Dark Island

by Matt James

  “Let me go!” she growled through gritted teeth.

  “Easy there.” His voice was calm and quiet. “Don’t want to be its next meal, do ya?”

  Next meal?

  Then, she heard it. More scratches. Something was behind them. Deep enough into the tunnel, Nash let go and flicked on a flashlight, covering the majority of the beam with his free hand. Mack was thankful to see the man’s attention was on surviving and not on her. Then again, he was a soldier. Nash’s survival skills should have never been in question. His motives, however, well…

  “Where are we going?” Mack whispered.

  “No bloody clue,” Nash replied. “Anywhere but that bastard’s stomach would be good for starters.”

  Mack agreed and drew her pistol, limping along beside him. The gun wasn’t as imposing as Nash’s rifle, but it would have to do. Now, she was thrilled that Ian had given it to her. Her thoughts turned to Ian and Babo.

  Later, she thought, focusing on her own predicament.

  Their tunnel seemed to be the primary source of travel within the mountain because it was the largest of all the ones she’d gotten glimpses of. Every fifty or so feet, she’d spy another path connecting to their own. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what they held or where they went.

  “This shit just keeps goin’, huh?”

  Mack was going to say something witty in return, stating the obvious that it was a mountain. But then she noticed the grade of the decline. Decline… They were moving deeper underground. Deeper within the island itself.

  A squeaking noise sounded off behind them, and Nash reacted like it had just stung him. He spun around and squeezed the trigger of his rifle, sending a half-dozen rounds into the empty space behind. Cringing at the booming concussions, Mack immediately suffered a case of the “rings.” Her ears were shot. She then added her own light and saw that the tunnel behind them wasn’t empty after all. Something on the ground writhed in agony, blood gushing from a bullet wound.

  It wasn’t one of the dinosaurs, though.

  “It has fur?”

  An all-to-familiar chirping sound came next, getting them moving again. Nash pulled Mack along before she could get a closer look at what he’d shot. Whatever it was, it was small and mammalian. Dinosaurs—birds—whatever the raptors truly were, didn’t have fur.

  Raptor—bird of prey. The name was ominous for a variety of reasons. None of which she got to go over. Instead, a second, lower chirp answered the first one’s call. Abandoning the stealthier movements, Nash picked up his speed and uncovered his light. They were in the creatures’ world now. There would be no hiding from them. Their only chance at seeing that next sunrise was to find a way back to the surface without dying.

  Not dying would be nice.

  With her mind elsewhere, Mack didn’t feel the tunnel dip beneath her. Her injured knee buckled slightly, and she fell but was caught before she could hit the ground. Nash’s hand latched onto her arm again, only this time, he didn’t let go.

  He pushed her up against the wall of the tunnel, into a nearby alcove just big enough for them to fit. His face got uncomfortably close to hers, and it took everything for Mack not to scream in terror. It was what she’d been afraid of ever since Nash first ogled her outside of his trailer.

  He’s taking his chance now. No…

  “Shhhh,” he warned, looking over his shoulder.

  Mack calmed enough to hear the sound of approaching feet. Something had snuck up behind them, and Nash had acted quickly and hidden them. Now, she felt terrible about labeling Nash as a rapist. Her past experiences had been forced upon a man who, at times, exhibited some cringeworthy traits.

  “Kill your light,” he said softly.

  She did, just barely being able to move enough to do so. They were packed in like sardines. Mack wasn’t sure what they’d be able to do against one or more of the raptors if Nash couldn’t get his rifle up in time.

  Apparently, he didn’t need it. Instead of relying on the deadlier, although, harder-to-wield weapon, Nash drew his other gun. Holding his sidearm with his right hand, the ex-Special Forces soldier spun out into the tunnel and pointed his flashlight back the way they’d come. The beam hit two of the creatures head on.

  So, did Nash’s bullets.

  Mack was stunned at how fast and efficiently the Brit dispatched the two man-sized predators. Each dinosaur took two rounds each, falling limply to the tunnel floor. In fact, they were killed so quickly that neither of them got off a single swipe of its claws, or even a cry for help.

  “Holy shit!” Mack said, impressed. As happy as she was, though, the gun’s multiple reports had once more abused her ear drums. She tried to blink the discomfort away but couldn’t.

  Ugh…

  Nash turned and smiled, holstering his gun with a Wild West-inspired spin. Aiming the light behind the dead monsters, he nodded, satisfied that there weren’t anymore. Then, he clipped the light to the front of his rifle and shouldered it.

  “Ready?”

  Mack nodded, wanting to apologize for her behavior. Then again, she didn’t really do or say anything to hurt the guy who just saved her. He was protecting her, just like Ian or Babo would’ve.

  She stepped out of the alcove, clicking her light on again.

  Still…

  “You know, I was wrong about you.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “No, you were right.” Her face fell, but his widening smile relieved her returning anxiety. He winked. “I am just a bastard who only gives a damn about the money.” He nodded down the tunnel. “I need you to stay alive so you can finish payin’ me.” He shrugged. “I have a lot of shit to buy. My Amazon cart is overflowin’.”

  Mack actually laughed. Maybe Nash really wasn’t such a bad guy. She didn’t want to lead him on, though.

  “Lead on, Gunslinger. We need to find Ian and Babo and get the hell out of here.”

  Nash frowned. “Right, them…” He looked annoyed. “Let’s go.”

  They continued deeper into the underground world, moving quickly but stepping softly. Mack’s knee was starting to loosen up a little, making it easier for her to keep up. She was dreading the inevitability of them stopping and resting.

  Mack had twisted her ankle playing volleyball one day, back in high school, and was okay to finish the practice. Her first opportunity to rest it was on the short ride home in the car. Upon arriving home, the joint locked up and gave out as she climbed out of the sedan. The lack of movement in that quick span of time, while a blissful respite, caused her ankle to tighten up. She suspected that the same thing was going to happen to her right knee too.

  “Bloody wonderful,” she said to herself, mimicking Nash’s accent.

  “Huh?” he asked, hearing her in the still, dank air.

  “Nothing,” she quickly replied, cringing. The last thing she needed to do was upset Nash. She was a goner without him.

  He gave her one more look before returning his attention to the path ahead. Mack did the same, seeing that it began to open up a little more. Before, it was wide enough to comfortably fit them both side by side. Now, the tunnel was large enough to fit Ian and Babo too—all in a row shoulder-to-shoulder. The ceiling had raised some as well, which released some of the uncomfortable feeling one got when confined to underground spaces. Knowing that there were millions of pounds of unstable rock directly above her head—and below their feet, for that matter—made Mack’s stomach churn.

  After another ten minutes of silence, Nash slowed. The tunnel had opened again and disappeared into the darkness. Mack could feel the empty air around them. They had entered a cave of some kind, but it was too dark to see anything—if there was anything to see at all.

  “Hang on,” he said, holding out a firm hand.

  She did, letting the more capable warrior go first. He crept forward, covering his light again. Thirty seconds later, Nash stopped and waved her forward. Mack joined him and, together, they splayed their lights down another steep decline. This o
ne was different, though. A soft flow of water accompanied the downward slope, coming from an unseen break in the foundation somewhere.

  “You like waterslides?” Nash asked.

  “Normally, yeah, but—”

  A screech from behind them forced Nash into motion, shoving Mack down the primal waterslide. Thankfully, she was already about to jump and landed with relative ease, traveling feet first. She quickly got the soles of her boots down flat and used them to slow her descent. Nash was right on her ass doing the same thing.

  And they kept going.

  “What the hell?” Nash said from behind, sounding as bewildered as she was. Even the flow of water increased as they forged ahead, further and further into the unknown.

  The current got so intense that Mack no longer had any control over her speed. They each shouted as they were whisked away, their speed increasing as they went. Abruptly, it ended—both the water and the tunnel alike. They were sent screaming, flailing through the air. She tried to get a look at where they were going but couldn’t. Instead, Mack looked down past her feet, intent on picking out Nash’s and her own eventual landing spot, good or bad. Their airtime ended fifty feet later, and it rattled Mack’s already injured knee.

  They plunged into a freezing pool of water, its shocking temperature sapping her strength and punching the air from her lungs. Blinking against the icy chill, she saw a light above her head and kicked toward it.

  Light? Even submerged as she was, and out of oxygen, the sight gave her pause. How?

  Kicking like mad, Mack was almost there, but her lungs burned terribly. Spots enveloped her vision as she finally broke the water’s embrace. Coughing hard, it took her a few seconds, and a couple much-needed lungfuls of air, to get herself under control. Once she did, she looked over the realm they’d just entered, staring in awe.

  “Holy fuck,” Nash said, wading nearby. “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  Mack had to agree. She couldn’t believe what she saw either. She was having a hard time processing what she saw, not exactly sure what it meant—and she could see it. They were in a cavern hundreds of feet beneath their original entry point, and it had natural light.

  “How is this even possible?

  13

  Traveling for over twenty minutes now, Ian and Babo were exhausted. Since they were forced deeper underground, they’d yet to see another living thing. Whatever had spooked them earlier was either playing coy and staying back on purpose—or had retreated to the surface world in search of easier prey.

  It didn’t matter why. They weren’t leaving until they found the others. Ian's thoughts drifted toward Mack. Nash could handle himself better than most, but Mack was dead meat if something happened to the former SAS soldier. Even Ian had Babo with him. He knew he had underestimated the journalist before, but this was an entirely different set of circumstances.

  An odd sound greeted them when they entered a large cave. It didn’t appear to be the raptors, however. The winged dinos used a series of bird-like chirps and shrill screeches. No, the sound he heard now was like that of a newborn cat nearby, mewling for its mother.

  “Dammit,” he said under his breath, swinging his weapon back and forth. He couldn’t see anything beyond his flashlight’s aura, but he knew there was most definitely something else in the cave with them.

  But where?

  From what he could deduce, there were multiple ways they could go. They had exited what he figured was the east tunnel. Before him were additional tunnels branching off to the cardinal points…roughly.

  Three ways to choose, and only one is right.

  “Over here,” Babo whispered, pointing his light into the west tunnel. They’d made the decision to stay on what felt like the main path with the hopes of running into Mack and Nash. Continuing forward was the best option. It’s how they ended up where they were now.

  Ian followed Babo into the next corridor confused at what he saw. There was a low-level of light emanating from within. The light was soft blue in color and it was just enough to see by.

  Raising a single eyebrow, Ian entered by Babo’s side. They passed under a carpet of bioluminescent algae. It coated the ceiling of the tunnel like a dense shag carpet. Then, he saw a group of similarly glowing mushrooms on his right. They too gave off a soft radiance and was pale green in color.

  “Good for soup?” Babo joked, getting a smile out of Ian.

  “Probably get you as high as a kite,” he added, snickering.

  More of the mewling echoed around them, stopping them in their tracks. Because they were now in the tunnel, Ian couldn’t tell if it was coming from in front of them or behind them.

  Hopefully behind us.

  Ian really didn’t want to know what was making that noise. His head was crammed with knowledge of the island country. Like he told Mack earlier, he had studied every predator, extinct or not. The only thing that he knew of that might sound like a cat was something that sort of resembled one.

  God, I hope I’m wrong.

  He had read about the remains of the beasts found in the northern and western part of the island—some even being located in the south. The one place there had hardly been any remains found was where the team was now. The eastern region and central mountains had been devoid of Cryptoprocta spelea…until now.

  The next sound they heard wasn’t the same squeaks as before…it was the call of a raptor—and it was close. Ian turned around, aiming his shotgun back the way they’d come. Glancing over his shoulder, Ian carefully walked backward, using Babo’s light as a guide.

  The earth around them shook, increasing the shrieks to a crescendo. What initially sounded like a single raptor, now sounded like at least six or seven. The ground bucked, stumbling Ian some, just as the first dinosaur-hybrid came into view. Ian let loose a series of echoing booms but wasn’t sure if he hit it. Rocks from above started to fall, some of them outweighing him.

  Screw it, Ian decided as he turned and ran. Babo had the same instinctual reaction and was already moving too. Then, three unique chirps announced the arrival of the creatures, entering the tunnel right on his heels.

  But they didn’t get the chance to taste his flesh.

  Diving out of the quickly collapsing passage, Ian took a stone to the back of his head. He landed with his feet half-buried in the broken tunnel. He tried to pull himself free but couldn’t. Turning as best as he could, Ian shouted at what he saw.

  One of the raptors had almost made it through with him but was crushed to death, its lifeless head sitting right on top of his heels. Babo shambled over, clutched the shoulder straps belonging to Ian’s vest, and pulled him free from his prehistoric shackles.

  “Son-of-a…” Ian mumbled, getting to his feet. His head ached, and he had blood running down the back of his bald skull, originating from somewhere beneath Abigail’s hat. Regardless if they found Mack and Nash, he and Babo weren’t going back that way.

  Still analyzing the dead carnivore, Ian and Babo’s noisy entrance was met with a chorus of mewls, all but confirming the existence of the apex mammalian predator—the largest to ever be discovered in Madagascar. Babo looked at Ian, turning in unison with him, seeing his dumbfounded look.

  “What?” Babo silently mouthed.

  Ian leaned in close as they sauntered into the next large space.

  “Giant fossa.”

  Whether Babo reacted to his words, or the world before them, Ian didn’t know. He likewise stopped and stared, appreciating what he saw. But he also feared it.

  There was a veritable rainforest of plant life. More of the blue algae coated the walls, as well as a dark purple variety. The ceilings of the cavern were also covered in it. The space itself was bigger than he could see. Eventually, the scale of the cave consumed the low light, it not being powerful enough for Ian to see all the way across the expanse.

  There were also more of the mushrooms, but these were the size of his face, some bigger, and all in different colors. In the still air, Ian
could hear a small stream, zeroing in on its location in the center of the, what, subterranean ecosystem? Ian didn’t know what else to call it.

  Call it what it is, Ian: A lost world. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the thought.

  Seeing an opening in the trees thirty feet in front of them, and there were many of the fifty-foot behemoths, Ian cautiously led Babo into the jungle-like environment. All forms of noises greeted them, taking Ian back to the times he had experienced the same gentle cooing of a South American rainforest. This gave off the same eerie vibe. He knew the creatures making the racket were close by, but he couldn’t see them.

  He recognized bird tweets, frog burps, and monkey hoots.

  Ian jumped at the sound of a full-blown cat hiss. Whatever it was—giant fossa, or not—it was pissed and really, really close. Next was a throaty, high-pitched roar and a series of blaring hoots. Madagascar was known for its multitude of endemic lemur species as well as its famous fossa. And like the Rahonavis and giant fossa, many of the lemurs had gone extinct over the millennia.

  Similarly to the raptor and oversized mongoose, the lemurs here were also, apparently, alive. The shouted hoots were evidence of it.

  Ian’s boots softly crunched through the leafy debris, no doubt a thought-extinct species of flora. Like the animals, there had been plenty of extinct floral discovered on excavations over the years.

  Some of this stuff might even be new.

  Like the raptors stalking them now, every species within the mountain had undoubtedly evolved into something new over the thousands—most likely, millions of years. Even the trees resembled nothing he’d ever seen before. The trunks were as thick as pine trees but had the hard, armor-like bark of a bamboo chute.

  Another ten steps in, the “jungle” opened, revealing a circular clearing devoid of any plant growth. He pointed his flashlight at the ground and confirmed that it was crushed rock. Somehow the plants beneath the surface had figured out a way to grow in abundance. Then again, it was volcanic in make-up. Volcanic soil was some of the most fertile stuff in the entire world. Like the inhabitants of the cave system, the flora had also evolved and flourished, adjusting to their subterranean home.