Buy Survive by Stephen Llewelyn at Amazon

Buy Survive by Stephen Llewelyn

Survive by Stephen Llewelyn

Here are a couple of excerpts from the new book which was released 18th September. Thanks for reading :o)


      Gleeson frowned and asked, “Do you think they can land this bucket?”
      “We’ll soon find out,” replied Wright and held out his hand, “Captain.”
      Gleeson took it and shook it, “Doctor.”
      “Good luck!” they said together.
      With that the first tremors started. The men felt weightless for a second before being slammed down to the deck “Aargh! Me bladdy backside!” shouted Gleeson.
Wright hit his head on the wall rail in the corridor where they were stationed; he didn’t lose consciousness but it hurt like hell and before he knew it he had blood from his brow trickling into his eye.
“You OK, Wrighto?” asked the Australian, shouting above the ambient roar which filled their world.

      “I’ve felt better!” bawled Wright. The ship bucked and threw them up and down as well as sideways. “I wish we were in proper crash seats!”
      “Don’t use the ‘C’ word mate!” shouted Gleeson.
      “I didn’t, did I?” asked Wright, looking mortified.
      Gleeson laughed but his levity was rewarded with another plunge. “Aargh!” he screamed again, as his buttocks struck deck once more. “I wish I’d taken the bladdy number down now!” he yelled.
      Wright was being shaken all over the place and was struggling to remain conscious. “The number?” he managed through gritted teeth.
      “The one on the back of the ship!” shouted Gleeson; the noise was cataclysmic now.
      Wright tried again, with his last bit of strength he cried out, “Which damned number?”
      “How am I driving?” hollered Gleeson as they both descended into the black.


      Captain Douglas started to take a few steps forward unthinkingly; he stumbled on a tuft of earth which brought him back to his senses but he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. At the edges of the clearing some deforestation was taking place with no regard at all for the environment; but then, when an eighty ton Sauropod dinosaur pushes a tree over it stays pushed.
      It started with one giant neck pushing through the treetops, closely followed by an enormous, barrel-shaped body, but it wasn’t finished there. By the time the tail was revealed there were three of them and then seven and then lots. The herd smashed their way through the forest like gargantuan, slow-motion mowers. Smaller animals dashed out of the trees, running or flying off in all directions, livid about the intrusion and their impending homelessness. Once the trees were felled, their tops were stripped at an industrial rate by some seriously big eaters.
      The herd must have had a hundred or more members. The smallest were probably about five or six metres in length from their small heads to the tips of their swishing and flicking tails; but these were just tots compared to the forty metre plus adults. Their skin tone ranged from green to brown, some were more brown to grey. The fifty-year-old man in Douglas’ mind wondered if they changed hue with age as the smaller ones were more ‘forest coloured’. Perhaps that was a defence mechanism for the much more vulnerable young ones, allowing them to hide in the trees until they were big enough to join the herd? Those were the thoughts of the man; but the little boy in Douglas’ mind just laughed for the simple joy of it all and continued to laugh until the fifty-year-old man let him out.
      All of the six men laughed then, some even tearfully, at the sheer wonder of this life. The force shared by every creature that has ever lived, or will ever live.
      As their hearts soared and the moment owned them, reality began a dirty-tricks campaign. The trees off to their right exploded into motion as massive animals flew out of the forest in rapid succession; ten, twelve, fifteen. They ran on their hugely powerful hind legs with tails straight out, perfectly balanced, their mouths open, bellowing challenge; the claws on their much smaller forelimbs reaching and grasping in anticipation of carnage. The roaring was deafening, the speed alarming; screaming, the peace fell.
      The six stood stock-still, shocked. The Sarge was well versed in controlling his fear but this was a test he would never forget. One of the giants ran close to the men; a huge male, he slowed and looked Douglas straight in the eyes and the Captain’s legs felt like water. That split-second glance was like looking into a furnace, a heart of infinite violence. The animal roared at him, making Douglas lose his balance, his ears ringing, and then the creature picked up the pace and took off after his brethren faster than any athlete could match. The message was clear; why stoop to pick up a nugget off the floor when there’s a half pounder with everything, waiting on a plate?
      Douglas was not offended. His mind raced as his body slowed. He felt such pity for those wonderful, majestic, peaceful creatures who were about to have their world torn apart and then he thought of the New World, the bomb, Mario, images, images, connections… images. A sound started in his stomach, came up through his lungs and tore out of his throat – “Get the bloody hell out of here!” he screamed.
      The spell broke and all six men ran like all the demons in hell were after them; none daring to break step long enough to even check over his shoulder. After what seemed like an eternity they threw themselves into the airlock and the last man in hit the close.
      The men collapsed, chests heaving and that was how they were found by Commander Baines as she opened the inner hatch. “I take it that didn’t go well?” she asked.
      “Let’s just say,” said Douglas, breathing heavily, “that you can tell Dr Portree we’ve found her some logs for her palisade,” he panted again, “but Ah wouldnae try and collect them just yet.”