Chapter 10
Ex-FBI agent Dylan Greer sat straight in his chair, his eyes flint colored like his bushy eyebrows and thin mustache, and in striking contrast to his snow-white hair. Even though he’d been retired for two years, he still wore the dark suit and conservative tie and scribbled everything down in a small notebook. Yet he was nothing like any FBI agent Henry had ever met. He had an air of authority about him, a detached coolness that in the situation, struck Henry as unnatural. There was also something in the set of his jaw, his sardonic manner, which labeled him, more than anything, a rebel and a strong-minded man. A hint perhaps to why he left the agency to strike out on his own.
He’d been recommended, with high praise by someone Henry trusted, to be his second-in-command on the ICS Team. A man who could get things done, they’d said. A man with connections and old friends in the Bureau. A man with hidden talents. Only later would Henry recall that phrase and understand what they’d truly meant.
Unlike other federal agents Henry had known, Greer had long hair, even if it was combed straight back on his head. Must hairspray it like crazy to keep it so perfect, Henry mused as he ran his hand through his own shaggy mop before he could stop himself. The obsessive neatness of the retired FBI agent made him painfully aware of how he must appear, with his unruly hair, unshaven face and tattered, dirty clothes. He’d been awake all night bringing his team together, planning strategies, brooding over what he had to do, and hadn’t taken time to change or clean up after his flight through the night woods.
Agent Greer’s associate, who he insisted be included on the team because of his experience, couldn’t have been more of an opposite. Scott Patterson, who’d served with Greer, was a pudgy man in an ill-fitting brown suit; taller than his friend, and the most fidgety, nervous-acting man Henry had ever met. His large hands couldn’t seem to hold on to a pen for the life of him, nor could they stop tapping across things on the desk. Patterson had a broad, eager-to-please face, a crew-cut, and brown puppy-dog eyes that reminded Henry of an Irish Setter he’d had as a boy. That dog, lovable as he’d been, had been stupid. Henry hoped Patterson would turn out to be smarter. He needed good people on his team. People’s lives could depend on it.
Henry lounged in his chair, across a table covered with Styrofoam cups and overflowing ashtrays, half-asleep, and observed the odd pair in action. He’d marveled at how quickly they’d arrived, barely hours after the phone calls. The Forest Service had made contact and flown them in. Since then he’d been briefing them on the situation.
Not that Greer or Patterson believed the story of a real live dinosaur, hungry and on the prowl in the park. They didn’t, of course. Henry could tell by the incredulous glances between them as they asked their questions and wrote down the bizarre answers, shaking their heads all the while.
So far it was a joke to them. Henry couldn’t wait until the first time they bumped into the park’s giant predator. Wouldn’t that leave them laughing.
More of his team were on their way. The Forest Service had called in an aquatic biologist, Jim Francis, and his partner, Mark Lassen, an oceanographer; both retired Navy, who were bringing a one-man sub to search the lake’s depths for the creature if they needed to. Francis and Lassen would arrive sometime the following day.
Henry chose Justin as the team’s paleontologist, though he suspected Harris would kill to get on it so he could try to protect the monster. Wouldn’t do him any good. Henry wanted Justin.
So far Greer and Patterson were the first arrivals. Justin was having the ribs he was afraid he’d broken in their car crash checked out. One of the other rangers had taken him to the hospital in town for x-rays. And Henry had never left.
Outside the window the sun was rising. Another day. The world was still there. He was still there. But there were some who no longer were and it made him feel blessed, guilty and frightened.
Henry spotted his friend George chatting to another ranger by the door. He’d also picked him for his team, the best outdoorsman and tracker he knew. George caught Henry’s eye and tipped his hat. Henry saluted back. As suited the occasion, George’s expression was solemn.
Henry now had six men on his team. Those six plus his other four rangers could probably handle anything, including this monster predicament. Besides, ten men were all he was going to get and he was lucky to have them.
In the meantime, the creature had apparently crept back to its lair and the birds were singing in the blue skies. As had happened that night on the lake when Justin and he had first come into contact with the monster, the horror of the night before seemed an unreal nightmare. But Henry knew it wasn’t and his mind kept replaying bits and pieces of it, a DVR stuck in reverse-replay, reverse-replay, over and over. Usually the same two worn spots to catch on: that woman reporter and her last seconds on earth when he’d been so desperate to save her, but couldn’t, or when the creature surprised them in the middle of the road before their daring jeep flight into the velvet black woods. How had it gotten ahead of them so quickly?
He focused on the jeep, to keep from thinking about the monster’s unexpected cunning. The vehicle was most likely totaled. It’d been in excellent shape for its age and paid for. He’d kept it immaculate. The insurance would never cover what it’d been worth to him. He consoled himself that they’d walked away from the crash without serious injuries; were both lucky to be alive and not in the creature’s stomach. He was grateful for that.
Soon he’d take the others to the scenes of the crimes, the dig and the reporters’ camp, to glean any clues from what was left. Henry didn’t really want to go, but he was in charge and it was his job.
Dr. Harris would accompany them to the dig. It’d been his encampment and his people, after all. He’d been there when his comrades and friends had been mauled and eaten alive. Had seen their nemesis face to face and experienced its vicious destructiveness. According to him he’d escaped by the skin of his teeth. More like the skin of his backside as he was running away.
So how could Harris promote ensnaring and sheltering that monster? Anger boiled beneath Henry’s skin. Harris had no idea what he was asking for. If Henry was any other sort of man, he’d step aside and let Harris and his sycophants have their way. But he couldn’t. It was his park, his job, his very way of life at stake. And as sure as men and women had already died by the jaws of that flesh-eating carnivore, Henry knew attempting to capture the thing would only result in more carnage. No beast, no matter how rare, was worth the loss of so many human lives.
He shifted in his chair, grousing under his breath, as he answered Greer’s endless questions. His body ached from the crash landing and his eyes burned from cigarette smoke and no sleep. Yet he didn’t feel as bad as he should have. He was coasting on the adrenaline surge. It’d catch up to him sooner or later.
Greer was thorough and had a no-nonsense interrogation manner. Henry had to give him that. It was easy to see he was used to being in command. That could be a problem. Everyone on the team would be equals, with the power of the final decision resting with Henry.
Gazing over at Greer’s stone face or Patterson’s mocking eyes Henry wished he was home with Ann sleeping peacefully in their bed and none of this was happening.
But Ann and Laura were at Zeke’s and he was here. So was the monster.
This was no time for daydreaming. He needed his wits about him, and the help of these men before him, to find and exterminate the park’s little problem.
“You have any idea where your friend Godzilla might be now?” Patterson’s question seemed amiable but Henry caught a whiff of thinly veiled contempt.
Henry smiled. Hadn’t he called the beast that once himself, as if it was a joke? Patterson was a non-believer, not that he blamed him. In the beginning he hadn’t believed, either.
“Not really. The Paleontologist on our team, Dr. Justin Maltin, speculates it might live somewhere down in the subterranean caves and tunnels below the lake. But that’s only a theory.”
&
nbsp; “That it lives in the caves and tunnels below a long dead volcano? In a lake that has no other channels to another body of water, that you know of, anyway?”
“Caves and tunnels created thousands of years ago by lava flows. And, yes, no other outlets…that we know of.”
“Oh, I see.” Yet it didn’t seem as if the man did. There was an annoying ridicule in his expression. Henry had known a lot of law enforcement types in his career. They were good at procedures, details, investigations, and crime, but not much else. Most of them weren’t open to the unnatural or the fantastic. Cardboard people with Mister Potato Head brains. Henry hoped Patterson and Greer wouldn’t turn out to be of that breed. He needed men with open minds.
Or the creature would defeat them.
George Redcrow moseyed over and reported the park had been effectively emptied, except for them. Some of the park workers were still in the dormitories packing, and a few older residents who had nowhere else to go were still refusing to go. In the meantime, George had ordered the park’s perimeters patrolled and guarded to keep reporters and other people out.
Once more Henry wished he had more help. The park was vast.
“Why do you think Godzilla is attacking and killing humans now?” Patterson questioned, watching Henry as if he were an outpatient from a psychiatric ward. “Why has it left the water?”
“I closed down the lake area when the first boats and their captains came up missing. Took away its food supply. It’s hungry, so it comes out of the lake looking for more food. Maybe it’s depleted the fish supply in its hunting ground, or the warming water has killed them off. I don’t know. Now that we’ve evacuated the park, I’m afraid it’s going to increase its hunting perimeters.”
“Sounds as if there’s no way to contain it, other than to seek it out and destroy it,” Greer spoke up. “Especially if it’s developed a taste for human flesh.”
Well, I’ll be, Henry thought with mild surprise, a man who gets right to the heart of the matter. Hmm, we’re going to get along just fine, after all.
“How long has this creature been giving you problems?” Greer asked.
“It began killing animals a few weeks ago and people soon after. But there were unofficial sightings of it going back to last year. In the water.”
“And you didn’t alert the authorities until just recently?” Greer’s dark eyebrows rose, as he leaned towards Henry and gave him an intent stare.
“It never bothered anyone at first. Just swam around and minded its own business. Then a boat and its captain disappears one day, body never recovered, then another boat and another. Suddenly all hell breaks loose, and Godzilla, as your partner there has christened it, is chasing and taking bites of people all over the place. Obviously we’re the tastiest thing on its food list right now and, for its growing size, the most filling. Easy to catch, too.” Henry’s smile was weary.
Greer didn’t return the smile. Henry couldn’t figure him out. In some ways, Greer reminded him of his friend, George. Unreadable.
Henry shut his eyes. Starving and exhausted, he craved a hot meal, a gallon of coffee and about twelve hours of sleep in a warm bed. It’d be easier to cope with everything if he’d gotten those things first. His mind was wrapped in cotton candy.
“I’ve talked to Professor Harris over there,” Greer’s voice was hypnotically soft. “He maintains the creature isn’t all that smart and it was acting out of pure animal instinct, but you believe it’s extremely clever, don’t you? That it can actually think ahead and plan?”
Henry stared at Greer. “Before last night I might have agreed with the good Doctor Harris that the creature was merely a dumb, hungry beast…but not now. Not after the way it behaved. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. It out-thought us and was always one step ahead. Unbelievable how smart it was. Now,” Henry slid a sideways glance towards where Harris was holding court across the room, “that’s my opinion, and I’m no dinosaur authority. I’m just an ex-cop and a forest ranger.”
Henry stood up to his full six-four and bent over, bringing his hands to rest on the edges of the table as he looked down at Greer and Patterson. “All I know is that monstrous anachronism refused to be sidetracked by our bullets or distracted by the noise my friend, Justin, and I made, and ate that woman reporter right in front of us. To get at us it took a short-cut and got somewhere on the road in front of us. Was waiting for us. Trapped us. Now, I don’t care what anyone else says, that’s smart.”
Greer lifted his head, lowered his eyes, as if he were thinking something over, but didn’t respond.
Henry had had enough of talk. They could sit and talk until the cows came home and it wouldn’t change what had to be done.
“I’ve had a hell of a night. So before I fall asleep on my feet, Mr. Greer and Mr. Patterson, let’s get a move on. I’ll show you where the damage was done so you can see for yourself. Then I’m going to steal a break, get some food and some much needed rest before we do anything else. By then, the remainder of our team should be here.”
“Okay.” Greer shut his notebook, slid it into his suit coat’s inside vest pocket next to the antique watch on a chain, and stood up, too. He came to Henry’s shoulder. “I have a quick phone call to make first and I’ll be with you. Then we’ll do it.”
Henry tipped his head and Greer marched away.
“Why did he come?” Henry asked Patterson. “He doesn’t seem happy to be here.”
“Well, let’s say he has special talents. Over the years in the Bureau he acquired a reputation for the unusual cases. The unexplained spooky stuff, if you know what I mean.” Patterson pursed his lips and refused to divulge anything else about his friend.
Greer was like George. Enigmatic. “You mean cases involving things like UFO’s? That kind of stuff? Like Fox Mulder on the X-Files or on Fringe?” Henry voiced with a nervous grin.
“Sort of. He’ll tell you about it when it’s time. I can’t speak for him. All I can tell you is he can see, accept things most people can’t. He brings a different perspective to his cases.”
Oh, great, Henry mulled tiredly, I have a spook seer on my team. No wonder Greer was ex-FBI. The Bureau frowned on people who could see things others couldn’t. At least, Greer would be more open to believing in lake monsters than the normal man.
“I’ll tell you another thing, Chief Ranger, if I had to choose one man to guard my back in any situation, I’d pick Greer. He’s a remarkable individual. A quick thinker and cool under pressure. You’ll see.”
It was all Patterson was able to say because Greer rejoined them and they accompanied Henry to the door.
Dr. Harris appeared out of nowhere, pale and frantic-eyed, and attached himself to the group like a parasite.
“I heard you’re going up there. Of course I’m coming with you. I have to see what’s left at the site, if any of the equipment can be salvaged. John Day wants a detailed account of what has been lost. Perhaps there are footprints we can get impressions of or some other proof of the dinosaur’s existence lying about the campsite. The newspapers and scientific journals are crying for pictures. Any evidence at all.”
Henry felt disgust. Harris didn’t want to see if anyone had survived, were perhaps hiding, wounded, in the brush somewhere. He only wanted proof the dinosaur existed. The image of the reporter’s camcorder plagued Henry. He’d have to retrieve it. No way, if he could help it, was Harris going to get his hands on that video and profit from those poor people’s deaths.
Henry halted before the door, Greer and Patterson observing, and glared at Harris. He didn’t like the man. He didn’t like him at all. He seemed the mad professor, his clothes stained and rumpled, his face etched with a fanaticism that only made his wild eyes look wilder. What hair he had around the bald spot was going every which way like one of those troll doll’s his daughter had loved so much as a kid.
Harris turned his attention to Patterson and Greer and was zealously attempting to convince them they mustn’t hurt the creature, bu
t capture and safeguard it for humanity.
“Yeah,” Greer quipped with a perfectly straight face, “you can feed it with spare body parts and teach it to do cute tricks for the people. Until it breaks out of the cage and eats them.” He slipped out the door without a glance back.
As Harris stood there with open mouth, Henry chuckled. The sarcasm had gone over the doctor’s head. Zealots had one track minds and no sense of humor.
But in the end, Harris joined them. As Henry thought he should, if for no other reason than to remind the man how vicious the beast had been.
George was outside waiting behind the wheel of one of the park’s four-wheel drive vehicles. The five of them crammed into it. Henry propped himself in the front with George, and fought to stay awake. In the rear, Harris rattled on endlessly about how fantastic discovering a live dinosaur was and all the plans he had for it. What the world would say when they learned of it. Saw it. Henry wanted to reach back and knock him on his troll head, or, at least, kick him. Must be lack of sleep, he told himself. He wasn’t usually vindictive.
Henry had George drive them to the remnants of the reporter’s camp first and he walked and talked the group through a brief scenario of what had occurred there the night before, his stomach queasy the whole time. But he wanted Redcrow and Greer to know everything. He recounted how Justin and he had vainly fought to save the woman reporter and described the way the monster had behaved. The blood stained rocks around them illustrated the horror. He couldn’t let the others see him as weak and tried not to let the memories get to him. It wasn’t easy.
The others spread out and began their investigation by stuffing bits and pieces of material and flesh into plastic bags. Henry tried not to look. He didn’t want to look.
Then they visited what was left of the paleontological camp site.
They found no traces of anyone, dead or alive, though the men shouted for survivors to show themselves. No one responded. Trash skittered across the earth, bits and pieces of the place and the people that had once been there, but were no more. A section of a wrecked RV lay on its side, gleaming in the sunlight. The creature had demolished most of the tents and campers and there was twisted metal everywhere. Personal belongings were strewn along the ground as if a hurricane had vandalized the site. Empty soda cans stuck in the dirt. The meticulously plaster-packed bundles of fossils were smashed to flattened lumps of white powder and the neatly cultivated mound of bones was trampled.
Henry returned to the vehicle after the initial scouting, and slumped against the fender as his men combed what was left of the dig. Harris darted around like a maniac raving about the damage and the money it’d take to replace everything; how many fossils had been destroyed. Not a tear for his dead and missing comrades.
Henry’s eyes took in the mess, heartsick. It looked worse in the daylight. The stench of blood and fear was a pall hanging over everything.
Patterson sent up a yell when he discovered the body.
Henry strode heavy-legged towards the shouting. He knew what the mutilated body would look like, so wasn’t as shocked as the others when he saw the bloody corpse. Patterson’s face had gone a funny shade, but Greer wasn’t affected by the half-eaten carcass. Obviously, he’d seen mauled bodies before.
“You have any idea who this is…was?” Henry asked Harris.
Harris barely looked at the thing. “No idea at all. It’s too mangled. Sorry. Could be Lawrence Sanders or Earl McCarthy. They’re both missing. I’m not sure.”
The entire time they dealt with wrapping up the body for later retrieval, Dr. Harris continued to avidly lobby for preservation of the monster. He drooled over every claw impression and every sign the monster had left behind, no matter how small.
As Patterson and Redcrow did some final scouting, Henry sat in the car, closed his eyelids and listened to the familiar and comfortable noises of the one place in the world where he’d been happy for the first time in his life since childhood. Now nothing would ever be the same. Not unless they got rid of the intruder.
“So what do you think, Ranger Shore? You believe the creature that chased you and your friend, demolished this place, and killed those people, will be back?” Greer had snuck up and was eying him through the car’s window, his fingers caressing the chain to his watch. The notebook nowhere in sight. Henry took one look at the man’s face and knew Greer felt as he did. Mass devastation, missing people, and mutilated dead bodies were not good.
“That’s a foolish question, Greer.”
Greer waited.
“Of course it’s going to come back. It’ll come for food,” Henry snapped bluntly. “Like any predator that has no fear of its prey, or of anything.” The sun shone in his eyes and he lifted a hand up to shade them. “The monster isn’t out to get us, Greer. It isn’t evil or anything like that. It’s just hungry, that’s all. And, like our cattle, it sees us as its food. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Except this predator isn’t like anything you’ve ever come up against, is it, Shore? It’s huge and it’s crafty and it eats people. It enjoys it. That’s what makes it so dangerous. You don’t consider that evil? You don’t believe there are entities in this world that are pure evil, do you?” Greer’s tone had changed and it gave Henry a spooky feeling.
“Not really. I’m a realist, after all. In nature, nothing’s truly evil. Predators hunt and feed on prey to survive. That’s life.”
“I think you’re wrong. There is evil in the world. Yes, even in nature. The trick is recognizing it when you see it. Because the creatures touched with evil cannot be salvaged, they must be destroyed at all costs, no matter how unique or valuable they are.”
Henry met the other man’s eyes and wondered exactly what he was trying to tell him. That animals could be evil and if they were they had to be killed? Strange belief.
“And we can’t count on it to come out only at night anymore, can we?”
“No.” Henry sighed. “It knows by now we can’t hurt it. We don’t scare it. It’s learning new tricks. Coming out in the daytime, if it’s hungry and desperate enough, could be the next one. Scavenging further afield, widening its territory. It’s coming into its own. Growing bigger and smarter. We have to be prepared for that.”
Henry’s gaze swept past Greer’s shoulders to the woods beyond.
“It could be out there watching us at this very moment,” Greer spoke Henry’s fears aloud. “A scary thought.”
“Very. Especially if Godzilla’s hungry again. We’d both make yummy appetizers.”
Greer broke out a grin for the first time. So the man could smile. “Here’s something else to be afraid of. As soon as it gets out that those newspaper reporters were eaten by a prehistoric beast, the Inquirer and every other gossip rag in the country will be sending out a flock more of them reporters to find out what really happened. They’ll be sneaking in left and right like rats scenting fresh carrion. You said there were miles of back roads and paths into the park and that anyone, if they really wanted to, could get in.”
“True. We don’t have enough men to guard every back road.”
“A battalion of armed men won’t be able to keep out the reporters and television crews we’re going to have out here. It’ll be a free-for-all. The beast will have plenty of fresh prey. So, the way I see it, we don’t have much time to take care of this problem.”
Henry leveled his eyes at the man framed in the sunlight.
“And we’re wasting it,” Greer finished.
“You know, you’re right. We’ll discuss this further at a later time.”
Greer smiled again. “I’ll be there.”
“Are we about done here? I need to wash the stink of death off me and go into town, that’s where my wife and daughter are. Then go home, get some food and rest.”
“We’re done, Shore. But I’d like to hang around a bit longer with Patterson and your ranger, Redcrow, to wrap up a few loose ends.”
“Good. I’ll send Redcrow back after he drops
Dr. Harris and I off at headquarters. He’ll drive you anywhere else you want to go.”
“Thanks.”
Henry’s eyelids were as heavy as lead. The surrounding scenery appeared fuzzy and unreal. He kept hearing the monster’s growl on the breezes. Boy, did he need sleep.
“Shore, I want you to know, I think you were a brave man, trying to help that woman reporter, whether you succeeded or not. It took courage. You must have been a damn fine police officer.”
“Thanks, but I did what anyone would have done, or thought they would have done. Someone needed help and I tried to help, that’s all. Only wish I could have succeeded.”
“You know, the Governor wants us to capture alive whatever is in the lake. If it is a prehistoric throwback, all the more reason not to harm it, he claims.”
“You called the Governor?” Henry experienced a hint of irritation.
“No, Harris did, but I happened to be nearby and he put me on the phone after him, demanding I listen to what the Governor had to say.”
Henry whispered an obscenity, his eyes stormy.
“The Governor wants us to take it alive. In fact, he insists.”
“And how many more innocent people will we have to lose,” Henry’s voice was sharp, “before he changes his mind, I wonder?”
Greer shrugged his shoulders. “Myself, I’ve always thought most politicians are clueless. They have too much damn money, don’t live in the real world and care more about publicity and what things look like than the people they’re supposed to represent. Just my opinion, mind you.”
“You’re going to get along great with my wife, Ann. She feels the same way about politicians, politics and the government.
“And what did you say to the Governor?” Henry had to know.
“Not much. I stalled. I knew nothing about the situation at the time and I never make a decision on anything until I know what I’ve gotten myself into.”
“And now?”
“Off the record, I say we find the thing and kill it, no matter what the Governor wants.”
“I agree, wholeheartedly, but rifles and guns don’t stop it and this creature isn’t something we want to play games with. Justin Maltin, that paleontologist I mentioned before, might have an idea of what kind of weapons would affect it. Won’t be small artillery, I’d wager.”
“Well, when he figures out what weapons will kill it I’ll make sure we acquire them. I have old friends at the Bureau who’ll help us.”
“Don’t forget, we’re going to need a mountain of luck, too, to find that thing before it kills again. Ask your friends at the Bureau where we can get some of that,” Henry added. “But now, I want to see my wife and catch some sleep before I drop. Won’t be of any use to anyone if I can’t think straight or keep my eyes open.”
“Can’t help you with that luck, but I’ll get back to work so you can do what you need to do,” Greer said, smoothing his hair, which didn’t look so neat any longer, off his forehead.
“I hope you know not to stay up here past dark?” Henry warned. “Not to be out in the woods at all after dark?”
“I know that. I’m no martyr.”
“We’ll meet at headquarters later tonight. I’ll call you.”
“I’ll be waiting for it, Ranger Shore.” Greer spun on his heels and rejoined the others.
Henry laid his head on the back of the seat, closed his eyes and didn’t open them again, even when George slid behind the wheel and asked him where he wanted to go.
“To Zeke’s first, my friend, to check up on Ann and then home,” Henry muttered and promptly fell asleep to dream the monster caught him and ate him–in one gulp.
Dinosaur Lake Page 24