Uncharted Frontier EZine Issue 16

Uncharted Frontier EZine Issue 16

  Copyright 2014 Allan Kaspar

  ***

  Table of Contents

  Sluggish Bullet -- By James Field

  Fun Not Fair -- By Christopher Barnes

  Sam The Rat -- By Holly Day

  The Books -- By Richard Lawrence

  The Last Library in the World -- By Maurice R. Beaulieu III

  The Baron and the Witch -- By Allan Kaspar

  Contributor Bios

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  Sluggish Bullet

  By James Field

  Terrified is too simple to describe how I feel. I'm so scared I've reached the stage where time moves in slow motion. There are six rifles pointing at me, all are spewing smoke, but only one has a bullet erupting from its mouth. I wonder if Joe knows he's fired the missile that will reach the white handkerchief pinned to my chest.

  Poor Joe, he's a good friend, a good shot too, I can see his aim is true.

  I had this 'slow motion' sensation once before when a car hit the van I sat in. I sat in the back compartment on the cold metal floor with my spine to the wall and my feet stretched across to the other side. My brother drove, my best friend sat in the passenger seat, the rest of the space taken up with camping gear for a long weekend in the hills. We pulled out of a minor road on to the main highway and a fast car hit the side of our bonnet, spinning our van like a top.

  The back door burst open and I flew out. Shattered glass sailed over me in a gentle wave; both the glass and I slid through time in slow motion. I've never forgotten the feeling, but I never thought I'd experience it again.

  The bullet is halfway now. I can see it spinning. I can't take my eyes off it.

  I still can't believe what's happening. This whole court marshal business is a farce. The old general who sentenced me is mad, no doubt. Shall I tell you what happened? It won't take long, the bullet hasn’t reached me yet, I have time.

  The general was in a foul mood; well, I couldn’t blame him for that, the enemy ambushed us in the night and we lost a couple of men. It had been my turn to stand watch and the general accused me of sleeping, or dozing, and not paying attention. My punishment was to stand at attention the whole day without food or water.

  As I expect you know, English soldiers must never move once given the order to stand at attention, unless they faint, which is what the mad general wanted. I stood right outside the general's tent and he kept a close watch on me; so did the rest of the lads, we're all good friends.

  Suddenly, I jumped into the air and yelped, and the mad old general saw me and held a court marshal. He said I better have a good excuse because the penalty was execution by firing squad.

  Can you believe it? Well, he was under strain, we all were, and like I said, he was mad.

  Anyway, I didn’t really believe any of this, but I couldn’t tell him I suffer from pollen fever and jumped because of a violent sneeze. Oh, no, I couldn’t tell him that, that sounds so pathetic, like I'm a softy, so I told him a squirrel had climbed up inside my right trouser leg.

  'Is that any reason to jump?' said the mad old general.

  'No' I admitted. 'But that isn’t why I jumped.'

  'Out with it then, what made you jump?'

  'I felt another squirrel climb up inside my left leg.'

  'So what? That's still no reason to jump.'

  'I agree,' I said, 'but that isn’t why I jumped either.'

  'Well then?' said the mad old general, becoming impatient.

  'Well,' I said, 'I heard the one squirrel say to the other, "Shall we crack them now or wait till Christmas." That's when I jumped.'

  My mates laughed, and the sour old general got even more upset, he said it was contempt of court and sentenced me to the firing squad.

  So here I am, watching the bullet creep towards me at snails pace. I still can't believe my pals didn’t mutiny and shoot the general, but there you have it, war's a crazy game and folks forget to act civilised.

  Not long now, Joe's a good shot, the bullet's going to hit the white handkerchief dead centre.

  There. It's exploded into my chest, restoring time to normal speed. I can feel warm liquid splash onto my face, see the handkerchief, no longer white but sodden red. It hurts less than I expected.

  That's it. I'm dead. My so-called friends are grinning all over their stupid faces. Some of them are even laughing.

  I must admit, these paintball bullets are realistic and war games are more exciting than golf – but things have gone too far this time. Never mind, I shall have my revenge.

  Next week, it's my turn to be the general.