Part 3 of 3
Read the full text, as well as the show notes, at http://flashpulp.com
Tonight, Harm Carter meets his theoretically murderous neighbour.
The Skinner Co. Network
FP297 - The Murder Plague: Fencing, Part 3 of 3
Some days, gloomy, my hours are slumberless Dear is the shadows I live with I'm underless Little white flowers will never awaken you Not where the bright culture soul has taken you Angels have no fire of evolution in you Or they'll be angry if I so don't join in you Ooooh, sunday Welcome to Flashpulp, Episode 297 This evening we present the Murder Plague Fencing, Part 3 of 3 This week's episodes are brought to you by the Way of the Buffalo Hi, this is Hugh, the host and editor of the Way of the Buffalo podcast Twice a month, we present the best short fiction of all genres, thought-provoking interviews, and other diverse entertainments You can find us online at wayofthebuffalopodcast.blogspot.com or search for us on iTunes Some people say that short fiction is going the way of the Buffalo Come join us while we're here Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings Tonight, Harm Carter meets his theoretically murderous neighbor The Murder Plague Fencing, Part 3 of 3 Written by Jaredy Skinner Art and narration by Opoponax An audio-produced by Jessica Minne She was maybe 40, with hair that had likely been short cropped a few weeks previous But was hanging shaggily across her brow by the time she pushed open the shed's green doors She moved along the lawn like a cat, keeping tight to the fence and stopping to test the air Whenever an unexpected noise ricocheted down our little alley of backyards I was sure she was the carpenter My eyes ached from lack of sleep, and my legs were stiff from my all-night vigil But I felt vindicated somehow Here was a clever someone deep in their homicidal delusion And I was staying one step ahead Never mind that I hadn't thought much of the shack before she'd stepped from it I'd known someone would appear by dawn, and he/she was A woman did not check on the now no-dow-dead fellow at the pool's bottom, however No, instead she hustled to my fence, our shared fence, and hopped over It was how she made the jump that I realized there was a gun belt on her hip She paused when she discovered the patio entrance barricaded But only long enough to slip in through a basement window that I hadn't realized was open Moments later, a bellowing "Hello!" ascended from the depths And continued to be repeated throughout the ground floor My mind raced Had the carpenter seen me at my lookout? Perhaps someone so ingenious couldn't actually be mad Perhaps she was sane, just as I considered myself, and she hoped to form some sort of alliance The shouting stopped as she mounted the flight to the second story And I guess that she'd considered that any further yelling would only unnecessarily give away her approach But if I was going to answer, I would have by then Still she came, and I grew increasingly certain she knew exactly where I was There was no place to hide, the bed was a child's, and too low to the ground fully cover me The closet was crammed tight with brightly colored craft-making kits and forgotten Halloween costumes Worse, if she did happen to be insane, neither spot would provide a chance for me to swing my blade in my defense In the end, when she entered, I already had my hands raised and my open palms clearly showing Now, you must understand that the infection is a self-reinforcing idea You're paranoid about appearing paranoid, so you do your best to act normal Except, of course, that there's a murderous apocalypse outside your door And you probably should seem rather nervous I said, "Well, hello!" "Uh, hi," she replied The astonishment on her face caught me off guard Didn't she know I was waiting? In truth, Miss understood motives with a heart of the sickness Her fingers were on her gun belt, but I think my demeanor slowed her Clearly, I was hiding an unexpected surprise if I was so calm about being exposed, right? I was no longer guessing at her intentions, however, as my corrupted brain had moved into a dance for survival It decided flattery was my best option for extracting information "I've been observing your work," I said "You've got a brilliant setup over there" It was like watching a magic trick unfold, when that fellow disappeared Almost as if to underline a statement, the shattered ruin laying in the dark at the bottom of the pool began screaming again I suppose the pain must have caused him to black out for a time The assumed carpenter raised a brow at me conversational tone was punctuated by the muffled pleading from across the way "It isn't mine, actually," she said Barry and Rhonda were always waiting for the end of the world, and I guess they finally got it Rhonda vanished a couple of days into their construction efforts, but Barry managed to last a few weeks before accidentally impaling himself in the middle of the night with a swinging pickaxe thing he'd rigged above his bedroom door Honestly, I was just over there collecting some of their food stash when I noticed you in my house I knew the shed shock on it already had been set off, so I pushed the corpse all the way inside and hid He didn't smell terribly good, but he had a can of tuning in his pocket, which made for a nice snack I hadn't recognized her from the scattered family photos that now seemed to stare at me Her face had hardened and her stomach was now taught Worse, the carpenter had been dead all along As if the ghost of his madness, only his traps had lingered In retrospect, I think she was trying to goad me into an excursion Maybe a confidence was up due to my raised hands Maybe she hoped that I would head in and engage another of the pitfalls Thus making her scavenging that much easier Maybe it's just tempting to make myself believe that there was a threat Frankly, she continued, I thought it was you who'd fallen into the mortons and swim and haul That's why I came back Whatever the case, there was no ulterior motive No clever plan that had brought her directly to my perch It was a crazed genius, it was simply bad luck She leaned towards the window to pair the dying man's premature burial and had touched the briefly from her pistol's grip The bread knife I had found in the kitchen dropped cleanly from my left shirt sleeve Was she infected? Lightly, but I didn't give her a chance to prove it Then the house was mine Flashpulp is presented by flashpulp.com and is released under the canadian creative commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license Text and audio commentaries can be sent to skier@skinner.fm or the voicemail line at 206 338 2792 But be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast We'd also like to thank the freesound project found at freesound.org For a full listing of effects used during the show as well as credits for the users who provided them Please check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com And thanks to you for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please tell your friends [Music]