The Canadian Prairie teems with life - not all of it of this world. Get acquainted with baby dragons, killer insects, faery kings, infernal entities and more, as 19 authors let the Manitoban landscape inspire weird and wondrous tales.
You thought the Prairies were flat, plain, and boring.
You were wrong.
“So much fun! I’m loving this book … the stories take place in Manitoba, but they transcend” — Joanne Kelly, CBC Manitoba
“… a kaleidoscope of style and subject matter. Echoes of iconic storylines pulled from the annals of cult sci-fi, fantasy and suspense ring through Manitoba’s landscape.” — The Uniter
“I was born and raised in Thompson — a northern community with mosquitos big as ravens, ravens big as bears, and bears that run for local office — so I know weird when I read it. And this is some choice weird right here. I don’t know what the future holds for Manitoba, but if these stories are any indication, the flatlands are in for a bumpy ride.” — Corey Redekop, author of Husk and Shelf Monkey
The Canadian Prairie teems with life - not all of it of this world. Get acquainted with baby dragons, killer insects, faery kings, infernal entities and more, as 19 authors let the Manitoban landscape inspire weird and wondrous tales.
You thought the Prairies were flat, plain, and boring.
You were wrong.
“So much fun! I’m loving this book … the stories take place in Manitoba, but they transcend” — Joanne Kelly, CBC Manitoba
“… a kaleidoscope of style and subject matter. Echoes of iconic storylines pulled from the annals of cult sci-fi, fantasy and suspense ring through Manitoba’s landscape.” — The Uniter
“I was born and raised in Thompson — a northern community with mosquitos big as ravens, ravens big as bears, and bears that run for local office — so I know weird when I read it. And this is some choice weird right here. I don’t know what the future holds for Manitoba, but if these stories are any indication, the flatlands are in for a bumpy ride.” — Corey Redekop, author of Husk and Shelf Monkey
Parallel Prairies: Stories of Manitoba Speculative Fiction
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Parallel Prairies: Stories of Manitoba Speculative Fiction
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Overview
The Canadian Prairie teems with life - not all of it of this world. Get acquainted with baby dragons, killer insects, faery kings, infernal entities and more, as 19 authors let the Manitoban landscape inspire weird and wondrous tales.
You thought the Prairies were flat, plain, and boring.
You were wrong.
“So much fun! I’m loving this book … the stories take place in Manitoba, but they transcend” — Joanne Kelly, CBC Manitoba
“… a kaleidoscope of style and subject matter. Echoes of iconic storylines pulled from the annals of cult sci-fi, fantasy and suspense ring through Manitoba’s landscape.” — The Uniter
“I was born and raised in Thompson — a northern community with mosquitos big as ravens, ravens big as bears, and bears that run for local office — so I know weird when I read it. And this is some choice weird right here. I don’t know what the future holds for Manitoba, but if these stories are any indication, the flatlands are in for a bumpy ride.” — Corey Redekop, author of Husk and Shelf Monkey
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781773370040 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Great Plains Publications |
| Publication date: | 02/10/2018 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 224 |
| File size: | 1 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
THE UNCANNY ROAD
S. M. Beiko
Judging by the crowd of passengers that had gathered in the bus terminal, it was going to be a hot, cramped, three-hour horror show of a trip back to Brandon. The place reeked of almost thirty bodies in their end-of-week sweats. Not that Kate was surprised or even put out; general discomfort had always been her norm, stench notwithstanding.
The sun was already low by the time the Greyhound pulled into bay four, everyone anxious to queue up just so they could be shunted into the rat cage on wheels. Kate could feel her shoulders bunching at her ears and hugged her bag in a death grip as a pasty tweaker with face tattoos bumped into her, too preoccupied lighting his smoke to give a shit about order.
"Sir, you can't come through here without a ticket," came the station agent, stepping into his path seconds before the gob of spit hit his face. Kate's hand went bloodlessly tight, and the crowd moved aside while security came in and dragged the screaming guy back into the bus terminal, skater shoes flailing.
Winnipeg.
A gentle tone sounded over the intercom, underscored by the bus's pneumatics as it knelt to the platform. It was hot out, even for August. A breeze sighed past, but it was more a gassy breath than anything, stealing the weak waft of A/C escaping the bus.
"Attention passengers: now boarding the eight P.M. shuttle west, Winnipeg to Vancouver, with stops in Portage la Prairie, MacGregor, Carberry, Brandon ..."
The placid voice rattled off regional stops as people shuffled forward, eyes on phones or pavement. Kate flicked out an earbud to shake her head at the driver as he came to grab everyone's luggage. Luckily, she only had her shoulder bag; the guy's eyes were red-rimmed, and he was coughing, sweating. Too bad her hoodie couldn't hermetically seal.
She took the stairs two at a time and headed all the way to the back, to the window, pressing herself in. She should've booked the airport shuttle, but the idea of asking for the extra fifteen bucks from her parents made her shrink deeper into herself. Especially with the funeral and all. She clutched her grandmother's locket under the confines of her T-shirt. She'd just plug in and zone out and be thankful for the sliver of grocery money she'd saved ... even though it would go towards more Mr. Noodles. Not like she would be cooking anything in her roommate's filthy kitchen. Just get through your Masters, and get out. Everyone has student debt. No matter that there's no job market for a postdoc in folklore. No matter that you've spent the last five years in the middle of nowhere with few friends and your existing ones in Winnipeg getting further and further —
The doors clapped shut with the last passenger, the bus pulling away from the platform. Kate squeezed her eyes shut. She'd sleep this ride away. Tomorrow will be better, Nana used to say.
As the bus left the lot, Kate took a last look in the fading light. The man with the face tattoos was standing there, back straight, eyes bright. He seemed to be looking right through her.
They turned the corner and he was gone.
* * *
When they pulled into Portage la Prairie, the bus lurched so hard Kate was nearly thrown into the rainbow-patterned seat ahead of her. Dazed, she blinked around her, trying to re-establish where she was. Her dreams had been blank; her head kept bobbing, neck snapping, and all she could recall was watching a rush of dark shapes coming for her.
"Jesus Christ," a guy a few rows down muttered. People filed out for a bathroom-slash-smoke break, but the driver was rooted to his seat, coughing so painfully that Kate could easily visualize his lung slapping meat-heavy against the windshield. No one asked if he was okay on their way out.
Kate didn't see the point in getting up. She shifted uncomfortably, jeans chafing her thighs. God it was hot. She was sweating from every cranny and it was only ninePM. She wasn't getting back into town until eleven, maybe midnight. That meant sneaking in and trying not to wake Audra, so no shower until morning.
"Sorry."
Kate blinked up at the guy in the seat in front of her.
"Sorry?" she said. Classic Canadian roundabout.
The guy held up his phone. "You wouldn't happen to have an Android charger, would you?" He waggled his cracked-screen behemoth at her.
Before even thinking about it, she rummaged in her bag. "Oh yeah, sure ..." She passed it over. Growing up in a house full of loud cousins at Nana's had conditioned her to share automatically, even if it was against her will. A flash of what if you don't get it back? pinged through her, immediate regret for trusting so easily, but he'd already taken it.
"Thanks so much!" The guy had turned back to face her. God I am not in a chatty mood." Where you headed?"
"Brandon." Kate was awful at small talk. Awful at interactions that weren't planned months in advance. She remembered to be polite. "You?"
"Going all the way," the guy huffed. "Vancouver."
Kate shuddered. "I've only been on this bus an hour and I want to die."
He laughed. "Yeah, it's a long haul." He drummed his fingers on the seat. Kate felt her chest contracting, unsure what to say next. He was cute. She had didn't know the steps to this dance.
The doors clapped shut again. "Off we go," the cheerful guy chirped. "Thanks again for the charger. I'll give it straight back."
"Sure." Kate quickly looked back out the window, thumbing in her headphones. The sun was already setting, and shadows grew long claws past the Tim's as they pulled away.
She thought she saw —
The driver erupted in a coughing fit so bad that suddenly the bus pulled over to the side of the road. The passengers were silent. Finally, someone — not Kate — asked: "Are you okay to drive, man?"
He took a racking breath. Kate saw him turn around and grin weakly at everyone, sunken cheeks deepening. He looked like death.
"Sorry folks," he rasped. "Haven't been able to take a sick day in a while." Soon they were back on the road, heading for the exit to the Number One West again.
As they sped up and changed lanes, Kate realized her heart was hammering behind the locket there. It felt warm.
Kate forced herself to look out the window after exchanging a glance with the guy in the seat ahead. In the distant sky, the full moon was rising.
* * *
Kate dreamed.
"Be careful," Nana was saying. Kate was small again, but her mind was still its twenty-three-year-old self. They had been shelling peas in Nana's tremendous garden. A place of wonder. And of poisonous things.
Kate had plucked a flower. Hensbane, Nana called it. "If you don't know what it is, don't eat it. Caution will save you. Canniness will protect you."
Kate raised the flower to her. "Is this what killed you?" Nana shook her head.
"I had my time, child. I went into death's arms gladly," she said. "But that's not to say I didn't avoid him many times over."
She passed little Kate the locket. It was copper, faded and tarnished from years of being held tight. Nana always wore it. She said it kept her from harm. That inside was something the world should never see again. She told Kate that one day, when she was done in this world, she would pass it on to her. The day she took it off, she died.
Now she clasped Kate's chubby hand around it, clenching her old, gnarled fingers tight. They seemed to dry and crumble the longer she held on, but her eyes were intent.
"Do not let him have it," Nana said.
The garden faded. Kate was running. She had been aware of things on six claw-legs skittering after her, mouths huge and hungry.
Come away, o human child ...
The darkness rushed by. Ahead, a silver procession of gauzy men and women astride horses passed in front of her. She tripped and flew right through them, the tinkling of musical laughter over her head as she landed in the dirt.
They turned their gaze on her, revealing empty sockets. Their mouths slackened, and they decayed as she watched.
To the waters and the wild ...
The woods were all around her now. The boles of the trees loomed skyscraper high, choking out the world. A prison closing in, the moaning screams of a fearsome rage at her heels. She got up to run, but tripped again, gasping, trying to pull herself away from the brink of a chasm at her feet, opening up to a deadly pool.
The chain's locket at her throat tightened as someone caught it, pulling her back. Choking out her life.
* * *
When Kate woke, the bus was dark. The world outside was dark. She couldn't tell where they were, but she'd only shut her eyes a moment. Her heart struck her ribs and her chest burned. She couldn't move. All she could hear was the driver's violent coughing and some passenger chatter at the front of the bus.
She felt the air crackle. Was she still dreaming?
As if underwater, the guy with her phone charger turned around and looked at her. She watched his eyes widen, saw his lips move, but couldn't quite make out the words. Her neck whipped to one side as the world suddenly swerved, and she was thrown rag-doll limp across the aisle as the bus caromed off the exit ramp.
Suspended in the air like a firefly in a shaken jar, Kate loosened and relaxed. She was floating. Everything would be fine. Her hand was around the locket.
The bus collided with the ground and Kate collided with unseen bodies in the dark, and everything went blacker.
* * *
Someone was crying. Kate tried to roll over, her stiff, trembling hand moving over her body to check for injuries. She turned her head. Nothing was broken. Here, wedged between a seat, legs tangled, face pressed to the crushed window underneath her, she was alive.
The crying ebbed into a pitiful hah hah of spent breaths. Aside from this, it was startling how few voices there were. How quiet it was. Kate dragged herself up. She crawled over the seat in front of her, tried to heave herself over to see the state of the rest of the passengers.
The bus was empty. Save for the man who had her phone charger.
He was breathing hard, but he was breathing, and wedged, as she had been, between his seat and the glass.
"Hey," Kate rasped. "Are you okay?"
His eyes were startlingly white in the dark, his face streaked. He'd been the one crying.
His hand came up weakly. His mouth parted, but he didn't speak. Kate crawled over to him, and as soon as she came around the inverted seat, she saw his leg was twisted. She froze, seeing the bone sticking out of the shin.
There was no way she could move him.
"Okay," she said, because there wasn't much else to say. "Okay."
She had to calm down. She had to get help. She patted her sweatshirt, but her phone was gone. She could crawl around in the dark for hours and never find it, and she barely had minutes. Then she remembered.
"The charger." Kate squinted; the little light that came from outside afforded only impressions. She reached for the outlet in front of the guy's seat, did her best not to press into him, and found the cord. Dangling from the other end was his phone.
Kate yanked it free, turned on the screen, swiped. Aside from the original crack, it wasn't damaged, but there were no service bars. She tried the emergency call function.
"Fuck," she squeaked. It wouldn't connect. The guy had been staring at her all this while. Kate couldn't tell if he was growing paler, but it was likely.
"What ... what's your name?" she asked. She was very close to him, but there was nowhere else to go. His mouth was still parted, and she heard him swallow, heard the sound of the lips pressing together to form words in barely a whisper. "What? I can't hear —"
His hand gripped her shirt, pulling her closer. "Don't. Let them. Hear you."
Kate felt a stone in her gut. "Who? Who do you mean?"
The bus was empty. Kate hadn't fully processed that. Where had the other passengers gone? Had the emergency crews been and gone and just missed them? Had they all gone to get help?
"They took them." He pressed his mouth to Kate's ear, and she had no room to shy away. "They'll come back. They —"
A grunting sob of pain overtook him. Kate pulled away. "Look just ... I'm Kate. Okay? I need to get us help. There's no service in here. If I go outside —" His grip tightened, both hands now, teeth clenched. Kate felt the spit on her face. "Don't leave me."
"Stop. Please." Kate's protest was as helpless as she felt. "Just tell me your name."
This close, she could see his terrified eyes. But only a bit. "Alex."
"Alex," Kate repeated as she unhooked his fingers from her shirt. "I'm just going outside. I'll be right outside the door. I'll be right back. Okay?"
She climbed off him, finding purchase by leaning on the seats. It was still hot. She took off her hoodie and put it over his twisted leg. When she looked into his face, it was tight with fear. The tears still streamed.
"I'll be back," she promised, tucking the phone in her jeans as he buried his face in his hands. What the fuck had happened to scare him so bad?
Kate scaled to the front. The door was open and facing the sky. That small bit of light coming in on top of them had been the moon, crystalline and sharp in the black vault. She awkwardly pushed herself out, scrambling until a misstep lumped her onto the grass.
She let out the breath she'd been holding, got to shaky legs. On this side of the bus was an open field, bright under the caustic lunar glare. There was a breeze wrinkling the tall prairie grass, and beyond that, trees. Maybe some kind of wild animal had come? She tried to think of the most plausible explanation for Alex's terror. But that didn't explain the rest of the passengers. There had been at least twenty. Had they left on their own steam? Or had something really taken them?
Kate's body ached. Limping to the other side of the bus, she knew she needed better bearings to get a hold of anyone. Maybe she'd have better luck flagging someone down on the highway. After all, it was a Friday, and traffic would be decent heading west, so her chances ...
But there was no highway.
Kate blinked, looking ahead and behind the wrecked bus for the direction they'd come. She did a full turn and tried to stop her heart from slamming. No highway. No road. No streetlights. No cars. There was nothing. And no one.
She saw the tire marks the bus had left as it careened and crashed here, but they seemed to start from nowhere. The bus was stranded in the middle of a field that went on for miles into black nothing. In the silence and the dark, she could only guess at where they'd ended up. She could barely remember what the last stop had been — Portage la Prairie? Kate's spine stiffened when a howling moan filled the air.
She flattened to the ground, pressing into the wreckage. Something had scuttled by. The tall grass shivered, and it wasn't the wind. The sickening howl came again and closer, and Kate realized she'd heard it before. All she could think of was Alex's warning. Could see his eyes cutting into her, begging.
Please don't leave me.
Kate swallowed a scream as she lurched onto all fours. A crab-clacking sound shivered over the crushed metal of the bus's side. She crawled to the back wheel, jaw tight, and hid in the wreckage's shadow.
Something huge and hulking scurried out of sight.
Before she could move, the shape fell on her, legs, arms — she couldn't tell — slashing. She shut her eyes, flailed, and screamed.
Her leg crunched into the shape's hard body, and there was a scream that made her blood run cold. She rolled out from under it, unable to get her legs under her. She could make out few details: six razor-sharp legs, glinting like polished bones. A heavy, gnarled body. And a twisted face with too many dead eyes.
Something sharp — a spear? — plunged through its heaving, jittering chest. It writhed on the point as it went back out and in again like a sewing needle. Kate counted six punctures before the thing collapsed on its carapace, its six legs now stiffened into claws.
Holding the spear was a man. His eyes were a painful blue.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Kate was insensible, eyes locked on the spear blade dripping black gore. "It ... what ... I ..."
But the man was at her side, strong hand lifting her to stand. She stumbled and he steadied her. He'd stabbed his spear into the ground near the dead thing that was nearly the size of a polar bear.
"What's your name?" he asked, gently. Her pulse was so close to the surface, Kate felt it move the locket.
"Kate," she replied, maybe too willingly.
The stranger's eyes darkened, moving down. He stepped back. "I am sorry I was too late."
Kate staggered, still unsteady but trying not to lose control.
"Too late?"
He went back to reclaim his spear, wiping it clean in the grass. "For the other passengers."
Kate looked from the dead monster to the bus. "There are ... more of these things?" Kate understood Alex's terror now. "Shit." Kate whirled to the other side of the bus. Alex.
She scrambled back inside, clumsy and tripping over the inverted seats, but something inside her already knew what she'd find when she got to the back of the bus.
Alex was gone. All that was left was her sweatshirt.
"Shit," she hissed, mouth twisting. But how? Had that thing gone in, extracted Alex, and passed him off to another monster she hadn't seen? What the good fuck was going on?
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Parallel Prairies"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Darren Ridgley and Adam Petrash.
Excerpted by permission of Great Plains Publications.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Foreword,
The Uncanny Road S. M. Beiko,
They Just Want to Play the Game Sheldon Birnie,
The Comments Gaze Also Into You David Jón Fuller,
Hunger Christine Steendam,
Cod Liver Oil Lindsay Kitson,
Vincent and Charlie Patrick Johanneson,
Seven Long Years Jennifer Collerone,
Reason 4,286 J. M. Sinclair,
All that Cold, All that Dark Keith Cadieux,
We Draw the Lines Will J. Fawley,
Judith Jonathan Ball,
Eating of the Tree Chadwick Ginther,
A Fistful of Wool Darren Ridgley,
Insectum Adam Petrash,
Limestone, Lye, and the Buzzing of Flies Kate Heartfield,
Wisagatcak's Journey Wayne Arthurson,
Anne Blaine Craig Russell,
Summer Friend Chris Allinotte,
My Mother's Familiar Gilles DeCruyenaere,
About the Contributors,
About the Editors,
Editors' Acknowledgements,