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The Vanguard
The Vanguard
The Vanguard
Ebook30 pages22 minutes

The Vanguard

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Minou loves bringing freshly killed mice to her human, showing off her hunting skills.

But tonight someone steals her freshly caught offering. Someone big and scary. And alien.

Turns out Minou had a job to do. And the bosses are here to collect.

The Vanguard follows Minou on her mission to save her human, the invaders, and more.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 10, 2019
ISBN9791095707042
The Vanguard
Author

R.W. Wallace

R.W. Wallace writes in most genres, though she tends to end up in mystery more often than not. Dead bodies keep popping up all over the place whenever she sits down in front of her keyboard. The stories mostly take place in Norway or France; the country she was born in and the one that has been her home for two decades. Don't ask her why she writes in English - she won't have a sensible answer for you. Her Ghost Detective short story series appears in Pulphouse Magazine, starting in issue #9. You can find all her books, long and short, on rwwallace.com.

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    Book preview

    The Vanguard - R.W. Wallace

    The Vanguard

    A Feline Science Fiction Short Story

    R.W. Wallace

    image-placeholder

    Varden Publishing

    Contents

    One

    Two

    Three

    About the Author

    Also By R.W. Wallace

    Copyright

    One

    The evening breeze ruffled my fur as I scanned the grass, immobile except for my tail swishing back and forth. The last of the daylight slanted across the lawn, the sky already a dark orange.

    I could make out every little detail, from the broken strands of cut grass, to the three remaining feathers of the swallow I’d killed two days ago, to the bees buzzing happily in the lavender bush by the well.

    If anything moved, I’d see it. I wasn’t like my pathetic human, who could hardly see anything, even by daylight, and who became practically blind once the sun set.

    Of course, a dead mouse wasn’t supposed to move at all. But it wasn’t in the little hollow where I’d left it earlier.

    I’d always thought the hollow was the ideal location for showing off my catch to my human; the light from the house hit it just right, making the blood glint when seen from the terrace, it was hidden from view to anyone in the pine forest that stretched out behind the lawn, and, well, it was just the right size and shape for playing with a mouse until it died. The mixed scent of earth, blood, and grass really got my appetite going.

    I’d caught this one when the sun was at its zenith and the heat had inspired me to go hunting in the shade of the great pines, but it had fought valiantly until the sky in the east turned first purple, then pink. The little thing had tried again and again to get away, pumping on its tiny little legs with all its might, clearly not realizing that if I could catch him when he

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