CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by J. Posthumus (feel good novels txt) 📗

Bas got up from where he’d wound up sitting on the shell, near the sprawled form of Gert, who was catching her breath, and jetted up to the far end of the strip.

Sam, below him on the ladder, barked. “Bend it. Let’s start threading net onto it.”

“Uh, sir?” Bas wasn’t sure how to explain.

Sam got his head up into the core and took it all in with a sweeping glance. Chamberlain, whimpering quietly, was rolled into one of the two big cargo nets. Lindsey and Helen were sitting on him, just in case. Jake was returning from retrieving the butterfly net and had snagged a chicken with it on general principle while he was at it.

Sam didn’t even blink, calmly stepping out of the tube onto the shell. “One of those cargo nets will do. Ever see a crawfish trap?”

“Um, nossir,” Bas admitted.

“I have.” Gert stood up. “Bas, can you circle that around?”

Bas could, he found. His boss had managed to coax the temperamental extruder into doing the near impossible. Soon they had a hoop the size of the core’s shell, with net strung on it, funneling to a center opening.

“You’re going to walk.” Sam told the husbandry techs. “Along the shell, holding this. Helen and I will help so we have hands at the ordinal points. Jake and Bas will collect any that make it through.” Sam pulled off the knapsack he’d been wearing and pulled out two oversized mesh bags. Bas was afraid to ask where they had come from.

“Also, while I am aware chickens can fly, Ms. Saar, I do not suggest throwing them into the chasm.” He pointed toward the tube.

Bas choked as he caught the joke.

Sam ignored him and continued. “I should have enough bags in here to hold all the chickens. We will then relay them, and, ah, the other bundle, down with the pulley.” He tugged out a length of tube. “Here’s the connector.”

Helen took it from him and pushed the ends of the strip into it, finishing the hoop.

“Uh, sir? Shouldn’t we send Chamberlain down first?” Jake pointed.

Sam got a good grip on the hoop net. He glanced over. “Is that who it is? He’ll keep.” A sudden grin flashed over his face. “Let’s go chicken hunting. Bas! Head ‘em out!”

Bas grinned back and squeezed the throttle, zipping between chickens who squawked indignantly. He swooped back and through the hole in the net, hollering as he did so. Jake followed right on his heels.

“Gittem, boys!” Helen called.

They all started to move along the core, catching chickens and leaving the squirming netted man behind them. Bas started to laugh.

The last bag of chickens in his hand, Bas came back to the access tube. Everyone else was packed and gone, and only Gert still waited, holding her hands out for the sack of fowl.

Bas put his feet down on the shell. “Hey, Gert?”

She clipped the sack to the pulley and started it down. “Yes?”

“Well, we’re going to be catching chickens and closing doors for weeks, I think.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But, uh, would you like to do lunch some time again?”

She started to giggle. “Without Lindsey or chickens, this time!”

The End

About the Author

Cedar Sanderson hasn't always been a writer. But as far back as she can remember, there have been chickens. Chickens like strange fruit roosting in trees, chickens that laid a rainbow of eggs… Currently, she is lacking fowl, but has managed to write eight novels, uncounted short stories, and in some of them, there are chickens. But, mostly, the stories are fantasy and science fiction. She is also an artist who has a coloring book out, and another one on the way. Yes, there are chickens in there, too!

You can find out more about Cedar at her website, www.cedarwrites.com: not only will there be writing updates, but photos of… you guessed it. Chickens.

Chickening Out A Shifters United Story

Margo Bond Collins

Chickening Out Margo Bond Collins

When Tori Lansing gets attacked by a chicken at a farmhouse, she’s pretty sure she’s had the worst day ever—but then she meets her sexy new neighbor, Niall Fillan, and things start looking up. Until she starts to change, and figures out that was no ordinary chicken…

Chapter 1 Tori

I am in clucking hell.

Literally.

Tori aimed a second kick at the squawking chicken making a run at her. “Shoo! Get away from me.”

The chicken backed off a little, turning its head from side to side, pointing its beady little eyes at her as if trying to decide where to hit her next.

“Quit glaring at me, you stupid bird,” she muttered.

I hate my job.

Glancing down at the clipboard in her hand, she took another step toward the house. The chicken moved alongside her, almost as if it were pacing her.

“I just need to talk to anyone inside.”

Dammit. I’m talking to a chicken.

Chickens weren’t predators. It couldn’t possibly be stalking her. Right?

She spoke softly, making her voice as calm as possible. “I’m going to knock on the door and see if anyone’s home.”

Carefully, she took another step. The bird watched her warily. A second step, then a third. “Almost to the door now.”

But when she stepped up onto the bottom step, the chicken exploded into action in a flurry, all feathers and beak and screaming squawks.

Stumbling back from the steps and windmilling her arms—either to keep her balance or repel the animal, even Tori wasn’t sure—she let out her own screech. But the chicken ignored her attempts to scare it away, aiming for her ankles.

“Ow! Stop, stop, stop!” she shouted as it pecked at her. Without even thinking about it, she raced to the safety of her tiny gray Mazda. Opening the car door, she ducked behind it, using it as a shield while she clambered in. At the last instant, she thought to pull the door back enough