Hey, General: Volume 1
By Pete Bublitz
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About this ebook
Pete Bublitz
Pete Bublitz is a graduate of Wayne State University and Schoolcraft College, respectively earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts majoring in Journalism and an Associates majoring in Business. Plotting “Hey, General” for the past several years, Pete hopes to follow up this volume with many more.
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Hey, General - Pete Bublitz
Copyright © 2019 by Pete Bublitz.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019915311
ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-7960-6303-5
Softcover 978-1-7960-6302-8
eBook 978-1-7960-6301-1
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Rev. date: 11/14/2019
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800306
37805.pngJANELLE SWUNG AROUND THE door quickly
enough to even accept satisfaction with accident, had a hand crossed the threshold. She’d been chased before, but until now never felt it was by a wave.
The lone evident moisture covered her for the prior half hour and only increased from within, not beyond. The trees never swayed, the birds didn’t shut up, the signs never implied vandals from afar. Only a whoosh, which turned into a hiss, sparked her senses to an alert sprint.
Sliding down to a door-bracing, seated position still bore no influence on breathing. What mattered was not letting any muscle attract sense to her location. The main dread: wondering if her stomach was strained enough to gurgle. That fortunately lasted half a minute, with repeated crashing against the door helping Janelle’s nerves spring her from the entrance to a rollback facing the viewing patio.
Her best bet was diminishing all visibility of herself. She leapt over the couch, already stretched out midair, to land in a laidback position. If only that impact bounce didn’t require hooking the armrest.
From her vantage point, Janelle could spot only the porch section beyond the sliding glass doors’ limits, a fourth of its length continuing behind the limestone wall that backstopped the dining area. Spanning leftward, the balcony ended at a siding of wood cross-fencing, where around the corner of the main interior’s wall an opposite door into the bedroom hid. A number of the property interiors were accustomed depending on the client or designer, but the balcony layouts were mostly synonymous.
Inside, the screen drapes were stretched out enough to disrupt a reflective view of the area behind her; subsequently, the whole of the tiled jay path (getting its shape thanks to a thick, concrete column, around which it curved back up) was too shaded to spot shadows. Not even the light tan of the composite walls suggested something beyond grey on this light a day.
The only suspicious sound was the breeze whistling through the nylon screening that enveloped the balcony fencing. Looking right towards screening adjacent to the dinner table’s viewpoint, a large perforation spanned one-third the way between the ceiling and top fence rail.
Shifting on the cushions in order to peek at the door, Janelle spotted a visual aid: a parallelogram illuminated on the left wall, with two pairs of lines at equal symmetry each.
It brewed in her mind:
I’d spot their silhouettes by now. Maybe break for it… could’ve sworn I heard it click shu…
Mmph, fucking fl.. shit!
Stumbling onto the walkway, she braced against the wall to regain bearings until forced to spin left. She spotted it darting straight forward at the level of her forehead. It hit the wall with a cracking sound, merely bouncing off it and resuming pursuit after a mid-air wobble. She first