Denizens of Dump

Chapter one

Enough fell to keep a man in bacon for months. Tons of scrap, wrecked vehicles and bags of many less savoury items vomited from the doors of the spaceship. They fell in a hellish rain, screeching against one another in competition.

Kellin turned and ran, his brown jacket flying out behind him with its many pockets snagging on jagged spires of rusting metal. His mismatched boots crushed through the tangle of junk, fresh wound. . .