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- adventure◐ Mature
No Country for the Tide
The trawler stank of diesel and old fish. Halloran stood at the rail, a dead man's notebook tucked in his coat, watching the spot on the chart where an island should be. Low tide would uncover it for six hours, then drown it again. Six hours to dig up whatever the Meridian settlement had buried before the water took it back. The captain spat over the side. "Mud's showing," he said. "Go now or go home."
5 writers - adventure◐ Mature
The Smugglers of Ember Pass
Vesna Kruger hadn't set foot on Ember Pass since the avalanche took four clients and her guiding license. Now she stood at the trailhead in borrowed crampons, breath fogging, while a man named Doru loaded heavy crates onto her sled by lantern light. "Don't open them," he said, and pressed a thick roll of banknotes into her glove. "Get them over the pass by dawn. No questions." The money was more than she'd made in two years. She tightened the sled straps and looked up at the dark mountain.
5 writers - drama◐ Mature
Salt in the Wound Ward
Room 414 smelled of iodine and old flowers. Dana, the night nurse, set down the morning chart and stopped cold. Mara was already there, her administrator badge catching the light, her lanyard crooked like she'd dressed in a hurry. In the bed lay Eli Voss, oxygen tube under his nose, eyes half open. "You shouldn't be in here," Dana said. Mara didn't move. "We need to talk before he wakes up."
5 writers