Cobra or Mr. Cobra: A Rucksack Universe Story: Rucksack Universe

By Anthony St. Clair

The bite is worse than the burn.

Not knowing who he is, where he is, or what he is, Unnamed awakens under a dark sky full of smoke. Who is he? Why are his clothes… and his skin… in tatters? In a world on fire, what sort of person will he become?

The Rucksack Universe series combines alternate history, speculative fiction, myth, adventure, globetrotting, and intrigue—all with well-poured pints of beer. Library Journal says Anthony St. Clair's storytelling has "universe building reminiscent of Terry Pratchett," and readers say they love the Rucksack Universe's unique combination of "quirk, wit, travel, and magic."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anthony St. Clair
• Release date: Mar 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781940119359

Anthony St. Clair

Anthony St. Clair creates compelling fiction and non-fiction for a curious world full of everyday discoveries, endeavors, and surprises. He is the author of the ongoing Rucksack Universe series; covers craft beer, food, business, and more for various publications; and is a copywriter and content manager for select clients. When not at his desk or in his kitchen in Oregon, Anthony is on an adventure with his wife, son, and daughter.

Book preview

Cobra or Mr. Cobra

Cobra or Mr. Cobra

A Rucksack Universe Story

Anthony St. Clair

Rucksack Press

Contents

1. The Waves Glowed Darkly Red

2. The Flame You Can Wear

3. A Light of White and Orange

Thank You for Reading

Become a Wanderer

Also by Anthony St. Clair

Acknowledgments

Special Features

Sneak Peek

About the Author

The cobra will bite you whether you call it cobra or Mr. Cobra.

—Guru Deep, Travels Through the Third Eye

1

The Waves Glowed Darkly Red

Behind closed eyes, in the midst of the white blinding brightness, Unnamed saw it.

All the things you thought were real. Spied out of the corner of the eye, then flitting away like fog in high sun. Scraps of dreams fading as you woke. Unnamed saw it all, and it all made sense now. Nothing hides the truth like light. Yet at the heart of the brightness, he knew it. Saw the silver and golden shine. Heard the crunching, flowing hum. Breathed in the scent of roses and rot. And let the mild, sneaky, nutty, salty flavor of all secrets roll on the tongue. A little shining darkness. The shadow in the glare. It tasted kind of like warm, salted edamame.

Unnamed’s dark eyes opened, and as if for the first time he realized there was something outside his mind. Outside his body. As if the world hadn’t existed until the moment he thought to be aware that there was something beyond himself.

Chill winds blew over his, what was it? Ah. Skin. That’s right. Skin. Little scraps of cloth waved against his tall, broad, strong body like ocean fronds swaying in a current. Or maybe those little scraps were the skin. Either way, the waving scraps were like a saw, flowing back and forth, each time cutting with sharper pain.

Oh. His skin. He remembered know. Or understood it for the first time. It was hard to keep it all straight. What he’d seen while his eyes were closed. What had been there, in the world, the dark void, in that moment his eyes had opened before the sense of the world came rushing in to overwhelm his senses and brain and heart.

But skin. Skin he could understand. The body’s blanket, never meant to be removed. His left hand was splayed out at the end of his straightened arm, the skin golden brown, all but glowing even in the dark. Unnamed stared at his left arm. Was it the shadows? No. Shadows didn’t happen at night. Shadows came in tattered fragments when the sun’s bright light tore up that sweet blanket of darkness. You could see so clearly in the dark. The trick was knowing how. Somehow, though, he realized, others typically didn’t. Couldn’t. They thought they saw best in the light, yet they did not see that it was the light that blinded them.

He clenched and unclenched his fingers. Fingertips scrabbled