Williams stared at him for what seemed a long time before finally appearing to relent."Okay, " he said at last, and shrugged. "We'll try to build a raft .""Now you're talking!" said Sammy. He shot a sidelong glance at Sheila. "He's talking now, am I right?"Sheila began to nod and smile in a flood of relief. And then a gunshot rang out and everyone jumped-and when the smoke had cleared Williams was standing with his rifle raised, although he lowered it quickly to prevent further alarm. Sammy, meanwhile, lifted his wildly trembling gun hand and merely looked at it, for Williams had shot the weapon clean from his grasp."I'm sorry, too, " said Williams. "Now here's what I want you to do ."

A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend: "A Lament for the Dead" - A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), #6

There was a single, sharp tap of the drums followed by a rapid succession of beats as the crushed velvet curtains spread and the audience gasped: for Tran had taken her position in the box and was even now being secured as Williams struck a gunfighter pose and his hand hovered next to his weapon."Ladies and gentlemen, I think it goes without saying, " said the announcer over the speaker system, "Do not try this at home."Williams relaxed his entire body even as his mind cycled through the calculations-altitude, the breeze, humidity, temperature, the curvature of the earth, the spinning of the earth . It was, like music, a largely mathematical proposition; a cold equation he'd had a gift for ever since he could remember, ever since he was a boy with a Daisy BB gun in the backyard of their southern California home. He focused on the knife blade as the balloons to each side of it warbled in the breeze. It was a funny thing, sharpshooting, so utterly unlike music, in that each time he did it he felt like he was doing it for the first time, felt like he was starting over from scratch. With music his fingers just automatically found the frets, just instantly knew where to begin and where to end; he never felt as though he were lost in a vortex of potentialities, never doubted his ability to perform. But sharpshooting was a different beast altogether. With sharpshooting he had to call on something outside of himself as well as from within-something which was not his to control. Something which either kissed him with its ghostly lips or turned away with perfect indifference-like love itself, he supposed. Or God. And then the drum taps stopped and he was alone with the breeze, and it was time to make the intuitive leap which would set the bullet in motion. And as he breathed out and drew his revolver and squeezed its trigger softer than he would a daisy, he knew, even before the crack! and the ka-chink! and the pop of the balloons, that the projectile had found its target. That it had found the slim blade and split like an atom-becoming two loaves rather than one-two soft but lethal slugs, which had spread like shrapnel in the Fresno heat and ruptured the red balloons-releasing their air in a vacuum-like rush and causing the audience to gasp and to cheer. And then his wife was there, having loosed her mock bonds and scrambled out of the tall wooden box (with its crushed velvet curtains and bulletproof glass), and she'd bowed to the audience before embracing him like the wind, and he had kissed her as he always did after completing their final act-when air raid sirens sounded and he looked at the sky, which had darkened with a storm front as fast-moving as it was inexplicable ...

The Magnificent Bastards: 3 Realms ... 3 Unlikely Champions

The final Flashback begins ... It's all led to this. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a final trilogy of tales that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and so many others as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback!From The War-torn Hills of Earth:The gold fog rolled and so did the water, foaming and frothing, revealing first the photonics mast and communications antennas, then The Sarpedon's black, sea-slicked sail and forward fins, then its great, dark, parabolic bow-which breached the surface at an angle, like the plesiosaurs and ichthyosaurs and mosasaurs swimming alongside-until, still steaming forward, the ship was fully surfaced and its aft fins visible; at which three people-two men and a small woman with a bob haircut-appeared in the sail."Jesus, " gasped Puckett, the engineering chief, as he looked at the beasts, which filled the water for as far as the eye could see (which nonetheless wasn't very far, due to the fog). "If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have believed it. The sonar doesn't lie."Captain O'Neil was more circumspect. "But why, goddammit. That's what I want to know. I've certainly never seen them migrate en masse like this-like Hammerhead sharks. What's the reason?"Both of them had to shout over the crash and commotion of the waves. Pang signed excitedly at them as the wind chopped her hair."What's she saying?"Puckett, who'd been working with her, paraphrased: "She's saying, 'What if they were called too-only in a different way?'" He watched as she continued to sign. "'Or-considering the dream used sound and imagery instead of words-the exact same way?'"O'Neil looked at the marine animals as they leapt and dove and swam powerfully alongside. Aye, but for a different reason, he thought."Ho!" cried Chief Puckett suddenly. "The Santa Monica Pier!"O'Neil peered into the fog and saw the tiny silhouette of a Ferris wheel emerging from the gloom, then unhooked his mic. "Half ahead, revolutions 500-and mind the beasties." He looked at Pang. "Yes, I'm going to send a team ashore. And no, you're not-"And that's when it happened: that's when the pterodactyl flapped down like an oyster-white threshing machine and snatched her up by the shoulders-began rising. That's when O'Neil drew his sidearm-even as Puckett grabbed her by the ankle-but couldn't get a shot in through the pounding wings and Pang's own flailing-until there was the briefest of openings, and he did fire. Until he got lucky, and the bird fell and so did Pang-still being gripped by her ankle-so that she was flipped upside down and slammed against the sail-which her head hit like a rock. So that she was knocked unconscious even as Puckett and O'Neil held tightly and ultimately dragged her back into the conning tower. After which, drearily-for they were unable to wake her or get any sort of reaction at all-there was nothing to do but take her to the infirmary and monitor her. Nothing to do, frankly, but pray.

The War-Torn Hills of Earth | Flashback: The Final Trilogy of Stories | Part Three - Flashback/The Dinosaur Apocalypse: The Final Trilogy of Stories, #3

Naaygi found them waiting for her-as she somehow knew they would be-as the cage doors opened, their forward-facing eyes glinting the same hue as the lights in the sky and their dark, storm-colored bodies held absolutely still (even as another animal joined them and brought their number to four). She even knew somehow what they were; that they were a breed of carnosaur the "evolved" humans had called nanotyrannosaurs, the "Pygmy Tyrants, " and that one of them, the one with the brand upon its tail, the leader, even had a name-Napoleon, for he had been bounced forward and back in time via another alien species well before the Flashback and still bore the scars of his sojourn among the humans. She didn't know how she knew these things, no more than she knew just where, within herself, Naaygi ended-and they, the lights in the sky, began. She just did; just as she knew that the Nano-Ts represented a queer offshoot of the dinosaur population that was altogether fleeter and deadlier and cannier than anything that had come before it. And thus she bowed to them, her avengers, her killers-their killers, the lights in the sky-the rain running in rivulets down her body as she dropped to her knees and touched her forehead to the pavement, a pavement which ran red with blood and was strewn with the dismembered, disemboweled corpses of at least fifty men and women. And then she whispered to them in a language older than words, Follow me.

Flashback Dawn: The Complete Series, Illustrated

Welcome to Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder, an extraordinary anthology magazine that transcends the boundaries of science-fiction, fantasy, and horror. Prepare to embark on a thrilling journey through the darkest corners of the human imagination, where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and the mundane transforms into a realm of unspeakable terror and awe-inspiring wonder. Within these pages, you'll discover a collection of captivating stories carefully curated to transport you to realms beyond the mundane. Each issue presents an array of unique tales crafted by talented visionaries, both established and emerging, who dare to defy conventions and push the boundaries of speculative fiction. Whether you're a seasoned lover of the fantastic or just curious to explore new frontiers, Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder will be your guide through the realms of the extraordinary. Prepare to be enthralled, enchanted, haunted. So put on your dark sunglasses . and unleash your inner Black Sheep. In this issue: THE MEAT LOCKEREvan Kaiser BLOOMDL Shirey MAN/MAIDR. A. Daunton DINNER DATE AT VERNA'SRick Sherman EQUINOXWayne Kyle Spitzer ITCHMargaret Cotter REDMason Yates RENDEZVOUS WITH STRANGELOVEMatt McHugh THE AREOPAGUS OF THE SKYLäilä Örken WHEN HENRY FORD HIRED THE INVISIBLE MANMaureen Mancini Amaturo

Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder No. 3 | September 2023 - Black Sheep Magazine, #3

On a clear day you could see all of the Anchor Rock valley from here; not so tonight. Tonight it was but a vast pool of nearly impenetrable fog, beneath which Sheila could just make out the glowing, yellow lights of Anchor Rock proper. And she supposed she was grateful-so very, very grateful-for that much. For as long as the power was on and men such as Whitman were still doing their jobs, there was hope. Hope that the world might somehow pass through this day turned to night and this inexplicable time storm, this apocalypse no one saw coming and no one could have imagined. It was supposed to be zombies, she thought insanely-even as Whitman's brake lights winked on suddenly and Erik shouted, "Mom, look out!"She focused forward in time to see the Sheriff's car looming in the windshield, and hit the brake pedal, causing the Toyota to lurch into a tailspin even as it careened toward Whitman's bumper- which they missed, barely-before sliding into a tree with a resounding crash. And then she was craning her neck to see what had caused him to stop so abruptly, and saw, by the strobing lights of his red and blues (which he had turned on in order to guide them better), what could only be considered a Tyrannosaurus rex. It had crashed through Whitman's driver's side window with its snout and pulled him free-shaking him like a ragdoll, smashing him against the door-after which they could only watch in horror as it gnawed off his head . which bounced twice across the road and went rolling down the hill, whipping blood as it went. And then the thing was loping toward them, and Sheila had pushed in the clutch and jammed it into first-too late, for the beast pounced upon them instantly, causing the roof to sink beneath its massive weight. She screamed as its claws raked through the thin steel of the car's shell, barely missing her head, then put it in reverse and floored the gas pedal, winding the Toyota's engine as high as it would go, before finally popping the clutch.

Dinosaur Rampage

A series of enormous explosions rocked the grounds and Jeremiah hit the deck, pieces of glass and other debris raining down upon him, pattering his shoulders. Thump! Ka-thump! Thump!Now it is too late to turn back, he thought to himself, and wondered if Satyena, wherever she was, were laboring under the same yoke: the yoke of wanting to destroy a thing while at the same time yearning (paradoxically) for its embrace. Then he was up and running, running for the base of the cliff, wanting to look back and yet too terrified to do so, a Bible quote from one of Kill-sin's sermons echoing in his ear: But Lot's wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.

The Shadow, the Siren, and the Sage - The Witch Doctor Trilogy, #3

Dark horse/'därk '?hôrs/noun1. a candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds."a dark-horse candidate"Join us for a monthly tour of writers who give as good as they get. From hard science-fiction to stark, melancholic apocalypses; from Lovecraftian horror to zombies and horror comedy; from whimsical interludes to tales of unlikely compassion--whatever it is, if it's weird, it's here. So grab a seat before the starting gun fires, pour yourself a glass of strange wine, and get ready for the running of the dark horses. In this issue:NIGHT VISIONBrad PetitPINK ON PINKMary Jo RabeREQUIEM FOR A GOBLINLamont A. TurnerTHE FIFTH STAGE OF GRIEFCedrick MayTHE MARINERJennifer WalkerTHE MEN WITH GREEN FACESChristian RileyTHIS IS NOT MY BUTTERFLYJoseph HirschTONS-AWAYJudith PancoastTRIBUTESWilliam CurnowBURNWayne Kyle Spitzer

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 12 - Dark Horses Magazine, #12

Dark horse/'därk '?hôrs/noun1. a candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds."a dark-horse candidate"Join us for a monthly tour of writers who give as good as they get. From hard science-fiction to stark, melancholic apocalypses; from Lovecraftian horror to zombies and horror comedy; from whimsical interludes to tales of unlikely compassion--whatever it is, if it's weird, it's here. So grab a seat before the starting gun fires, pour yourself a glass of strange wine, and get ready for the running of the dark horses. In this issue:CLARITYMark J. SchultisCONSUMEDOphelia VangTHE MIRRORAngelisa Fontaine-WoodALUKA OF THE WITCH DOCTORSWayne Kyle SpitzerMY FEELINGS ARE PLOTTING AGAINST MESabina MalikPUMP AND GOCaitlyn PaceSPLENDID ISOLATIONPeter Emmett NaughtonTHE NIGHT WITCHRobert John JensonUNINVITED GUESTSAdam NewnhamVISITORJeremy Schnee

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 8 | September 2022 - Dark Horses Magazine, #8

Welcome to Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder, an extraordinary anthology magazine that transcends the boundaries of science-fiction, fantasy, and horror. Prepare to embark on a thrilling journey through the darkest corners of the human imagination, where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and the mundane transforms into a realm of unspeakable terror and awe-inspiring wonder. Within these pages, you'll discover a collection of captivating stories carefully curated to transport you to realms beyond the mundane. Each issue presents an array of unique tales crafted by talented visionaries, both established and emerging, who dare to defy conventions and push the boundaries of speculative fiction. Whether you're a seasoned lover of the fantastic or just curious to explore new frontiers, Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder will be your guide through the realms of the extraordinary. Prepare to be enthralled, enchanted, haunted. So put on your dark sunglasses . and unleash your inner Black Sheep. In this issue:COBB'S CORNERJ. A. HeathTHE COLDEST RIDE IN THE DEAD OF WINTERMike SharlowGONEJosh EureJON CARVER OF BARZOON, YOU MISUNDERSTOODGraham J. DarlingWHITE OF THE EYESWayne Kyle SpitzerLONDON GHOSTSLev RaphaelHE'S STILL IN THE HOUSEPaul O'NeillTHE CUREMichael HarperTRINITY HOME FOR THE GIFTEDMichael VanceYOU SHOULDN'T READ THISAtticus Hogan

Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder No. 5 | November 2023 - Black Sheep Magazine, #5

In retrospect, I wish I'd continued recording, for what I saw in that instant is difficult to describe, even now. Suffice it to say that it had a body like that of a manta ray-upon who's tail the balloonist had been impaled-or a manta ray combined with a bat, albeit huge, and that it was covered with a kind of camouflage which reminded me of pictures I'd seen of Jupiter-just a roil of purples and pinks and browns. I suppose that was when it first hit me: the possibility that there might be a connection between this thing and the Jupiter 6 probe. That the probe might have brought something back, even if it had just been a sprinkling of microbes on its surface. And then there was an explosion somewhere above us, the concussion of which rocked our balloon, and we all looked up to see Gas Monkey-my God, it was like the sun!-on fire; and yet that wasn't all we saw, for as it dropped it became evident that there were more of the bat/manta ray things attached, suckling it as it fell, crawling upon it like flies. Then it passed us like some kind of great meteor-its occupants shrieking and calling out-and was gone below, the heat of it still painting our faces, its awful smell, which was the smell of rotten eggs, filling our nostrils. And then we were just drifting, all of us crouched low in the basket . and the only sounds were those of Karen sobbing and my own pounding heart.

Clouds: An SF/Horror Story

The hologram faded away and a silence fell over the glade as Dravidian reseated himself upon the rock. Sthulhu remained respectfully silent. In his mind's eye Dravidian saw Pepperlung on the deck of their great dragger, The Vorpal Gladio, saw him glance over his shoulder at the prefect as his tone became grave: "Beware, Dravidian. The bride is just sightseeing but Asmodeus is here for you. You are the only ferryman up for elevation this year. Watch yourself. There will be a test, surely."The ground trembled suddenly and the remnants of the cage rattled as a minor Ursaquake shook the glade, and the sun orb went from gold to orange. A horse whinnied in the distance and Dravidian looked out across Parvus' homestead to see a great steed leap up in its corral. The slightest push against the dilapidated boards would have freed it-but the creature either did not know or did not care. The horse, however mighty, knew its place. It knew in its primitive yet tamed wiring what Dravidian, in his advanced and now liberated own, did not: that nothing lay beyond its cage that did not already exist in abundance within.

Black Hole, White Fountain - The Ferryman Pentalogy, #4

That's when I heard the strange sound: a kind of forlorn mewing, like the note of a horn being drug out too long, coming from just around the corner, just beyond the liquor store-and paused, holding up my hand. "What? What's going on?" I waved her into silence, dropping the rein, then hustled to the edge of the building-where, after peeking around the corner, I saw a juvenile sauropod of the Diplodocus family (meaning it was the size of a typical school bus) collapsed in the middle of the street-its right front leg stuck in a manhole. "What is it? What do you see?" I looked from the sauropod to the corner of a nearby building, where something had moved, then across the street to an overgrown alley. Yes, I thought. There. And there. Between the tattoo parlor and the marijuana dispensary . "Allosaurs, " I said, gravely. "An entire pack of them. In desert camouflage. They-they've got something trapped." "Omigod. It-it's not your dog, is it?" I returned and picked up the rein, began leading Blucifer forward, into the intersection. "No." "Wait . what are you-" "We're going through, " I said. "But what if those things-" "They don't care about us; they want the bigger game. For now. Just hold on." The horse's hooves went clip-clop, clip-clop as we passed, the bluish-gray sauropod coming into full view ... A moment later she said, "It-it's stuck. In the manhole. Do you see that?" I eyed the predators warily, continuing to lead. "There's nothing we can do about it." "But she'll be helpless against-" "That is the way of it, " I insisted. "The way of the-" "Look, would you stop with the Indian clap-trap? I'm not even sure-" There was a thwomp as the allosaur by the building leapt into the road-not by us but about fifty feet away, near the sauropod. "Jesus, can't you do anything? What about your bow?" "And risk bringing them down on us?" I intensified our pace, sprinting toward the Stratosphere. "No!" And then they were coming-the allosaurs from across the street-passing so close we could smell the meat on their breath; closing in on the frightened herbivore . until we passed the scene completely and sought refuge in a nearby gas station (its storefront had long since collapsed) and gathered there trembling as the sauropod cried out-for it wouldn't be long now until they fell upon her. "Jesus, " said Essie, listening. "What a world." "Yes, " I said, remembering. "My father used to say it had a demonic sublime; every tree and every rock, every animal, including man, down to the lowest insect." I listened as the sauropod moaned, seeming already to give up, to resign its fate. "And yet." "What do you mean?" "What?" "You said, 'and yet.' What did you mean?" I un-shouldered the compound bow-rubbing my aching deltoid, stretching my arm. "Nothing. It's just that . maybe it doesn't have to be this way." When she didn't respond I looked at her-found her already looking at me: calmly, meditatively, her eyes seeming to glimmer. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." "I mean . that I could end it. Her confusion and terror. That I-could prevent her from suffering." I looked at the bow and the dark, poisoned bolts attached to it. "That it's in my hands to do so."

A Survivor's Guide to the Dinosaur Apocalypse, Episode Five: "Elegy" - A Survivor's Guide to the Dinosaur Apocalypse, #5

A prequel story to the Witch Doctor series. In a war between men and women ... she was both. She steps to within a few feet of me. "The Power-do you have it? How about identity? Orientation? Do they know-the men, that is-do they accept it?"I hesitate, questioning my own motives. At last I say, "No, they do not-know, that is. I came to them before puberty. As for acceptance, they accept that I am a man with androgen insensitivity syndrome; a man who's face resembles a woman's. That is all. As for having the Power . my eyes have begun to change, at night, but clearing as the day goes on-if that's what you mean. Now . please. Details."She looks at me as though having achieved a minor victory. "That's how you found me, by accessing the hive mind, though you wouldn't have been aware of it. So, you've stayed among them and killed for them in order to survive, but now all that's changing. Isn't it?"I don't say anything, only continue to stare at her."And it is changing-make no mistake. That's how M24 progresses. Your eyes will remain white longer with each passing day-until the transformation is at last complete." She scans my face as though attempting to read my thoughts. "Tell me, Witch Doctor. What will you do when that day arrives?"

Livres