“Cereal Stalker” Part 4

Cereal Stalker: Part 4


Scott Harper



Still emulating a fish, I rushed at the dock, swimming full speed ahead. Just before I reached the heavy wooden planking, I angled upward, tapping into the cloud of childish imagination commanded by the cereal that currently fueled my power.

You may or may not realize it, but sharks are fish. Not everyone is aware of this. Yes, sharks are fish. Another thing not everyone knows is that they can jump right out of the water. Yes, these fish, easily weighing in at over half a ton, can leap. They’ve been known to reach heights of up to sixteen feet on a leap. They basically do this by pointing their snouts at the water’s surface and kicking their powerful tails, charging toward the open air.

I did the same thing; my magickal ability tapping into the imagination attached to the cereal I had just eaten.

I breached the surface, carrying a small geyser up with me. To anyone watching, I’m sure it looked really dramatic. I focused, though, on finding the gunmen. I spotted the first one before landing on the dock. While still in the air, I switched over to an ability owned by another fish represented in the cereal I’d eaten.

Archerfish can spit a jet of water out of their mouths that may reach up to sixteen feet away—coincidentally about as high as a great white shark can jump. Well, you know what they say about the truth and fiction.

I spat out two quick streams of water, one right after the other. The first struck the gunman’s weapon hand. It didn’t hit hard, but there must have been a large element of surprise involved. He dropped his gun. The second stream caught him in the face. He staggered back off the edge of the dock and dropped into the water. As he floundered—no pun intended… Well, okay, slightly intended—my soggy shoes came down on the wooden planks.

A second gunman turned my way as I dove for cover. He couldn’t have gotten more than a glimpse of me, but it was enough. He fired off two quick rounds. Bullets plunked off the heavy yellow-painted steel of one of the cargo winches, ricocheting away.

Taking a quick look around, I gauged the positions of the remaining three gunmen. One, the one who had shot at me, paced only a couple yards away, closing quickly. The other two, evidently drawn in by the shots their friend had taken at me, were walking quickly up behind him.

More importantly was where they were all standing. It was time to finish this before anyone else started shooting.

 To Be Concluded…


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