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Savage Survival
cover design 2007 Kurt Ozinga.



Millions of earthmen have been captured by aliens and are being put through the strangest and most terrifying survival tests ever imagined. Young Lyda Brightner’s first experience after being thrown into the midst of undisciplined humans is so horrible that she vows she will never let it happen again, and that somehow she will live long enough extract revenge on the creatures responsible.


Chapter Excerpt




Savage Survival

brutal coming of age story


Darrell Bain






Her parents were scared; horribly scared. Eleven year old Lyda Brightner could tell that much by how white and strained their faces were, by the way they tried to keep her away from the viewscreen in the den where they had been practically living for the last few days, leaving only for short breaks and even then wearing the earpieces so that they could follow what was happening. It was a war, an invasion, she was pretty sure of that from the little snippets of news she had caught when peeking into the den, and from conversations with the few friends she had been able to talk to. Mostly the phone lines were always either busy or made strange crackling sounds like bacon grease popping in a hot skillet. It must be bad, she thought, from the way Mom and Dad are acting. And there had been no school this morning. That was the real signal because always before there was an explanation, like a tornado or storms or a terrorist threat. This time nothing had been said except that she was to stay home and do her lessons in her room. She had done that, and now she was bored, with the rest of the day stretching out before her like a deserted playground. Not even a new book to read on her computer or phone.

Lyda stood by the doorless entrance to the den, trying to turn herself into a small quiet animal that wouldn't be noticed. A rabbit, she thought, like in Watership Down. No one notices a rabbit. She closed her eyes and envisioned herself huddled down in the grass, a little white bunny with ears laid flat so they wouldn't peek out and give her away. It seemed to be working because for a while she stood and watched and listened, her presence undetected.

At first she didn't understand what she was seeing. She thought Mom and Dad must be watching a monster movie. Bright silvery spider-like constructs crawled on multiple legs across a landscape of loose rubble and debris while little ant beings scurried to get out of their way. Then it popped into perspective. The rubble was the ruins of buildings; the ants were people trying to avoid…being eaten? That was what it looked like at first, but then she saw that the people were being herded, with the spider things acting like cowboys on horses or like sheepdogs working a flock. The silvery spiders were nothing to fool with, she saw. Anyone who tried to fight or run the wrong way was killed gruesomely by mandible-like appendages that pierced bodies like giant needles stitching clothes on puppets.

Periodically a long broad tongue of blue fire would lash out from an opening among the multiple sets of mandibles adorning the front of the spiders and sweep a path through the crowds of people running frantically over the debris-strewn streets. Whenever the band of energy touched a group of people, bluish lightning flared and the figures would go limp for a moment, crash to the ground, then they would get up and run even faster than before—if they were able. Some weren't and were ignored or stepped on and crushed by the multiple-jointed appendages supporting the spiders. In a few moments, out would come the tongue of energy again, touching more people with its blue lightning and hurrying them along like an extra powerful cattle prod. But where were they going? Why were they being chased and harassed like gangs of vermin?

The mandibles of the creatures moved constantly, opening and closing as if seeking something to bite, though nothing except humans who chose to fight ever came within their grip. Other appendages waved in a roving pattern below the mandibles, touching the ground, dead bodies, ruined vehicles, poking into shattered doorways. Whiskers, Lyda thought. They're like the whiskers of a cat, telling it what's near.

The whole scene was awesomely frightening, but so fascinating that she couldn't look away. Lyda thought it must be real, not only because of the way her parents were staring so fearfully, but because the colors weren't so bright as animations and the movements of the spidery beings and the humans were too smooth and natural looking. But if it were real…

"Lyda! What are you doing here?"

Lyda jumped guiltily. Mom and Dad were both staring at her like she had done something bad. "I only wanted to watch."

"This is nothing someone your age should see," Dad said sternly. He cut off the sound and picture, leaving only the earpiece to provide him a feed.

"Your Dad is right, honey," Mom said. "It isn't necessary for you to see such...such…"

"It's real, isn't it?" Lyda asked, already knowing that it was. She loved her parents. Sometimes they were even cool, but they still tried to treat her like a little girl and she wasn't that little any more. She was eleven now, going on twelve.

Mom and Dad looked at each other from where they were seated side by side on the big leather couch.

Dad sighed, as if releasing a terrible burden from inside his body. "Yes, sweetie, it is real, but we're not in any danger yet. Maybe the military will…" His voice trailed off.

Lyda thought that if the military was going to do something, it ought to get started—if that scene she had been looking at was any indication. She took a few hesitant steps into the den, the toes of her bare feet curling into the carpet. "What are those spider thingys? Are they aliens from outer space?"

Abruptly Mom burst into tears. Dad put his arm around her and patted her shoulder. From around the tangle of Mom's bright red curls, the exact same shade as her own, Dad said, "I guess so. Yes, they must be. But Lyda…"

"Daddy, I should watch with you. How else will I know what to do if they come here?"

Mom raised her head. "They won't come here. Will they, Bruce? Why don't they bomb them or something?"

"I don't know. Maybe too many of our people are being held captive. Anyway, they already have. It didn't work."

"It looked like those spider things were eating the people," Lyda said, taking another step inside. She hadn't actually seen anyone being eaten, and wasn't sure she wanted to in any case, but she had seen a few people being skewered by the thin silvery mandibles before Dad cut off the program.

"No, we don't think anyone is being eaten, Lyda baby." Dad tried to chuckle but it didn't come out like that. It was a gurgling sound Lyda had never heard him make before.

"Then what are they doing with them?"

Again her parents looked at each other rather than at her. Was something even more terrible happening to those people than being killed or maybe eaten later? What could be worse than that?


Dad sighed again. "Elaine, she may as well stay with us. We can always cut the picture if it gets too gruesome. And we need to tell her."

"Tell me what?" Curiosity was replacing her fright now. She felt her heart beat faster. Mom and Dad always tried to answer her questions and be honest with her, unlike the parents of some of her friends. They just didn't like her to be exposed to graphic violence or sex yet. They thought she was too young. Lyda always felt guilty when the subject came up. She had already seen plenty—little flash drives and printouts from books passed around from kid to kid; images on her cell phone; movies at her friends' homes that she wasn't allowed to watch in her own; graphic color prints that were sometimes freaky and gross but interesting all the same. She suspected that Dad, at least, knew she sometimes had access to things he would rather her not see, but he pretended that she didn't.

"The people you saw the spiders chasing aren't going to be eaten. They're being transferred to big camps out west. We've seen images from space."

Lyda took the last few steps to the couch and wormed her way in between the elder Brightners. She drew a grudging smile from both of them and this time it was she who sighed. Finally she was going to find out exactly what was happening!

* * *

Bruce Brightner thought about how much he should tell Lyda. He realized that both he and Elaine were perhaps a bit overprotective of their only child, but it was perfectly natural. She was a prodigy, absorbing knowledge almost effortlessly, but she was still an eleven year old girl, emotionally immature as yet, he thought, even though she had more sense than most girls her age. The other reason he kept a close watch on her was that she was beautiful; at least he thought she was. Her startlingly red hair fell in natural wavy curls to below her shoulders. She was bereft of the freckles that her mother was prone to, leaving her with an even-featured elfin face that would become regal and extremely attractive as she changed from a girl to a young woman.

"Sweetheart, all of earth has been invaded by beings from somewhere else. I guess from outer space is as good a description as any. We don't think those spider things are the actual aliens. They're simply mechanical constructs, being used to round up humans and perhaps for other purposes we don't know of yet."

"Did the spiders ruin all those buildings or did the aliens do it?" Lyda wanted to know.

"It wasn't them, it was us who caused most of the damage. We tried bombing them but bombs don't seem to harm them at all. They don't seem to care what we do unless we oppose them. It appears that it's live humans that they want."

"Bruce…" Elaine warned.

"Well, it's the truth. That's all they've done so far, simply used their mechanicals to round up enormous numbers of people from all over earth. Lyda, they herd them into cul-de-sacs like you just saw, then force them into flying machines. After that they're transported to other locations in bigger flying things. You'll see that soon if we keep watching."

"What happens then, Daddy?"

"She surely doesn't need to know any more right now, Bruce. Let it be."


"Besides, we don't really know much else, do we?"

"Actually, no. We can't see much of what's happening in the camps. So how about putting some frozen pizza on for supper? We can eat here."

"All right. You be careful now. Lyda doesn't need to see some of that stuff." Mrs. Brightner left the den.

Lyda cuddled closer to her Dad. "Can we watch some more, Daddy?"

Mr. Brightner zapped the picture and sound back on. The same vista was still being broadcast. This time she did see one of the flyers. It was simply a rounded, oblong shape with an oval entrance that irised open for shrieking men, women and children then closed with a blink when it was full or wanted to go elsewhere.

"Where is this happening, Daddy? Have they said?"

"This is Atlanta, I believe, but it really doesn't matter, baby. It's happening just like this everywhere in the world."

"Even in the country?"

Bruce realized he had said more than he intended to. "Well, yes, but not around here. Not yet, anyway. Let's not tell Mom I said that, okay?" Bruce Brightner knew that armies of the mechanicals were roaming almost every part of earth by now, always seeking out humans. What he hadn't told Lyda was that in many places huge numbers of bodies were turning up from people simply being killed after capture. No one knew why. What he did know was that he intended to protect his wife and daughter if he could.

Lyda smiled and nodded at Dad, barely hearing. Her eyes were tracking the scenes on the big screen with a fascination usually reserved for special programs on the learning channel, ones that dealt with how things worked or with astronomy and space flight. Already she had aspirations to become an astronaut; not a pilot but a science specialist. Her parents thought it might be a hero worship thing but Lyda knew it wasn't. Someday she would go into space and study the stars. Or she had intended to, before this happened.

On the screen, the view changed to the president. Lyda thought he was handsome, but kind of dumb. Dad said most politicians were dumb and even if they weren't, they had to act dumb to get elected. She didn't understand that, but she had little interest in politics to begin with. Nevertheless, Lyda remained quiet while the president was speaking because Dad appeared to be very interested in what he said at first. Soon though, his expression became disgusted.

"He's lying," Lyda's father said. "We're not in contact with the damn things. They don't want to negotiate." He switched to a local channel.

"Why is he lying, Daddy?" Lyda asked. She didn't understand that, either. Shouldn't the president always tell the truth?

"He's trying to reassure people, I guess, but that's not the way to do it."

The newswoman on the local channel looked very distraught. She read from a list rather than a teleprompter and it showed. "…supplies of food in the cities of Lufkin and Nacogdoches are to be rationed beginning Tuesday morning. Governor Prester has..."

"Shouldn't we be seeing about some extra food supplies?" Eileen Brightner asked as she came back into the den, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "We really don't have much here."

"You're probably right. I should have done that earlier. I'll go as soon as we finish eating."

Lyda looked to her Dad, her eyes pleading for permission to go along. Her unasked question became moot as the screen altered the view once again. It showed an oblong, dirigible looking shape stretched across both sides of the freeway separating Lufkin from Nacogdoches and spilling into the logged over woods on each side. It was huge. Emerging spider mechs looked like tiny bugs next to it. As they watched, several smaller flyers like the one she had seen earlier touched down along the sides of the big one and appeared to merge into it.

The local anchor began talking extemporaneously, doing a bad job of it. Her hands visibly shook. "…just in. One of the alien's larger transport craft has landed along Highway 59 between Lufkin and Nacogdoches. Many of the mechanical spiders of different sizes, like in…they have emerged and are marching…going in different ways, uh, directions, but the most of them appear to be trying, I mean heading, toward the cities, Lufkin and Nacogdoches, that is. They…littler flyers are uh, being absorbed, uh landing…on…"

The picture burst into static and tiny squares of distorted color, then the screen went blank. A window appeared, announcing that the satellite link had failed.

Lyda sat very still, pretending to be a rabbit again, hoping not to be ordered from the den while her father searched frantically among other channels for more information. Their home was located on a county road only a couple of miles off the corridor between the two east Texas cities. Many other channels were broadcasting the same signal, satellite link failure. Finally he gave up, grew thoughtful and found an old radio on one of the bookshelves. It wouldn't work—the batteries were dead. He used some words Lyda had very seldom heard him utter. "I'm going to find some batteries," he said. "Stay here, Lyda, hon."

Mom had sat down. She was staring at the big screen as if her intense gaze could repair the satellite link. It didn't.

"How long will it take the spiders to get here?" Lyda asked.

Her mother didn't answer. She simply stared. Lyda wondered if she had gone into shock.

From the bedroom next to the den, there came a noise Lyda had heard before, the unmistakable slack-slack of a round being chambered in Dad's shotgun that he used for duck hunting every year. Lyda didn't think a shotgun would be much use if bombs didn't work, but she didn't say that to Dad when he returned to the den, bearing the shotgun in a tight-knuckled grip.

"Daddy, how long until the spiders get here?" Lyda repeated her question to her father. Her mother still hadn't answered.

He shook his head as he began opening up the radio. "Maybe they won't come here," was all he said.

Lyda thought of that huge craft, obviously the kind Dad had been talking about. She remembered that it had only been three days since the invasion began and already many humans had been transported to the desert camps. The spiders probably moved fast, she thought. And they were coming here!

The spiderlike constructs did move quickly. Lyda had finished her share of the pizza, brushed her teeth and was waiting hopefully near the door as Dad picked his car keys off the hallway table, apparently deciding he needed to run an errand after all, probably over to the little store on the highway intersection. Lyda quickly shrugged into her windbreaker and flipflops, but before she could even begin to ask him to go along, a noise from outside distracted him. He hurried to the entrance and opened the door.

Lyda could see past her father, out into the front yard. At the edge of her vision, before the door jamb blocked it, she saw the leglike appendages of one of the spider things. Then the whole thing moved into view. It was much larger up close than it had looked on the screen, even when there had been humans visible for comparison. It glinted in the late morning sun like the outside paneling of the new building in downtown Lufkin, and just like the office building, it was mostly featureless and simply reflected light.

Dad slammed the door and saw her still standing behind him. "Go to your room!" He shouted. "Hide under the bed!"

Reluctantly, Lyda hurried away while Dad ran toward the den. She knew he was going for his shotgun. Before he even got there, the door crashed inward with a resounding noise like someone had dropped a tray full of dishes at a restaurant. Lyda whirled and saw something she recognized, the tips of two of the mandibles from one of the big spiders. It hooked in under the top of the doorframe and pulled up. A part of the front of the house peeled away with a loud ripping noise.

"Run!" Dad shouted at her. He had found his shotgun and was rushing toward the entrance, the weapon already pointed and ready to fire.

Lyda couldn't make herself move. She watched, mesmerized, as a bluish band of light sought out her father and engulfed him. He sparkled, like a cartoon character who was being electrocuted, then suddenly he was flung against the wall. His body spattered through the sheetrock and broke the two by four studs in the wall into jagged splinters. One of them gouged a hole in his throat that immediately began gushing bright red blood. Lyda never heard the shotgun fire, nor did she have time to think about it. She felt her mother's arms go around her in an attempt to drag her away just as she saw a smaller spider fill the entrance. A blue universe of pain engulfed her and tore at her senses like a ravenous virus. She tried to shout a cry of defiance and that was the last thing she remembered until she woke up in the desert.

Chapter Two

Lyda opened her eyes. She stood up on wobbly legs and looked around, squinting through frighteningly strong sunlight. In the distance, mountains grew from a brown landscape, solid and timeless, but nearby were two mutilated bodies. One of them had been a young woman. She was naked. Blood seeped from between her thighs. The other body was that of a man, sprawled out in an awkward position. His skull had been crushed and caved in above one of his eyes. The eye lay on his cheek like an obscene colored ball on a thick white string. She stared at the bodies for a moment, mesmerized by the surreal scene of horror. Then suddenly she felt sick inside at the grisly sight and averted her eyes quickly.

Beyond the bodies, men and women milled around, some gathered in throngs, some alone. Most of them wore dazed, frightened expressions, like the ones she had seen on some of the dogs when her class had toured an animal shelter, but like some of the dogs, a few were defiant and their faces and attitudes promised savage reprisal should a chance come their way. She saw a man dressed in dirty jeans squatting by a cactus. He had hacked off one of the flat pancake-like outgrowths and was trying to scrape the needles off it with the little file on a fingernail clipper, cursing as he did. Was he trying to get water from it, or planning on eating it?

Lyda thought of her parents. Where was Mom? She couldn't remember anything after she saw Dad being flung and crushed against the wall and that blue light engulfed her. Was Mom here? Or dead, like Dad? She was sure Dad was dead—she had seen how his throat was torn open by the broken studs in the wall. But she didn't know about Mom, nor did she know anyone to ask. She began walking slowly, looking around, trying to define her situation and trying not to cry. The ground of the desert was hot and gritty under her bare feet, not at all like she had imagined a desert would be. She thought she remembered slipping into her flip flops when she'd shrugged into her jacket, but if she had, they were lost now. Tiny stones gouged at the soles of her feet, bringing numerous little hurts. There didn't seem to be much of a landscape to see, other than the gritty dirt that passed as sand, larger rocks and even larger outcroppings of stone that rose from the desert floor like old shelters, petrified by time. Occasionally she passed tufts of greenish brown grass of some sort and more cacti, some very large and growing in clusters like flattened houses in a village. There were a few large bushes with spindly limbs and thin leaves but no trees anywhere.

And people. There were people as far as she could see, standing, sitting, lying on the ground. She thought some of them must be dead simply by the way they lay unmoving with limbs twisted under them or flung out in unnatural positions. There were other children among them, some being held by adults; others were free to move about under the watchful eyes of their guardians, but there were many who looked to be as lost and vulnerable as herself. The people were dressed in everything from suits to borrowed shirts tied around the waist by some who must have been caught naked. Lyda was glad she had her clothes on. She spotted several men and women who wore no garments at all. They looked entirely different from the nude bodies she had seen in the material passed around by the kids at school, as if someone had hosed them down and washed part of their color away. She wondered why that was.

At first Lyda wasn't really fearful. She was sorrowful about Dad and worried about Mom, but the abruptness of her abduction made the memory seem more like a dream, something not real. But beyond that, she was confused—and curious. How did she get here without remembering? How long had it taken? What was going to happen next? Was there water and food to be found? Why were the awful spider things bringing their captives here to this desolate waste? In the distance she saw one of the giant transport craft descend and land as silently as clouds bumping together. She wondered how it was powered. It couldn't be a rocket, could it? There was no noise. As she walked, some men or women glanced at her but most ignored her as if they had too many problems of their own to care about an eleven year old girl walking around by herself.

When Lyda grew thirsty, she decided to ask someone about water. She picked a gray haired woman who resembled grandma, though she wasn't dressed as nicely as grandma always was.

"Ma'am, do you know where I can find some water?" Lyda asked the old woman politely.

"Girl, you need a protector to get water around here. Where's your folks?"

"I…I don't know," Lyda told her. She didn't want to tell anyone that Dad was almost certainly dead and that Mom…well, she had been trying to protect her, too.

"Then you better find someone quick, lest you…ah shit, leave me alone." The woman covered her face with her hands and began sobbing.

Lyda went closer, wanting to comfort the old woman but she was shrugged off, then pushed forcefully away when she tried again. Puzzled, Lyda left her alone and began wandering again. What was a protector? Well, probably someone like a parent, she thought. But how do you find one?

One found her, one who had watched and listened, a tall grungy man in his forties with a two day beard and a gleam of desperation in his eyes. He was wearing the remnants of a suit and had a sweat-stained tee shirt wound around and over his scalp to protect his bald head from the sun.

"Hey girl!"

Lyda turned toward the voice. Before she could back away, she found herself being gripped by the upper arm.

"I can get you some water, girl. What's your name?"

Lyda didn't answer. She didn't like his looks. She glanced around, looking for help. The few nearby adults turned away. One man started toward them but stopped when he saw the grungy man show a large pocket knife with the blade open. He turned away.

"Come on girl. We'll both get some water."

"I don't want to go with you," Lyda said, trying to wrench her arm away. That only made the man grip her tighter.

"What's your name, girl?" He repeated, squeezing her arm so hard it was painful.

"Lyda," she said reluctantly.

"Okay, Lyda. I'm Boris. Come on, let's go get some water. Maybe some food, too." He began walking, pulling her along by her arm. His long legged stride forced her into a half walk, half run in order to keep up. His breath was heavy and gasping, with a wheeze to it like his throat was dry, the same as the gritty desert sand. He led her for a half mile through and around small groups of people and halted beside a large outcropping of rock that provided shade for a scruffy looking gang of men and women.

A big dark haired man stepped forward, holding a sharp pointed rock in his fist. He also wore a two day beard, perhaps three days. "What we got here?" he asked. His question was asked in a pleasant tone of voice that contrasted with his feral appearance. He reminded Lyda of Wolverines she had read about, only bigger.

"Something to trade," Boris said deferentially to the big man. Now he was holding Lyda by both arms, forcing her to stand in front of him.



Savage Survival Copyright © 2005. Darrell Bain. All rights reserved by the author. Please do not copy without permission.




Author Bio

Darrell Bain is the author of more than three dozen books, in many genres, running the gamut from humor to mystery and science fiction to humorous non-fiction. For the last several years he has concentrated on humor and science fiction, both short fiction, and suspense thrillers.

Darrell served thirteen years in the military as a medic and his two years in Vietnam formed the basis for his first published novel, Medics Wild. Darrell has been writing off and on all his life but really got serious about it only after the advent of computers. He purchased his first one in 1989 and has been writing furiously ever since.

While Darrell was working as a lab manager at a hospital in Texas, he met his wife Betty. He trapped her under a mistletoe sprig and they were married a year later. Darrell and Betty owned and operated a Christmas tree farm in East Texas for many years. It became the subject and backdrop for some of his humorous stories and books.

TTB titles:
Alien Infection
Doggie Biscuit!
Hotline to Heaven
Laughing All the Way
Life on Santa Claus Lane
Medics Wild
Robyn's Rock, collection of short stories
Rogue Program, sequel to Savage Survival
Samantha's Talent with Robyn Pass
Savage Survival
Shadow Worlds with Barbara M. Hodges
Space Trails
Strange Valley
Tales from a Christmas Tree Farm
The Focus Factor with Gerald Mills
The Melanin Apocalypse
Warp Point

Human By Choice with Travis 'Doc' Taylor. Book 1 Cresperian series.
The Y Factor with Stephanie Osborn. Book 2 Cresperian series
The Cresperian Alliance with Stephanie Osborn. Book 3 Cresperian series.

Post War Dinosaur Blues - Book 1 of the Williard Bros. Series
Bigfoot Crazy - Book 2 of the Williard Bros. Series

Author web site.






"Savage Survival is more than a story of survival, it's a cautionary tale that blows open the standard concepts of strength and power. Lyda is an amazing heroine, one whose strength lies in her ability to adapt and a personal sense of honor she refuses to compromise. Darrell Bain has written a truly fascinating story, one that will stay with the reader long after the book is closed. I highly recommend Savage Survival to anyone looking for a book that has it all-a fast and furious plot, powerful characters and a message as frightening as it is empowering."
Kate Douglas, author of Wolf Tales.

5 Talismans (Highest rating)

I have been an avid reader for quite some time. I have read too many books to count over the years covering a variety of genres. Through my literary travels the list of novels which have made me say, "Wow, that was something special", is relatively short. Frank Herbert's Dune, Terry Brooks' The Elfstones of Shannara, and George R.R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire are all at the top of that list. After reading Darrell Bain's novel Savage Survival however, I think that list has grown a little longer.

When Earth is invaded by an unknown alien race, eleven year old Lyda Brightner finds herself swept up in the destructive wake. With her father dead and mother missing, Lyda awakens in a concentration camp somewhere in a desert in the southwest United States. Within hours, she is horribly abused by a man who then in turn tries to sell her into slavery.

After managing to escape, Lyda discovers an inner strength which helps her retake control of her life, and puts her on a path of self discovery. Deciding the only way to defeat those who would hurt her and those she comes to protect, is by meeting them head on, Lyda quickly finds herself the leader of several like minded survivors. The aliens however, have different plans. The human survivors are put through test after test so that only the humans with the strongest minds will make it through each trial. Along the way Lyda and the other human refugees learn they are changing.

Their minds are sharper and their bodies are stronger. With each trial the changes become more evident. Lyda uses these "gifts" to protect the people who choose to follow her, and also to discover love as well as learn what true leadership is all about. Savage Survival is truly a masterful piece of science fiction writing. Darrell Bain uses an alien invasion of Earth as a backdrop to tell not only a coming of age story but also to spark deep thought concerning society as a whole. His character Lyda Brightner is as memorable of a character as you can get. I sincerely hope there are more tales of her exploits coming in the near future.

Darrell Bain's Savage Survival is definitely what is right about the science fiction genre. I believe this is as close to a must read as you can get. With an intricate plot, vivid imagination, and one of the most memorable characters I have run across in a long time, Savage Survival will leave readers with that same "wow" feeling I received.
Reviewed by Shawn Oetzel for
Tales of the Talisman.

"Savage Survival by Darrell Bain. Darrell grew up loving to read what we would call classic science fiction, and he writes in the tradition of the masters. But of all the Bain titles I've read, and there have been quite a few, this is the first time I've seen his take on a good old fashioned alien invasion. Well, not exactly "good old fashioned," since this is Darrell we're talking about. The tradition of the masters includes writing something never seen before, which can be easy to forget in this jaded century. Darrell's still writing things we haven't seen before. I'm impressed. You will be too."
Michael Larocca, author of An American Redneck in Hong Kong, Vigilante Justice and Chronicles of a Madman.




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