by C K Burch
“Cairn!” he called. “Need an assist.”
The boy eagerly trotted over, and Dust climbed atop the fallen log. He reached down and hoisted Cairn up beside him, then he pointed up. “I'm going to lift you so that you can pull yourself up to that branch, and then I'll need you to cinch the hook onto the cable. You game?”
Cairn gave Dust a mock salute.
“Fantastic.” He knelt and laced his fingers into a cup, and Cairn quickly stepped onto his palms. Then Dust steadied himself and lifted the lad up towards the branch. Cairn was as light as a feather, and it took little effort. The boy quickly hopped from Dust's grasp and up onto the high branch, scrambling up like a thin primate. This course of action was getting easier by the minute.
Thomas, meanwhile, shifted uneasily where he stood, and he placed his hands on his hips. “I say, will this be a moment, or what?”
“Yeah, it will,” Dust retorted with some irritation. Out here in the jungle, he felt less inclination to give the “Lord” his due respect, particularly now faced with a primordial jungle and whatever lay within it.
“Look, I've got to find a bush, then.” Thomas turned in place, deciphering which was the best way to enter the green and locate a decent spot.
“Just do it by the side of the road, no one cares right now,” Dust blandly directed.
Thomas scoffed. “I dare say that wouldn't be befitting of a man of my title. I'll have a bit of privacy for my endeavor.”
Jack frowned. “You what?”
Thomas threw up his hands. “A piss, Sissie, I need to take a piss.” He shook his head and stomped off into the overgrowth, fading from sight and making quite a noise as he went. At least he'd be easy to track if need be.
Jack, however, paled and froze in place. “He shouldn't go out there.”
Dust watched as Cairn hooked the cable, and then flashed a thumbs up. “Let him be,” Dust replied to Jack, and then he held out his hands and caught Cairn on the way down. He gave the lad's head a congratulatory ruffle.
“You don't understand,” Jack pressed, “he shouldn't go out there. We don't know what's out there in the jungle, which dinosaurs are where, what kinds of danger – ”
“Jack.” Dust hopped down from the log and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I get it. I understand the dangers of the unknown. But your brother is kind of a prick, and if his lordship wants to potentially get eaten over peeing in private, then I say more power to him.” He paused in thought. “But he does still have the checkbook. That's a problem.”
Jack scowled at him and pulled away. “Thomas is indeed a prick, but he's still my brother.” With that, she stormed off into the jungle where Thomas had disappeared.
Dust sighed. Perhaps he'd been too harsh.
“I'm with ya, guv,” Cairn piped up. “Look, Lord Thomas ain't the nicest, and I get why the Lady ain't exactly fond of you saying he's expendable and all, but you're spot on. He's a prick and a drunk, and he don't treat nobody well at all. Not even his sister. I feel bad for'er alla time, you know? She just wants to make her family well and proud, and he just sees her womanhood and laughs.”
Dust raised an eyebrow. “Pretty observant, aren't you?”
“It's easy to watch when nobody sees you, guv.” Cairn chuckled in the manner of one who was accustomed to being overlooked. “Lady Jack, she's the one what took me in. I ran away from the shelter, see, they didn't take too kind to me. Tellin' me I's always wearing the wrong clothes, but the way I sees it, I'm wearing what I ought to be wearing. She sees me for who I is, not what people wants me to be.”
“So if you and Jack are partners in crime, what's with you playing manservant to Lord Prick?”
Cairn frowned a minute. “I do what I does for Lord Thomas so 'e leaves 'er alone a bit. Mum pled me case with the Lord Blythe-Wight 'imself when she took me in. Not the brother I mean, but the big man. But when 'e says no deviants allowed, up pipes Lord Thomas sayin' somethin' about not havin' enough help round the castle. Don't give one lick about me personally, him, but so long as I does what I'm told, he gives us no problems. Especially the Lady. Course, he holds it over her alla time, but she don't mind that none.”
Dust ruffled his head again. “You're a good man, Cairn. Alright, let's maneuver the jeep while the family finds themselves. Least we can do is be prepared to continue once they've returned.”
Now for the difficult part of the matter. Dust waved Cairn back a few feet for safety, and then he knelt on top of the hood and reached for the winch control. After a moment of contemplation, Dust sighed and pulled the lever. Slowly, the jeep began to nose upward with the pull of the cable, ever-so-gently lifting the front tires up from the road. He watched with trepidation for the branch to pull, or give signs of snapping, but the wood was strong and held the weight of the vehicle. As the front bumper rose completely vertical, Dust clambered over and sat on the grill whilst straddling the winch. A moment later the rear tires left the earth and the jeep dangled in the air, swinging softly against the bulk of the log. Then it cleared the log entirely, strung up by the cable. Now the branch he was hooked to began to bend downward, straining with the weight of the jeep, and Dust slowly lowered the jeep back down towards the ground. He needed to time the sway of the jeep; if he did so incorrectly, all he'd accomplish was setting the jeep back on the side of the log that they'd begun. But his timing was good, and he planted the rear bumper of the jeep on the soft earth on the opposite side. All that remained was the simple matter of lowering the jeep the rest of the way, and then unhooking the cable. Were it not for the amount of time they'd lost in the endeavor, it was practically a perfect set of moves. Almost too perfect. Something usually went wrong with obstructions such as these, and Dust began to worry that he was missing something.
Once all four wheels were on the ground, Dust hopped back up on the log, and motioned to Cairn. The boy understood, and was lifted back up to the branch to unhook the cable.
Jack and Thomas still had not returned.
Dust pondered this. Had he truly earned her ire with his commentary about Thomas? He'd been too brusque, and now he felt silly for it. But each passing minute with the two of them still gone made Dust worry a little bit more, especially since he was still the only one with a weapon.
Hurriedly, he returned to the front of the jeep and spooled the cable, now anxiously looking into the foliage and listening for sounds of movement or speech. There were none. He also noticed that there were no sounds in the jungle whatsoever; he couldn't recall if there had been any sort of animal or insect noises of any kind since entering the enclosed space. This was doubly poor for their situation, as jungle sounds usually ceased in the presence of predators.
Dust chewed his lower lip in thought.
“What's going on, guv?” Cairn had noticed his demeanor.
“Stay with the vehicle,” Dust said calmly, and drew his gun.
“Guv,” Cairn replied warily, “if it's all the same to you, I'd rather go where you're going if you're going to have that out.”
Dust gave the lad a calming smile. “If shit gets tricky, you'll be better off with the jeep. I run faster than you can.”
Cairn considered this, and then nodded.
Dust entered the jungle.
Step by cautious step, he watched where he placed his boots, careful of twigs and fallen leaves stirred by his footfalls. He gently moved low-hanging vines and wide fronds out of his path, allowing them to quietly sway back into place. Noise was the enemy. Understanding that he was sweating, and was downwind, he hunched over and kept himself as swathed in the foliage surrounding him as possible. Masking his scent would be key.
Something up ahead was moving.
Dust froze. He couldn't see movement, but he could hear it. A shuffling, swishing susurrus of leaves.
Again he moved forward, watching his steps.
A small clearing opened before him, couched by fallen trees that had been arranged in a haphazard ring. Curious. A quick look around did not reveal eith
er Jack or Thomas, so he ducked even lower and came up to the edge of the ring. Peeking over it, he saw an array of large, ovoid eggs, ruddy in color and speckled with dots of white. These were propped up by heavily clawed dirt, an action which had been done by very clearly large paws. There were no distinct prints, but the trails of claws were pronounced in the piling. Some of the eggs were open shells, with no fluid surrounding them. Hatching had happened some time ago. Young were out and about.
A nest. Of course it had to be a nest that he'd stumble upon.
But what kind?
Murmured voices came from the left, and he instinctively ducked before he recognized Jack's scalding tone. Thomas replied with indignance, and while Dust couldn't make out specifics, he could tell that they were arguing. No doubt over Thomas leaving to urinate without checking the surrounding area for possible danger. Well. That bit was sorted, and it seemed as though they were unaware of the nest nearby. Wherever the adults of the nest could be, they were not here, so the sooner they all made their escape, the better.
The voices stopped.
Thomas, clear as day: “Hell-lo, and what might you be?”
Oh, no. They must have seen a youngling.
Jack, responding with fear: “Thomas, I think we should leave immediately.”
Dust rose from his spot and quickly made his way towards their voices. If Jack was frightened, she clearly had the knowledge to have good reason for it.
“I daresay it's little more than a youth,” Thomas spoke. “What a good little beastie, eh?”
“Thomas, we need to leave now.” Jack was speaking in hissed whispers. “This is – ”
Dust emerged from the bushes just behind Jack and Thomas. They whirled around in surprise, and Dust quickly held out his hand to calm them. “I just found something nearby that is very bad and dangerous and we need to get the hell away from here.”
Thomas scoffed and pointed at the youngling. “But it's just a little baby! What harm, eh?”
Dust stared at the youth with fascination. The youngling was the size of a large dog, perhaps three feet tall, and its very short feathering was a pale, tawny color, which looked as though it would eventually settle on a mud red as it matured. It stood on its hind legs, which were already powerful and clearly meant for speed, and held its tiny arms clasped together before it. A short, stubby snout comprised its features, and as it stared back at the humans with curiosity and disbelief, it gave a quick honk of examination. Perhaps it expected them to honk back. But all Dust saw were the sharp, rowed teeth that were in its jaw, and he imagined a larger version of this and wanted to leave even more so.
“This might be a baby,” Dust said quietly, “but the nest is nearby, which means that the parents will be as well.”
Jack's eyes widened in horror and she clasped her hands over her mouth. “We're in a nesting area.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Bugger. We have to go.”
Thomas frowned. “You're being all very mysterious and rude.”
Dust leaned forward and grasped Thomas' arm. “Nest. Young. Adults. Teeth. Bad. Very bad.”
“Unhand me!” Thomas shouted and pulled away, nearly stumbling over the youngling. At this, the youngling made a series of indignant caws and honks, giving the impression of a parrot, and circled around them so it was closer to the nest.
“Shut up!” Dust hissed, and he backed away from the youngling as Jack did the same.
“Stop telling me what to do!” Thomas bellowed. He puffed up his chest and tried to look intimidating.
Something within the jungle gave an inquisitive bark. It was loud, and belonged to something very large. The youngling barked back, happily hopping up and down, relaying signals back to its parents so that they might come and see what it had found.
Thomas quieted and looked into the distance.
Dust leaned towards Jack. “What kind of dinosaur is this thing?”
“Tyrannosaurus Rex,” she replied.
Dust's expression fell. Even he knew what that was.
From the jungle, large footsteps echoed and shook the ground. Heavy steps mingled with the swaying of multiple trees, bushes, leaves. Something large snapped and fell; the crash and splintering sound gave Dust an impression of how easy it must have been for all of those trees to have been pushed into that nest-ring, or how the log had been felled across the road. He didn't quite have the nerve to face off against whatever this was, and so he holstered his gun, grabbed Thomas and Jack, and they all turned to run.
For a brief moment, Dust wondered if they were even headed in the right direction. Senses failed him as the jungle's scenery became indecipherable, but then he caught sight of the road, and the log across it. Cairn was standing up in the jeep, waiting for their return, and he held out his hands in the silent expression of What's going on?
Thunderous, rapid footsteps and the low growl of a beast preparing to roar came from behind. Far too close for comfort.
Dust and the others broke from the jungle and ran along the road. Thomas made an attempt to leap up and over the log, but he failed miserably, sliding back down onto the ground with a thud. Jack knelt to help him up, but Dust quickly waved her away. With a quick, easy motion, Dust grabbed Thomas by the collar and the belt, and heaved his Lordship up and over onto the other side of the log. It felt quite good despite the circumstances.
Dust and Jack made to surmount the fallen tree, but turned back at the sound of the beast coming through the jungle.
It emerged from the density of the trees, much bigger than Dust was hoping it would be. The tyrannosaur rose perhaps forty feet above them, its five-foot-long skull looking back and forth, searching for the intruders who had dared to cross its boundaries. Rippled, textured plumage the color of red clay covered its body, with scales in places where it would add better protection. A thick crown of orange and yellow plumage swept back from the skull majestically. Its legs tensed with thick, sinewed muscle, and the young rex that had been in the bushes emerged alongside the parent, happily chirping and cawing and pointing its snout towards Dust and Jack.
From behind it, a second tyrannosaur stepped onto the road, this one slightly smaller, a darker brown color, and its snout was marked with multiple scars and claw marks. No crown covered its head; instead, a row of fringe-like feathers emerged from its smaller arms. An acidic smell of musk accompanied the new rex's arrival, and Dust deduced that this must be the male. Wonderful. Mother and father both come running for junior's report. The male sniffed and snuffled at the ground, gathering scents for it to track, and it huffed indignantly after latching to what could only be Dust's and Jack's.
The female rex gently swept the young rex to the side, nudging it out of the way with her hind leg. The youth cawed in defiance, but the female barked at, and it quickly leapt back into the jungle growth.
Both male and female rexes glared at Dust and Jack, growling.
“Today,” Dust muttered, “has been a very bad day.”
Then he and Jack both turned and leapt over the log.
***
V
Dust landed on his feet and ran, Jack alongside him. Adrenaline spiked his veins and he felt everything: the heat of the jungle, the humidity, his thundering pulse, the smell of the floral soil, the tremors in the ground, the rigidity of the paved road beneath his boots, the sound of the reverberating footfalls, the rising growling of the rexes behind them. Riding this crest, he nimbly hopped over the back of the jeep and stepped over Thomas, who was flailing to tighten his harness across his shoulders. Cairn, bless the lad, still looked confused as to what was going on.
Dust slid into his seat and turned the key. Jack piled into the co-pilot seat as the engine roared to life.
“What?” Cairn asked. “What's the rush, guv?”
Dust floored the accelerator and ignored the question.
The jeep started forward, twisting over a series of upraised roots, and for a moment the tires spun helplessly over the slick, mossy surface. Dust turn
ed the wheel and pressed the gas harder, desperately in control of his motions, and the jeep caught traction once more. They leapt forward, bouncing wildly. Thomas had been right to put his harness on, although now there would be little time to pause to throw on the driver's belt.
Behind them, a sickening crunch alerted the rexes' charge, and Dust looked in the rearview mirror. Mother Rex had her left foot placed on top of the great log in the road, which was the source of the splintering sound. She placed her weight fully upon it, and the log was sundered: two halves cracked open, and the mighty trunk appeared as though it had been made of papier-mache compared to her strength. At this, Father Rex charged forward, headbutting one of the halves out of his way, roaring triumphantly as he did so.
“Holy crow!” Dust exclaimed, and he turned his attention on the road ahead.
“Sweet tits!” Cairn yelped. He reached forward. “Gimme the gun, guv!”
“Sit back and strap yourself in!” Dust commanded.
Cairn opened and closed his hand, refusing the order. “Gimme the gun! I'll hold 'em!”
“Sit back!” Dust roared, and for a moment he took his eyes off of the road to glare at Cairn in the mirror.
Jack reached over and grabbed at Dust's sleeve. “Watch out!”
Ahead of them, the road rose sharply into the air like a cragged ramp – upraised roots stuck out like spiked fingers, reaching for the vehicle. There was no choice but to charge it headlong.
“Hold on!” Dust shouted, and he braced himself.
Beneath the jeep, the roots were unable to hold back the weight of the vehicle, and they splintered as they were rolled over. Then the front tires hit the ramp. The whole of the front end bounced high, quaking with the impact, and Dust felt himself thrown backwards in his seat, which was then complemented as the back end stuck the hill and went airborne. There was a pregnant pause as the jeep flew forward in the air, the angle pitching and equalizing, until the front end lowered itself down towards the ground, and the rear was up high. Dust watched in horror as the front bumper dipped too low; they were going to crash into the road instead of landing on the tires.