Oddman Sample

This is a portion of my short story that just came out in the anthology, Out of the Storm. The book includes short stories

from several genres and was part of a writing contest. All entries had to be under 6K words and include a storm, thus, the title. The proceeds from the book help fund a scholarship for writers wanting to attend the American Christian Fiction Writers national conference. My entry was in the spec fic genre (sci fi). One reviewer said it was too violent for her, another said it was a little too Avatar. Both of which made me very happy.

This is as much of it as I can include.  

“Oddman”

by Carla Hoch

Third Place – Speculative Fiction

“Toxic rain. Just one of the many disadvantages of living
on a planet less evolved than you,” Oddman grumbled. He
wiped streaks of noxious water off the visor of his helmet
with his sleeve. The wretched bio-suit was bulky, hot, and
rendered the fine bristles on his fingertips useless, making
it that much harder to climb trees and harvest fruit, never
mind walking, running, and simply looking around. The
last three were a real issue, considering the vlezguite. They
were fast, ferocious and highly skilled at ripping a being in
two. Given the opportunity, Oddman would choose a
lighter suit. He’d rather risk being burned by acid than
ripped in half.
Someone called his name, his true, given name, the one
he was unable to pronounce. ‘Oddman’ was as close as he
could get, so the nickname had stuck.
“Got room for another?” His picking partner held out a
fruit.
Oddman checked the bag strapped to his back, then
extended a hand through the branches to take the orange
citrus. Before putting it in his sack, he, without thinking,
held it up to his helmet and sniffed.
“You do that every day.” His buddy threw a rotten fruit.
Its bright, pulpy insides smashed against Oddman’s visor.

“Out of the Storm” Anthology 31

“I like the smell, ok?” He scooped a chunk away and
flung it back through the branches, then laughed.
His partner hesitated and twisted his mouth the way he
always did when he mentally navigated through Oddman’s
speech impediment. “Ah, yes,” he nodded. “If only you
could smell it every day. If only it were in the filtration
system and every single thing in the dome reeked of it.”
Oddman rolled his brown eyes. “Not the same.”
“And, if you could smell through the helmet, you’d
smell the rain.” His partner paused to pluck, then hand
Oddman, another sunfruit. “And if you smelled the rain…”
“And if you smelled the rain,” Oddman mocked.
“You know, you ought to talk like that all the time. It’s
way more intelligible than your regular speech.”
“Shhh.” Oddman held up his hand. He looked through
the trees, narrowing his eyes. “I saw something.”
“What is it?” His partner widened his already large eyes
and gasped dramatically. “Not… Kfonyls?” He feigned a
silent, terrified scream.
“Hard to tell. I’ve got sunfruit on my visor.”
“How’d that happen?”
“Can’t imagine,” Oddman smirked, then tipped his
head back to allow the rain to wash away the pulp. “But, if
it were Kf…” He worked his lips and tongue, trying to form
the word in his oddly shaped mouth silently before saying
it aloud, but then gave up. “If it were slave traders, you’d
be safe. They wouldn’t want you.”
“Oh, what then? Rippers? You’re paranoid, Odds. We
haven’t seen one in a month. They’ve migrated.”
Oddman scaled down to the branch below and adjusted
his night vision.

32 Carla Hoch – Oddman

“You and your weird alien eyes.”
“They see better than yours.” Oddman squinted to focus
through the rain. “Harvey, I know I saw someth-”
A piercing scream cut through the darkness. Oddman
and Harvey looked at one another.
The alarm sounded. It whirred with a waxing then
waning moan, calling the dozens of pickers to the ground.
They jumped from the trees and ran, some for the vehicles,
others directly for the hologram of swarming insects in the
distance that marked the concealed entrance to dome.
More screams, then a roar sounded through the din of
the alarm. Harvesters jumped from the very tops of the
trees. Before landing safely, sharply hooked claws reached
out and snatched some, pulling them back into the orchard.
“Come on, Harvey!” Oddman pointed. “The vehicles
are leaving.”
“I can’t, I’m caught on a branch.”
“Cut it.”
“I’m trying,” the being cried back. “The picking knife
won’t go through.”
A thud sounded at the base of the tree. Oddman looked
down and recoiled in horror. The head of one of the pickers
lay face up, looking at him, its iridescent blood glowing
faintly for just a moment before the vestige of life faded.
“Harvey!” Oddman shimmied up and stabbed at
Harvey’s snagged suit sleeve with his own knife.
The being grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him. “It’ll fry
me, Odd. Stop!”
“You might survive the rain.” Oddman slapped his
partner’s visor. “But you won’t make it from a ripper.”