A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), Part Nine: "The Demon and the Avatar"
Fiction & Literature, Horror, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction
| Author: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer | ISBN: | 9780463951613 |
| Publisher: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer | Publication: | September 30, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer |
| ISBN: | 9780463951613 |
| Publisher: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer |
| Publication: | September 30, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
They both felt it at the same time, even as the train lurched forward and the cars jolted thunderously—a tremor in the very fabric of things, like a ripple in a foam of potentiality which contained in it the threads of all their possible futures. Something, somewhere, had just happened—something directly related to their current endeavor of delivering the bomb to Barley and detonating it amidst the Enemy.
(An attack, you think, maybe an ambush? So soon?) communicated Ank, still smarting from his struggle to climb onto the flatcar with the added weight of the weapon.
“You felt it too? Like one door closed and another had opened, but with disastrous consequences, for us all …” Williams looked at him, rattled and bewildered. “Ank, how could we know that?”
(It’s possible that whatever this—this thing is, this event horizon, this convergence of power dynamics … it’s speeding up as we get closer, growing stronger. Meaning that the psychological link between us could be expanding to incorporate others. Regardless, it also means that our window for getting there has narrowed still further, possibly to the point of impossi—)
“Ank, don’t.”
(It’s something we need to prepare ourselves for, Will. At any rate, I’d suggest just now that you encourage our friendly engineer to step on the gas a little, or a lot.)
Williams leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. “Our friendly engineer, in case you haven’t noticed, is clearly insane!”
(All the more reason to give it a shot. Just do it, Will. He may actually listen.)
And then Williams was leaning over the side using one of Ank’s spikes for a handhold while simultaneously yelling at the engineer, who poked his head out the engine’s side window, his long, gray hair flying, and shouted, “You want speed, you got it, ha-ha! The world, she’s a comin’ back, yesiree!” He sounded the horn suddenly and Williams covered an ear, even as his hat blew off and fluttered away behind them. “The New World Special is back in service—and it’s taking its passengers to the Promised Land! Ha-ha!”
They both felt it at the same time, even as the train lurched forward and the cars jolted thunderously—a tremor in the very fabric of things, like a ripple in a foam of potentiality which contained in it the threads of all their possible futures. Something, somewhere, had just happened—something directly related to their current endeavor of delivering the bomb to Barley and detonating it amidst the Enemy.
(An attack, you think, maybe an ambush? So soon?) communicated Ank, still smarting from his struggle to climb onto the flatcar with the added weight of the weapon.
“You felt it too? Like one door closed and another had opened, but with disastrous consequences, for us all …” Williams looked at him, rattled and bewildered. “Ank, how could we know that?”
(It’s possible that whatever this—this thing is, this event horizon, this convergence of power dynamics … it’s speeding up as we get closer, growing stronger. Meaning that the psychological link between us could be expanding to incorporate others. Regardless, it also means that our window for getting there has narrowed still further, possibly to the point of impossi—)
“Ank, don’t.”
(It’s something we need to prepare ourselves for, Will. At any rate, I’d suggest just now that you encourage our friendly engineer to step on the gas a little, or a lot.)
Williams leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. “Our friendly engineer, in case you haven’t noticed, is clearly insane!”
(All the more reason to give it a shot. Just do it, Will. He may actually listen.)
And then Williams was leaning over the side using one of Ank’s spikes for a handhold while simultaneously yelling at the engineer, who poked his head out the engine’s side window, his long, gray hair flying, and shouted, “You want speed, you got it, ha-ha! The world, she’s a comin’ back, yesiree!” He sounded the horn suddenly and Williams covered an ear, even as his hat blew off and fluttered away behind them. “The New World Special is back in service—and it’s taking its passengers to the Promised Land! Ha-ha!”
