Month: January 2024

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

The snake had multiple arms, dozens of them, and they were moving, pulling its long, sinuous body across the side of the huge rex and down towards Warbell’s prone form. I could hear the old lizard groan. I stopped and stood shivering, holding my rock as the spinal-like centipede maneuvered over my friend’s wounds and towards his head.

Suddenly there was a flash of green light, and a burst of that familiar green fire sprouted on the larger rex’s head. Up to this point every dinosaur I had seen hit by the green flame had fallen immediately, but this time I could see the larger rex struggle and groan for a moment before the fire deactivated the cybernetic systems. The larger rex crumpled over awkwardly and painfully, chin banging against Warbell’s kneecap.

That was enough to get Warbell up with a bellow of pain. The spinalpede tried to hold on, but Warbell turned and shook himself and managed to dislodge the unnatural beast, which fell in a tangle into the field.

At that moment the parasaurolophus appeared, having apparently approached invisibly until it was in position to strike. Warbell stomped on the spinalpede, but glared down the parasaurolophus.

Suddenly a horrible buzzing sound erupted, and a cloud of dust and detritus was thrown up around the fallen larger rex. Instinctively the parasaurolophus ducked and flinched as the whirl of flying junk battered against its body. The air seemed to vibrate all around the larger rex and was building in intensity, appearing like a forcefield around her enfeebled form. The body of the big rex suddenly flew straight up into the air, and as it did, the rex’s shoulder cannons also sprang to life, spraying small blasts of fire in a circle. Gouts of flame burst and spattered across the field, peppering Warbell’s body and making him lurch back. Several shots hit the parasauralophus and sent him sprawling. One blast hit close enough to me that the fire engulfed part of my body, knocking me off my feet.

I crumpled from the impact of the explosion, but I felt no heat. The fire didn’t set me aflame, and instead I felt a wave of prickling numbness followed by a strange sense of refreshing coolness, like I had been coated in menthol. Moments later it was gone, but then I was hit again.

The body of the larger rex was still shooting, over and over, blindly scattering shots across the entire field and filling my ears with the sound of endless explosions. Warbell hunkered down and let the fireballs fly, taking many direct hits. I tried to run, though the explosions were still bursting nearby.

As I dashed away, I saw a shot hit the smaller theropod. He must have been hiding nearby in his invisible cloak (or whatever), but a stray shot struck him, short-circuiting the cloak and knocking him off his feet. I heard him hit the ground with a grunt and a wheeze.

A few moments later, the flying super predator took off in an arc back towards First Pumpkin, leaving behind a field of spitting, bursting green flames.

That was a heck of an exit.

Read the next chapter.

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

I paused for a moment, and that moment was long enough. The larger rex pushed Warbell aside with a blow that sent him reeling, and turned its attention towards us, shoulder cannons blinking yellow. Colander yelped and jumped away from the truck. Then there was a flash of light followed by a sound like a hard, sharp snap, and my truck split in half, parts flying in a spray as the truck shuddered and broke apart into spinning, wheeling pieces of shattered trash.

I let off a desperate shot at the dinosaur, but didn’t keep looking long enough to see if I hit. I started running and ducked into the ditch by the side of the road. I heard the hard snap again, and this time a three meter cross section of dirt mere steps away erupted into the air. Top soil, moisture, rocks, shredded vegetation, earthworms and even a section of the street shattered, breaking into smaller and smaller pieces that washed into the air, and I was knocked over by a wave of dust and debris.

In the resulting crush and rush of dirt thundering in my ears, I also heard Warbell’s counter attack and the shriek and terror of dinosaur combat. I couldn’t see anything, though. I just heard the roars as I was buried in dirt and choked on the detritus.

I lay still for a few moments under a layer of soil, my body feeling like one big bruise. Then I began to crawl forward, blinking away the dust, patting blindly with my hands, groping for my rifle. I had dropped my firearm in the explosion. My nose felt like someone had stuffed burnt charcoal and dirt where I should be breathing. Unthinkingly I picked up a big chunk of rock or a piece of the broken blacktop, as if I could somehow use the thing to bash a prehistoric beast into submission, then slowly rose to my feet.

The air was filled with fine dust, which combined with the dim light from the dying green fires and lights on the side of the road, made it hard to see. But clearly by the time I got up, Warbell was down and the larger rex was standing above him doing something. Gloating?

Still not thinking clearly, I wobbled forward gripping the rock I had picked up. As I started to get closer, my blood turned cold.

Warbell was indeed on the ground, multiple gashes on his body, dark liquid seeping out. The larger rex was above him, leaning over, one hand on Warbell’s neck. And something was moving along the larger rex’s back.

It looked like some kind of snake with ropy arms was emerging from the flesh of the enormous orange beast.

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By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

I heard Colander scream, and the triceratops and Warbell both paused. Suddenly a green fireball hit the trike straight in the face, streams of fire spiraling off the big beasty’s frill. The enormous herbivore gaped as the paralyzing effects took hold and collapsed on the spot. Warbell turned around, the green fires that had been clinging to his body beginning to slide off with a series of crackles and pops.

I finally dared to look back at the truck, and though for a moment I had hoped to see Furbud with a nose cannon, instead the massive hulking figure of the oversized tyrannosaurus from the city came into view. Both shoulder cannons were out and activated, but one had drastically changed shape, with a thicker neck and nozzle. It was swiveling around automatically, spraying bubbly foam and putting out fires.

Colander tried to raise the potato-cannon, but the enormous rex batted it out of her hands with its snout. I heard the cannon tumble and crash into the brush at the side of the road. The rex snapped at Colander, and if she hadn’t ducked just in time, the attack would have cut her in half.

Warbell stood staring at the much larger tyrannosaurus and a great weariness seemed to take over his body. All the pain that must have been plaguing his bones and muscles seemed to hit him at once, and his posture slumped. He let out a low groan.

The enormous tyrannosaurus said something in dinosaurian which I couldn’t understand. It sounded very angry, full of hisses and shuddering growls. Warbell shook his head, replying with a quieter series of grunts and rumbles. The larger tyrannosaurus replied again, getting louder still, stomping towards the old lizard.

Warbell stood his ground, and the larger dinosaur rammed its head into the old lizard’s side. Warbell stumbled back several steps, but did not fall. The larger rex continued its tirade, its voice rising to a shrieking rage. But Warbell kept shaking his head.

I started edging my way back to the truck. Colander was getting her potato cannon out of the ditch. She was wearing her belt of grenades, but didn’t look very optimistic about the effectiveness of her set of weaponry.

Just fight,” I said, but the words turned to mothballs in my mouth. “Fight back!”

“I have tear gas,” said Colander. “Maybe that would make everyone cry really hard at least. That’s what I feel like doing.”

“Whatever you shoot is just going to hit them both,” I said.

I looked back at the two rexes. The larger one was snapping at Warbell, butting the smaller rex again with his head, shrieking and roaring. I yanked open the door to my truck and pulled out my rifle. I checked the bullets, my hands shaking, cocked the thing, then carefully raised the sights.

Warbell saw me, and he came to life. He dodged another attack from the larger tyrannosaur and took a step in my direction.

“No!” he yelled in English. “Don’t shoot her!”

Read the next chapter.

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

Immediately the dinosaur trio responded with their green-fire cannons, and the evening air was ablaze with emerald flashes and showers of sparks and shimmering, spitting arcs of flame. The green balls of fire exploded off of Warbell’s skin in luminescent waves, flames pooling around him, burning, flashing. But Warbell kept right on walking.

“You want to make this a fight?” Warbell said. “I turned off my cybernetics. Your green fire has no effect. My whole body is in pain. Do you know how mad that makes me?”

I realized that, for whatever reason, Warbell was talking in English so that we could still understand what was being said. Possibly because he was still trying to include us as part of the conversation. Maybe just out of common courtesy. The other dinosaurs for whatever reason followed his lead.

“You have to go back to the Kingdom of all Eternity and Perfection of our People and the Future,” said the parasaurolophus as the other two dinosaurs continued to fire their cannons. “You aren’t supposed to be here, in this age.”

Warbell looked incredibly scary wreathed in the inferno, eyes flashing in the crackling flames, sharp teeth glittering in the jade light. And he just kept stalking forward.

“You knew what was happening, didn’t you?” he asked, standing taller. “You knew what really happened to (here he spoke what I assume must be the name of his mate in dinosaurese), didn’t you? You knew it wasn’t a heart attack! But you didn’t tell me! You didn’t tell anyone the truth of what happened to their loved ones! But anyone who cared to look into the matter would soon find out it wasn’t a heart attack. So what kind of conclusion do you think they would come to? Huh?”

Warbell was almost upon the trio of dinosaurs, and they started to back up. The theropod especially almost pranced away.

“I loved her!” Warbell roared, his voice so loud I had to cover my ears. “I would never hurt her! Yet some accuse me of murder! And you took her away from me!”

The theropod and the parasaurolophus broke and ran, but the triceratops stood his ground. The twin horn cannons on his head changed shape subtly, and the green light again morphed to that sharp, searing yellow I had seen in the city.

“There is more than one way to stop you,” said the triceratops. “We will do what we have to do.”

Read the next chapter.

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

No, I didn’t have any sort of grand plan. I had no idea what I was doing. But there is a certain point when all the insanity going on in my life kind of crystalized into something similar to bravery, which just proved to me that bravery is a few steps away from insanity itself. Sometimes you are so scared that the only thing left to do is something other people will think is brave.

I certainly didn’t think I was being brave. I didn’t think anything very clearly. I just started walking, and it was really uncomfortable because my pants were still wet from having peed them back in town.

Given this was the second time I had wet my pants dealing with dinosaurs, it really underscored the fact that I need to make sure my bladder is empty whenever working with Warbell.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Hey, you guys! Look, I know you’re not happy. Believe me, I am very much not happy right now, too. But let’s talk this through.”

The triceratops and the parasaurolophus were looking at me now, and they very much did not look happy. The theropod with the limp was still ignoring me and looking over my shoulder at the truck. I waved at him.

“Hey! We have a lot to talk about! So stop shooting green fireballs and start listening!” I shouted.

The parasaurolophus shook its head at me and snorted.

“This matter does not concern you, human being,” it said in a grumbling monotone. “This is a matter to be dealt with by the dinosaurs.”

I stopped in my tracks, but now I was getting mad. I yanked up my pantleg and pointed at my artificial leg.

“This doesn’t concern me, huh?” I yelled. “You know how I got this fake leg? Because of this “matter”—this “matter” that your people are stealing from earth! How do you think you are getting your babies? You’re stealing organic matter and taking it to your stupid immortal dimension when you go back with your young, and all that muscle and tissue in your babies’ bodies comes right out of us! You stole my leg, you freaking monsters!”

All three of the dinosaurs were looking at me now, and they looked surprised. At least I think that was the emotion. They stopped advancing, anyway.

“You don’t know anything about our kingdom,” said the triceratops, though its pronunciation was pretty bad due to its stiff face and beak. “We did not steal your leg.”

“Yeah?” I yelled, shaking my fist. “Are you telling me your people don’t come over on honeymoon trips to this world? And how old are you? You’re immortal, right? How long do you think humans live? Usually less than a hundred years. Yet your actions are stealing our lives, and you just keep on living forever!”

“Who told you these things?” asked the theropod in a surprisingly high and whiny voice.

The three dinosaurs started squabbling and sniping at each other, throwing barbs, grunting, barking as they slipped into dinosaur talk and back into English. After a few rounds of chattering and snorting and squalling, a sizzling stalemate seemed to settle over the situation.

“Don’t listen to him,” said the triceratops finally. “We have to finish this quickly.”

“Alright, if you won’t listen to him,” came a voice from behind me. “Then listen to me.”

I looked. There was Warbell in sharp-tooth mode striding angrily around the truck straight for the three dinosaurs.

Read the next chapter.

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

Chapter 70

The first dinosaur that we got a good look at was a triceratops, stalking forward, its horns (instead of its shoulders) jerry-rigged into cannons. The beast had a colorful frill and by this time I was yelling out some colorful expressions. Nearby was a parasaurolophus dashing towards the road, tail waving behind, the now familiar cannons emerging from it’s upper arms. The last was some kind of theropod dinosaur—look, I don’t know what they are all called. This one had lots of spots and a nasty annoyed expression. He also had a limp. I hoped that was from Furbud.

I was going to try to just dash through at top speed, but then the triceratops shot twin blasts from his cannons at a patch of road in front of my truck, causing a massive dome of green fire to block our path. I hit the brakes, and we skidded to a stop. The smell of burnt rubber assaulting my nose shortly after we stopped moving.

 “A bit of a warning would be nice,” called a cramped voice from the back of the truck. Colander. “I think I just got plastered against your back window.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m distracted!”

Warbell slowed nearby, though he walked around in circles several times instead of completely stopping.

“My legs are killing me,” he said.

“What do we do?” asked Colander. “My grenades aren’t real grenades. Itching powder isn’t going to scare these big bruisers away.”

“Stall them,” Warbell said, crouching awkwardly behind the truck now and grunting in pain. “I am going to turn off my cybernetic enhancements, but it will take some time. After I accomplish that, they can’t stun me. And if I actually try to fight them physically, there is a good chance they will run away. These dinosaurs have lived immortal lives for countless centuries in the frozen world. They are probably extremely uncomfortable right now, just being here, knowing they can die. They are probably nearly as scared as we are.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Not entirely,” said Warbell. “But I am very confident that they would never turn off their cybernetics. They are in for quite the surprise.”

There were more green explosions nearby, on the road behind us. I could hear people screaming and yelling—other drivers caught in this nightmare trying to escape from First Pumpkin. I could see some of them, too—a couple in a little two-seater, cowering and crying not more than a hundred yards away, parked awkwardly on the side of the road. Colander in the back seemed to be trying to find a miracle bomb that would kill three giants in one blow.

She was like a female Jack and the Beanstalk.

This wasn’t going to work. None of this was going to work.

I swallowed. The dinosaurs were getting closer. Another green explosion erupted nearby. I took a deep breath.

And I stepped out of the truck and started walking towards the oncoming dinosaurs.

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