‘As I thought might be the case, the troondon also have an interest in helping us. Apparently, they too have been attacked but I haven’t been able to find out just how badly.’ David pushes on in a voice carrying across the calls of the dinosaurs surrounding them on three sides.
‘I ran into two of the troondon watching us on our way back from Sotak. They seemed anxious to talk and, it took a lot of sand sketching but we’ve been able to lay out a drive path. One thing though, I don’t want to use the ridgeline as a kill zone. I want to push them down toward the ocean and across the roadway. Before any of you ask, we think we know the area the bad guys are in. We can push them this way, down toward the plateau. They won’t feel like they are being cornered because we’ll leave the flank open. They’ll actually have to cross the open area we cleared for our road to escape. This sets up a good, clear kill zone for our shooters and I’m sure the bad guys won’t even see it as a threat.’
‘How … how in the world did you talk with them?’ Sara shouted above the calls. ‘We’ve only been able to pick up their most basic greetings?’
‘Oh, a lot of hand-waving, scratching in the dirt and stomping around. Apparently we both had the same goal and concept in mind so it wasn’t all that hard.’
‘No, no, no.’ Sara Wenford shook her head. ‘They could not be that far along. They actually thought of a drive plan this complex and using our resources? This also involves a trap that would only work with weapons that can kill from a distance. They aren’t used to that.’
‘Look Sara, they hunt like this all the time and they’ve seen what we are capable of. We even saw the Albertosaurus driving the Hypes through our camp using tactics and communications almost as complex. Have you forgotten that already? I don’t have time for this. We need to move now if it’s ok with you Dan?’
‘Not up to me, what do you think Mark?’
‘Ok, things keep getting stranger and stranger but let’s go for it. Dan, I want you to send up two Hunters to oversee the whole drive. You may even have a chance to end it early from up there if you can get a clean bead on the guys.’
David shook his head, ‘I’m not happy with that. They will be very close to the Troondon. I don’t want to see any of our drivers getting hurt.’
Seth Sassaman called in over the Hive Tab net, ‘We’re ready Mr. Nolen. We figured you might need our help so Toshi and I did all the preflights. Don’t worry Mr. Pope. We’ll hold off and be very careful if we do happen to take a shot.’
‘Ok, if you think you can do it then I trust you guys.’ David answered as he turned to look at the troondon around them. ‘Let’s all take care and I want my shooters over here now. We’ll be travelling with two of the troondon, the rest will go off ahead of us. The two troondon that stay with us will report back to the drivers the exact position of our kill zone. Let’s head out.’
Mark gave a last call to the group, ‘Good hunting guys. The rest of you head back into the Station. I want to lock down the plateau during this operation. We have no idea just what they might scare up and if anything heads this way I don’t want anyone outside.’
* * * * *
They ran southwest for eighteen minutes at an easy jog, back to the kill site along the road and the side trail and then onward. The troondon spread out in the brush around them, silent in their travel but alert and vigilant. David could hear the soft push of air from one of the Hunters as it passed quietly over the group. At the kill site, flies, gnats and other insects fill the area drawing small birds, dinosaurs and other minute predators to the feast. Faint but persistent buzzing forms the background of a meadow already echoing with the calls and song of the daytime wildlife.
The troondon stop to form a circle around the area where Sotak died, watching for threats while four obviously older males joined the group of humans at the still bloody, insect covered area of trampled horsetails. Delicate three fingered hands with opposable thumbs lightly touched the grass, sometimes sniffing the spoor and the air. Several times they touched pieces of grass to their tongues, extending them several inches from their long, tooth filled snouts.
Dan pulled the security team in around him. ‘This is our starting point. We’ll stay until they move up the trail and then we’ll fade back to the roadway section that’s just down from where we entered the brush. When we get there, I’ll place each of us into position. Remember, be aware of the location of those around you. I don’t want anyone shooting and hitting a troondon much less one of your buddies. Most of all, no unnecessary movement or noises. That includes talking. I guarantee you these bad guys have unbelievable good hearing so keep quiet.’
‘I’d like to make a suggestion sir.’ Alex spoke up. ‘If you and David would agree, I’d like to travel with the troondon. We will need to know their progress and exactly where they are located. I’ll be able to update you and also guide them using our helmet communicators.’
‘Actually that’s a good idea but I should do it.’ David commented.
Dan answered immediately, ‘No, let Alex do it. He’ll be able to keep up better than you and he knows the short calls of our security net.’
‘Hey Dave, they look like they’re ready to move forward.’ Anton spoke up just as several short clicks arose from deep within the throat of the older troondon. ‘You’d better go over and see what they want.’
David jogged over to the group. ‘Ok!’
He shook his head and gave out a short warble sound. He then reached around and pushed Alex forward.
Three of the troondon backed away, their neck feathers bristling slightly at the quick movement. Alex pushed into the brush past them. They looked at each other and then the older troondon took off, running into the high horsetail ferns of the meadow, quickly passing in front of Alex.
Dan turned and, with a wave of his arm, motioned the humans back into the brush. They pushed across and into the narrow palm grove moving swiftly but as quietly as possible. Small dinosaurs and lizards ran before them, some turned to scold them as they passed. Others flew or glided through the dense growth to escape the swift passage of the humans. The humans trusted only to chance that a deadly threat would not rise before them and ruin their plans.
Soon the humans mounted a ridge and followed the more difficult passage just below the top of the ridgeline. They avoided the dense scrub at the bottom of the small valley that would have slowed as well as increased the noise of their passage. They also avoided the easily travelled ridge top that would have silhouetted them against the open sky, allowing them to be quickly spotted from afar.
Just before reaching a section of the brushlands that lead into the dense swamps, they crossed into a small, open clearing. The hard road lay a scant thirty yards ahead. The level of the roadway rises slightly above the soft surrounding brush with an open ditch on both sides for drainage. Trees, brush and scrub were cut forty yards out on both sides of the causeway during construction and left to lie in a loose, jumbled mat. Travel through the new cut slowed their passage significantly. The fallen brush and trees, left to lie there during the initial clearing, pulled at their trousers and trapped the unwary footstep.
‘OK, let’s settle into the first drainage ditch.’ Dan called in a loud whisper. ‘When I place you in here get down and keep still. Pull over a few of these bushes for silhouette cover. We don’t want to spook them before we hit ‘em.’
‘Now look, here is your field of fire. Stick to it and don’t let your eyes wander. Stay still and no talking. You want to do something? Then listen to the drivers as they get closer. You should be able to hear the bad guys coming ahead of them. No itchy trigger fingers. I don’t want to see anyone hurt by friendly fire, understand? That includes troondon! Remember, Alex is going to be in there somewhere.’
* * * * *
The troondon moved quickly through the brush. Now they made no pretense of keeping quiet. Calls filled the air; low bellowed whoops that warbled, piercing through the undergrowth. They pulled trees and swatted bushes with t
heir tails. Occasionally a single call would pierce the jungle and their track shifted into another direction.
‘Sounds rather like a strangled turkey.’ Alex thought but he didn’t even try to shout on his own. Their pace was so rapid he had to meter his breath and energy with care. Then he saw one of the hunters running on all four feet. The hunter’s nose was down to the ground when it suddenly stopped and circled back. Alex also stopped to see what would happen. The dinosaur turned and ran in a small circle, than stopped again. It raised its head and called the strange warble. Alex could hear the drivers of the group turning, circling around to a new direction.
They ran across a stream where eight of the small, birdlike Ricardoestesia flew out to half-glide across a pasture in panicked flight. They began squawking and yelling as they had when Alex tried kicking them by the bulldozer only a few days ago. ‘Damn things are annoying. I really don’t like them!’ Alex thought.
A furry animal ran right into him, it stood almost as high as his waist. Alex pushed down with the butt of his rifle, his hand slipped and he grabbed a handful of downy feathers as it passed by. ‘Hell, I thought that was a mammal. Guess he just wants to get out of the way.’
The dinosaurs slowed and began squawking, screeching. Alex knew exactly what was happening; the quarry was nearby. He sided over to put his back against a nearby tree and began to yell. His rifle at the ready before him. All of his senses alive to the smells, sounds and details of the palm-like scrubs around them.
A black shadow erupted from the brush to his left. It landed on a troondon, swinging it to the ground as it descended. A second troondon dove in and tried to grab it by the neck. Even as fast as the troondon were, the attacker seemed to move like liquid lightning. It swung off the fallen dinosaur and easily evaded the jaws just as a second black figure sprang from the brush alongside of Alex. The figure passed right over Alex’s shoulder, brushing him.
Alex swung his rifle up by reflex. The blow knocked the black figure off balance and wrenched Alex’s shoulder badly. The fallen troondon rose from the ground and lifted into the air. It kicked out at the black runner, narrowly missing as it rolled up and seemed to vanish into the low brush.
He didn’t dare fire for fear of hitting one of the drivers. Alex took off into the brush, desperately pursuing the fleeing animals while at the same time trying to be careful of them rising so unexpectedly from the smallest cover. Two of the troondon ran by him. They hissed and rattled in their rage like a meat grinder with a handful of ball bearings thrown in it.
Alex let out a deep throated yell to add to the drive. Brushing by a copse of trees, he passed down into a rift between two ridgelines and then cut back up to the top. When he emerged he had lost track of where he was. He could hear the drivers moving ahead and to his left. He ran down along the ridgeline for a while and then out into a swampy meadow. He cut across a small stream, watching the overgrown grass along the edges for fear that the prey might be hiding there.
Nothing. The drive seemed to be running quieter. Had they lost contact? Alex stopped for a second and listened. He could faintly hear them pushing, but they ran silently now. What is going on?
A series of five sharp calls rise from over on his left side. Alex freezes. Sweat begins to roll down from his helmet across his forehead. He dare not even wipe the burning water from his eye. Something is happening, he can feel it.
Suddenly he yelled, ‘Here they are!’ He screamed and shouted at the top of his lungs. They were behind the drive and moving in the wrong direction. Alex fired three shots and the black devils both stopped to look at him. For the first time, they could be clearly seen in the low brush of the swamp. They weren’t black, their feathers were a deep, copper colored brown. Tufts of dark feathers ran down their back from the line of their eyes. They had the three-toed foot of a Theropod. They were beautiful and deadly as sin!
He could see the intelligence and hate that filled their green eyes. They didn’t attack but turned to run on. Alex fired directly at them. Each time they managed to twist and duck just as he squeezed the trigger. But they turned! Back in the right direction.
He heard the snort behind him. He jumped and twisted in midair. Rifle ready with long trained reactions, searching for a target. Alex held his fire as three troondon lit out right by him, pursuing the two black killers, driving them onward and back into the center of the drive-line.
They were on the run, pushing ahead. Dire thoughts welled up to fill his mind. Suppose the driveline caught up with the two devils? How could the trap unfold if the devils were mixed with the driving troondon as they ran into the roadway trap? There would be no clear line of fire.
* * * * *
Corey settled down into the stone covered, loose ground of the ditch. He pushes some of the clumps of dirt up in front of him, carefully placing them to make the clump look like it was pushed there by the bulldozer several days ago. He then took loose shoots of horsetail and groundcover and lightly laid it around the area. He was careful to lay some of the shoots over the tip of his rifle, breaking its hard outline.
They wanted the dinosaurs to come in over the rough ground. The fleeing dinosaurs would slow as they crossed the densely packed underbrush pushed along the roadside just as the humans were when they first arrived. That would be the time. That would finally end the threat and they could get back to building the Station.
Anton was on his right, about sixty feet away. David had already set up a camouflaged blind on his left.
They waited with the sounds of the forest around them and an occasional breeze that flitted over from the open fields to their left, nothing to carry their scent across the killing field. There is no shade. Chirps, growls and low razzing hisses filled the air around them. Small animals scurried through the brush, pushing branches as they passed.
Sweat rolled down Corey’s neck. It tickled as the small stream of droplets sped off and down his spine. His battle-shirt allowed it to evaporate in the low breeze but there is too little breeze in the cut to be much of a help. He would not move to scratch it. He would not even brush the flies that crawled across his face or the small familiar ants on his hands. They waited.
The fallen brush in front of him moved slightly. It raised slightly into the air and then dropped down to sit still as death for a few minutes. Corey watched as a small lizard moved from limb to limb in the low cover before him. It moved to a stick near his right hand, he wondered if it would jump onto his arm. Suddenly, a long, thin bright green shape darted from the bundle of sticks. It grabbed the lizard by the head and immediately wrapped itself around the struggling victim.
In spite of himself, Corey’s arm pulled back. ‘It’s a snake.’ He thought, ‘A small one. Only about eighteen inches. Holy shit, it has tiny legs!’
Mesmerized by the drama unfolding in front of him, he lay there watching the snake devour the lizard. ‘Wow, it also has small teeth. Weird!’
A movement catches his eye. Just a shadow across the field and the snake is all but forgotten, Corey freezes, moving only his eyes. Even his eyelids are slightly closed to avoid detection by anyone coming this way. His mind forgets all the bites and annoyances. ‘What is coming? Did they drive something big? Suppose it’s a T-Rex? No way I’m gonna outrun a damn …’
A loud, grinding call erupts from the brush across the clearing and to his right. More movement, headed right for them. Thoughts raced through his mind, ‘Wait, wait. Move the rifle’s barrel over just a bit. Slowly draw a bead, don’t let them see the movement. Wait for them to come into range. Yeah, they’re nervous. You can see it in their movement. They don’t want to cross the open area. Shit but they are really smart.’
Whistles fill the brush from off in the forest. ‘The drivers! They have to do something now. Ready. There! You need a clear head shot! A little too soon. Wait!’
Moving low to the ground a dark-brown dinosaur emerges from the brush. He gracefully, silently moves across the rough-cut killing ground. Three-toed feet lift and settl
e without the clumsy foot-catching step of the earlier humans. The deadly figure is about half way across when a second killer emerges slightly to Corey’s left side. ‘Wait, let them get deep into the kill zone.’
‘Best to keep your eye on the closest one. Watch for any recognition and …’ The dinosaur suddenly ruffles it feathers. Right before his eyes, it seems to disappear. ‘No, no I can still see him. He just changed his outline and color scheme by shading those thin feathers to match the open field around …’
The killer nearest him suddenly lifts its head and leaps into the air. Three shots fire through the space in which the black killer stood just a fraction of a second before. A rush of air and it lands on the ground next to Anton. Corey charges from his hide just as Anton fires. The killer strikes with his foot but misses the prone man.
Anton swings his gun around, knocking the foot into the air. The killer falls and lands on Anton, both struggle for balance and a grip. Corey dives through the air. His mind sees the action ahead of him with a keen awareness of every sound. They seem to be moving so slowly. There, grab its neck. Can’t shoot. ‘Anton! Jam the rifle into its mouth!’ Corey flips onto its back and he can see Anton’s hands gripping the throat of the beast just inches from his own nose. No time to grab the knife, Corey straddles its back and wraps his arms around its throat, locking the jaws of the black beast, preventing them from closing around Anton.
Anton’s face flushes red with strain, his fingers a bloodless white as he digs them into the feathers and flesh. The thick tips of his fingers rip into the muscle, searching for a nerve’s pressure point just behind the jawbone. The black creature and Corey are lifted into the air by the brute force of Anton’s rage-filled strangle hold.
Corey’s senses suddenly scream. The stench he last smelled at the hut by the construction site is here again. It’s so strong, he can hardly breathe. Corey’s head is spinning.
Hunter's Moon (Cretaceous Station Book 2) Page 14