Short science fiction and
fantasy stories that, more often than not, end with a
surprise or twist you couldn’t see coming. Transport
yourself to other lives and other worlds where travel
through time and space is a reality and where second chances
and the end of the world sometimes cross paths. It’s a
detour into the unknown filled with wonder and excitement
beyond reality, and yet close enough, to make you second
Stories filled with amazing tales
of Time travel, outer space, adventure, and murder are all subjects
you'll find in the new book by Jack Legend that stretches your
imagination to new heights.
Jack Legend is a
writer of science fiction that favors a classic bend
toward time travel, thrillers, and outer space dramas.
Jack's 1st legendary
science fiction novel is on its way featuring amazing
science fiction short stories that will blow you away.
Tentatively entitled, "
Sci-Fi with a Twist" . Look for it at
Order the book at Amazon
Sci-Fi with a Twist Story List
The Fastest Gun Alive - A writer finds himself in
his own story as his own wild west character. Can he survive long
enough to get back home?
It was hotter than hades that
summer, back in 1886, in a small, but busy, western town named Lobo.
A lot of famous gunfighters made their way through Lobo at one time
or the other, but the majority of the visitors Lobo got were unruly
cattlemen that liked to get drunk and shoot up the town for fun on
It was a relatively peaceful day when he rode into town. You could
tell he was an experienced gunfighter just by looking at him. His
eyes squinted, but not just from the sun. It was as if they were
trained to focus in on the smallest detail. He wore two six-guns and
carried a rifle on his saddle. He was a thin muscular man. You could
just tell by looking at him that he was quick as hell and more
dangerous than a rattlesnake. The horse he rode on was black, with a
white streak of lightning down his forehead.
The townsfolk all stopped and stared as he rode into town, as if
they were looking at a force of nature. There wasn’t any doubt he
was there to kill, but the question was…was he there to kill
somebody that deserved it, or was it just for pleasure.
“He got off his horse right at the saloon, and walked in and that’s
all I’ve got so far.”
“Well, what is he there for, Harold?” asked Mary, Harold’s wife, as
she drove her Toyota into town while Harold nervously fidgeted back
and forth in his seat.
“I think he’s a bounty hunter, yeah, he’s a bounty hunter,” said
“Ok, so he’s just in town to collect a bounty? Where’s the conflict,
Harold? I think he needs a personal reason above just money.
“Yes, but dear, every western hero is out for revenge. I mean, it’s
been done to death.”
“True, but just shooting the bad guy for money isn’t going to pull
the reader into the story, Harold.”
“You’re right, of course.”
“Was there ever any doubt?”
“Never. You know, honey, I’ve been writing these westerns for so
long, sometimes I feel like I belong back there…”
“Harold, you’ve never even been out west, and if you mean back in
the old west, you’d never survive.”
“Mary, what a thing to say.”
“I don’t mean to imply you’re not the most manly man of all time,
Harold, it’s just that…”
“It’s just what, Mary?”
“Well, back then, they didn’t have television, for instance. That
alone would be your death sentence.”
“Yes, yes, I know. There was no electricity, no heat and air, no
running water, all the things we take for granted today, but, Mary,
there weren’t any so-called ‘safe places’ for college students
either. There was no 24 hour news coverage of all the world’s
problems, no feeling of being tied down, on call every second of the
day…prisoner to a smart phone, or hopelessly trying to think of
witty things to post on social media to hopefully score some
validation for one’s existence.
“Yes, dear, but you get so cold in the winter. That alone…”
“I know, I know, I’m soft…just as soft as everyone else in this God
forsaken future world.”
“You mean present, Harold. It’s the present.”
“Yes, of course, but the past…it’s…”
“It’s what, Harold.”
“It’s…it’s so elusive. It’s real. It existed, and yet, it may as
well be nothing more than a product of my imagination. It’s just…we
can’t touch the past. It’s just an intangible idea, something to
forever dangle in front of a man like a carrot that can never be
reached. I mean, once it’s gone, history is…well…history.”
“Oh, Harold, is the present so bad, really?”
Harold’s eyes practically rolled out of his head. “Mary, our country
is filled with fat lazy people that do nothing but sit and stare at
screens all day. Gone, is the rugged individualism of yesteryear.
Back in the day, a man only needed a horse, a blanket, and a gun to
survive. His character was forged by his need to survive. He made it
by his wits, guts, and determination. Men have become sissies, Mary.
Modern man has been raised to be coddled and babied every step of
their miserable self-indulgent little lives.”
“But, at least you get to eat whenever you’re hungry.”
“And that’s why obesity has become such an epidemic. Gone are the
days when men had to hunt for food or ride for hours or days without
instant access to food. If he was lucky, the average cowboy had some
beans he could eat on the trail, or maybe he’d get a shot at wild
game here and there. Today we can have food delivered to our door or
be at a fast food restaurant in a matter of minutes, not to mention
all the sugar laden garbage we hoard in our cupboards.”
“I don’t like the getting fat, part, Harold, but starving to death
doesn’t sound like a lot of fun, either.”
“Maybe as a woman you just don’t get the need a man has to be
rugged, to face danger, and prove himself against the threat of
dangerous outlaws, wild animals, and the forces of nature. If I
could just once…”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just a crazy dream of mine.”
“Come on, Harold.”
“Oh, it’s just sometimes I dream that I’m actually there. I’m one of
my own western characters. It’s just marvelous, but then I wake up
in this miserable world once again.”
“But, you wake up next to me.”
“Oh, sorry dear. You’re in my dreams too, of course.”
“What? Am I Miss Kitty?” asked Mary.
“You play different roles.”
“Let me guess, you ride in on a white horse and save me from the
dreaded crooked cattleman who wants to steal my daddy’s ranch?”
“Something, like that,” said Harold with a smile.
The two arrived at their destination…their weekly shopping trip,
where modern man hunts and gathers his food, otherwise known as the
supermarket, but the conversation was not forgotten by Harold.
A week went by and Harold was still imagining a world where men rode
on horses instead of in cars, where men were men, and women were
women…a world where only the bravest of men could survive…a world
where a man answered to no one…no income tax, no health insurance
penalties, no rules and regulations to tie a man down or get him
into trouble, other than thou shalt not kill or thou shalt not
steal. It was a world where the law was simple and unrestrained by
political correctness and massive government regulation…a world
where men could still defend themselves and not be sent to jail or
face penalties worse than his attackers. Harold thought of all this
as he sat down to write about the man on the black horse again…the
man without fear…the fastest gun alive.
“Harold, would you like some tea, dear?” asked Mary from the
“Harold!” she called again, but no answer. “He must be asleep. How
he falls asleep at his desk so easily, I’ll never know.”
Harold awakened as if from a dream. His face was firmly planted into
the harsh dry dusty floor of the city of Lobo. He picked himself up
off the ground. He instantly felt the oppressive heat above from the
unforgiving sun and the taste of dust in his mouth. It was if he had
just been stuck into a gigantic dryer.
Harold looked down at his feet. He had never worn cowboy boots in
his life, and yet there they were, dust covered boots. He put his
hands on his sides and felt two six-guns. On his head was a white
cowboy hat which was also something else he had never worn before,
unless you counted the plastic cowboy hat he wore as a child. It was
part of his cowboy ensemble that complimented the cap guns his
father gave him for Christmas one year.
He turned to his right, and there he saw the magnificent black
stallion, with a streak of white lightning running down his
forehead, that had previously only existed in his own imagination.
He stood there as the noon day train roared into town and watched as
ten men walked off that train, each one looking meaner than the
next, armed, of course, and with an icy stare directed toward Harold
that said, “I’ve killed many a man in my day, and you’re next.”
As they walked on, the entire scenario had not fully been absorbed
into Harold’s conscious mind. After he came to himself a few minutes
later, all he could think of was, “What the hell just happened?
Sci-Fi with a
Twist Story List