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07/28/2014
Issue #11 has been released and can be downloaded by clicking on the cover image below.


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Encounters 11 CoverJuly 28, 2014
Issue #11 is now available for download. Just right-click on the image to the left and select "save as" to download your free copy.


BLOOD SPORT
by Diana Corbitt
      I threw him an easy lob, seventy tops, and my jaw dropped. Watching Obby catch a ball was like watching a praying mantis snag a mosquito.  
     Obby ignored me and looked at the radar gun. “Not bad for starters. You hit ninety-six.”
     “Ninety-six? Seriously? I thought I…” This vampire thing was looking better and better.
     “And forget about pulling a muscle, Kid. You can’t do it, so let’s quit fooling around. As my old friend, Satchel Paige, used to say, put a little mustard on it.”
     Okay, if he wanted mustard, I’d give him mustard. I reached back and gave him all I had. The ball surged forward, smacking Obby’s waiting hand into his chest with a crack that echoed across the field and knocked him backward into the dirt, sending the radar gun flying.
     Holy shit, had I killed him? Had the ball actually gone into his chest?
     I stood there, unsure of what to do. Calling 911 didn’t seem like an option, and I didn’t know any other vampires. I trotted across the grass to find a flat on his back Obby grinning up at the stars. He sat up, flexed his hand, and reached across the dirt for the radar gun. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, one-seventy-four. It put a nice little tingle into my fingers, and I didn’t have to move the glove one inch.”
     “One-seventy-four?” I slammed my glove into the dirt. “Hell, yeah! Let’s go again. I bet I can get it up to one-eighty, or maybe even two hundred.”
     Looking half as pleased as I expected him to, Obby dropped the radar gun and walked over to me. “Tommy, you know you can’t throw that way in front of people.”

THE BOX
by T. J. Koll
     In time, he fell asleep at the kitchen table, but he woke up only an hour or so later. With eyes still shut, Garrett raised his head--snorting, coughing, and finding it difficult to breath. Something was clogging his nose, and in his still foggy mind he wondered if he’d caught a cold. As his hands moved to smear away any drool or snot on his face, however, he discovered something far more horrifying: a cable, connected at one end to the box, was protruding from his left nostril.
     He jolted fully awake, panicking, and tried to yank it from his nose, but the cable was deep and refused to budge. Grunting, terrified, he tried again to pull it out, but a bolt of pain through his head quickly convinced him to stop.
     “Stay with me,” buzzed a voice from the device, though this time it sounded feminine and was almost a whisper.

OUTSIDE THE BOX
by Holly Day
     “Welcome to Jurassic Colorado,” said Bridget, glancing down at the note card Dr. Scheul had slipped into her hand just as she and her first group of the day reached the Box. She could barely make out his handwriting. She folded up the card and put it in her pocket. She would have to wing it. “How many of you kids have been to Dinosaur National Park in Colorado?”
     Five or six little hands shot up. Bridgett smiled brightly at the group of kindergartners trailing her, a couple of bedraggled-looking teachers in tow. “I’ve never been there,” she confessed. “Did it look anything like this?” She pushed the button for the door and stepped into the Box, praying there would be a dinosaur waiting for her this time.
     There was. A herd of five or six sauropods stood chest-deep in water, bright green strings of pondweed hanging from their mouths. It was incredibly picturesque. “Thank goodness,” Bridgett muttered to herself as the school group filed in behind her, shrieking and cooing with delight. She would have to stop by the Doc’s office later to compliment him on his selection of the site. The gift shop would be swamped with kids looking for a plastic Barosaurus to take home with them after today.


WATCHING PAINT DRY
by Felicia A. Lee
     "Crazy Miz Ellen locked herself in there, like Earl told you. She starts screaming and yelling all sorts of stuff about hell and the devil and stuff, and her kids were still in the main part of the house with Miz Ellen’s brother – your great-great-something-uncle. Earl didn’t tell you that part?"
     I shook my head. Maybe Earl didn’t know this version.
     "Anyhow, Brady goes, Miz Ellen goes on screaming and yelling for about a week –it’s a wonder she kept her strength. Then finally she starts screaming she wants to see her kids, but she still won’t come out or let anyone else in but the kids. So they send the kids in – don’t know what they were thinking. Maybe they thought it would calm her down. Well, it didn’t. Soon after they get in there, she locks the door behind them and soon they’re screaming and yelling Stop hurting me Mamma, stop hurting me Mamma and stuff. Then it was all silent. Like scary silent.
     "So they break down the door, Brady says, and sure enough, find the poor kids dead – tortured then strangled. It was pretty ugly – among other things, she’d poked their eyes out."
     Then I remembered Skeeter’s drawing. Holy crap.
     "Yeah, and ol’ Miz Ellen poisoned herself too," Brady goes. "But here’s the worst part – wait, no, if I told you Earl would kill me. And trust, me, you’d rather not know."
     Then the waitress puts my pancakes in front of me. They looked really good but now I didn’t feel like eating. God, how could that story possibly get WORSE?


THE DEVIL CAME TO ME AND BID ME SERVE HIM

by Douglas Lind
      Turning her attention to the congregation at large she drew deeply on her pipe, exhaled and began speaking low and clear.
      “I’m gonna tell you something my mamma told me.  Something her mamma told her. A story going so far back nobody knows when it began. None of you are natives to these parts. None of you. Long before you all were ever thought about, this land carried a horror you never dreamed of. The Pestilence, as the savages came to call it, raged for years and years. As the weekly toll of the dead rose, parents implored their children to scatter throughout the hills in the hope that some would be spared.”
     Pausing to take another drag she shrugged her shoulders and continued.
     “But there was no place for them to go. You can ignore the summons, but you’ll just get marked. And in Its pursuit, the Pestilence knows no boundaries.”



 

07/28/2014
ENCOUNTERS
MAGAZINE

Issue #11

AVAILABLE NOW


Download the two previous issues here:

Issue #09
Encounters 09 cover
 

Issue #10
Encounters 10 cover


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