Jazz, Monster Collector in: Downtown Clowntown (Season One, Episode Three)

By RyFT Brand

Jazz, Season One, Episode Three

Injuries from the fight with the organ binder forced Jazz to use the Not Now Stone. Now the clock’s ticking. She has less than twenty-four hours to get out of Clowntown and back to her office to scrub the stone in her pickle jar of Soul-lution or she’ll suffer every injury the stone ever healed four-fold. The good news is that she only has seven more block to go to reach the hover-rail, the bad news is that a gang of clowns lays between her and that train.

Hoping to avoid a pointless fight, Jazz takes refuge in the one building the Clowns haven’t vandalized, she’s going to discover that there’s a very good reason the goblin gangs left this house alone. Even if she manages to overcome the house’s horrid occupant, she still have to face the clowns, and time, for her, is quickly running out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tricorner Publishing
• Release date: Jul 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452411675

RyFT Brand

RyFT Brand is one of the pen names of writer Robert F Thompson. He lives, writes, wonders, and wanders from Bucks County, Pennsylvania. His first novel, A Book of Beginnings was published in 2001. he's just so weird.

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Jazz, Monster Collector in:

Downtown Clowntown

season one, episode three

RiFT

Tricorner Publishing’s Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to

persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

JAZZ, Monster Collector

Season One: Earth’s Lament

RiFT

Season-1, Episode-3: Downtown Clowntown

I was deep inside Clowntown, one of the most dangerous places this side of the wilds. The Not Now Stone had regenerated my battered, beaten, burned, and partially digested body. I’d decided to ignore my usual apprehensions and be thankful about having used it. I was back in fighting shape, but my clothes were tattered and stained…with my blood. I was starving and the clock was ticking. I still had over twenty-three hours to find my way out of this monster ghetto, but if anything kept me from reaching the jar of soul-lution at my office in Nitsburg, I would suffer a horrible, and excruciating, series of injuries. I needed to scrub the stone and I couldn’t let anything get between me and that old pickle jar.

When I heard the laughing, I knew that something was about to get in my way.

Clowns, just great; they had about as much love for me as I did for them. Given better circumstances I would have set up an ambush and dusted these creeps, but my situation was dire at best. Still, considering my strategic options, an ambush might be my least unattractive option—it would certainly be fun.

But I’d try hiding first.

I reached inside my cotton jacket, drew the macdaddy revolver from my shoulder harness, and moved as quickly and as quietly as I could, backtracking my steps to an old brick building I’d passed earlier.

I stopped outside