By Kameron Hurley
Amassed brief fiction from Kameron Hurley, writer of God's War.
Mysterious girls invade a steamy, tropical global, and a squad of mad,
war-weary girls pass at the hunt for guns of mass destruction. Head out
to the wasteland the place an getting older army chief activates her beloved
matriarchy, and stopover at an international the place your gender determines what facet of
the struggle you're on.
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Extra info for Brutal Women: The Short Stuff
For a second, it looked as if the rain that was pelting them was evaporating, like drops on hot metal, a few millimeters above Zanna’s head. Deeba stared, but dark drifts hid her friend. The motor was louder. A car was approaching. The girls were shrouded in gritty smoke. They spluttered in panic and tried to call to each other. They could see almost nothing. The noise of the motor grew, and glints of reflected streetlamp-light winked momentarily through the fumes. “Wait a minute,” Zanna shouted.
He was about their age, very thin and wiry, dressed in odd patched-up grubby clothes. His hair was messy, his face shrewd. He was raising an eyebrow. ” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “You ain’t scared of a trashpack, are you? Pests like them? ” He lobbed another stone. “If you’re that yellow, why you off walking in the Backwall Maze? You wouldn’t like it if they came swanning into your manor, would you? ” He nodded and half-grinned, gave them a little salute, then strode off away from the wall, brushing dirt from his already dirty clothes.
None of them had paid any attention when the door opened, until they’d realized that the woman who’d come in was standing quietly by their table. One by one they looked at her. She’d been wearing a bus driver’s uniform, the cap at a perky angle. She was grinning. “Sorry to butt in,” the woman said. ” She smiled at all of them but addressed Zanna. ” The girls stared in dumb astonishment for several seconds. ” and Deeba had started laughing. None of this fazed the woman. She said a nonsense word.