Treachery (The Terra Trials Book 1)

by Dan Thomas

  “I’m sorry, what was that, Chopsticks?” Sam asked incredulously.

  “I-uh, it’s a—”

  “Shut up, dude.” Max had to suppress a smirk at his friend’s obliviousness to danger.

  “And I bet it was one of your harebrained schemes that got Max into this mess,” Sam’s voice came in clearer as she adjusted her earpiece. “And Max, why do you always go along with them?”

  “In my defense…” Max was cut off as the Rex came almost level with the tree, its heavy footsteps causing the branches to shake, one digging uncomfortably into his side.

  “Whoa, that’s a big dino,” Sam said.

  “It would make a great tame, guys…” Chopsticks tailed off.

  “Yeah, it would, but I don’t think this is the time,” Max replied.

  “It’s not,” Sam said shortly. “I’m getting a map up now; I should be able to figure out where you went from Cerribue and try to find you a way out. I swear if Pez has been traveling all night just for you to die this close to him, he’ll go crazy.”

  “Okay, please hurry,” Max said, his legs and arms going numb from gripping onto the branches. Looking down he could see that all but a few of the Coelophysis had scattered, moving to the sides of the Rex, but keeping pace with it warily. They knew that they could outrun the larger dino with ease, and the carnivore paid them almost no attention as it stopped its head to smell at the mass of broken trunks and branches below Max.

  “Okay, Murf,” Sam said with meaning. “You need to head to the northeast from where you are. I don’t think the map for that area’s been updated for a while, but it should just be a clear shot down to the river.”

  “Northeast.” Max looked up at the rising sun. “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “You should be able to outrun the Rex,” Sam said.

  Max eyed the mottled brown scales of the Rex as it stepped forward, its hulking neck only a few feet below him as it watched the Coelophysis with mild interest, which had moved into the tangle of branches, adopting Max’s tactic of waiting out the danger.

  The beast was colossal, maybe thirty feet long or more, and incredibly thickset. Max could smell the damp coming off of its hide, it was that close. Every exhale was like a gust of wind, disturbing small branches and shaking off dead leaves.

  “I think Chopsticks and I had already ruled that out as a solution. Even if I can outpace the Rex, the Coelophysis will probably get me,” Max said quietly.

  Sam let out a breath. “What about the Concealer?”

  “About that,” Chopsticks said. “It ran out of battery, which is what got us into this mess.”

  Max heard a loud grumble, like that of thunder, coming from below him. The Rex was raising its head away from the little dinos, scenting the vines just below his feet. Max held his breath. If he dropped down now, he’d land right on top of the creature’s bony head.

  “He’s right there.” Chopsticks had his hide-behind-the-sofa voice on.

  “Shit,” Max hissed as the beast’s crimson red eyes, the size of his hand, flicked upward, and it began to bring its head up higher, craning its neck to scent along the length of the tree.

  Being gentle with his movements, Max inched his way around the tree trunk, moving from branch to branch, trying to keep it between him and the massive dinosaur who would swallow him in one bite. He wasn’t sure what was worse, being eaten by lots of tiny mouths or one big one. He wasn’t hanging around to find out.

  “Oh, man, he’s gonna see you!” Chopsticks shrieked.

  “Max, move!” Sam yelled.

  The Rex took a step forward, whole trees snapping like twigs underneath its foot. With a loud creak, the tree Max was sitting in leaned sideways as the Rex pressed its shoulder against the trunk to smell the tree.

  Max closed his eyes. He was not going to die here. He hadn’t gone to Gyromeda and fought alongside Jag for it to end like this. And he couldn’t lose whatever was in Jag’s box.

  Max slowly reached for the gun, sliding the pistol out of his belt. He flicked it on. Max was determined to see just how much damage this thing could do.

  A wave of warm breath swept over Max and the smell of rotting meat lingered in the air. Max looked to his right. Huge jaws moved past the tree, level with where he was sitting. He could see each individual scale, pieces together in a dull mosaic, even the thick drool pooled around each of the dagger-like teeth at eye level.

  Max raised the gun and aimed at the jaws.

  The Rex’s nostrils flared again as it huffed in a heavy breath. It could smell him.

  It moved forward more, the bridge of its nose visible, and then its eye, its slitted pupil dilating as it saw his prey at last.

  Max pulled the trigger.

  The air zinged as a laser pulse shot out, clipping the top of the massive set of jaws, which recoiled from the hit.

  Max rolled off of the branch, falling through the air as it was wrenched apart by an overwhelming roar of rage. Max yelled out in pain, thinking his eardrums might burst from the sheer force of the sound.

  Then he hit the vines, scrambling to find something to hold onto as the net of creepers cushioned his fall. They bounced up and down a couple of times, but Max managed to stop himself from being flung off and began sliding down back toward the tree trunks. From his vantage point, he watched almost all of the Coelophysis scamper out of the clearing and into the safety of the thicker forest.

  Which was great. Except that Max wanted to use that same cover. Instead, Max slipped off the trunk and ducked under the tree, forcing himself as far into the small space as he could.

  The thundering roar came to an end. Max looked over his shoulder to see the underside of the monstrous jaws. As the Rex let out a rumble, it sounded like it was raining as globules of saliva fell around him.

  Max held the pistol grip tightly. All he had managed to do was piss the huge dinosaur off by hitting it with the peashooter. If Max’s aim was a bit better, he might be able to catch it in the eye, but that was looking unlikely.

  “What do we do?” Chopsticks asked.

  “Just stay put, don’t make a sound,” Sam instructed.

  The Rex began to lower its head, and Max brought the pistol back up, holding his breath again.

  There was the loud sound of something crashing through the undergrowth and a terrifying bellow. Max peered out of his cover to see the Rex’s head swing around to look at something downhill before it turned its body and stomped away, the ground shaking with every footfall as it moved out of sight.

  Max chanced a look over the fallen trees, seeing the huge creature storming toward a lone Parasaurolophus, which must have spooked at the roar and mistakenly broken cover.

  “Now’s your chance!” Sam cried.

  Max pushed himself out from his cover, vaulting over a broken sapling and tearing through a mass of sticks.

  Shoving the laser gun back in his belt, Max stuck his hands out to cushion himself as he collided with a mossy tree trunk and scrambled his way up. Slippery green moss stuck in his fingernails as he fought to get a grip.

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he slipped down into the leaf litter once more.

  Max sidestepped toward a lower part of the tree trunk and bent his knees before jumping into the air. His hands slipped over the curve of the trunk and the fingers of his left hand scraped against an old dried-up vine. Catching hold of it, he pulled himself out of the leaf litter and onto the trunk of the tree just as the first small dino crested the tree trunk on the other side of his leafy pit.

  The gripless soles of his boots slipped against the moss before his foot struck the base of a broken-off branch. Fighting for his life against gravity, he wriggled and kicked his way onto the tree trunk. He heard a wet crunch as something fell onto the leaf litter behind him.

  Max didn’t look back. He straddled the fallen tree and supported his weight on his hands while swinging his feet under him. Steadying himself, he crouched down until he’d gotten his balance and then pushed to
a standing position.

  Swinging his head left and right, he spotted his escape route.

  Not exactly surefooted, he held out his arms like a trapeze artist and ran along the tree trunk. When he reached the end, he leaped to the left and landed with his feet together and knees bent like a gymnast. It was the only elegant part of running the gauntlet of fallen trees as he raced for his life.

  Long, dead branches snagged at his clothes as he raced for safety.

  “Where am I going?” Max called out to the others. He looked over his shoulder to see that the pack had begun to regroup, and had managed to get onto the fallen trees, running lithely along them, leaping over the gaps as they bore down on him.

  “Keep going northeast, you’re going in the right direction!” Sam told him.

  Max was reaching the edge of the landslide now, the fallen trees becoming sparser, more upright, with vines hanging down where they had survived the mudslide.

  As he approached the edge of the clearing, Max realized that he was very quickly running out of places to go. If he dropped to the forest floor, the Coelophysis would easily outrun him through the undergrowth.

  Max came to a stop, careful not to skid off of the wet trunk. He looked at his pursuers, the fastest runner only a few logs away from him.

  He turned around, trying to find a way to move forward, a way he could move that the dinos couldn’t follow.

  His eyes rested on a thick creeper hanging off of a branch a couple of feet away from the log. It wasn’t far, and Max didn’t know if he wholly trusted his character to make it, but he didn’t know what else to do.

  He bent low, then sprang forward, reaching out to the hanging vine. He felt the tough fibers in the palm of one hand, grabbing for it with the other and wrapping his arms around it. His momentum carried him forward and the creeper swung dangerously, his stomach lurched as it then carried him backward toward the log he had jumped from, before coming to more or less still, hanging few feet above the ground.

  He looked down, seeing that the Coelophysis had caught up, and were not far below him. They began to jump up, like dogs trying to catch a cat stuck in a tree, so Max bent his knees under him to avoid them. Holding tight with his legs, he hauled himself up the vine, shifting his legs up and then repeating until he was at more of a comfortable distance from the snapping jaws below him.

  “Nice!” Chopsticks said.

  Max grunted and shifted his hands, trying to stop his weak grip from letting him slip down. He couldn’t stay put for long before his grip gave out.

  With a glance up to the tree the vine was hanging from, he angled his body toward a large branch.

  Flicking his heels out, he leaned back, swinging the vine forward. He swung a few times, building momentum, then stuck his feet out and let his speed carry him toward a nearby tree. Sailing over the small dinos, he aimed for the thick branch that stuck out right across his path. As he neared it, he held tightly to the vine with one hand, his legs still wrapped around it, and reached out with his free hand. His chest struck the branch hard, breaking his momentum and maybe a rib or two as the air was pummeled from his lungs. But he grabbed on.

  “Oof,” Chopsticks groaned in sympathy.

  “Got it.” His hand slid over the curve of the branch, the rough wood scraping his palm as he tightened his grip. Letting go of the vine, he hooked his right arm over the branch and hauled himself up. Like a drunken cowboy, he slipped his leg over the branch and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Swaying a little as he got his balance, he breathed in, wincing as the pain in his side peaked. “Nothing broken.” He let out a breath and winced. “I think.”

  He opened his character sheet, seeing that his health had been hit a little and that he was beginning to grow thirsty again, but there were no injuries listed. Everything he’d sustained was only superficial for now.

  “Northeast,” Sam reminded him with no sympathy for poor injured Murf at all.

  “Not all that helpful.” Max glanced down at the jungle floor now a few feet below him. “Ah, crap.”

  “They aren’t going to let you go easily,” Sam told him. “You need to stay in the trees and hope all this noise doesn’t attract another big dino.”

  “Easily?” Max panted. “I thought we passed easily a while ago.”

  “Well, who do you have to blame for that?” Sam said, a smirk in her voice.

  Refusing to rise to the bait, Max shuffled along the tree branch toward the main trunk of the tree. When he reached it, he clasped his arms around it as far as he could and slid his feet underneath him. Pushing up wearily, he clawed his way to a standing position, using the tree trunk to help him balance.

  The humid jungle air mingled with sweat and he wiped his forehead on his shoulder as he looked around, seeing rays of sunlight beaming down through the thick leaves. “All right, northeast.”

  Max took a minute to catch his breath, suddenly aware of his lack of energy, and a dryness to his throat. He took off his bag and rummaged through for his last two Wa-Kau fruits and began chowing down.

  “Hm, an odd place for a picnic,” Sam said.

  “It’s better than down there,” Max chuckled as he looked down at the many pairs of beady eyes all still looking up at him. Max thought that there were fewer dinosaurs than were at the beginning of the chase, which was one comfort at least.

  Max munched down the two sweet fruits. “Well, there goes the last of my food. I could just do with some more water.”

  “As long as you’re not about to die from dehydration, there’ll be time for that later. For now, just stick to the trees,” Sam said,

  “It’s just like playing the floor is lava, except instead of lava, the floor is little death dinos,” Chopsticks snickered.

  Max frowned. “Sounds somehow less inviting.” He swiveled around and reached out for a vine that hung from the higher branches of the tree he was roosting in.

  “Just be thankful I persuaded you to unlock the Slow Metabolism Trait, otherwise you would really be starving to death,” Chopsticks said.

  Max’s fingers slid off the hardened vine and it moved just out of reach. He grabbed his spear from his shoulder, reached out with it, and hooked it around the vine, pulling it toward him. He hadn’t seen any Strangler Vines yet, but he had to be careful not to accidentally grab one thinking it was just a normal creeper.

  He groaned as he looked at the branches above and below him. He was so used to having Traits that helped him see a route while he was climbing, but for now, he was relying solely on his own ability to judge distances, what branches would be safe, and what he could reach.

  Max twisted the vine around his lower left leg and then leaned back, keeping a tight hold on the tree to stop himself from falling off the branch. He took a deep breath and threw himself forward, kicking off from the branch. The wind whistled past his ears, and large leaves and sharp branches whipped at him as he sailed away from the tree.

  As he traveled through the air, he looked ahead to his next stop. A branch twisted away from a large trunk, upward toward the canopy. He could make that.

  Chancing a glance down at the ground, he could still see the undergrowth rustling furiously below him.

  Did they really want to eat him that much? Surely there was much easier prey for the little critters. Or were they holding a grudge that hard? Were they even capable of holding a grudge? Max had heard of some carnivores stalking prey for miles before, but usually larger, lone hunters.

  Max tilted upward as the vine ran out of momentum, but he was close enough to reach out and grab the twisted branch. He let the tension go in his legs, the vine falling away as he clung onto the branch and swung his legs up to wrap around the tree branch, mimicking a sloth. Hooking one leg farther around the branch, he hauled himself up so that he was sitting on top of it among the leaves.

  As Max sat there, through the sounds of chirps and screeches that filled the jungle, he could hear a not-too-distant roar, like that of strong wind.

&nbs
p; Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Nicely done,” Sam said. “Not much farther and you’ll be there.”

  “Yeah, man! You’re doing great considering the noob suit,” Chopsticks said.

  Max smiled at the encouragement. “It helps to be so familiar with the game, if I was Holic right now, this would be a breeze.” He looked down through the dense leaves at the sea of jungle in every direction. “How much farther, Sam?”

  “Not far now,” she said. “But you need to get a move on, Pez should be in the area by now.”

  Max breathed a sigh of relief; he was almost in relative safety.

  But I’m not there yet, he thought to himself as he tried to figure out his route forward.

  There were still masses of vines entangled in the crowns of the trees, but none hanging down low enough in the direction he wanted to go. Luckily the tops of the trees were so broad that he could see a way of hopping from branch to branch.

  Returning to his sloth position, he let himself swing down, holding on with just his arms as he felt out below him with his feet for the lower branch. When he felt it underfoot, he let go of the higher branch, quickly crouching down to keep his balance.

  The wood flexed a little under his weight, but easily held fast. Staying low, he began to move away from the trunk, toward the end of the branch. As the branch began to bow down, Max stepped off onto the next branch, wobbling a little, but easily keeping himself upright, and began moving again with more confidence. When he reached the trunk, he put his hand against it to steady himself, taking a second to see where he needed to head next.

  “I see a vine,” Max said. From what Sam had told him, he just needed to make it over the small clearing that was now below him. The sound of rushing wind had become steadily louder, and despite the seemingly clear skies above the canopies, Max feared that there was an incoming storm, which would bring an abrupt end to his treetop adventure.

  Eyeing the vine hanging loose only a few feet away, he rocked his body backward and forward with his arms outstretched as he took aim…