Monsters

By  Matt Cowger, (c) 1999 I saw it happening every minute. Each time I made the mistake of leaving the safe room, into the sterile white bathroom, and leaving waste in the self-sealing disposal, the bit of silvered hull looked at me. Time was counting down. I ran the instrument diagno
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Wants

By Michael Beck, (c) 1999 Megan Lathuse looked down at the baby and felt envy stab through her. He’ll know so much more, she thought. He’ll die thirty years after I will, and as he grows up he’ll read about my time in history books. He’ll live in a world I can&
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The Tumla

By Thomas Asbury & Alex Peery, (c) 1999 Dear Jonathon, Since you are reading this, you can be fairly certain that I am dead, or worse than dead. If events have proceeded as I planned (I suspect that they have, since they depend solely upon that most ubiquitous of human qualities:
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The Forever Man

By Jonathan Turner, (c) 1999 THE elevator door opened and Rydell stepped out, wrinkling his nose at the familiar hospital scent of antiseptic. He flashed his badge at the cop seated behind the desk at the entrance to the intensive care unit and walked past briskly, pushing through two
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Callahan’s Endtimes Saloon

By Mark McFadden, (c) 1999 I watched helplessly as Nicholas and Niobe entered the lawyer’s office. Nicholas was scrubbed and collegiate; our Niobe was all rosy to be in the field. Her IRS credentials and CPA training were going to be more useful in the interview than my skill se
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