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    Monsters Win Wars: A Short Novel
    Monsters Win Wars: A Short Novel
    Monsters Win Wars: A Short Novel
    Ebook65 pages58 minutes

    Monsters Win Wars: A Short Novel

    By Edward Punales

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    About this ebook

    Henry Patrick is locked in a desperate war against the powers that control the solar system. After a dangerous mission goes south, he is saved by the Saurians; reptilian humanoids from a world galaxies away. They say they want to help him. Can they be trusted?

    This story can also be found in the short fiction collection, Worlds on Fire.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEdward Punales
    Release dateAug 8, 2015
    ISBN9781311221643
    Monsters Win Wars: A Short Novel
    Author

    Edward Punales

    I’m a writer, poet, filmmaker, and lover of mythology, science fiction, art, and cheeseburgers.  I’ve published three short story collections, written and/or directed a handful of short films, regularly publish new work on my Medium page, and have spent way too much time on the internet watching old vine complications. I used to write under the pen name Edward Lange, but I switched to my real name in 2015. I live in South Florida.

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      Book preview

      Monsters Win Wars - Edward Punales

      MONSTERS WIN WARS

      Edward Punales

      © 2014, 2015 Edward Punales / All Rights Reserved

      Smashwords Edition

      Cover: Detail from a Computer Simulated Global View of the Northern Hemisphere of Venus. Image by NASA

      This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the copyright holder.

      All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

      Author’s Notes: First, I just want to set the record straight to avoid any confusion. This story was originally published under the pen name Edward Lange. It has been republished here under my real name. Second, this story contains strong language and graphic violence. Reader discretion is advised.

      CHAPTER I

      Henry Patrick lay on the ground, his left hand clutching the place on his stomach where he’d been hit. The man who’d shot him lay mere feet away from Henry, the contents of his head splattered all over the wall behind him. The still smoking plasma pistol that Henry held in his hand was out of ammo. He’d used his last shot on the attacker.

      He looked around him; he was in the parlor room of the Martian villa that he and his insurgents had tried to attack. They’d had intel that President Sallis was here. He wasn’t, but his armed goons were.

      Henry looked around to see if he could spot anyone from his squad. Isaac lay dead just a few feet behind him near the staircase, a smoldering hole on his back where the plasma had hit him. He could hear the gun shots and footfalls of military boots echoing through the halls of the house. The smell of blood and plaster was thick in the air.

      With a painful shove, Henry pushed himself off the ground. Blood continued to drip out through the fingers of his left hand. He finally did get on his feet, and winced as he tried to stand up straight. He had to walk hunched over to lessen the pain.

      The rifle of the man who’d tried to kill him still sat on the ground. Henry walked over to the weapon, and winced again as he bent down to pick it up. It felt very heavy holding it with just one arm, and he found himself struggling to aim it.

      Then he heard an explosion. The villa shook, and he felt dust and plaster fall on his shoulders. The distant sound of gunshots ceased. A cold silence set in. Henry froze, his shaking right hand doing its best to not drop the rifle.

      In the distance, he could faintly hear the sound of people talking. He strained to hear them.

      No, these aren’t him. A voice he did not recognize said.

      Okay, I’ll call King. Then the faint static hiss of a walkie-talkie. King did any of your boys see anyone leave the perimeter? a small voice drenched in static said something that Henry couldn’t make out. Okay. So he’s still somewhere in the house. We’re going to split up.

      Henry’s breathing became heavy. Dark circles began to form at the edges of his vision, and he had to shake them away. He looked down at the ground, and saw the small puddle of blood forming at his feet.

      This way! someone in another room shouted. The sound of footsteps started getting louder. Henry turned, and began to run up the stairs. Blood from his stomach dripped onto the steps as he made his way to the second floor. He remembered something about there being a balcony on the second floor, one that overlooked the artificial lake. If he could get to the balcony, he could jump into the water, and escape the house. From there he might-

      Henry slipped halfway up the stairs, on a small drop of his own blood. He grunted as his body slammed against the steps. His left side felt sore, and he thought he might have bruised a rib.

      Did you hear that? A voice too close for comfort asked. It was coming through an open door way, perpendicular to the foot of the stairs.

      It was by the parlor room. Another answered. This way.

      The footsteps were very loud now, very close. Henry looked up; there were too many steps left. He wouldn’t make it even if he ran. He looked down at the foot of the stairs. The government troops would be there soon. He wasn’t sure if their intention was to kill or capture him, but he’d soon find out.

      He’d lost. The rebellion had failed. He closed his eyes and envisioned the investable chain of events; a tragedy playing in the

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