Spring Dystopian Short Stories - Page 4

Kate crawls through a vent to stop her boss from melting the city's brain with a thermite charge.

Brian knew the engineered flowers were toxic. The State mandated spring, but the pollen tasted like rusted metal.

Karl stared at the five-toed imprint in the gray slush, the edges curling into white vapor against the ice.

Mike watched the kids gather in the concrete plaza below. They were already dead. They just didn't know it yet.