| Author: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer | ISBN: | 9781386710349 |
| Publisher: | Hobb's End Books | Publication: | November 2, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer |
| ISBN: | 9781386710349 |
| Publisher: | Hobb's End Books |
| Publication: | November 2, 2018 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
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.
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.
