(art credit: Arthur Rackham,
1909)
HAN AND GRETA
coming to Amazon
Kindle in a TRIO OF FAIRY TALES (working
title)
inspired by
"Hansel and Gretel" and
To the north of
the impact wastelands in the great
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Excerpt
Later that night Han arose from his bed. He crept to the window and surveyed the
night. The fires burned and smoldered,
flickering. Dawn waited below the
horizon. Carefully he opened the door
and crept down the rusty black stairs.
No more than a few steps away from his building, Han froze at
the sight of a passing hell dog down the block.
Harsh shadows pooled between the skeletal ribs, rough brown fur standing
in stiff tufts from its hide. The huge
beast sniffed at a pile of rubble and then at the air, testing, eyes catching
the light of the dying fires and reflecting their orange glow as Han melted into
the shadows. The boy’s
heart banged in his chest.
The dog’s head dropped and he moved off.
Quietly, Han made his way down the street to a small lot the
next block over. There the stony remains
of a building competed for space with weeds and grass. Small rocks shone like dull gold coins here
and there, once embedded in the walls of the formerly elegant jewelry
store. The firelight caught winks of
light scattered from the facets of jewels strewn over the lot or sunk into the
weeds. Han scooped up all the bright
white stones, gleaming necklaces, rings and bracelets he could carry. He grabbed for a blinking jewel and instead
cut his fingers on a jagged slice of glass, bright point jutting from the
crumbled concrete. Quickly the boy
stuffed his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the blood. If a hell dog or a cricker caught the scent of blood he’d never make it back
home.
A hand grasped Han’s shoulder and a soundless scream escaped
him. Eyes wide, the boy looked up into
the face of the Norm Father had earlier spotted from the window.
The Norm looked him over carefully. The pupil of one eye was twice the size of
the other. “I smelled you,” he
whispered, “even before you bled. If the
dogs had gotten here first… how foolish you are!” His breath was rancid, fanning from behind
discolored teeth.
“I only came out to gather these for games. For my sister and I,” said Han, somewhat
feebly, for the Norm held him so that that the neck of his own shirt cut into
his oxygen supply. He sucked rapidly at
the air, trying to fill his lungs.
“Go home, then,” said the Norm abruptly, with a shake. “And remember, another on patrol may not be so generous as I!” He
flung the boy to the pavement. Han’s
forehead struck the concrete and blood welled.
He got up and stumbled home, swiping at the blood, knowing he was a
prime target. Behind him the rising sun seeped through the atmosphere in a dull
red glow.