Cannery Row Novels & Stories

Louie, sitting behind the two, patted their backs in a reassuring tone. “It’s all over now guys, and we haven’t gotten busted. Have we?” “That was really close,” Ivan said as he ignited the engine and took off from the spot they now seemed t dread the most.The sun sank behind the horizon, revealing a vivid orange as they made the drive further to Lakewood. Silence, once again became the order of the evening as Patrick took the wheel. By 11pm, Louie who had taken the final wheel pulled the entirely different dared to the cabin’s porch, when they arrived at the old cabin. They were supposed to be excited, but fatigue cut them short. For all the money in the world, they would have had never ima

The dead candle will never relight. One (soft, almost wondering): “Then the world may yet survive her.” Rowan turns to leave, pausing only to add: Rowan: “Tell the Council the storm has a family. And the family just won its first war.” He steps back into the mirror that isn’t there. In Shambhala, twelve candles burn on. In Hot Springs, Arkansas, a very tired storm queen sleeps in her coyote’s arms while dawn paints the valley gold. The Hollow Choir is gone.

In her hands, she held a very beat-up copy of ‘Of Mice and Men. “Oh, Harriet! Thank you!” I squeezed my best friend before clutching the book to my chest. She grinned at me before she turned back to run back to where Matt was. I found my feet leading me back towards the creek. Away from the burned buildings, away from the chard remains of the carnival, and away from the dead. The thought of the packhouse was suffocating on a carefree regular day. Now there was over three times the amount of people shoved in there. For some reason, I felt like the creek was where I should be, like something in my gut was pulling me there.

He's happy that they finally have a plan and all it took was one walk in a forest with a complete stranger. "I'll fill Caleb in" Marcel bid her goodbye before quickly walking off in the direction of the town hall where Caleb's office was. She looked around to see if she could spot Leo or Miles or even Toby but no one of the young boys were around. She sighed to herself realising just how alone she felt in this place she hardly knew anybody. It was an odd feeling. With only one option left Rowan turned back around and headed out the gates once again. She originally had all the intention of going home to somewhere familiar where she could relax for just a moment but as she found herself walkin

"Better buckle up, huh? What a f*cking ride." I smiled, tucking my chilled fingers in my pockets. I could tell Rowan wanted to say more, but he was struggling to form the words. Rowan thought before he spoke, something I had yet to fully master. He was going to make a great Alpha one day. Before long, we reached a cabin nestled against a rocky bluff on the outskirts of the old village. Rowan helped me up the steps, which were slick with ice. "There's ice-melt in the garage—"

The hum of the crowd dimmed to the soft murmur of families hurrying home, shadows stretching long across the cobbled streets. Rowan carried the small basket in his hand—half filled with Everleigh’s errands for her mother, half with things he had slipped into it when she wasn’t paying attention. Fresh honey cakes from the baker’s daughter, a bundle of herbs far too fragrant to be cheap. She had rolled her eyes when she noticed, but he had only smirked, daring her to argue.

“Follow the river long enough to break the strongest scent trail. Then we cut west through the pine ridge and head for the healer’s creek. We don’t go to Richard first. We find Amber.” Kael’s jaw tightened. “And if Amber isn’t there?” “Then we improvise.” “I hate when you say that,” Rowan muttered. “You hate everything right now because you’re leaking.” “I am not leaking. I am heroically enduring.” “You are bleeding on Mara’s cot.” Mara looked at the cot and sighed like that offended her more than anything else that had happened today. “I liked that cot.” “It looked like it survived three wars and a divorce,” Rowan said.

Highest throughput, highest resistance, highest chance of cages still full. She wanted the worst. Of course she did. The cannery sat rotting at the edge of a tidal marsh, corrugated siding eaten through by salt and neglect. No lights, no signage — just a dead industrial husk with one purpose left. My team breached the west wall in silence. Old steel parted under hydraulic jaws. We entered low, weapons up. The smell hit first: urine, rot, fear. Same everywhere. Always. Two guards in the inner corridor. They died before they knew war had arrived.

Jamal It hadn't rained since i left the dock and it came down in fine, cold sheets slicking the asphalt and coating everything in a silver sheen with he cannery looming ahead abandoned for years at least to anyone who didn’t know better. I’d spent enough time in this city’s underbelly to recognize the signs: faint tire tracks cutting into the gravel and a light that flickered on the second floor when everything else was dark. They had her in there.

I say. We climb for two days. The track is everything Cassian promised and worse, and we leave the horses at a snow-line cairn with one warrior to hold them, and we go up on foot into a cold that has teeth, Rowan bundled on my back because I am the biggest and break the most wind, his small mittened hands fisted in my collar, and I would carry him to the top of the world and past it.