The aim swayed again. Right toward my head.

I scooted to my left and bumped into a pair of legs. Criminy. How did I end up in the middle anyways?

“Who’s this?” Bobby asked, staring down at me. He readjusted his hat. I was impressed it stayed on his head, what with the pair of horns poking out from his skull. His maw opened, gracing me with an unwelcomed glimpse of stained teeth and the foul stench of regurgitated, decaying flora.

I flashed a smile and batted my eyelashes. “Don’t let me interrupt your little feud here. I’m just passing through.”

Molly’s gaze darted to me then back to Bobby. “I’m bettin’ she’s your real culprit.”

Culprit? Why that little— “I didn’t do it!” My hand bumped the fowl corpse of the feathery stalker lying next to me. “What didn’t I do?”

Bobby spat a slimy reddish-brown glob on the ground. It struck the dirt and splattered in a star-shaped pattern. He drummed his holstered gun. A hoof-like shell covered the back of his hand and all three fingers. “Well, Miss…”

“Cera,” I supplied.

“Well, Miss Cera. You’ve just been accused of murder.”

If you want to start at the beginning, read it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part C #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part B #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

If you came looking for IWSG, I unfortunately didn’t get one written up this month. But I’ll be back next month!

Bullets whizzed past me. Dust clouds puffed to life inches from my feet. I stared at the fresh hole in my designer top. Red didn’t exactly clash with the blue, but it wasn’t the same shade as my hair, which I would’ve preferred.

I prodded my stomach and grimaced when my fingers found an added bulge to my normally unblemished physique. Already healed over. I’d have to perform self-surgery to get the bullet out. At least it wasn’t in my back.

The badged man and skirted girl raced in opposite directions. The other men opened fire. I took cover behind a wooden pole and glanced about the foray of weapon fire. If my companions were in this town, where would they be?

Glass shattered as bullets hit windows and cut sharp lines across the now-abandoned road. One struck a hanging metal sign and ricocheted into the air.

Something screeched over my head. A bundle of bloodied feathers fell from the sky and landed in an oozing mass at my feet. It twitched twice before emitting a dying squawk.

I bumped my stalker’s corpse with my shoe. “Told you.”

A bullet grazed my pole and showered me with splinters. Apparently they had no shortage of ammunition on this world. Strange. They seemed to be zeroing in on…

The girl slammed into me and we both tumbled back out into the open. I shoved at her. “Watch where you’re going!”

“You watch where I’m runnin’,” she snapped back. She met my gaze and jerked to her feet. “You ain’t human!”

“And you ain’t very coordinated, now are you?”

The gunfire stopped, replaced by slow, thudding footsteps and the metallic rattle of spurs. I craned my gaze up to the shadowed silhouette of the badged man. He leaned forward. A pair of wide set eyes and flaring nostrils came into focus.

I nudged the girl. “He isn’t human either.”

“I knew that.” The girl rolled her eyes. “He’s a cowboy.”

Read C here.

If you want to start at the beginning, read it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part B #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.