The final Flashback begins ... It's all led to this. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a final trilogy of tales that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and so many others as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From For a Devil Has Fallen from the Sky: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still wat—” Do you really think that He could be so forgiving and so mild; so compassionate, so humane? The Son of the God who drowned the world and bested the Nazis by about 190 million dead? The Son of the God who created flesh knowing its very existence was contingent on suffering? No; your mistake is in assuming you were ever redeemable—even before you murdered Calvin and burned him alive on the White House lawn. Your mistake is in fearing for your soul when the only thing I’m interested in is what you can do for me, what only Calvin’s killer can, for that was an act of nihilism which pleased us, and which brought you to our attention. Yea, we thought, here is a rising star! I care not about your soul. I care that you restart the Burn and destroy them, the humans, who deserve to be destroyed. I care that you go to Montana and encircle their encampment and cut them off, so that we can kill them from the skies. Do these things for me and I shall restore your daughter’s health. And then Leif looked down and realized he’d taken one of the parrots from the cage and had been preparing to wring its neck; to offer it up to Szambelan. Then he realized the full extent to which he had been influenced—hypnotized—and still he could not resist, could not decline, but only mumbled, “But how will I do it? I am just a youth, just a teen. I haven’t that kind of power.” I will give you the power. Power even to control the winds, make a storm of hail … The power to do as I ask and save your daughter. Nor will you be alone, for our forces are gathering even as we speak; gathering in legions and columns and herds of beasts; gathering like a storm, the likes of which the world has never seen. At which Leif found himself gazing west at the tempestuous clouds—even as a white, hairy arm settled on his shoulders—feeling as though he’d been reborn (yet again); feeling as though he might soar—when the baby cried from inside the Presidential Suite and Marigold called out to him, anxiously, urgently, breaking the bond between them like a vase. Severing the cord between them like a knife. “Refuse,” he said, shaken, and exhaled. “I refuse your offer.” And when he looked again the shadow on the tiles was that of a tree, not a monster, and the darkening sky was flickering and electric. After which he put the black and red parrot back into its confines and went in—but not before the hail started falling like stones on the tiles and on the tables, on the umbrellas and chairs, and on the metal roof of the birdcage, which rattled and chimed.

The final Flashback begins ... It's all led to this. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a final trilogy of tales that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and so many others as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! Welcome to the world of the Flashback, a world in which man’s cities have become overgrown jungles and extinct animals wander the ruins. You can survive here, if you're lucky, and if you're not in the wrong place at the wrong time--which is everywhere, all the time. But what you'll never do is remain the same, for this is a world whose very purpose is to challenge you, a world where anything can and will happen. So take a deep dive into these loosely connected tales of the Dinosaur Apocalypse (each of which can be read individually or as a part of the greater saga): tales of wonder and terror, death and survival, blood and beauty. Do it today, before the apocalypse comes. From This Savage and Beautiful Night: “Francis,” said Bella Ray—indicating the mic should be given to him. “Go.” “Ah—” He took the cordless mic and placed it near his lips. “Test, test … Okay.” He cleared his throat. “This is in response to Sheila. Because, what you don’t understand, Miss, is that that was no mere wind—it was a conduit; and in that conduit I could hear them,” He looked at the sky; at the Flashback Borealis—now diminished by the sun—and the drifting lights (which were of a color no one had ever seen). “Which I have heard before, as you know.” He indicated the crowd. “As everyone knows. Because the truth is, I have been closer to their dark materials than anyone—anyone here in Barley, that’s for sure. And I am telling you: there was something in their voices this time that wasn’t there before, something, I think, that they’ve never experienced. And that’s fear.” At which the amphitheater fell ghostly silent, at least for a moment. “Well, fear of what, exactly?” called a man with a stump for a hand (his name was Roger), at last. “They’re sure as hell not afraid of us.” Francis just shook his head. “I don’t know. Fear of whatever’s at the center of that labyrinth; which is why they’re gathering on it. Maybe even the fear that it will somehow affect their precious Flashback ...” “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” blurted someone—some punk kid, I believe his name was Lonny. “So you’re saying there’s two conflicting forces—sort of like a football game—one of which is responsible for the Flashback, while the other is even now beckoning to us?” He laughed and slapped his hat against his hip. “Well, hell, man, sign me up with the Beckoner! Let’s do this!” Laughter; laughter and riotous applause—which devolved into chaos—as Bella Ray threw up her arms and someone tossed torn paper (like confetti) and something parted the crowd like a float, like a tank. Something that turned out to be an armored dinosaur (an ankylosaurus) with a man walking beside it, a duo I knew to be the great Ank and Williams themselves—veterans of the Dinosaur War and the Bearers of the Hammer. The Legends of the North. “That’s just precisely what he’s saying,” shouted Williams assuredly, authoritatively. “And he’s exactly right to do so—because that’s the situation.” He looked at Francis, who brought him the cordless microphone. “And it’s high time we accepted it; and started drawing up our plans. Because friends—fellow survivors, veterans of the Big One and all those who have come here because they heard Radio Free Montana, it’s all come down to this.”

The final Flashback begins ... It's all led to this. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a final trilogy of tales that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and so many others as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From The War-torn Hills of Earth: The gold fog rolled and so did the water, foaming and frothing, revealing first the photonics mast and communications antennas, then The Sarpedon’s black, sea-slicked sail and forward fins, then its great, dark, parabolic bow—which breached the surface at an angle, like the plesiosaurs and ichthyosaurs and mosasaurs swimming alongside—until, still steaming forward, the ship was fully surfaced and its aft fins visible; at which three people—two men and a small woman with a bob haircut—appeared in the sail. “Jesus,” gasped Puckett, the engineering chief, as he looked at the beasts, which filled the water for as far as the eye could see (which nonetheless wasn’t very far, due to the fog). “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. The sonar doesn’t lie.” Captain O’Neil was more circumspect. “But why, goddammit. That’s what I want to know. I’ve certainly never seen them migrate en masse like this—like Hammerhead sharks. What’s the reason?” Both of them had to shout over the crash and commotion of the waves. Pang signed excitedly at them as the wind chopped her hair. “What’s she saying?” Puckett, who’d been working with her, paraphrased: “She’s saying, ‘What if they were called too—only in a different way?’” He watched as she continued to sign. “‘Or—considering the dream used sound and imagery instead of words—the exact same way?’” O’Neil looked at the marine animals as they leapt and dove and swam powerfully alongside. Aye, but for a different reason, he thought. “Ho!” cried Chief Puckett suddenly. “The Santa Monica Pier!” O’Neil peered into the fog and saw the tiny silhouette of a Ferris wheel emerging from the gloom, then unhooked his mic. “Half ahead, revolutions 500—and mind the beasties.” He looked at Pang. “Yes, I’m going to send a team ashore. And no, you’re not—” And that’s when it happened: that’s when the pterodactyl flapped down like an oyster-white threshing machine and snatched her up by the shoulders—began rising. That’s when O’Neil drew his sidearm—even as Puckett grabbed her by the ankle—but couldn’t get a shot in through the pounding wings and Pang’s own flailing—until there was the briefest of openings, and he did fire. Until he got lucky, and the bird fell and so did Pang—still being gripped by her ankle—so that she was flipped upside down and slammed against the sail—which her head hit like a rock. So that she was knocked unconscious even as Puckett and O’Neil held tightly and ultimately dragged her back into the conning tower. After which, drearily—for they were unable to wake her or get any sort of reaction at all—there was nothing to do but take her to the infirmary and monitor her. Nothing to do, frankly, but pray.

It's all come down to this. The saga is finished. There will be no more. These three signature editions contain every Flashback story ever written (1993-2023), plus the latest and final stories: This Savage and Beautiful Night, For a Devil Has Fallen from the Sky, and The War-Torn Hills of Earth. More than just an omnibus, Legends of the Flashback ends the saga with a bang--everything is resolved, nothing is left out. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a trilogy that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and more as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From Legends of the Flashback: He caught up to her and turned her around even as the wind surged all around them in a gale. "Okay: okay, okay, so--I'm crazy, fine. Whatever you like," He held up his freshly-bandaged hand. "But this isn't crazy, Lisa. This is as real as you or me, or, or Puck. And I'm telling you right now ... we have a chance to fix this, this thing. This Flashback." He gestured expansively, "This whole thing; this apocalypse, this Big Empty. We go to California--and if we succeed--well, guess what? It all goes away; every last stinking bit of it: the dinosaurs, the lawlessness, the lack of medical care--the hopelessness--all gone, just wiped clean. Just erased from the sands of time, like the untold billions lost in the Flashback, who, by the way, will all be alive again, just as alive as you or me." He stepped closer and gripped her shoulders, firmly, gently. "We'll be alive again, and not just surviving, not just--what? What is it?" And she backed away from him: dizzily, it seemed, horrified. "I take it you haven't exactly thought this all the way through," she said, still seeming to reel, then gathered herself. "Okay; so just say it was possible--I mean, it isn't, but just say it was--say the time-storm was reversible ... well, what would happen to us? I mean, us now, right here, talking on this beautiful beach ... where would we go?" He thought about it, the wind buffeting his hair. "We'd ... we'd cease to exist, I suppose. Just sort of fade away to nothing." He brightened as though he'd just thought of something. "But we'd rematerialize in the past; before the Flashback ever even happened, before ..." He trailed off as though lost in thought. "It's still a kind of death, Nick. A kind of total annihilation." She plopped down and looked out at the sea. "Would you really wish that on anyone? On a child born after the Flashback, say? My God, Nick, it's been seven years. Doesn't that child deserve some kind of shot at life, too?" He looked down at her soberingly, then sat down next to her in the sand. "Well, what about all the seven-year-olds lost in the Flashback? Or, for that matter, all those born just before? Or still in the womb?" He put his arm around her and gazed out over the ocean. "That's what happens when someone," He glanced at the lights in the sky, "something, decides to play God. Others have to play God, too." And then neither of them said anything more but just looked at the sea and the lightening clouds--at the sun which was starting to come out--at the pterodactyls swooping and diving for fish.

It's all come down to this. The saga is finished. There will be no more. These three signature editions contain every Flashback story ever written (1993-2023), plus the latest and final stories: This Savage and Beautiful Night, For a Devil Has Fallen from the Sky, and The War-Torn Hills of Earth. More than just an omnibus, Legends of the Flashback ends the saga with a bang--everything is resolved, nothing is left out. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a trilogy that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and more as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From Legends of the Flashback: "Okay, but ..." A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair stepped out: Peter, the airline pilot. "It's all come down to what, exactly?" More shouts and upheaval, more chaos, more pandemonium --until Williams crouched and drew a spiral in the sand, tapped its center. "There. The Hollywood Hills. That's where our maze is at--that's the eye of the storm." Gasps and shocked utterances, muttering, disbelief. He stood and addressed the crowd. "Listen: don't ask me to explain all this because I can't, okay? I mean, Ank might be able to do it but unfortunately only I can hear him--so you're just going to have to take my word for it, or not at all. All I know is that that is the source of the vision and that we need to go there like, now, this eve--meaning that an advance team should set out even while the main column is being raised." He scanned the throng. "We'll need warriors. Who among you will travel with me even tonight? Red? Satanta?" "I travel alone," said Satanta, standing amidst the crowd sans warpaint. "But I will prepare Blucifer immediately and meet you in the hills." "And I'll oversee the armada," said Red. "It'll be just like when we defended against Szambelan." "I'm in," said Travis. "Once a Marine, always a Marine. Semper fi." "I'm in, too," said an albino girl that I knew only as Luna. "Because you're going to need me on this one. I can just feel it." Williams thought about it and then nodded. And then he climbed up Ank's tail and addressed everyone from the beast's back: "Hear me, hear me, men and woman of the free state of Montana! Know that--even as we've argued here today and debated over the vision and how best to respond to it, know that there have been others--hundreds, even thousands--elsewhere, who have been doing the same thing; and that it is in that that we may take comfort, for we need not even face the labyrinth alone. But alas, also know this: which is that when one side is summoned--so must be the other; and work as if there is no time at all--for indeed, there may not be. And may God be with--" But I was no longer there--no longer in the amphitheater at all--finding myself back on the beach in time for a sixth eye to open, to blink and clear the sleep from itself, to look on me like a mirror, like a speculum. To show me standing with three others before a great machine covered in tarps--a machine which had been mothballed, neglected, left out in the dust--a machine whose sleek front end could nonetheless be made out--and on whose silvery hull was printed a single word and number: Gargantua 1.

It's all come down to this. The saga is finished. There will be no more. These three signature editions contain every Flashback story ever written (1993-2023), plus the latest and final stories: This Savage and Beautiful Night, For a Devil Has Fallen from the Sky, and The War-Torn Hills of Earth. More than just an omnibus, Legends of the Flashback ends the saga with a bang--everything is resolved, nothing is left out. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a trilogy that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and more as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From Legends of the Flashback: "Okay, but ..." A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair stepped out: Peter, the airline pilot. "It's all come down to what, exactly?" Williams just looked at him-as though the answer should be obvious. "Why, raising an army, of course. Building an armada. Dusting off the weapons from the Big One and getting to it; getting busy." Gasps and shocked utterances, muttering, disbelief. He stood and addressed the crowd. "Listen: don't ask me to explain all this because I can't, okay? I mean, Ank might be able to do it but unfortunately only I can hear him-so you're just going to have to take my word for it. All I know is that we need to go, like, now, this eve-meaning that an advance team should set out even while the main column is being raised." He scanned the throng. "We'll need warriors. Who among you will travel with me? Red? Satanta?" "I travel alone," said Satanta, standing amidst the crowd sans warpaint. "But I will prepare Blucifer immediately and meet you in the hills." "And I'll oversee the armada," said Red. "It'll be just like when we defended against Szambelan." "I'm in," said Travis. "Once a Marine, always a Marine. Semper fi." "I'm in, too," said an albino girl that I knew only as Luna. "Because you're going to need me on this one. I can just feel it." Williams thought about it and then nodded. And then he climbed up Ank's tail and addressed everyone from the beast's back: "Hear me, hear me, men and woman of the free state of Montana! Know that-even as we've argued and debated over the vision and how best to respond to it, know that there have been others-hundreds, even thousands-elsewhere, who have been doing the same thing; and that it is in that that we may take comfort, for we need not face the threat alone. But also know this: which is that when one side is summoned-so must be the other; and work as if there is no time at all-for indeed, there may not be. And may God be with us."

It's all come down to this. The saga is finished. There will be no more. These three signature editions contain every Flashback story ever written (1993-2023), plus the latest and final stories: This Savage and Beautiful Night, For a Devil Has Fallen from the Sky, and The War-Torn Hills of Earth. More than just an omnibus, Legends of the Flashback ends the saga with a bang--everything is resolved, nothing is left out. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a trilogy that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and more as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From Legends of the Flashback: "Okay, but ..." A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair stepped out: Peter, the airline pilot. "It's all come down to what, exactly?" Williams just looked at him-as though the answer should be obvious. "Why, raising an army, of course. Building an armada. Dusting off the weapons from the Big One and getting to it; getting busy." "But that could take weeks, even months ..." -Sammy, former ne'er-do-well and worldly-wise veteran of the Dinosaur War, who had something in common with Williams: Sheila. "And where in the hell would we even go? We don't have a destination." More shouts and upheaval, more chaos, more pandemonium -until Williams crouched and drew a spiral in the sand, tapped its center. "There. The Hollywood Hills. That's where our maze is at-that's the eye of the storm." Gasps and shocked utterances, muttering, disbelief. He stood and addressed the crowd. "Listen: don't ask me to explain all this because I can't, okay? I mean, Ank might be able to do it but unfortunately only I can hear him-so you're just going to have to take my word for it, or not at all. All I know is that that is the source of the vision and that we need to go there like, now, this eve-meaning that an advance team should set out even while the main column is being raised." He scanned the throng. "We'll need warriors. Who among you will travel with me even tonight? Red? Satanta?" "I travel alone," said Satanta, standing amidst the crowd sans warpaint. "But I will prepare Blucifer immediately and meet you in the hills." "And I'll oversee the armada," said Red. "It'll be just like when we defended against Szambelan." "I'm in," said Travis. "Once a Marine, always a Marine. Semper fi." "I'm in, too," said an albino girl that I knew only as Luna. "Because you're going to need me on this one. I can just feel it." Williams thought about it and then nodded. And then he climbed up Ank's tail and addressed everyone from the beast's back: "Hear me, hear me, men and woman of the free state of Montana! Know that-even as we've argued here today and debated over the vision and how best to respond to it, know that there have been others-hundreds, even thousands-elsewhere, who have been doing the same thing; and that it is in that that we may take comfort, for we need not even face the labyrinth alone. But alas, also know this: which is that when one side is summoned-so must be the other; and work as if there is no time at all-for indeed, there may not be. And may God be with-" But I was no longer there-no longer in the amphitheater at all-finding myself back on the beach in time for a sixth eye to open, to blink and clear the sleep from itself, to look on me like a mirror, like a speculum. To show me standing with three others before a great machine covered in tarps-a machine which had been mothballed, neglected, left out in the dust-a machine whose sleek front end could nonetheless be made out-and on whose silvery hull was printed a single word and number: