by C K Burch
“Hold on, Jack!” he called, and he lowered himself, vine by slippery vine, struggling with the lack of traction and the wild swaying. Each strand wobbled maliciously, and his balance was tenuous at best.
“Move quickly, please!” Jack shouted back.
“As quick as I can!” He began to descend with his entire body versus relying solely on his limbs. He stretched his arms out to either side and allowed his chest to be caught and bear his weight; the crooks of his knees hooked vines and he fell with the momentum, hanging upside-down momentarily before reaching out to grasp the next. Glacial seconds passed – he was moving much faster, but he could see Jack's hold giving way. Mother Rex continued to look up hungrily. She licked the front of her snout, prepared to devour a small meal.
Above, Cairn shouted: “Watch out, guv!”
Dust returned his attention to the bridge, and saw the jeep swinging madly as the bridge's support ropes were giving way entirely. It was about to collapse, and the jeep would drop.
“Grab onto something!” Dust commanded. He loosed his whip and looked down at Jack. He'd only have one shot at this.
Jack's hold on the vine faltered, and she fell.
Dust dove through the net. As he fell, he unfurled the bullwhip in his left hand and reached for the vine Jack had previously been holding with his right. Timing was grave. He flicked his wrist expertly and the bullwhip lashed out, wrapping itself around Jack's booted ankle, and Dust caught the lowest vine for support. Both pulled taut at the same time, and Dust held on to both leather and plant, with Jack suspended dangerously above Mother's open maw.
Jack flailed, trying to get away from the rex's mouth.
“Stop moving!” Dust shouted. “I can't hold you!”
Mother went for the meal: she leapt upwards, closing the gap between herself and Jack, jaws ready and filled with a nightmare of pointed teeth. Dust swung Jack away from beast just in time, and Mother's mouth snapped shut inches away from human flesh. The violent clack of her snap echoed through the ravine.
Dust looked up. The jeep, at last, gave up and dropped down to the vines.
As predicted, the weight of the vehicle was too much for the knitting to withstand. Pausing briefly as each vine gave a mighty attempt to hold the tonnage, the jeep tore through the net as though it were wet paper, popping strands like wires in a piano. Thomas was well clear and away from the path of the fall; Cairn scrambled away in time, his eyes on the vehicle. As each strand was sundered, each piece flew away in opposing directions, towards the respective sides of the valley they were attached to. Dust quickly gauged the jeep's direction and learned where he and Jack would be thrown.
He looked down, grimaced, and prepared for the worst.
Mother Rex steadied herself to leap once more, but the jeep pierced the bottom of the net and tumbled in wild revolutions towards the female. Surprised, she sprang away, as Dust and Jack swung down and across the ravine towards the opposite wall. The jeep crashed into the ground, accompanied by the sound of glass shattering, and Mother yelped, caught off guard by the mechanical beast which had attacked her, and Father Rex roared at her in concern. Meanwhile, the length of the strands that had be strung across the ravine were greater than the distance from the cliff's edge to the floor. As such, Dust found the rocky floor coming up to meet he and Jack much quicker than expected.
“Brace yourself!” Dust shouted.
Jack, hanging upside down, screamed
He released his grasp on the bullwhip as they approached one of the least-dangerous portions of the floor, and Jack spun, managing to catch the brunt of the fall primarily on her knees and forearms. Dust had the better luck and was able to land on his feet, rolling with the inertia, suffering multiple contusions and torn skin, his forearms receiving the brunt of it. Something clattered away as he did; the gun. It hadn't been fastened into the holster, and landed somewhere along the ground. Once he came to a halt, he immediately stood to return to Jack's side.
Mother Rex, for her part, had recovered from the shock of the strange metal beast, and had refocused her anger upon the human intruders.
Dust made it to Jack and knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”
Stiffly, Jack nodded and made the attempt to stand – then collapsed on the ground, her arms splashing in the sliver of water that sluiced through. “My knee,” she moaned. “I can't. I need a moment.”
“I don't think we have one.”
“Leave me, then. We don't have to die, both.”
Dust looked up at Mother as she strode confidently towards her kill.
He looked down and saw the pistol, lying on the ground, some fifteen feet away, between him and the rex.
Well. He was here for the excitement.
He picked up the bullwhip, disentangling it from Jack's ankle, and began to move towards the gun.
Mother Rex roared with conquest and charged, her footsteps quaking the earth.
Dust waited until she was within range. He gently drew the whip around behind him, building up momentum, and then he flung the tail forward, pulling back at the proper moment with his wrist. The tip disappeared – it was too fast to see with the naked eye – but the sharp crack that echoed in the valley and stung the side of Mother Rex's face provided evidence. Mother howled, confused, in pain, stepping back from her onslaught to shake the strange wound away from her hide. As she moved back, Dust moved forward – all he needed was to get close enough to the gun. Above them, Father Rex roared with warning, as if he dared Dust to do the same thing again. Why Father hadn't slid down into the valley as well was a mystery, but this was not the time to dwell upon it. Mother was angry still, and she came again. So again Dust struck with the whip, this time with a staccato of cracks that opened red lashes along Mother's snout. Again she recoiled, but now the attacks were serving to fuel her anger rather than repel it.
As she charged once more, Dust let loose another flurry of snaps, which Mother only briefly paused at with each strike. Her fury was evident, so Dust quickly rolled forward in the moment and grabbed for the pistol. Once in his hand, he stood and aimed at her feet and fired twice into the ground, one bullet for each foot. Warnings for what would come if she continued.
Mother Rex recoiled harshly, and she stumbled; she understood those sounds, and what that pain would feel like. Dust stepped forward and dared her backward, cracking the whip again and again to push her, to which Mother responded by furiously opening her mouth to consume him. Another shot fired, this time aimed aimed at her shoulder. Stung, she howled and turned herself away from the attack, shaking her head back and forth, as though she were attempting to work through the pain. Dust offered a bonus to reconsider, and fired once more into the ground, this time much closer to her feet. Mother pulled her foot away from the impact quickly, now truly fearful. But Mother's resilience was stronger than he gave credit for, and she stood her ground, her gaze locked with his. Focused, furious eyes stared at him, and he knew that she might charge again. He knew exactly where he would need to place the next bullet. But in the midst of the fracas, he'd lost track of how many shots had been fired. Had there been four bullets in the magazine, or five? If only four, then he was empty and done for. He dared not look away from Mother's gaze to check. Death would surely follow.
Mother roared, still standing in place.
Dust pulled back the hammer.
Seconds passed with great anticipation.
Then, slowly, Mother Rex turned her body back towards the ravine she'd slid down, and sprang back up the impossible incline. Three leaping, shuddering hops took her to the summit, her claws digging into the rock. At the top, she was joined by Father Rex, who was carefully inspecting his mate, but she would have none of it – instead she glared down at Dust, as if to give him full warning that should they cross again, she would not relent. The two rexes turned and disappeared into the jungle side by side.
Dust sighed, adrenaline leaving his body. He giggled, imagining how he must have looked, using the tactics of a lion tam
er to hold back a tyrannosaurus. Must have been quite the sight, that. Curious, he inspected the slide on his gun – and it was empty. Sweet mother. He holstered the pistol and coiled the bullwhip, staring up at the remains of the vines as he did so. Up on the slope of the ravine, Cairn was whooping and hollering. Both he and Thomas – who was much higher up and struggling – had held on tight as the net of vines had collapsed, and were still suspended in the air, using the incline of the cliff as leverage.
“Good lord, guv!” Cairn crowed. “You did it! I can't believe you got 'er!”
Dust smiled.
He returned to Jack and knelt beside her. “How's your knee?”
She grasped his forearms and used them for leverage to stand up. Testing her weight, she nodded her head and limped slightly. “It's well enough,” she said. “Probably the initial pain and shock. I can walk.”
Dust gave a cautious glance up to cliff, half expecting the rexes to have returned, and yet they were still gone. He wondered what, precisely, had given Mother pause to reconsider her actions. Perhaps because of the younglings in the nest. Anthropologists would have quite the day going over tyrannosaur parenting habits, who did what work and what not. He imagined they probably believed that rexes didn't care for their young in the slightest. What a happy relief that was not true.
“I say!” Thomas cried from on high. “We're stuck up here and could use a hand! The bloody beast has had its retreat, so come be a sport!”
Dust approached Jack and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Better get going,” he said. “After all that noise we just made, something had to have heard us. And it'll come looking around to see the new neighbors.”
Jack nodded, but her face was masked with confusion. “I don't understand,” she admitted. “Why didn't you kill the rex? She would have torn us all to shreds.”
“I mean, should I have?”
“No, of course not. I just – your restraint. You held back from killing her. I don't understand why.”
“Well, you know, they were just protecting their nest. I figured if I could just drive her off, she'd be satisfied to leave well enough alone.” He frowned. “I got that right, right? Or did I just get lucky?”
Jack contemplated this, and then smiled at him. “Yes, actually, your observation was spot on. You're a solid man, Dust McAlan. I'm quite honored to be in your company.”
“Oh stop, you'll embarrass me in the front of the children.” He nodded briefly up towards Thomas and Cairn.
Jack stifled a giggle. “So. Shall we carry on, then?”
“Sure you're up for it?”
“I have to be.” Jack's gaze followed the vines up towards the summit of the cliff wall, where Shambhala lay beyond. In the sky, dark clouds had come to life, threatening rain. “If we're to make any of this mean anything, then I intend to carry on. The Amrita exists. So shall we discover it.”
Dust nodded, then gestured to the vines. “Ladies first. I'll follow and keep an eye out for nasties and assholes.”
Jack smiled. “As you have already. Thank you.”
Dust nodded at her as she limped past. He was distantly aware of Thomas' indignant yelling from high up, but his attention was drawn primarily to thoughts of the skirmish that had just taken place. Part of him understood that these creatures had never existed beside man, and that they knew nothing of these soft, fleshy things that were invading their world. Another part of him understood that events would only become more difficult, and more violent, should they encounter some prehistoric beast that was acting on behest of hunting instincts versus protection. But he minded the notion that, before the day was done, he would no doubt have to deal with more predators – those of the human variety as well.
He resolved himself and turned to climb the vines.
***
VI
Rainfall began as they were a quarter of the way from the top of the cliff. Sporadic at first, it eventually increased into a steady downpour. Soon the day had gone from humid and mild to drenched and cold, and by the time they'd reached the top of the cliff their clothing had been soaked through entirely. A torrent of muted pitter-patters struck the leaves of the jungle life around them, which had grown over and surrounded the edge of the city ruins that lay at the ravine's edge. What had once been one of the ringed outer walls was now a patchwork of crumbled stone, which in places only rose as high as four feet, and in others towered as high as twenty, but with wide holes that had been punctured by age and vine. Beyond the wall lay the view of one of the city's towers, which rose some fifty feet in the air, draped in moss. Even higher above the tower was what appeared to be the central palace of Shambhala, resembling a Buddhist stupa: the domed apex of the construction and the tall obelisk rising forth from it seemed to confirm this. Plantlife had consumed the profile of the palace, however, so from this point it could still be speculation.
Jack looked to the sky. “I'm rather confused by all of this.”
Dust frowned. “What about?”
“When we opened the gateway, the tunnel led into the mountain,” she explained. “So thusly we should have entered some hollowed-out cavern. Instead we emerge into a valley with a sky clear as day. The sun is present, the plantlife thriving, and now we have rainfall. So instead we appear to have crossed through the mountain to some unseen valley deep within the range, and yet as we passed over the site there was no evidence as to any of this. It's impossible and incredibly confusing.”
“Only if you're looking for a scientific answer.”
She casually brushed away a rogue droplet running across her eyes and frowned. “How so?”
“Okay, so you know that funny feeling we all got when we drove through the tunnel here, and everything shorted out for a second and suddenly – poof – back to normal?”
Jack rolled her eyes. “This again.”
“Think about it. I'd thought it was a deterrent of some kind to prevent unwanted guests from meandering to paradise, but maybe it's more. You say that we are in a realm of physical impossibility. Maybe our 'gateway' was more than just that, you know, in the physical sense.”
“You believe we've transported across some, some, some kind of, some boundary through time?”
“Not necessarily time, but it would explain why the dinosaurs have dodged the processes of evolution. Maybe we crossed a boundary through space, to a space outside of what we experience as space.”
Jack's jaw dropped, aghast. “I cannot fathom the notion that you're even entertaining this.”
“Trust me,” Dust sighed, “I've seen some shit.”
“Have you ever actually experienced the kind of event you're describing?”
“Once. It was like a fever dream, you know, fitful and present, but distant. And also very real.”
Jack's eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “I'll take your word on that. But I'll not succumb so easily to the notion that this entire world is buried within some spiritual plane.”
Dust shrugged. “Hey, I'm not saying that's how it is. I'm just thinking out loud. Whether you want to latch onto that theory or not, that's up to you, but I'll bet you half my pay that we find something that confirms I'm right.”
“Ooh.” Thomas pulled the flask out of his mouth and wiped his lips in excitement. “I say, take him up on that, Sissie.”
Jack whirled to face him. “You stop that.”
“It's a bloody surefire bet!”
“And you're terrible at gambling.”
Thomas scoffed and turned to Dust. “Game on, old boy, five thousand pounds on the barrel.”
Dust considered the prospects of this, and shrugged. Might as well play the bones for a few extra bones.
Pausing beneath a particularly large frond for cover, Dust examined the remnants of a stone pillar beneath the greenery. He brushed aside a web of thick moss to reveal a series of images carved in relief, which had survived surprisingly well, despite the age and overgrowth. Multi-limbed figures standing in positions of authority and religious aw
e appeared in relief, surrounded by what appeared to be demonic primates. Tailed creatures with exaggerated, vile features surrounded the gods, possibly worshiping them. This was made even more intriguing by the appearance of gold, inlaid throughout the carving. Dust gently touched the material to be sure, and realized that the gold had been poured to seal the individual stones of the pillar in place. He had seen such methods used in Japanese pottery – kintsugi it was called, resealing broken bowls and plates together for reuse. But this was of a scale entirely larger and unheard of. Where the Japanese method was to fix shattered clay, the gold here seemed to be a sealing agent in the initial construction. If the whole of the city was like this –
Thomas leaned in and interrupted his thoughts. “Bloody devilish hell, my son! Is that gold? Good god, is the whole of the city constructed so?”
“Could be,” Dust mused.
“A city of gold!” Thomas whooped and hollered, smacking Dust upon the shoulder with giddy excitement. He turned to Jack and grabbed her shoulders. “Gold! Riches! You never mentioned this part, dearest! Were you saving it for a surprise? Tell us you were!”
“I had no idea of it, and I've no intention of paying it any mind.” Jack irritably shook herself free of Thomas' grasp, and began to dig in her satchel.
“No mind?” Thomas turned and placed his hand on the pillar. “An entire city comprised of this material would be worth boundless billions! Wealth beyond imagination! And you wanted simply to see dinosaurs.”
Jack looked up at him crossly. “Are you forgetting the Amrita? The nectar of immortality?”