Pedal Zombies: Thirteen Feminist Bicycle Science Fiction Stories (Bikes in Space)

Pedal Zombies: Thirteen Feminist Bicycle Science Fiction Stories (Bikes in Space)

Elly Blue

Language: English

Pages: 160

ISBN: 1621065626

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Pedal Zombies: Thirteen Feminist Bicycle Science Fiction Stories (Bikes in Space)

Elly Blue

Language: English

Pages: 160

ISBN: 1621065626

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


The zombie apocalypse will be pedal-powered! In the not-so-distant future, when gasoline is no longer available, humans turn to two-wheeled vehicles to transport goods, seek glory, and defend their remaining communities. In another version of the future, those with the zombie virus are able to escape persecution and feel almost alive again on two wheels. In yet another scenario, bicycles themselves are reanimated and roam the earth. In the third volume of annual feminist bicycle science fiction series, Bikes in Space, 12 talented writers bring their diverse visions to this volume: sometimes scary, sometimes spooky, sometimes hilarious, always on two wheels.

Pants on Fire: A Collection of Lies

Misteriosa Buenos Aires

A Cidade Inventada (2nd Edition)

Dilvish, the Damned (The Dilvish Stories, Book 1)

Selected Short Stories

Both Ways is the Only Way I Want It

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winnipeg just in time for the spring thaw. The Panic saw hordes of Americans fleeing both north and south in the mistaken belief that somehow the virus couldn’t cross the borders. But we do have one defense they don’t: Edmonton sits on the 53rd parallel north of the Equator and is famous for its long winters; extreme cold is one of the best defenses against the ZH81 zombies. “We haven’t heard from Calgary since last month,” Ric, Janey’s ex-military boi-friend, called out. This quieted some;

hares and coyotes. It was a risk to take three of our most valuable assets on the same mission. Regular bikes were fairly easy to repair and replace, but the long-tailed, cargo-bearing Yubas were too important for our survival. Carly had voiced what many in the room were likely thinking. “Including the green,” Janey said. She shoved her hands into her pockets as the collective voices cried out with anger or dismay. The green Yuba was our arsenal bike; its rear rack was covered in rip-stop nylon

foot catches on the frame of the bike and it twists around toward her, its front wheel flying into her face. There is a sharp pain and the speed of the world returns to normal; she is lying under the bike. She assesses all of her limbs, her back, her neck, her head. There is pain but nothing, she thinks, is broken or concussed. She untangles herself from the bike and sits up. Then she leaps up all at once. Rebecca is lying face down in the road ahead of her, left arm pinned under the tire of a

looking at their phones, mistrustful of anyone who hasn’t gotten the virus; the special, individualistic unbitten meanwhile hail each other as heroes, high-fiving and cracking jokes as they wreak casual destruction on everyone else. And of course these stories increasingly tap into anxiety about end of the world. It was on that same trip in 2011 that, riding down Market Street in Oakland, we saw the giant orange billboard predicting the end of the world coming up that May 27th. We laughed about

Lisa was watching the woods before she resumed spraying the corpse. “It’s never going to end, is it?” said Lisa. Angie glanced up. At least Lisa was still facing the wood. “Yeah, it will, eventually. Not tomorrow, and not completely, but it’ll get better. We’ve just got to keep fighting it. Eventually it’ll burn itself out. It has to. It’ll run out of hosts, reproduction will slow, and we’ll develop a resistance. In the end it’ll be like the Black Death, consigned to remote pockets, and then,

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