John T. Cullen has authored over 20 books, including The Generals of October (Simon & Schuster, 2004)—pulse-pounding political-military suspense fiction set in a near-future U.S. Constitutional crisis.
|
John T. Cullen also writes screenplays, including one for Nebula Express (adapted from his SF novel) and the violent, darkly glistening, utterly strange tale of a serial killer in Scorpion.
|
If you like what you read here, please send at least two other avid readers here so a growing readership can enjoy these books. That would be a great, painless, easy way to provide a huge assist. If you'd like to do more...click.
|
Robinson Crusoe 1,000,000 A.D.
a novel
by John T. Cullen
|
|
26.
Soon after, as he was crossing the beach, he could only think about that second hide he wanted very badly.
He had his big bow, ten big arrows, and a stone knife. He wore only a leather loincloth so that he could move unencumbered.
He had planned his day’s work very carefully.
He jogged down to the cattle, and predictably they stampeded a bit. A few ran into the water, and that was where he shot a medium size bull. He was still a bit leery of his predatory lifestyle—Alex Kirk had disliked hunting, saying he’d only do it for survival—and he would rather choose to kill a male than a possible mother with young who would be left behind.
The bull took his arrow through the neck and stood lowing in pain, stunned. He put another arrow through his neck, hoping to sever arteries, but the animal just turned to face him and put its horns down as if to attack. Then he saw the poor beast was staggering. He ran close and put another arrow into him from underneath, as close as he could to where he guessed his heart must be. The bull toppled over and he danced out of the way.
Still no sign of the rippers.
Alex emerged from the water with this incredibly wet, heavy square of hide. He managed to drag it onto the dry sand above the tide line, fleshy side up, and decided to leave it to the sun and to carrion seekers to clean it for him. He was tired, and it was too heavy just now. Heavy arrow at ready, he sprinted again across the sand. All the while he heard his ragged, panicked breathing as he felt the sand sucking in every footstep, slowing him down. He stumbled over a sharp rock and cried out in pain but kept going. He looked more carefully where he was going—he’d be dead if he stumbled and sprained an ankle. He hopped up to the first rock, raced across his ladder, and pulled the ladder up for the next hop. Already, he was out of reach of any potential rippers. Slowly and carefully, he made his way back up the rocks, one by one. The biggest rock loaf had a surface about ten feet by six feet. He could rest there a few moments and look back. The hide lay on the beach, covered by birds that pecked it clean for him. Some of the birds had sharp beaks for poking open shells—He hoped they wouldn’t damage the hide too much. He was already daydreaming about the things he could do with that hide, from fancying up his water still, to dressing more warmly.
He decided to walk back to the cliff. Halfway across, he slipped and fell. He managed to grasp the ladder and hold on. The ladder turned once, but then stabilized. Then the rung he was holding came loose. As he struggled in midair, he smelled ripper. Horrified, as he twirled in space, he saw their tusks and their tiny eyes just a few feet below him. They must have been watching the whole time, waiting for him to make a mistake. Now it looked as if they had him. He could see the cold determination and triumphant hunger in their eyes. He could see the wetness in their pink snouts as they salivated for a taste of him. The hide wasn’t strong enough to hold his weight. He grasped the poles with both hands and shimmied as quickly as he could to the ledge. The wood crashed down below him, just as he got his heel out of reach—but not before he heard the snap of jaws and felt the hot breath of a ripper on his foot.
He clambered frantically up the rocks, scrambled onto the dry grass atop his sky island, and lay down sobbing in relief that he was alive.
|
If you like what you're reading, please send at least two other avid readers to this website.
—Thank you! …Your grateful author, John T. Cullen.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Other gripping books by the author:
Copyright © 2005 by John T. Cullen. All Rights Reserved.
John T. Cullen has been a pioneer in digital publishing since 1996. He is listed by digital publishing historian Karen Wiesner as the sixth digital publisher in history, and the second person to publish serialized chapters on line (starting 1996). His web magazine Deep Outside SFFH was the first to be listed along with the professional pulps in Writer's Market (1999) and was at one time the oldest professional SFFH magazine in the world. John T. Cullen continues to explore new ways to adapt the primordial power of storytelling to emerging new digital opportunities as the Third Millennium springs to light.
|
|
|
A Walk in Ancient Rome John T. Cullen (Simon&Schuster May 2005) innovative, acclaimed walking & teaching tour—explore every corner of the Imperial capital at its zenith almost 2000 years ago; learn its history—smell and taste the very air of Classical Rome.
|
= Summer 2008 =
A Walk in Ancient Rome, Second Edition John T. Cullen (Clocktower Books 2008)—New! Many new maps; images from the unique scale model of AndréCaron of Quebec. Read this innovative book, with its acclaimed walking & teaching tour. Explore every corner of the Imperial capital at its zenith almost 2000 years ago; learn its history. Smell and taste the very air of Classical Rome. The new edition is bigger, like an atlas. Some people have carried the 1st edition with them to Rome, and found it greatly enhanced their experience.
Dead Move: Kate Morgan and the Haunting Mystery of Coronado, 2nd Ed. John T. Cullen (Clocktower Books, San Diego, Summer 2008). John T. Cullen has tackled the mystery of the ghost at the Hotel del Coronado. He has assembled a dramatic new theory about how and why she violently died on the back steps of the hotel in 1892. A first-class ghost story and whodunit wrapped in one.
|
