by David Rhodes
The beast could have taken off, or it could be ten feet behind him. Birds fought on a branch above, and flies and bees hummed like high voltage power lines, ringing in his head so loud Gill pressed his fingers to his forehead. He needed to get out of the forest. Back to Brian.
Gill brought up the Remington, panning it back and forth as he emerged from the evergreens. He eased into the river, looking over his shoulder, scanning the stream in both directions.
The raptor bolted from the forest in a blur.
Gill brought the rifle around and fired.
The beast slammed into him and the gun flew from Gill’s hands, landing on a stone and bouncing into the forest. The raptor clawed at him with one of its seven-inch retractable talons, but Gill’s momentum as he fell saved his life, the beast’s swipe passing inches from his face.
He hit the water, landing on the rocky river bed. Pain spread across his back as the creature passed over him and crashed into the river. Gill rolled in the water, coughing and sputtering, fighting to distance himself from the beast.
“Dad? You OK?” Brian yelled.
Gill said, “You stay there. Stay there! It can’t get you. I’m fine. You hear?”
No response.
Gill got to his feet as the raptor circled. The beast chirped and huffed, its teeth clicking as it opened and closed its long mouth. Its eyes never left Gill. He felt its stare, knew it was seeing every move, evaluating his strength.
Somewhere in the back of Gill’s mind his dead father’s voice rose above the panicked tumult, and the memory of a hike they’d taken when he was a boy came back to him as if sent from the beyond.
Gill and his dad were hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park and they’d come around a bend to find a massive grizzly bear standing on the path. Startled, the beast rose on its hind legs and roared, slime dripping from its tooth-filled maw. Gill remembered how he’d been thankful for not drinking all his iced tea at lunch, because only a tiny spritz of urine soiled his underwear. He recalled the fear like it was yesterday, just as he remembered his father’s soothing words.
“Don’t make any sudden movements. It’s just as afraid of us as we are of him, and it’s important not to show fear.”
Then the old man did something that stunned Gill so completely he’d gasped.
His father charged the bear, yelling and screaming, waving his arms. The bear roared and bolted into the woods. “Just have to show them who’s boss, that’s all.” Gill remembered thinking his father was the bravest man he knew. With his son’s life in the balance, could he be as brave?
Gill ran toward the forest to get the rifle. The beast’s eyes followed him, and it squawked, but held its ground. The gun lay just inside the tree break and he snatched it up. The raptor splashed in the river as it took a step forward. Gill slipped a hand into a pocket and pulled out a bullet. He slid back the bolt, ejected the spent cartridge, and slipped the .22 caliber shell into the firing chamber. The click of the bolt closing echoed over the river as Gill brought up the rifle.
The raptor attacked, charging and jumping into the air with its clawed feet forward like an eagle dive-bombing a field mouse. Gill lurched backward and fired. The shot went high and wide, but he managed to knock aside the creature’s claws with the rifle as the beast came at him.
The raptor recovered quickly, and before Gill could get to his feet, the beast had him pressed into the river. Gill sucked in air as he was thrust underwater, the creature’s short arms holding him to the riverbed, talons digging into him. Gill thrashed, pounding the raptor with the rifle and kicking it. The beast was strong, and it held him fast as its jaws smacked.
A loud caw came from the forest. The creature paused and lifted its head.
Gill knocked the raptor in the head with the rifle and freed himself. Another caw. The raptor’s head jerked side to side, its eyes focused on the woods.
Gill inched backward toward the tree break. The beast wailed, opening its jaws and throwing its head back as it advanced, the call from the wild forgotten. Gill backed away, rifle held like a club. His shoulder ached where the raptor hit him, and he was losing his strength, tiny stars dancing in the air before him. That’s when he remembered the fishing knife in its leather sheath.
The memory of the sheath brought a smile. People think of the strangest things when the adrenaline is flowing like wine. He and Abigale had gone down to Sonoma before Brian was born. A second honeymoon. They’d visited the four corners where Colorado, Arizona, Utah and New Mexico meet in the lamest tourist trap ever assembled. He’d wanted to leave, but Abigale and shopping had been an unstoppable force, yet it was he who had made a purchase.
Gill remembered the face of the young girl who’d sold him the sheath decorated in beads of various colors. She’d been so proud of her creation. It made him so happy to buy it from her.
He pulled the knife and his father’s voice again mocked him from beyond. “What are you gonna do with that? Only you’d bring a knife to a dinosaur fight.”
“Hey, you leave him alone,” Brian yelled. He stood atop the pile of rocks, a baseball sized stone in his hand.
Panic ran through Gill. Brian was exposed, and it was his fault. Never taking his eyes off the creature, and keeping his voice steady so as not to frighten the boy, Gill said, “I’m OK son. Please go back to your safe place. Please.”
The raptor inched forward, its talons clicking on river stones. Its mouth opened into a smile and the creature lunged for Gill.
The rock hit the beast square on the snout, and the raptor turned toward Brian. The boy stood perched atop a boulder, dirty-blonde hair blowing in the breeze, a broad smile running across his face. Then noticing the creature’s gaze fixed on him, Brian headed back to his hiding place.
The raptor abandoned Gill and sprang across the river. Brian wasn’t going to make it. The raptor was too fast.
Gill fumbled in his pocket for another shell, but there were none. He dug in his other pocket and found a bullet. He jacked it into the firing chamber and aimed the weapon at the beast.
The creature hopped onto the stone pile, lurched forward and pulled on Brian’s foot with it snapping jaws. The boy held on, grasping at rocks as he climbed, but the strain was too much, and he fell backward into his attacker.
Gill fired and hit the animal’s upper torso, blood splattering Brian’s face. The beast’s head jerked back, but it didn’t release the boy’s leg.
Brian cried in pain, and Gill screamed, a primal yell of fury, fear, and self-loathing. He’d allowed this to happen. He’d let Abigale die, and now he was going to lose Brian and it was his fault. He fumbled for another bullet, but his pockets were empty, the rest of the ammo in the backpack forty feet from where he stood.
The raptor jumped from the pile of stones and disappeared into the forest, Brian screaming and crying as he dangled from the creature’s mouth.
Primeval Valley is available from Amazon HERE!
You can find other great dinosaur thrillers at www.severedpress.com