Welcome to the September 2023 edition of First Monday Free Fiction. There was no August edition, because I forgot.
To recap, inspired by Kristine Kathryn Rusch who posts a free short story every week on her blog, I’ll post a free story on the first Monday of every month. At the end of the month, I’ll take the story down and post another.
This month’s free story is The Mermaid of Foghorn Point, a story in my Hallowind Cove series. I found myself in Bremerhaven this week and so I felt like posting a maritime story this month.
So follow Paul MacQuarie and Rachel Hammersmith, as they meet…
The Mermaid of Foghorn Point
It was what passed for a pleasant winter evening in the little seaside town of Hallowind Cove, known far and wide as the Harbour of the Weird. The fog that enveloped the town eleven months a year was light tonight, the banks looking more like a bridal veil than a thick woollen blanket.
Paul MacQuarie and Rachel Hammersmith, both relative newcomers to the town, strolled along the little harbour hand in hand. Last year, Paul had inherited a house he didn’t particularly want from a deceased uncle he’d barely known. As for Rachel, she’d first visited Hallowind Cove on one of the rare clear and sunny days and promptly fell in love with a little bakery on Gloomland Street. So she’d bought the bakery, only to find out what the other eleven months in Hallowind Cove were like. In spite of the fog and the general weirdness, both Rachel and Paul had stayed and even bonded over their shared experiences.
Tonight, they were headed for The Croaking Foghorn, a harbourside pub that always offered fresh seafood and good conversation. Okay, so the conversation at The Croaking Foghorn was mostly limited to Ian Rayburn, the talkative barkeeper, and Old Hank, a drunkard who had permanently installed himself on the second barstool from the left. But the seafood — well, that truly was exceptional.
A flicker of movement on the otherwise deserted street attracted Paul’s attention. A shiver ran down his spine, for on particularly foggy nights, a vengeful zombie — pardon, revenant — who wanted Paul dead for a crime committed by one of his ancestors, prowled the docks. Paul’s first encounter with the revenant had been a close shave and the last thing he needed was a repeat of that particular incident.
About the second last thing Paul needed was for Rachel to find out that one of his ancestors had been a ruthless killer and that his name was at the top of the most wanted list of a vengeful zombie as a result. Cause there were some things you really didn’t want to reveal on the first date.
The flicker of movement turned into a flutter of wings. A second later, a raven settled down on one of the bollards that lined the harbour.
Paul relaxed. “Oh, it’s you, Hugo. You just about scared me to death.”
Rachel turned to the raven and smiled. “How is it going, Hugo?”
Although he was a bird, Hugo was one of Hallowind Cove’s most famous or rather infamous residents. For unlike other ravens, Hugo could talk — well, sort of. At any rate, his croaking sounded very much like talking. He was also a veritable Cassandra and inevitably uttered dark warnings. Much of the time, they were even true.
“Tu-urn a-round,” Hugo croaked, “Go home.”
“Oh please, Hugo,” Paul said, “We’re just having dinner at The Croaking Foghorn. And besides, the fog isn’t very thick tonight. No danger that he’ll be there.”
“No danger that who’ll be there?” Rachel wanted to know.
Paul felt the blood rush to his cheeks and wondered if he could blame it on the cold wind that blew along the quay. “Just a re… resident of sorts who doesn’t like me. He’s sometimes on the docks, when the fog is particularly thick. But tonight he is at home or should be.”
If vengeful zombies actually had a home, that was.
“Tu-urn a-round,” Hugo repeated, “Go home.”
He fixed Paul and Rachel with eerily glittering eyes.
“No fish to-day,” he croaked.
Rachel shook her head. “Now that makes hardly any sense at all. As usual.”
“Wa-arned you,” Hugo croaked. He took off and fluttered ahead, only to settle on another bollard further down the street.
“Te-ell her,” he croaked and nodded at Paul.
Paul sighed. “Just shut up, Hugo,” he said good-naturedly.
After all, he had a date tonight, the first since coming to Hallowind Cove, and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it, least of all a raven with delusions of clairvoyance.
Hugo did indeed shut up. And up ahead, the lights of The Croaking Foghorn were coalescing from the mist, a beacon in the gloomy night.
***
This story was available for free on this blog for one month only, but you can still read it in The Mermaid of Foghorn Point. And if you click on the First Monday Free Fiction tag, you can read this month’s free story.
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