NOTE: This is part of the new novel I am writing. I am posting it here as a diversion for readers who may be living under shelter-in-place policies while the world waits for the coronavirus pandemic to pass. For an explanation of this project, please click here.
March 15, 2018 ~ Sangre Mesa
The security cameras at Teague’s Truck Stop stood sentinel as a tall, stocky man in a baseball cap gunned down a dark-haired, bespectacled patron and ran out the back door, around the side of the building, and across the rear parking lot. They watched the man toss something from his right hand into a ditch near the edge of the property. They witnessed the moment he vanished between two big rigs idling in the free overnight parking area at the back of the lot.
The cameras did not see the man’s limbs and torso begin to narrow and shorten the instant he reached the trucks’ blind spots, nor did they record the sudden acceleration as he dropped to all fours, shed the vestiges of his clumsy human form, and took the form of a jackrabbit tearing through the sagebrush between the truck stop and the mesa half a mile away. Continue reading Fresh Kill