Sci-Fi with a Twist - From My Cold Dead Hands Home

Stories filled with amazing tales of Time travel, outer space, adventure, and murder are all subjects you'll find in the new book by Jack Legend that stretches your imagination to new heights.

Jack Legend is a writer of science fiction that favors a classic bend toward time travel, thrillers, and outer space dramas.

Jack's 1st legendary science fiction novel is on its way featuring amazing science fiction short stories that will blow you away. Tentatively entitled, " Sci-Fi with a Twist" . Look for it  at Amazon.             Amazon Author  Facebook

science fiction short stories
Order the book at Amazon
Short science fiction and fantasy stories that, more often than not, end with a surprise or twist you couldn’t see coming. Transport yourself to other lives and other worlds where travel through time and space is a reality and where second chances and the end of the world sometimes cross paths. It’s a detour into the unknown filled with wonder and excitement beyond reality, and yet close enough, to make you second guess yourself.
 Sci-Fi with a Twist Story List

 From My Cold Dead Hands - A hit man has one last chance at redemption before it's too late for all eternity.

Preview Snippet

My name is Max Fox. I kill people for a living. I’m a professional hit-man. Have gun…will kill, I always say.

Otherwise, I’m pretty much a law-abiding citizen, a real nice guy you wouldn’t mind having as a next-door neighbor…that is, unless someone was to pay me to…you know…meet with you on a business matter. If that happens, then I have only one suggestion for you…run.

My life was pretty normal, normal for a hit-man that is, until that day my phone rang at 3:30 in the morning. I reluctantly picked it up. I just got to bed not more than ten minutes ago, but, as they say, there’s no rest for the wicked. I needed the money, after all. I tend to blow it faster than I make it. Chicks cost money.

It turned out to be some old man on the other end of the phone. He sounded scared, like he was about to cry. I didn’t care, of course, all I cared about was whether or not he had money. I agreed to meet the old man the following night in an abandoned parking lot about ten minutes away from my apartment. I told him to bring twenty grand, nothing smaller than hundred dollar bills. He agreed.

The old man was nervous and scared. He didn’t bother trying to hide it. He seemed like the type that had never done anything illegal before in his life.

“So, who do you want taken care of?” I asked.

“He’s…he’s a trained killer. He’s a professional hit man, and he’s been hired to kill me. I need you to get to him first.”

“Whoa, hold on a second old man. You didn’t say anything about taking on another pro. That’s going to cost you another ten grand. That kind of gig comes with challenges. I prefer my targets to be the typical American fat lazy slob, not somebody that shoots back.”

“I’ll get it. Just get him before he gets me.”

“Okay, old man. Tell me what’s his name, and who hired him? I want to know who I’m crossing. Burning bridges ain’t super smart in this line of work.”

“His name is Joe Carson, and I have no idea who hired him or why. I’m just an accountant…was an accountant. I’ve been retired for ten years now.”

“Ok, relax old man. You just hired the best. Consider it taken care of.”

“Thank you, young man. Thank you,” he said, as he stuck out his hand to shake mine. I declined. I never shake hands…germs. I can’t afford a sick day in my line of work.

I’d never heard of any hitman named Joe Carson before. So, I assumed he wasn’t that big a deal. The old man told me just enough to identify the man. Said he was an older man, about sixty or so, balding, had a little bit of a gut. The old man said he had barely escaped when this Carson guy had pulled out a nine and started firing. I figured, if he couldn’t hit an old man like my client, then this Carson guy wasn’t too much to worry about. Probably, some washed up old has-been.

All I had to do was find him. For that, I’d go to my usual hangout. The O’Reilly Bar and Grill was a great place to play pool and hire pros of various shady occupations, if you get my drift. All I had to do was ask Ted the bartender. He’d give me the straight dope for a couple hundred bucks, if I was lucky. Information ain’t cheap.

Ted was unusually silent. It took a bit of persuading to get him to open up about this guy Carson, but after five hundred bucks and a couple of threatening remarks, he finally opened up. He said that Carson likes to shoot a game of pool around noon. He told me, though, that O’Reilly’s was off limits for completing a contract. If the cops got wind of what all goes on there, it would put a big damper on business for everybody in this town. Rocking the boat might make me a target of other professionals. So, I told him, “I’m just going to talk to him, see if I can’t get a feel for where I could…um…best take care of our business”.

The next day, I got to O’Reilly’s as soon as they opened at around 11 A.M. I’m not used to getting up this early. I usually sleep until noon, at least. In my line of work, long nights are par for the course.
Just like clock-work, there was Carson shooting pool all by himself. I casually strolled over to see what I could see.

“Hi, want to play a game?” I asked.

“Whose asking?”

“Nobody, just thought you might want a little competition,” I said.

“Beat it kid. I don’t play with nobodies,”

“Hundred bucks says I can sink the 8 ball before you,” I said.

Carson looked a little perturbed, but finally, he cracked a small smile. “Okay, kid…hundred bucks, but I break.”

“Sure, whatever you say…Mr…um.”

“Carson. My name is Carson. Now for the second time, what’s yours?”

“Max, the name’s Max.”

“Ok, Max, get your money ready.”

He ran the table on me, not just once, but four times. I’m glad I got most of the money for this job up front, or I’d starve to death before I could off this guy.

“What do you do for a living, kid?”

“I’m…uh…into real estate,” I said.

“Sure, you are. I bet you do a lot of planting for your clients.”

I smiled kind of nervously. The old man kind of took me by surprise. “Planting? I ain’t a farmer.”

“Nah, not that kind of planting. Holes that you dig, I’d say, were about six feet deep, wouldn’t you say?” Carson asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, old man.”

“Old man, am I? Listen to me punk, do you know how I got to be an old man?”

“Nahh, I don’t,” I said.

“It wasn’t by being so stupid as to not look both ways, I tell you that much,” Carson said.

“I don’t know what the hell, you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you do. You’re hired to kill me, aren’t you?” asked Carson.

“What have you been smoking, old man. I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a really bad liar, kid.”

“Here’s your money.” I laid my money down on the pool table and walked out. The old man just waved at me through the window as I walked across the street to the parking lot.

That crazy old man was no dummy. This was going to be a little bit harder than I expected. I can’t believe I let him spook me that way. I’ve got to kill him. I’ve already spent a lot of dough on this job, and my rep would be ruined if I let an old has-been like that, jerk me around.

I drove back to my apartment. I thought maybe I’d settle down, get a bite to eat, while I figured out my next move. When I got there, the door had obviously been pried open. I pulled out my gun and rammed through the slightly opened door that had been cracked just enough to see a small portion of the living room.

“How ya doing, young man,” said Carson who was sitting on my couch watching my television. The old man was good. I had to give him credit. I obviously, wasn’t stupid enough to off him in my own apartment that would be a first-class ticket up the river for the rest of my life, and the old man knew it, too. But, how did he know where I lived?

“Okay, Carson, what is it that you want?” I asked.

“Me? Weren’t you the one hired to kill me? I’d say that makes you somewhat of importance to myself, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Who said I’ve been hired to kill you?”

“Come on, kid. I knew the second you walked up to me, you weren’t just interested in playing a game of pool. Do you think you can survive as long as I have in this business and not recognize another pro a mile off?

“Somebody hired you most likely to stop me from killing them. That, about right?” Carson asked.

I said nothing, as I put my gun back between my pants and shirt into the small of my back.
“Okay, old man. So, you know. Changes nothing. Obviously, I’m not going to do the job right here in my own apartment.”


“So now what?” I asked.

“Well, when I leave, I assume you’ll try to follow me. You’ll try to stay out of my eyesight range, follow from a safe distance, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” He pointed toward a holster in under his jacket. “You see this? I never leave home without it.”

“So what?”

“So…so? Don’t think much of life, do you?”

“I’ve lived long enough.”

“You stupid, stupid punk. I have socks older than you. Now let me tell you something, Einstein, I’ve seen things…things that…,” Carson said. He paused and turned his back on me for a second, which I thought was pretty stupid. I was curious about what he was going to say next. He seemed lost in time but only for a moment. “Come with me.”

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said.

“Kid, I’m not going to shoot you, not unless you shoot first. I want you to come with me for just a little while. Think of this way. You might learn something about me that might help you do your job, otherwise, I’ll be the one holding all the cards.”

I agreed. What else could I do? I was used to being in control. I hated feeling like I was being led by the nose, but curiosity got the better of me. So, I went along despite my better judgment. Carson took me down to the local park of all places, River Front Park. “Oh, by the way, that old guy that hired you, I was the one that put him up to it, to get your attention.”

“What’s your game old man?” I asked, not liking where this was going. I was starting to expect the old man was setting me up for a fall this whole time.

“Remember this place?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Oh, you remember all right. This is where you got your first taste of blood, wasn’t it? That sorry excuse for a human being…what was his name? Russ Gamble…I think it was. He harassed you for three years straight before you finally did anything about it.”

To be continued   Sci-Fi with a Twist Story List

Order at Amazon

Why Time Travel is Science Fiction's Best Story Concept

How Many Methods of Time Travel are there in Science Fiction?

What are the Rules to Time Travel?

Back and front cover for Sci-Fi with a Twist