Extinct Doesn't Mean Forever by Phoenix Sullivan (easy readers txt) 📕

drive down the narrow road into LA nearly every day, crossing the invisible line between the timeless, breathing hills and the city’s rush. But every night I come back into the foothills, to the house where I can smell the chaparral and hear the mountain’s heartbeat. And on weekends we tramp the hills, finding those pockets where time doesn’t exist, where the past and present and future overlap and blend into one another. We haven’t seen our saber-tooth again, but we’re hopeful, Jim and I.

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SARAH ADAMS writes urban fantasy and science fiction when she’s not teaching college English. She was a 2009 Writers of the Future semi-finalist and has sold work to Flash Fiction Online. She’s shopping around a co-written novel about a human changeling in Winter Court London and finishing her solo novel about berserkers in Buffalo, New York. She also writes about books and life on the blog A Hundred Thousand Worlds at http://ahundredthousandworlds.blogspot.com/. When she has a free moment she hikes the hills above LA. She has yet to see a saber-tooth cat — but she’s hopeful.

For millions of years, across countless species, three emotions have always remained true: fear, loneliness and love. Vesna discovers from a quite unexpected source just how old the dance of love truly is.

FOOTPRINTS ON THE BEACH

by Aleksandar Žiljak

Teeth. Sharp and backwards-curving, serrated to better tear flesh. Tearing through the peaceful herd of iguanodons grazing in the early-morning light.

The pack of roaring megalosaurs — grey carnivores mottled in camouflage green — charged through the forest clearing, throwing the iguanodons into mindless panic.

Amid the horrified screams, running on Her hind legs through the scattering stampede, She was aware only of the teeth pursuing Her, of the megalosaur zeroed in on Her, faster than Her, salivating jaws ready to bite into Her.

Instinctively c there was no time to think — She swung Her powerful tail and swerved. The megalosaur deftly evaded the deadly blow that nearly slammed into its head, but lost the pace in the process. Its jaws snapped onto empty air. But the predator didn’t give up.

Nothing else but those teeth on Her mind, She rushed noisily into tall cycads and gingkoes and magnolias, hoping to lose the bloodthirsty beast, using the dense growth to slow it and give Her a chance to escape. She leaped over a fallen, moss-covered log. Her massive body broke through shoots, heavy feet squashing horsetails and ferns beneath Her, frightened insects bursting left and right. Something tiny and hairy scurried into the thicket, barely escaping being trampled.

She heard a scream behind Her — the sound of deep wounds and imminent death. A heavy body collapsed with a thud, its stiff tail thrashing helplessly against the ground. She glimpsed forelimbs waving through air as the hapless creature tried to stab its attackers with pointed thumb spikes. The sounds of the kill faded as She ran. Hungry carnivores snarling and hissing as they squabbled over the best pieces of meat, torn from still-living iguanodon.Hot blood gushing and painting the world red.

Driven by panic, cries of ruthless slaughter echoing in Her mind, She didn’t realize that Her pursuer wasn’t chasing Her anymore — that it had turned back for its part of the carnage. Long after She was safe, She still rushed mindlessly through the forest. Until finally, some trace of reason broke through Her terror and told Her it was over. Exhausted, panting, She stopped and listened over the heartbeats thundering in Her ears.

Around Her, the ancient forest spoke softly. Quiet chattering of small feathered dinosaurs hidden under ferns, clawed feet rustling dry leaves as they searched for anything small enough to be snatched and swallowed. Whistling of pterosaurs hunting dragonflies above Her; their grayish, leathery wings flapping as they maneuvered skillfully between tall trees. Those were all usual sounds; the sounds She heard every day.

Relieved, She decided the danger was past, left far behind.

But where was She? She looked around.

The tall sequoias — thick pillars with reddish bark — seemed unfamiliar. After a short exploration, She realized She had never been in this part of the forest before. Lifting Her head, She took a deep breath and let out a long, sad, piercing call. Then She listened. Every living being in the forest around Her went still, their daily routines suddenly interrupted by the strange, loud call. She called again and listened. Silence. She called a third time — but there was no reply. That could mean only one thing: She was so far from the herd they couldn’t hear Her anymore. And that filled Her with unease. Fear.Alarm.

Throughout the day, She called and listened, called and listened, called and listened. Finally, She only called, growing more and more desperate with every unanswered call. For the first time in Her life, She was separated from the comfort of the herd.

For the first time in Her life, She was all alone.

~~~

Vesna sits on the bench under the pines. Sunset blazes above the sea, setting the sky on fire. Behind her, in a laurel bush, a little dinosaur with watchful eyes warns that a cat is on the prowl. The dinosaur has wings, black feathers, and a yellow bill. Next to Vesna, sketched on sheets of paper in the portfolio, rest some other dinosaurs: distant relatives of the blackbird with the watchful eyes, the chirping sparrows and the titmouse above her, and gulls returning from the sea.

A lock of blonde hair falls across Vesna’s eye. She swipes at it angrily. And then the day’s pent emotions erupt like magma from somewhere deep inside her, and her lake-blue eyes fill with tears. Vesna covers her face with her hands and shakes as she sobs. The knot in her stomach – clenched there since morning — threatens to burst loose. Somehow she managed to hold back on the dig, to hide tears from her colleagues, to evade questions and sympathetic looks. But now …

Sobs bring release, and after several minutes she calms down, sniffing, wiping