Thunder Road and Other Stories (ePub)

In a world beyond imagination, they would stand by each other no matter what ...

After a devastating time-storm called the Flashback eliminates most the population and recolonizes the world with prehistoric flora and fauna, three boys bearing a powerful talisman set out on an impossible quest.

An all-new post-apocalyptic adventure for mature young adults set in the same world as Flashback, A Survivor's Guide to the Dinosaur Apocalypse, Ank and Williams, A Reign of Thunder and The Lost Country.

From Thunder Road:

I don't know why we stared at that dead pterodactyl chick so long-there wasn't anything particularly striking or even gross about it; there were no flies, for example, no maggots-just a couple of butterflies, one white and the other burnt orange, which matched the fading sunlight.

Maybe it was our nonstop ride all the way from Biggs Junction near the Washington border to Multnomah Falls, which was closer to Portland (I mean, it's a lot of work, peddling a BMX bicycle some 70-plus miles, even across level terrain). Or maybe it was how paper-thin the creature's exsanguinous, oyster-white skin was, how almost translucent, or the way its little talons weren't really talons at all but little hands, like a baby's hands. All I remember for certain is how contemplative everyone seemed to get while looking down at it-how funereal; even elegiac-like we were saying goodbye to one of our own. All I remember for certain is something akin to holding vigil for a fellow traveler; which, in a very real sense, we were.

"For him, the war is over," I whispered-although I doubt anyone heard me over the crash and roar of the falls. "I wonder where Mom is …"

"Not here, that's for sure," said Quint. "There are no nests."

I followed his gaze into the treetops and beyond, to the waterfall itself, which dashed and cascaded down the cliffs. "Weird. I mean-where the hell could it have come from?"

"Maybe it came from up there," said Jesse. "From the very top. There's-there's a platform up there, a wooden observation deck. We came here on a field trip once and hiked up to it. Be a good place to build a nest-real stable. And defensible."

I looked from one end of the concrete bridge-"Benson Bridge," the sign had called it-which was closed off with cyclone fencing, to the other. "Speaking of which, this bridge looks pretty defensible-don't you think?" I peered off the way we had come. "Only one side to protect; we can take turns standing watch … I mean, it may not be the Ritz but-what do you say?"