Wild Cards

Beats, Bugs, and Boys: Part 4

Thursday

Bubbles and the Band Trip: Part 8

Dust and the Darkness by Victor Milán: Part 1

Bubbles and the Band Trip: Part 9

The Secret Life of Rubberband: Part 7

Dust and the Darkness: Part 2

Bubbles and the Band Trip: Part 10

Dust and the Darkness: Part 3

Is Nobody Going to San Antone? by Walton Simons

Dust and the Darkness: Part 4

Friday

Bubbles and the Band Trip: Part 11

Drop City by David Anthony Durham

Saturday

Bubbles and the Band Trip: Part 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Sunday

Bubbles and the Band Trip: Part 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

The Wild Cards Universe

About the Publisher

Copyright Acknowledgments (#u268e13c0-96ba-586b-8ac7-bd34c3b161e3)

‘Bubbles and the Band Trip’ copyright © 2018 by Caroline Spector

‘The Secret Life of Rubberband’ copyright © 2018 by Max Gladstone

‘Jade Blossom’s Brew’ copyright © 2018 by William F. Wu

‘Beats, Bugs, and Boys’ copyright © 2018 by Diana Rowland

‘Is Nobody Going to San Antone?’ copyright © 2018 by Walton Simons

‘Dust and the Darkness’ copyright © 2018 by Victor Milán

‘Drop City’ copyright © 2018 by David Anthony Durham

Texas Hold ’Em (#u268e13c0-96ba-586b-8ac7-bd34c3b161e3)

The most popular poker variant in casinos. Two hole cards are dealt facedown to each player. Then five community cards are dealt faceup in three rounds: the flop, the turn, and the river. Each player seeks to make the best five-card hand from the combination of the community cards and his own hole cards.

Bubbles and the Band Trip (#u268e13c0-96ba-586b-8ac7-bd34c3b161e3)

by Caroline Spector (#u268e13c0-96ba-586b-8ac7-bd34c3b161e3)

Prologue (#u268e13c0-96ba-586b-8ac7-bd34c3b161e3)

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you need a chaperone for the band trip?” Michelle didn’t like where this conversation was going.

Adesina kept packing her electric bass. It was a sweet StingRay 5 with double humbuckers. That it was done up with a purple sparkle finish was the icing on the cake according to Adesina. Michelle had been learning about the whole jazz band thing from her daughter for the past year and a half, but she always felt a step behind. And the humbucker thing was just baffling to her.

“Sean’s mother was supposed to go, but then she came down with the flu and now we need another chaperone. Besides, Wally’s going to be there,” Adesina replied, as if her mother filling in as chaperone was the most natural thing in the world. “Oh, and so is Mr. Ruttiger, you know, the school counselor. Remember, you met him at the open house. He was on season two of American Hero. They called him Rubberband. He’s all stretchy.”

Michelle felt a coil of fear in her gut. “I can’t,” she sputtered. “I have … things … aren’t there other mothers who can fill in?”

Adesina flicked the latches on her case closed. “Jeez, Mom,” she said as she put her sheet music into a folder. “It’s just five days in San Antonio with a bunch of band nerds. It’s not saving the world.”

Michelle watched in dismay, knowing this was a battle she’d already lost.

(#ulink_c5d4deb4-03b2-5ca0-aff4-46a71f7de67b)

Bubbles and the Band Trip (#ulink_b3c1fd3a-bb11-5024-82f6-e7c7d8d66fb7)

Part 1 (#ulink_b3c1fd3a-bb11-5024-82f6-e7c7d8d66fb7)

THE BRAKES GAVE A farty hiss as the bus pulled up in front of the Gunter Hotel. Michelle sighed with relief. Being cooped up with her daughter and the rest of the Xavier Desmond High School Jazz Band for eighteen hours straight was about as much fun as she could stand. The kids sometimes called themselves the Jokertown Mob, but mostly just the Mob to keep it short.

“Ms. Pond!” Peter called from the back of the bus. Peter was the band’s trumpet player. He called himself Segway because his legs were fused together and he moved by rolling around on keratin wheels. “Can we get out now?” Michelle guessed she wasn’t the only one ready for a break from the enforced confinement.

“In a second, Peter,” she said. “Let me see where we’re supposed to check in first, so we don’t have to lug the instruments and suitcases all over the place.”

The driver opened the bifold door and Michelle stepped out into the beautiful, cool San Antonio spring morning.

And discovered she was in a little slice of hell.

Coming at her was a group of about twenty people carrying an array of placards that read: SPAWN OF SATAN! FREAKS! JOKERS ARE SUBHUMANS! JOKERS ARE WICKED ABOMINOTIONS: PROV. 15:9!

Michelle strode toward them. They kept coming at her. At her and the bus full of her kids.

Bastards.