Lonny hesitated, trembling. "Y-you mean it's just trying to scare us?"Handlebar tweaked his nose. "That's right."The fire returned to the young man's eyes-almost. He looked around the shattered dock, at the riddled corpse and the oily, bloody water, at the spitting power lines and the dead lights, the peeling boardwalk on the shore. He shook his head. "No, it's not. It-it doesn't pretend, like you. It's gonna kill us, that's all." He stepped closer. "Can't you see that? You posing hillbilly? The spill's given it a-a lean season. It's sick, and it's hungry, and ."He glanced at the corpse. "And we probably just killed its mate."

Lean Season

In a land of wind and willows, two canoeists encounter some other-worldly wind turbines. From The Sentinels: Dunn: He said that he was taking the way of the wind and the sky, and that he was going in-to Them-by which I presume he meant going into the tower and scaling the ladder. And he said other things: That our thoughts made patterns in their world-left 'prints, ' as it were-as did theirs in ours; and that that was how they'd found us, by listening to our thoughts, zeroing in on our patterns. And he said that Bobby was merely a bundle of sensory organs wrapped in a skin of decaying matter and so wasn't important, wasn't needed. That only they mattered-they, the beings attached to and inhabiting the turbines. And that . that . Detective Shaw: What, Mrs. Dunn? Say it. Dunn: But . don't you see? It doesn't matter what he said, because it wasn't him speaking, not really. Bobby would never have described a human being as just a bundle of sensory organs; he truly believed, with every fiber of his being, that we were more than that-more than just the sum of our parts-it was what inspired him to become a doctor in the first place. And knowing what I knew, knowing what kind of man he was, I pressed him, telling him that Bobby did matter-that he mattered to his patients and that he mattered to me-more than I would ever be able to describe. And then I approached him and embraced him and told him I loved him-feeling, for the briefest of moments, the spirals beginning to close on his back-and he smiled, his eyes returning to normal, after which he said, or started to say, "I love ." (room tone) Detective Shaw: (inaudible) He-he told you he loved you? Dunn: No. He . his eyes rolled back . and then his face, it . it simply imploded. In a spiral. Like someone had flushed a toilet full of blood and brains.

The Sentinels and Other Stories

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:BAD DAY AT SORALLIO 6 CANTEENGavin TurnerDEAD THINGSVincent EndwellDEAD MAN'S HANDDale T. PhillipsFALLING SUNWARDMikel J. WislerA REIGN OF THUNDER (PART TWO)Wayne Kyle SpitzerI AM NOT BERTHASeán McNichollTRINKETSFreddie KölschMY MOON, OH MY MOONAngus StewartSAY HELLO TO ALPHA CENTAURIScott CoonTHE INSIDE OUT MANLamont A. Turner

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 26 | March 2024 - Dark Horses Magazine, #26

First came the time-storm, which erased half the population. Then came the dinosaur apocalypse. How did it all begin? That depends on where you were and who you ask. In some places it started with the weather-which quickly became unstable and began behaving in impossible ways. In still others it started with the lights in the sky, which shifted and pulsed and could not be explained. Elsewhere it started with the disappearances: one here, a few there, but increasing in occurrence until fully three quarters of the population had vanished. Either way, there is one thing on which everyone agrees-it didn't take long for the prehistoric flora and fauna to start showing up (often appearing right where someone was standing, in which case the two were fused, spliced, amalgamated). It didn't take long for the great Time-displacement called the Flashback-which was brief but had aftershocks, like an earthquake-to change the face of the earth. Nor for the stories, some long and others short, some from before the maelstrom (and resulting societal collapse) and others after, to be recorded. Welcome to the world of the Flashback, a world in which man's cities have become overgrown jungles and extinct animals wander the ruins. You can survive here, if you're lucky, and if you're not in the wrong place at the wrong time--which is everywhere, all the time. But what you'll never do is remain the same, for this is a world whose very purpose is to challenge you, for better or for worse. In short, it is a world where anything can and will happen. So take a deep dive into these loosely connected tales of the Dinosaur Apocalypse (each of which can be read individually or as a part of the greater saga): tales of wonder and terror, death and survival, blood and beauty. Do it today, before the apocalypse comes.

A Best of the Flashback Almanac: A Treasury of the Very Best from the Flashback Universe

Carnosaurs . gangs of killer hipsters . post-apocalypse Seattle is to die for. Welcome to the Big Empty, the world after the Flashback ... a world in which most the population has vanished and where dinosaurs roam freely. You can survive here, if you're lucky, and if you're not in the wrong place at the wrong time--which is everywhere and all the time. But what you'll never do is remain the same, for this is a world whose very purpose is to change you: for better or for worse. It is a world where a band of survivors will brave roving packs of monsters and men in post-apocalyptic Seattle to retrieve a prize of incalculable worth, and where a group of travelers will find themselves trapped in a service station with an unravelling President of the United States as prehistoric horror closes in . "Like Land of the Lost - for adults!" - Erik Schubach, Scythe A Flashback Adventure

Escape From Seattle

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

First came the time-storm, which erased half the population. Then came the dinosaur apocalypse. Welcome to the world of the Flashback, a world in which man's cities have become overgrown jungles and extinct animals wander the ruins. You can survive here, if you're lucky, and if you're not in the wrong place at the wrong time--which is everywhere and all the time. But what you'll never do is remain the same, for this is a world whose very purpose is to challenge you: for better or for worse. In short, it is a world where anything can and will happen. So take a deep dive into these loosely connected tales of the Dinosaur Apocalypse (each of which can be read individually or as a part of the greater saga): tales of wonder and terror, death and survival, blood and beauty. Do it today, before the apocalypse comes. "Jesus. Just-Jesus, " said Amelia, staring at the decomposing body. "How long do you think it's been here?" I examined it where it was sprawled on the back porch, facing the ocean, its skin blackened and clinging to the bones-like it had been vacuum sealed-its wispy hair fluttering. "Hard to say. Few weeks. Maybe a month." I batted away the flies. "Long enough for the organs to liquify." "How-how do you know?" I studied the holes in its head, a smaller one which was about the size of a dime and a larger, more cavernous one-the exit wound. "Because, otherwise, there'd be brains all over." I stepped over it and picked up the gun, checked its chamber. "There's still bullets in it." She stared at me tentatively as I closed the chamber and gripped the weapon in both hands-neither of us saying anything. At last I nodded to the back door-the screen of which banged back and forth in the wind-and tried to brace myself. "You ready?" She shook her head. "Let's go, " I said. And then she was holding the screen as I inched forward and gripped the knob-turning it slowly, carefully, easing the door open. Stepping into a room which was dark as pitch; which reeked of cat piss and despair.

The Lost Country, Episode One: “The Big Empty” - The Lost Country, #1

In a world beyond imagination, they would stand by each other no matter what ... After a devastating time-storm called the Flashback eliminates most the population and recolonizes the world with prehistoric flora and fauna, three boys bearing a powerful talisman set out on an impossible quest. An all-new post-apocalyptic adventure for mature young adults set in the same world as Flashback, A Survivor's Guide to the Dinosaur Apocalypse, Ank and Williams, A Reign of Thunder and The Lost Country. From Thunder Road:"Jesse! Quint! Long-fuses!" I rolled the 50-pound bag off the Talon. "And remember: Straight for the bikes!" (I was referring, of course, to the special fuses we'd made; which-it was hoped-would provide cover after we left.)"That's a negative, hombre, " shouted Quint. "I'm fresh out of lighter fluid over here." He quickly added: "Jesse! Get over here!""No!" I barked. "Belay that order! Keep up your barrage ..."And I was on my way, bounding for Quint and holding up my lighter, shaking it, impatiently, as he turned and just stared at it-disoriented, shell-shocked. (Some of my rockets had-after ricocheting about wildly-blown up right next to him.)"Take it!" I snapped-even as a ghost-white snout lunged at him through the window, lunged at him and crashed to a halt-snarling, gnashing its teeth; at which Quint spun upon it and clocked it in the nose, hard, and just kept clocking-until it yelped and beat a retreat."Okay, " I said, "go, go, go!" And he took the lighter. And then I could only return to the Talon and snatch it up off the floor, noting its fading color, its waning strength, before swinging it around my head and barking, "There's never going to be a better time. How much more?""Just about, " said Jesse, and continued: "Just-okay! Okay, I'm clear!"I looked at Quint, who was still lighting. "All right, forget it, let 'em go ."He moved the lighter from one fuse to the next. "Hold on, " he said, "just hold on ."At which we could only watch, rocking on our feet, hopping up and down, until he lit the last fuse and jumped down from the bucket. And then we were hustling-double-timing it, as they say-up the stairs and out of the diner, where not a single predator could be seen. Then we were scrambling for our bikes; our pinto horses of plastic and steel; which gleamed like salvation even as the long-fused rockets began to explode and the Nano-As, active but in hiding, began to whimper and howl. That's when I knew it; when I could feel it in my bones. That we'd passed our first test; survived our baptism by fire. That's when I knew that our journey would be complete-as we sat on our bikes with our spears canted at our backs (like the bows of Indian braves, I fancied) and, having returned the Talon to its canister, watched the last of the fireworks as they burst and boomed above. Watched, brooding, as they turned the sky first white then green then blue, and finally, a deep, lingering red, after which, taking a cue from our fellow animals, we began to howl ourselves.

Thunder Road: Every Journey Has A Beginning ... - Thunder Road, #1

That's when I really noticed it, the fact that the landscape immediately around the car had changed; that it had-reverted, somehow. I can only describe what I saw, which was that none of the vehicles at the light could have been newer than a '66, and that the light itself looked decidedly retro, decidedly quaint, at least compared to the one only a block away. More, the storefronts alongside had changed, so that a Kinney Shoe Store now stood where a Taco Bell had just been, and a Woolworth had replaced an Indy Food Mart. Likewise, the pedestrians had changed-yoga pants giving way to miniskirts, athletic shoes giving way to go-go boots and winklepickers, short hair giving way to long. And it was as I observed these things that I noticed something else-the Stingray's reflection in the Woolworth's front windows, or rather, the reflection of something which was not the Stingray but which stood-hovered-in its place: a long, translucent, green-black thing, like an enormous wine decanter, only laid on its side, which glowed slightly from within its bulbous body and seemed to warp the very air around it, to bend it, to curl it like burnt paper.

Lean Season

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