True to form, I’ve once again procrastinated updating the blog. I could blame the month of trading colds and flus with my son where I was incapacitated with illness, or I could attribute the delay to the holiday season, but let’s be honest- I’m uploading works already completed by OTHER PEOPLE. There is truly no excuse. But, on that note, it’s the 27th of December and we are fast-approaching a New Year. And what is a New Year but a serendipitous time to channel our hopes and dreams into resolutions and goals. The first on my list of intentions will be to stop procrastinating. So with that, let’s all be hopeful for my success, so that you can peruse the literary submissions of our Good Wolf community on a more regular basis. Now, let me introduce you to our second submission, from the local writer Kirk McDougall, originally submitted to the Port Coquitlam Flash Fiction contest in 2020, Kirk won Second Runner Up! The contest was a collaborative effort with the City of Port Coquitlam and Western Sky Books. I had the pleasure of attending an anniversary function for Western Sky Books. Owner Tamara is an integral part of the community and supports local businesses and artists, providing such a warm and welcoming space with books stacked to the ceiling and beautiful local paintings and creations. I had the pleasure of serving coffee, and beautifully decorate cookies were provided by Cassandra Cake Co. I sat listening to local authors and poets share their works, filled with gratitude to be a part of this local, female forward event. So please enjoy Kirk’s PoCo based action-adventure spy story. In his words, “I love to see people Smile.”
You can find more of Kirk’s work at the links below.
https://twitter.com/KDMcDougall
https://www.facebook.com/KDMcDougallAuthor
The Package by Kirk McDougall
An explosion shattered the apartment door. As smoke billowed in, Angie secured the package, ran out onto the balcony, six floors above ground, and jumped. As she flew over the railing, her hand shot out and grabbed the rope, ever at the ready. Once the line was taut, it swung her back toward the building into the apartment below. Feet first, she burst through the door, spraying glass throughout the room. It was vacant, a stroke of luck.
Angie popped her head out the hallway door and heard footsteps in the stairwell to the left. It forced her to go right, toward the elevator. To confuse her pursuers and buy precious seconds, she pressed the down button and continued to the stairwell. They would expect her to go down, so she went up. At the top, she burst through the door and ran across the roof. A twenty-foot gap between buildings loomed in front of her. She jumped and landed with only her toes touching the ledge. Twirling her arms kept her balance.
“On the roof,” yelled one of the agents.
A shot rang out. It was easier to explain a private investigator who had fallen off a roof than one with bullet holes in her, so they had aimed at the ledge. It shattered, and Angie fell. She grabbed at each of the balconies as she plummeted. Her hands connected a few times. It slowed her momentum enough that she could stop by grabbing the second-floor railing, but it slammed her into the side of the balcony. The glass held, but the jolt sent a flash of pain through her shoulder. She jumped to the ground, rolled, and came up running. Her shoulder throbbed.
Angie rounded the apartment building corner as bullet spray shattered the wood. With a smile, she climbed into her armoured SUV. Once inside, tires screeched as she sped down Village Drive, skidded onto Sherling, and turned onto Lougheed.
Two trucks chased her. By the time Angie approached the overpass, the red truck had pulled up on her left side. A gun stuck out the passenger window. Angie hit the brakes. The blue pickup was only a few feet behind the SUV and rammed her reinforced bumper. The red overshot and had to go on to the Lougheed Connector. She cranked the wheel to the right, ignored the Wrong Way signs, and bounded over concrete barriers through the fast-food parking lot.
Angie’s SUV shot out onto the Lougheed Connector heading south. The red truck had turned off of the highway and was going north. She skidded into a right turn, and back onto Lougheed. The blue pickup was still trying to get the engine started. The red was going the wrong way. Angie had gained a few seconds, but by the time she turned left onto Shaughnessy, the red truck had found her. He was right on her tail as they sped under Kingsway. She skidded around the corner onto Wilson. With her foot to the floor, she still couldn’t shake the guy. He pulled up beside her. The passenger pointed his gun out the window as they approached the Rec Centre.
Angie cranked the wheel hard to the right. It took her up the path and past the library. The SUV burst through the Rec Centre doors, sending glass shards throughout the foyer. A sharp left and then a right made her vehicle skid to a stop. She jumped out and leaped into the elevator. Safe inside, she pulled up the covert phone app that controlled the elevator’s unique functions. It took her to the secret floor below the ice arena, where she entered an organization known only as The Agency.
Angie strode into the director’s office, a grin on her face. She threw a package onto his desk and said, “Here’s your parcel.”
“Still intact. Unlike our foyer,” said the director.
“Why’s it so important?” Angie ignored the man’s sarcasm.
“It’s a new seed with a yield that’s far better than anything else. We can grow a tremendous amount of food in a small area. The country that owns this seed can feed a spaceship crew on a voyage to Mars or anywhere.”
“A good payday then?” said Angie.
The director shook his head. “By the time I take off money for damages, you’ll have just enough to buy a cheeseburger.”
Angie shrugged. “Better than last time.”