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Wayne Kyle Spitzer

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse ...

"There’s no footprints,” said Tess, examining the ground. She looked up at him as though she felt suddenly ill. “Nothing leading away. Just ours and his walking to and from …” She paused, her lower lip trembling. “How is that possible, Coup? And not just him but—where is everybody else? Where are the other cars? How in …”

And then she just broke suddenly and rushed into his arms, and they remained like that for several minutes, during which time he scanned the sky, and, to his deep relief, spied a passenger jet arching glimmeringly across the sky, its contrail just as white and reassuring as angel dust.

“Look, there, see,” He released her abruptly and spun her around. “We’re not in the Twilight Zone, after all. Hey, yo, Freedom Bird! We’re down here!” He waved his arms back and forth. “Give us a lift! Albuquerque or bust!”

Yet there was something odd about the plane’s trajectory he hadn’t initially noticed—or had he? For it truly was arching, which is to say it wasn’t crossing the sky so much as it was … falling from it. Yes, yes, he could see now that was true, as he disengaged from Tess and paced through the scrub, tracking the jet as it curved gracefully in the sun— to finally plummet straight into the far hills, where it vanished like a specter in a plume of fiery smoke.

And then he was gripping the shotgun and trying to wrest it from its rack; but, finding it locked, had to search the car for a key: upon which, realizing there were none that would fit, he located a small button just beneath the seat and depressed it—freeing the weapon.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Tess as she tailed him back to the Mustang, but he ignored her until they were again seated inside, after which he turned to her and said, briskly, “Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, but I’m doing it, okay?”

And it was on the tip of her lips to respond when they heard the sound: a kind of muffled whimper—something between a chirp and a meow—coming from outside. Coming from beneath the car.

Hobb's End Books

Dinosaur Apocalypse

Heat Wave: The Dinosaur Apocalypse Has Begun

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse ...

“Is that really a good idea?” asked Coup, which at last caused her to turn around.

“I don’t know, is it?” she said, and slung the purse over her shoulder. “Why don’t you ask him?” She indicated Long. “He seems to know everything.”

“He’s right,” said Rory. “It’s not a good idea.”

“It’s the only idea,” she snapped determinedly. She patted her purse warningly. “And don’t even think about …”

But they were no longer looking at her—gazing instead at something which had swooped into view outside, something which seemed for an instant almost to hover—its muscles and ligaments twitching, making a thousand adjustments, its stretched membranes undulating, its talons outstretched—before it smashed against the glass like some great, dark kite (cracking it three different ways) and hit the ground violently, scrambling and flapping, leaping and taking wing again, disappearing from sight. All of which happened so fast that the woman in the red dress, having leapt away suddenly, didn’t appear to have even seen it, much less identified it, and only said, finally, “What was that?” And then laughed. “Are we under attack by wild turkeys, for fuck’s sake?”

Heat Wave 2: The Dinosaur Apocalypse Has Begun

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse ...

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this, all of it, believe me,” the President was saying, gesturing as he spoke—his large frame swaying slightly—just like on TV. “And we’re going to win it. It might take time … but we’re going to win it. Believe me. We always win.”

He paused for a moment as the lead Secret Service agent—Halverson was his name, Agent Halverson—handed him a cup of water. “For one, we’ve got something the animals don’t have. Which is our incredible men and women of law enforcement.” He gestured at the surviving State Trooper and then at the soldiers. “Not to mention our armed forces, some of whom are with us right now.” Everyone clapped—albeit briefly. “It’s hard. So hard. What has happened is so terrible. So many people have disappeared—while others have fallen victim to these—these animals. People are saying they’re dinosaurs. I don’t know. I think they’re dinosaurs. And they’re horrible, so horrible. They’re eating people alive. I’ve seen this, and I’ve sort of witnessed it—in fact, in two cases I have actually witnessed it.”

Heat Wave 3: The Dinosaur Apocalypse Has Begun

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse ...

Still he continued: “The wall was necessary. It was necessary, okay? Look, we had to. We had to. People say the money could have been better spent—that it didn’t need the spikes, say, or the gangway for the guards, or the mote. But I play into people’s fantasies. People may not always think big themselves, but they can still get very excited by those who do. That’s why a little hyperbole never hurts. People want to believe that something is the biggest and the greatest and the most spectacular. In the case of my wall, it is the biggest and the greatest and the most spectacular—I mean, have you seen it? Beautiful. Beautiful. Wouldn’t you say, Coup?”

Coup looked around as people started to wake up. “Well, I—I guess as far as walls go—it’s a monster, that’s for sure. Makes for some great shade. About 50-billion dollars’ worth.”

Nobody said anything.

“I take it you don’t agree,” said the President.

“I’d say your instinct on that is flawless,” said Coup. He looked the man squarely in the face. “As always.”

Tucker just looked back—his large eyes puffy and purple, his brow furrowed. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t used to being challenged—on anything. “What’s not coming through anymore, Coup?”

Abbie yawned and tried to intervene woozily. “Has anyone eaten anything? I’m starving …”

“No, no, no. What’s not coming through anymore?”

Coup pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired with the conversation. “Look, how about we just leave it—”

“Murderers, Coup. Drug runners. Human traffickers. Bing bing, bong bong, bing bing. You name it. Rapists …”

“Murderers and rapists …”

“Well, someone was doing the raping, Coup! I mean, somebody was doing it. Who was doing the raping? Who was doing the raping?"

“Jesus, I was doing raping, can we drop it, si?” said Johnny from Tuscan, and stood, leaving the group.

Tucker and Coup looked at each other as Briggs straightened in his chair.

“Going to I.D. him, Chief?” said Coup, his eyes still locked with the President.

And then something thumped against the window and everyone jumped, and when they all focused on it they saw an enormous tri-clawed hand pressed open-palmed against the glass; a hand which moved downward as they watched so that the tips of its claws scraped like fingernails on a chalkboard. Then it was gone, retreating into the gloom—within which Coup saw a massive shape shift and move forward, even as another massive shape crossed opposite it, so that it was clear to him that whatever had touched the window was not alone.

Heat Wave 4: The Dinosaur Apocalypse Has Begun

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse ...

“For one, Americans don’t run. That’s just not what made us great. It sure as hell aint what made us great again, that I can tell you. We may withdraw on occasion, as I directed us to in Syria, but we don’t run, and we sure as hell don’t crawl hat in hand to some shithole like Mexico—especially when they’re no more capable of dealing with this than is the greatest nation on earth—I mean, am I right, folks?”

And to Tess’ utter astonishment, people began to clap—Carson, of course, but also Ashley and Abbie and Cameron’s activist friends, not to mention the State Trooper and the two Secret Service agents.

“It’s true. It’s true. Let me hear it if you think I’m right!”

And they did, continuing to clap and to nod their heads, saying ‘Right on’ and slapping each other on the back, pumping their fists. During which time Tess met eyes with the good-looking dark-skinned kid—he couldn’t have been more than 19—Johnny, from Tuscan, and knew, based on his expression (and the fact that he wasn’t clapping), that he was the only sane person left.

And then they were moving, both of them, toward each other and toward the door, making a beeline as everyone clapped and the volcanoes spewed molten rock; as several shadows flitted across the window, like kites, like pterodactyls, after which the soldiers on the roof promptly opened fire.

“Oh, and Miss,” said Tucker, halting on a dime, turning to Tess and Johnny. “It’s only fair to tell you that if you take one more step toward that door … I’ll have you shot.”

Heat Wave 5: The Dinosaur Apocalypse Has Begun

The exciting all-new prequel series to Flashback and Dinosaur Apocalypse ...

And that’s when she saw something she would never forget, three somethings, actually, one no more incredible than the next. The first was that the marsupial lion had engaged with the much-larger therapods in a full-on melee, right there between the store and the gas pumps—an entire row of which were wiped out as she watched with just the swish of a tail. The second was the enormous fireball that resulted, which all but flattened the station and rose curling upon itself like a mushroom cloud, hiding the animals from view (if indeed they survived at all). And the third was the President’s black limo (Cadillac One, she knew it was called, or “The Beast”) barreling toward them across the desert—its tinted windows glinting, its fender flags on fire, and driven, it seemed likely (considering most everyone else was dead), by the President himself.

“Well that’s something you don’t see every day,” she said, and looked at Coup, who only shrugged.

“When you gotta go, you gotta go,” he said. “He went.”

Heat Wave 6: The Dinosaur Apocalypse Has Begun

“You’re a real asshole, Satanta. Just so we’re clear.”

I turned around and looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun, and saw her glaring at me from Blucifer’s saddle (to which I’d bound her with zip ties), before jerking the rein, tugging them after me.

“And here I thought you were different—if only for a minute,” she continued. “Boy, was I wrong!”

“And I thought you were—how did you say it? On a speech strike,” I said.

“I am,” she snapped. “I just needed to say that one thing. Again.”

We clip-clopped up S. Las Vegas Blvd, past the fairgrounds and a gaudy strip mall called the Bonanza, saying nothing, during which I found myself gazing at the sky lights—our ubiquitous friends since the Flashback—and noting how angry they seemed today, how inflamed; and noting, too, that Kesabe had not circled back in some time (for it was his tradition to run far ahead), a fact which was beginning to trouble me.