It's here somewhere, I can feel it like a fresh wound.
I just have to keep digging.
Just have to...Dammit.
How long have I been saying that?
How long have I been out here?
Days? Weeks?
Huh. What does it matter?
It'll all wash away in the same river of fire and black anyway.
That's what they don't tell you about traveling the stars, that time stops meaning a damn thing. That all you have is one, long day.
One long, never ending...
Shut up.
Look at me getting distracted ... again. Can you imagine, I'm supposed to be a professional?
Samuele Ingram, Fortune Hunter.
Sam the Tracker.
Sam the Killer.
Sam who could find a speck of Palladium on the back of an asteroid traveling along the business end of a black hole.
One Life Sam who, through it all, managed to keep the same body he was born in.
They call me a legend.
Whole lot of good that's doing me now...
Feel sorry for yourself later Sam, still a lot more digging to do.
2.
I'm running out of time, and I'm plain out of chances.
I burned up my last one to get my boat back off the ground. Cost me almost every cent I had to bring it out of retirement.
What little was left, went into putting fuel in the ship, charge in my gun, and food in my belly.
If I'm wrong and it's not here, I'll barely have enough gas in the tank to limp home, and the only thing in my belly will be whatever Life Support can scrounge together out of my waste.
Funny that, people always told me I was full up to my eyeballs in crap, now I can only hope they're right.
Stop sulking Sam, it's time better spent digging, and none of it matters anyway – if you don't find it before she catches up with you.
YOU ARE READING
A Year of Stories
Short StoryThe goal: A new short story, every weekday, for a year. That's about 260 stories, for anyone keeping count. This is Volume #1, covering January and February stories. Inside you'll find a mix of Fantasy, Literary and Science Fiction, occasionally...
