Pteranodon Mall

by Ian Woodhead

  Pteranodon Mall

  Ian Woodhead

  Copyright 2016 by Ian Woodhead

  Chapter One

  Its bright green eyes locked upon the animal’s large bulk. Although the potential prey out-massed the hunter by three, this apparent disadvantage had not dissuaded this animal from seeking a smaller, less dangerous prey, perhaps an animal that was not equipped with such a formidable-looking spiked tail.

  Dailess-Zaid leaned closer to the viewcrystal, feeling most proud and honoured to be watching one of his ancient ancestors in its natural environment, stalking its food. He took his own large green eyes away from the view and compared his digits to those of the hunter, attempting to visualise to evolutionary transition between him and that creature. Millions of years separated the two species, and although Dailess-Zaid had lost his tail and his head no longer protruded, he still saw the similarity between him and this hunter.

  He looked up at his three trophy heads displayed on the wall above his control system. These three were of his species, and as a direct comparison, the evolutionary transition now became evident. Dailess-Zaid did find it ironic that here he was, millions of years in his past, comparing the heads of a bunch of terrorists to a creature that they themselves wanted to revert to.

  The Sons of Maulis-Bow pronounced the changes which time and circumstance had wrought upon their species an utter travesty. They believed that only in their true form would the Great Deity accept their Ka into the hunting ground. The terrorists obviously had something missing from their stupid little minds, and as far as he was concerned, they should all be tracked down and exterminated for believing in such puerile nonsense. They wanted to get back to their true form via the use of genetic manipulation. He made the sign of the circle and asked the Great Deity for forgiveness for even thinking of the black science.

  He looked down, watching the hunter shift its weight onto the other leg. Dailess-Zaid attempted to forget about some terrorist organisation which would not even arise for another sixty-five million years and settled down, eager to watch this confrontation to the end. He ran his black tongue across his upper teeth, feeling the blood in his veins warm in anticipation.

  The prey animal shivered. It lifted its head and swung it from side to side. A deep roar issued from its mouth. It too shifted its weight but in panic. Had it sensed the hunter? Dailess-Zaid hoped not. He wanted to see the kill. Dailess-Zaid needed to see it. In all honesty, he would have sold two of his pairing mates into slavery to actually be outside the protective shell of the quantum displacer.

  Hot saliva dribbled down the sides of his mouth as he imagined himself being in the place of that hunter, about to leap upon the prey animal’s back and sink his sharp teeth into its thick hide.

  The Sons of Maulis-Bow would have taken this urging to be the ultimate proof that their species should not have evolved beyond that magnificent creature out there, and that to have gained sentience was the greatest catastrophe ever inflicted upon their species. Their obsession with the past did not stop them from attempting to acquire advanced military equipment to help them further their cause, though. If they really did believe all technical advancements to be heresy and an affront to the Great Deity, then why did they not attack their targets using only their claws and teeth? He would have enjoyed seeing such a spectacle. Perhaps if such an event had occurred, he might even join in with their enthusiasm and order his clan guard to leave the pulse blasters in their sheaths and killed them using only their claws and teeth.

  The prey animal shook its massive body before turning to the side. The tail swung from side to side, those four spikes effectively protecting its rear. The twin plates running all the way down its back now glowed a bright red. Dailess-Zaid heard another growl. It took him a moment to realise the noise came from him. He then almost fell off his perch in surprise when three more hunters streaked out from the thick undergrowth and leaped upon the prey animal’s back. Two of them biting into those plates, while one more managing to find a hold on its tender side.

  The creature roared out in pain and shook its huge body in an attempt to dislodge the three hunters. His own body ached to be out there, joining his ancient brethren, helping them to take this animal down. His mind calmly informed him that if he was in amongst those beasts, the hunters would not hesitate to turn on him. The feeling of kinship which he shared with these hunters would not be reciprocated. They would kill him before returning to tear into the larger prey animal.

  He sighed in pleasure when the original hunter darted out from its hiding place and took the prey animal completely by surprise. It fastened its jaws around the side of the creature’s head and bit down. All motion in the prey animal ceased and it fell to the ground, almost flattening two of the hunters.

  Dailess-Zaid saw two amber lights flashing to the side of the viewcrystal. He flicked his tongue in annoyance before his claws danced across the console. The image of the ship’s secondary clan master Quediss-Tel replaced the pleasing views of the hunters settling down to feast. He flicked his tongue over his snout to display annoyance at this fool’s wanton disregard for obeying a superior’s order.

  “It surprises me, Quediss-Tel, to find your ugly head contaminating my view. It is almost as if you wish me to strip you of your rank.”

  The senior officer bowed his head to the required level to show his servitude and gratification for the honour of being able to listen to Dailess-Zed’s bluntness. It struck him as a little odd to find the senior officer having the courage to disturb the ship commander on his rest period. Whatever it was, the call must be important. Quediss-Tel might not be the most intelligent of his officers, but the male certainly was not a fool.

  “You have my permission to speak,” he said, trying not to lose his temper. Thanks to this call, he had lost the only chance he would ever get to watch a pack of his ancestors eat in their natural environment. Oh, Dailess-Zaid was fully aware that he would still be able to see them hunter, kill and eat again. After all, their cryo-tanks were overflowing with many species of ancient creatures, all packed and ready for the scientists when they get back to their own time. “Well, do you have a report for me, or are you going to remain mute?”

  The senior officer finally lifted his head. The look of terror firmly etched upon his snout. Dailess-Zaid lost all his annoyance at being disturbed. He stood and leaned closer to the viewcrystal. “I said report!”

  “We found an intruder hiding in the engine room, sir. He says he belongs to the Sons of Maulis-Bow.” The officer paused. “Sir, he says he has planted an explosive device which will detonate when we spin up to the last cycle.”

  “What?” he thundered. “But that is imminent. Why was I not informed earlier?”

  “It took us quite a while to torture this information out of the prisoner, sir. You ordered us not to disturb you.”

  Both he and the senior officer looked directly above them as the hull ceiling changed colour, indicating the last cycle had begun. Dailess-Zaid was thrown back into his perch as the temporal blast surged through his ship. He gripped the side of the perch, already aware that something had gone very wrong.

  Chapter Two

  Jefferson Wade reached for the milkshake, ripped off the plastic cap, and poured a quarter of the freezing sludge down his throat. He blinked away his tears and took a deep breath before placing the cup next to his half-eaten burger. None of his companions had even noticed he almost choked. What kind of friends did he have here?

  Both Sandy Elmer and Alan Drake were too busy listening to Jefferson’s workmate bang on about the shoplifter he caught a couple of days ago. He idly flicked a piece of lettuce across the black counter, wondering if he ought to ask David to hush up, if only for a moment. At least until he had remembered to ge
t his story right.

  Sandy’s blue eyes flickered towards the multiple fans above their tables in the mall’s eatery, and a hint of a smile appeared on Alan’s face when Davis got to the part where he wrestled this huge guy to the ground and sat on him until security arrived.

  Apart from their table, Jefferson spotted some old lady who worked at Martin’s Department Store at the other end of the mall’s eatery. She was currently drinking her tea, while a young woman bent over a pushchair fed mushed-up stuff from a pink plastic container into the mouth of a toddler. She wasn’t having much success. Jefferson had to look away, feeling his face redden by the sight of her large breasts pressed against her low-cut blue top. Did she have no shame? Perhaps it was a good job his mate was too busy embellishing his lie to notice her. David would have had no problems in staring.

  He did wonder who she was though, considering the mall had yet to open. Unless her boyfriend or husband worked here. Not that it was any of his concern. Still, it posed a bit of a mystery, and it was certainly better than listening to this crappy story again.

  Sandy had stood. She collected Alan’s burger wrapper and her sushi container, and popped it on her tray. David had now reached the point where he was making his report to the police. Jefferson sighed. From the way he told it, anyone would think that this little glasses-wearing guy, with his fluffy brown hair and arms like the drumsticks on David’s full paper plate, was actually a superhero in disguise.

  “It’s a bloody good disguise,” he muttered behind his milkshake.

  “Okay, guys. I’d better depart.”

  Sandy gave Dave the biggest condescending smile that Jefferson had ever seen before taking her tray over to the bin.

  Alan grabbed his coat. He straightened his multi-coloured tie before extracting himself from between the table and the bench.

  “Wait up, I’ll walk with you.”

  Jefferson sighed again while trying not to allow his raging libido to turn his head back to the woman feeding her kid. Instead, he watched his two mates walk over to their relevant shops. Sandy worked in the nail bar, situated at the front of Tailor’s Beauty Parlour. From his till point in the PoundSave discount shop, Jefferson could watch the girl work her magic on some of the trogs who frequented her booth.

  Alan worked in the next shop, David’s favourite haunt in the whole mall. Well, apart from the eatery, that is. Alan had the dubious honour of being the assistant manager in the mall’s only toy shop.

  Sandy was getting married in less than a month, and Alan’s boyfriend was a gym instructor. Watching those two walk together, anyone would think they were a couple, short of holding hands, that is. Jefferson’s gaze turned from the pretend couple, bypassed David filling his mouth with fried chicken, and watched the woman walk past his table. Her slim hands wrapped around the pushchair handles.

  Here he was, twenty-three years old, working in the crappiest job in the universe, single, and poor. Here he was, sitting next to a lad who still lived with his mum, couldn’t stop lying, and collected toy cars. Jefferson stuck his forefinger into the last bits of pale goop at the bottom of the plastic cup and pushed a lump of ice cream around the base. He wanted something exciting to happen in his boring life.

  The woman stopped a few feet from his table and bent over again. Oh Christ, was she doing this on purpose?

  Jefferson pinched a couple of fries from David’s plate. “Seven foot, dude? Seriously?

  David didn’t answer back, he just shovelled the last fries into his mouth, and grinned.

  Jefferson seriously wondered if it was possible to die from sighing too much. “Come on, gobshite. We’d better make tracks ourselves. You know how pissy Mr. Hussain gets if we’re not there on time.”

  “Will you stop fretting, man? We have another seven minutes left. It only takes one of them to traverse the distance from this establishment to the sweatshop. Plenty of time to demolish the food still remaining on my plate.”

  “I think I hate my life.”

  His mate grinned again. Thankfully, Jefferson noted that this time David had at least swallowed his mouth contents first.

  “You worry too much.” David picked up the last two chicken nuggets, grabbed his coat, and joined Jefferson beside the fresh doughnut stall. “Did you see the way Sandy smiled at me, Jeffdude? Trust me, she wants my body.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” Jefferson picked up the pace when he noticed their boss’s familiar green baseball cap by the front entrance. He grabbed David’s arm and pulled him over to their shop and booted him inside, while Mr. Hussain was busy chatting to the security guard. It didn’t shock him to see it was Mo this morning, the lad who had pulled the shoplifter off David yesterday afternoon.

  “Stop it with the manhandling, Jeffdude. I can make my own way, thank you very much.”

  He followed David through the shop and into the back area, nodding at Gloria, their supervisor. She smiled back then continued to drop the change into the tills.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  Jefferson swiped his staff-card down the clock machine. “About you chatting crap about your imagined escapades?”

  “What? No, I mean about me and Sandy. You reckon I have a chance?”

  “Jesus. What part of she is getting married do you not get? You’d have a better chance asking me out.”

  David chuckled. “You have a crazy sense of humour, Jeffdude.” He clocked in too before waltzing through the doors and back into the shop. Jefferson listened to his mate compliment Gloria on her lovely hair, just like he did every morning. As tradition demanded, the woman, who was old enough to be David’s mum, giggled and called him lover boy. It took a lot of effort to stop him from sighing again.

  Jefferson clipped on his name tag, pushed open the staffroom door, and walked onto the shop-floor, ready to face whatever today would throw at him. Only he wasn’t ready. Jefferson wasn’t ready at all. Unlike that empty-headed buffoon, currently playing tiddlywinks with a couple of pennies, Jefferson didn’t intend to spend the rest of his life lusting after Sandy or spending stupid amounts of money on toy cars.

  He squeezed past Gloria, noting that she wore that God awful perfume again. Jefferson held his breath while he took up position by his till. He decided there and then that tradition could go fuck itself this lunchtime. Instead of joining the others at their designated table in the eatery, Jefferson would grab a sandwich in the cafe in Martin’s Department Store. He had to admit, that idea did have legs. He hadn’t been in there for weeks. It would be a pleasant change to be alone with his thoughts for once, without having to listen to David’s stories, or Alan’s current beef with his fella, or Sandy bitching about the trogs who came to have their nails done. Just him, a beef sandwich, and a window to gaze out.

  Then again, it might be a better idea to leave the mall altogether and grab a pasty from Greggs instead. The fresh air would do him the world of good, and after spending next four hours next to Gloria, Jefferson would need a ton of the stuff to sandblast the stink of her perfume from his lungs.

  Someone ought to tell the woman that she smelled like a cross between a vanilla wax-melt and brake fluid. Jefferson would give that job to David. He’d do it as well, the empty-headed buffoon.

  The thought of this woman punching out David’s lights did bring a smile to his face. He’d like to see how he’d explain that to the gang at tomorrow’s meeting at their table.

  Chapter Three

  The brats had finally skulked off to their respective shops; it took them long enough. Another few minutes, and Desmond Lampton would have been forced to put his foot down and use his authority.

  Not that Desmond had any real power. He would have just stood beside their table, tapping on his sweeping brush, until they took the bloody hint and buggered off. The good-for-nothing, bone-idle brats. They wouldn’t know real work if it smacked them all in the chops.

  He reached their table, wondering if he should have done that anyway. That chick who worked in the
nail-bar was hot. He’d give his left eye to spend some quality time in the sack with that prize piece of arse. Desmond might have to make a few more discreet inquiries about that one, to see if he could find out where she lived.

  The gobby kid, who worked with that shifty-looking bastard in the discount store, had left a chicken drumstick. Desmond casually dropped that into his special bag before cleaning away the rest of the crap that the messy little bastards had left.

  It shouldn’t be allowed. That’s all he had to say on the matter. They sloped in here with their noise, unsightly hair, and general shitty behaviour, and left their crap all over his spotless table. All without giving a toss about it. It would be poor Desmond here who’d get in trouble if the shift manager paid the eatery a surprise inspection.

  Desmond gave the table a swift wipe before removing himself from the eatery. He didn’t like it here. There were too many kids around, and they were the ones who served the food. It was time to make a quick exit before even more of the pint-sized fuckers streamed through that door. Desmond absolutely detested Saturday morning in the Hopeview Shopping Mall.

  He made his way along the main concourse, pushing his cleaning trolley ahead of him. The rear wheel on his left squeaked. This told him that his mate, Henry Wild, had switched trolleys again, the shithead. Desmond grinned. He didn’t blame the old bastard. After all, he’d switched them in the first place last week.

  There were still a few more minutes before opening time, so it gave him just enough time to slow down and stop right outside the beauty shop’s front window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the hot chick again.

  He couldn’t see her. Bloody hell, what a disappointment. Desmond pressed his face against the glass, wondering where she was. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of someone banging on the window. It didn’t come from this shop, though. He stood back to discover that blond twerp from the toy shop scowling at him. The twerp stood there, amongst a display of Legos, giving Desmond daggers.