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:A BROTHERHOOD OF IDIOTSArthur DavisTHE ABYSS OF FEARNick YoungAN EVEN GREATER WOMANVictoria MaleEASY PREYTerry SanvilleTHAT THING WE KILLEDWayne Kyle SpitzerGATE K22John StadelmanJUST A LITTLE TASTESamantha Lee CurranJUST ADD WATERBill LinkNEW YOU NANCY DREWChloé SehrDAN THE TRUMPET MANMary Jo Rabe

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction | No. 16 | May 2023 - Dark Horses Magazine, #16

First came the time-storm, which erased half the population. Then came the Dinosaur Apocalypse . How did it all begin? Well, 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 Lost Country. From "The Dreaming City": It was at once garish and sublime, hipster and gauche, a burnt-orange relic of a bygone era with a tip of the hat to Frank Lloyd Wright and a debt to Googie architecture-a thing as righteous as it was ridiculous, which sat amongst its desert like an outsider, an intruder, as out of place as the transplanted palms and piped-in water, as artificial as L. A. itself. "They weren't kidding when they called it the Lost Aztec Temple of Mars, " I said, as Rusty fidgeted and nickered, and shook flies from his ears. "But what's with all the high fencing and concertina wire-only to leave the entire front-perimeter open? There's just a hedgerow. No fence at all."Nigel sat up in his saddle and looked on, the sweat beading along his forehead. "Be damned if I know; it wasn't like that before." He looked around the area-skittishly, I thought. "Maybe he had it removed when they took out the road. He was like that, you know. All about the visual." He pointed at the house itself. "Wouldn't have been a problem, though, even if it were there-there's a man door in the fence just beyond that breezeway."I held out my arm as everyone started to move. "I-hold up. I-ah, I don't like this."I scanned the overgrown yard and the cosmetically-placed boulders (some of which were the size of moving vans); looking for traps, looking for threats. "It doesn't feel right."Lazaro got off his horse and approached the hedgerow-then turned to face us, splaying his arms. "What? You heard Jamaica; dude was all about the visual. Probably figured there was no need-once the road was taken out. For a front fence, I mean." He let his arms slap to his sides. "Now are we going to go check it out, or what? Or are you all just going to sit there all day?"And there was a growling noise, a deep-throated snarl, which sounded from behind one of the rocks even as a shadow fell across the knee-high grass-at which a great cat padded out which was easily the size of a pickup, and hissed at us: its huge pallet showing pink and pale, its black lips stretching, its whiskers and curved fangs-which were like tusks-gleaming in the sun.    "Lazaro, don't!" But it was too late; he'd already drawn his pistol and squeezed off a few rounds-which went pop, pop, pop in the late afternoon sun and echoed along the hills; which reverberated across the valley like the sound of a car backfiring .

The Lost Country, Episode Two: "The Dreaming City" - The Lost Country, #2

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!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, 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. From This Savage and Beautiful Night:He looked at the sky; at the Flashback Borealis-now diminished by the sun-and the drifting lights (which were of a color no one had ever seen). "Because the truth is, I have been closer to their dark materials than anyone-anyone here in Barley, that's for sure. And I am telling you: there was something in their voices this time that wasn't there before, something, I think, that they've never experienced. And that's fear."At which the amphitheater fell ghostly silent, at least for a moment."Well, fear of what, exactly?" called a man with a stump for a hand (his name was Roger), at last. "They're sure as hell not afraid of us."Francis just shook his head. "I don't know. Fear of whatever's at the center of that labyrinth; which is why they're gathering on it. Maybe even the fear that it will somehow affect their precious Flashback ...""Wait a minute, wait a minute, " blurted someone-some punk kid, I believe his name was Lonny. "So you're saying there's two conflicting forces-sort of like a football game-one of which is responsible for the Flashback, while the other is even now beckoning to us?" He laughed and slapped his hat against his hip. "Well, hell, man, sign me up with the Beckoner! Let's do this!"Laughter; laughter and riotous applause-which devolved into chaos-as Bella Ray threw up her arms and someone tossed torn paper (like confetti) and something parted the crowd like a float, like a tank. Something that turned out to be an armored dinosaur (an ankylosaurus) with a man walking beside it, a duo I knew to be the great Ank and Williams themselves-veterans of the Dinosaur War and the Bearers of the Hammer. The Legends of the North."That's just precisely what he's saying, " shouted Williams assuredly, authoritatively. "And he's exactly right to do so-because that's the situation." He looked at Francis, who brought him the cordless microphone. "And it's high time we accepted it; and started drawing up our plans. Because friends-fellow survivors, veterans of the Big One and all those who have come here because they heard Radio Free Montana, it's all come down to this."

This Savage and Beautiful Night - Flashback/The Dinosaur Apocalypse: The Final Trilogy of Stories, #1

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. It is a world where frightened commuters will do battle with murderous bikers even as primordial monsters close in, and others will take refuge in an underground theme park only to find their worst enemy is themselves. Where ordinary people-ne'er-do-wells on a cross-country motorcycle trip, a woman on a redeye flight to Hell, a sensitive boy stricken with visions of what's to come--will find themselves in extraordinary situations, and a gunslinger and his telekinetic ankylosaurus will embark on a dangerous quest. A world where travelers will be trapped with an unravelling President of the United States and a band of survivors will face roving packs of monsters and men in post-apocalyptic Seattle; where rioting teenagers will face deadly predators (as well as their own demons) while ransacking the nation's capital; where a Native-American warrior will seek to bury his past--and offer an elegy for all the Earth--in what remains of Las Vegas. 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.

Beyond the Flashback: The Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse Trilogy, Book Three - The Flashback Trilogy, #3

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 she sees the Shape again. Sees it through the shattered passenger window-silhouetted against a flash of lightning, approaching over the desert hills, maneuvering impossibly."No ." she whimpers, as Frodo barks and howls. Then a horn sounds and she faces forward-in time to avoid a head-on collision by mere seconds. By the time she skids to a stop on the shoulder of the road, a man is running up to her, apologetic, out of breath, asking if she is okay. She gets out, shrieking and gesturing with her arms, completely hysterical."Did you see it? Did you see it?"He catches her wrists in his hands and holds them-an overly intimate gesture she could be offended by, but isn't."I saw a jet, " he says, staring into her eyes, continuing to hold her hands. "A jet-they're everywhere out here today. They must be doing maneuvers or something. It's okay, all right? You're okay."She begins to calm down at last, however slightly. There's something about him, something about his mild eyes and soft but firm hands, his shock of dark hair, his soothing voice. She senses something and looks up, sees a fighter jet flying right over the top of them-low enough that she can make out the rivets in its fuselage. It is there and gone before its sharp-edged whine even cuts the air."See?" he says, releasing her hands. "Just a jet."

The Men | Two - The Men: A Tale of Alien Terror, #2

As for Jasper, he had proven to be an erudite and charming host in spite of his great age, and had regaled her with tales from before the Pogrom and before what men called the Betrayal throughout dinner, until music was heard outside and they looked out the cracked window to see a black War Wagon zoom past with its red lights flashing and its belly (presumably) full of Witch Doctors, after which a silence settled over the room and his tone became more somber. "You want to know what happened . how women became witches and men became Witch Doctors. And how the sexes became so estranged that they would kill each other on sight rather than suffer another Betrayal or Pogrom. Don't you?"She nodded slowly. He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin and sat back. "Well, I told you how things were, how men and women were. That there weren't any Witch Doctors except the kind you saw on TV, and there weren't-" He paused, noticing how they both looked confused. "TV-television-the boob tube, squawk box, the glass teat. Nevermind. It's not important. The thing is, men and women liked each other. Sure, they got to squabbling once in a while-hell, some might say that was half the fun of it. But they didn't fear and mistrust each other to the extent that, that-okay, well, some did-they'd kill each other. The point I'm trying to make is: they were bumper cars that enjoyed . bumping."Satyena and Jeremiah looked at each other."They danced, " said Jasper. "And when they danced it was something to see. But over time that dance began to sour, mainly because, outside the dance hall, only one side seemed to have all the power. Now, whether that was true or not depends on your point of view, but having read all about it and lived through some of it, I'd say the case could be made. And if you're wondering, " He looked at Satyena. "It was your ancestors that felt they didn't have any power. So, steps were taken to even the balance, just as they were with my own ancestors, and I think most would say that those steps were successful."Again there was the sound of music, and again a War Wagon blew past with its lights flashing."The problem with human nature is, it doesn't know when to stop. Eventually, every apparatus designed to right a wrong just becomes a new one-it has to, you see, because once created, its focus becomes its own survival. That's when the ideologues come-like saviors, some would say, while others would say like vampires-who feed off everyone's fear, stoking it and fanning the flames. Our Chairman Kill-sin is a man like that. Perhaps you've a counterpart among the witches ."Satyena nodded.

The Man/Woman War: A Dystopian Science-fiction Novel

She was in the habitat-actually in it, not seated at her workstation on the other side of the glass. She was standing before Napoleon in her white lab coat, which, inexplicably, she unzipped and shirked from her shoulders, allowing it to slide to the marshy floor. She didn't know how she had gotten there or how time had rewound so that the habitat and its great glass window were still intact . she only knew she was there to take the experiment to the next level. And as Napoleon looked down at her with eyes that had become strangely human, she knew that he knew why she was there as well .And then she was awake as fast as she'd gone out, and she was standing, slowly, amongst the trees again . wondering why she would dream such a thing. And wondering, too, about the hidden obsessions each and every human being might harbor in the darkest recesses of their subconscious. And then she scanned the trees, realizing, suddenly, that they were swaying-even though there was no wind-and saw Napoleon glaring back at her.

Napoleon

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. It is a world where frightened commuters will do battle with murderous bikers even as primordial monsters close in, and others will take refuge in an underground theme park only to find their worst enemy is themselves. Where ordinary people-ne'er-do-wells on a cross-country motorcycle trip, a woman on a redeye flight to Hell, a sensitive boy stricken with visions of what's to come--will find themselves in extraordinary situations, and a gunslinger and his telekinetic ankylosaurus will embark on a dangerous quest. A world where travelers will be trapped with an unravelling President of the United States and a band of survivors will face roving packs of monsters and men in post-apocalyptic Seattle; where rioting teenagers will face deadly predators (as well as their own demons) while ransacking the nation's capital; where a Native-American warrior will seek to bury his past--and offer an elegy for all the Earth--in what remains of Las Vegas. 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.

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction | No. 16 | May 2023 - Dark Horses Magazine, #16

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