Hunter's Moon (Cretaceous Station Book 2)

by Terrence Zavecz

  ‘Cheez Corey, that’s an image I didn’t need flitting through my brain. Now cut the chatter and let’s get set up. You should know the drill by now.’

  Corey moved off the path into the brush, he took his steps carefully in these rough areas. The ground covering is just too thick to move quickly. The air is filled with insects and they buzz around him as he disturbs them in his passage.

  ‘It’s times like this that I’m glad to be fully covered, helmet to boots. Hotter than I’d like but better than getting all bit up. What the …?’ Corey reaches down onto his leg and lifts his pants. ‘Yech, another tick! I really hate you guys. At least you didn’t get a chance to sink in.’

  Suddenly a massive log before him rises into the air. Corey stops in surprise and takes a step to the side. The long thin log transforms into a body with two glaring eyes that rise to just above the level of his waist. It screams a high screech like a bearing going bad followed by three loud whelps and then turns to run off into the brush. As it turns, a long thin tail flicks out knocking Corey back into a scrub palm.

  ‘Corey, are you ok?’ Tom calls on the net.

  ‘I will always, I will always wear my hot, sweating, all covering armor out in the brush Tom. Aside from almost having a heart attack, yes, I’m ok. Just scared up a small dino, but he was more interested in leaving than trying to have lunch. His tail did give me quite a whack.’

  ‘Cut the chatter. Pay attention to the job.’ Alex calls.

  ‘They can’t hear us on the Hive-Tab Alex.’

  ‘You lose focus on the job and you could be dead real soon. Now settle or leave.’

  * * * * *

  Shadows slowly lengthen across the clearing signaling the sun’s approach to the end of its daily trek. Golden highlights illuminate the distant mountain peaks of the west casting a soft irradiance of gold and red pastels across the landscape. The alien voice of humans carries faintly across the flattened plain of the peninsula mixing strangely with the birdlike song normally filling the air at this time each day. Their sharp commands dulled by the expanse of the open sea behind them and the soft crash of the surf at the foot of the cliffs below.

  A Hunter Recon vehicle hovers silently just over the mainland. Its sensors track enhanced images of the push across the plateau, broadcasting the images and information across the Hive-Tab net. Bright lights flicker and flash inside the tight brushwork of the plateau. Sporadic, tight-white beams sear into the darkened, deep blue sky and then swing down into the brush. Occasional small explosions fill the air like Chinese firecrackers flung in a long line across the face of the plateau, their flaring brilliance randomly erupting from any growth pockets too dense for the drivers to pass through.

  Small animals flee before the push, flying erratically into the air, their screams and whistles blending into the cacophony of sounds. Others escape across the field, skipping before the line of humans with the strange gliding gate characteristic of their species. They cry a tortured warbled song as they flee from the disturbance, a rhapsody that falls and lifts to octaves beyond the range of human hearing. Some calls mimic the yells of the drivers, attempting to add confusion and discordance to those disturbing their evening. Others simply scream defiance or terror.

  ‘Brian, Bob! Push forward a little harder.’ Seth Sassaman calls across the net from his high vantage point in the Hunter. ‘See if you can pull in the ends of the line and form a cup. We need to force them into the main gate area. You’ll need to watch the middle area ahead of you. The center is coming up on that dense thicket and swampy area. The line is bound to slow down going through there. Don’t break the line!’

  Sudden shouts rise from the south end of the plateau. A man is down. Seth quickly reviews the data gathered by the victim’s Hive Tab, it flew out of the bushes just in front. ‘Shit! He’s hurt!’ Seth calls in the second line of pushers, ‘Susan, pull ahead and check on Richard. Ed take his place in the front.’

  Hive Tab transmissions from the pushers show dark, man-sized figures running ahead of the group. They swing in toward the center of the plateau.

  ‘Keep your line in order, drive them don’t chase them! Let the little ones get back through the line.’ Seth calls.

  Seth’s wall display bends the photon avalanche gathered from the area where the runners are spotted. It refracts and extrapolates the real-time wavefronts to provide a magnified, broad-spectrum image of the area. He spots the movement and keys it into the system. Identification routines gather multiple images of the runners. A leg here, a portion of the head there with the blurring removed. A fraction of a second and a full clear video of the beast is rendered clearly before him.

  ‘False alarm guys! That’s not one of our bad guys. There’s a half dozen of the “Talos” troondon relatives ahead of you. They are not the two we are looking for but they can be nasty.

  Seth returns to the data coming from the injured man and calls an update over to Dan. ‘Great! He’s back on line. Looks like a scratch across his forehead and the back of his hand where the armor doesn’t cover. Should be looked at but I’m not going to pull him off the line for that. All five ambush teams are in place and ready now. Things should start getting a little more interesting as they bunch up at the fence line.’

  ‘Watch out on the south side, that’s where we last spotted them. Everyone, pick up the pace!’

  Shots fired! A black, ghostly figure that seemed to fade in and out of existence suddenly appeared in front of the line. It viciously jumps, grabbing the nearest hunter, picking him up and shaking him savagely. The man screams, a foul curse rising from his lips but the raptor could not reach the head or jaws of his victim. The helpless man is flung back and forth like a rag doll and then lay quiet. The black ghost runs off into the dense brush, carrying the dead-weight of the human. Two drivers on the line simply stare at the brute as he runs by with the security man in its jaws. They are shaken, surprised by the absolute, sudden savage apparition of the dinosaur.

  Seth screams at them. ‘Center of the line, move forward rapidly. Remember there are two of them!’

  They push ahead twenty, thirty yards and then they found him. The body lay still on the ground. It had been flung viciously across a log and bush like a rag doll. Richard, still smarting from his beating calls up to Seth as he walks by, ‘Hey, I just heard him groan.’

  ‘Keep in line Rich!’ Seth returned. ‘Let the second line handle it.’

  ‘He’s alive but unconscious Seth.’ Susan returned. ‘Oh shoot, I think his shoulder is dislocated. Can’t tell from the scanner.’

  ‘Don’t touch him. There’s a med team moving in. The ArmorAll should have protected him from most of the damage but it can’t do anything when you’re shaken like that. He could have neck and head injuries. Stay and watch him. Guess he was too heavy to carry very far.’

  ‘I can hear them ahead of us. They’re pushing out toward the south cliff edge again.’

  ‘Pull up! Pull the ends of the line up! Careful, watch where you step. Don’t let them get around you!’

  They pushed on for another five minutes without seeing the dinosaurs. Darkness is fast descending.

  ‘Bright eyed and bushy tailed now! We’ve got a lot of animals running in front of you guys, be on your toes. Watch your buddies!’

  Firing erupted briefly from the southern-most ambush position. ‘Weapons fire. South end of line!’

  ‘Amber-1. Sighted target but they knew we were here. Target pulled south.’

  ‘Target sighted. Gone before we could react.’

  ‘What do you mean gone Francis?’ Dan called into the line report. ‘Report properly.’

  ‘They disappeared, sir. We spotted their push through the brush. They took off away from Amber-1’s position and went over the edge of the cliff.’

  ‘Look below on the cliff trail Francis. Amber-c1, be aware target may be on cliff trail.’

  ‘Rodger.’

  ‘They are gone sir.’ Francis called back. ‘They didn’t land on
the cliff trail. They dropped into the ocean.’

  ‘You mean they fell into the ocean.’

  ‘Well, they sort of glided in sir. They are gone. I last saw them swimming to the mainland by the mouth of the river.’

  ‘Seth, can you confirm that report by the sensors.’

  ‘Aye sir. They lit out and I lost them in the surf by the shore. No sign of their getting out of the water, maybe the fish got ‘em.’

  ‘Well now we don’t know if they survived or not. That’s a fine kettle of fish. All right, let’s call in the pushers and the ambush squads. All but Amber 2 and 3 that is, have them set up for the night on this side of the fence, bracketing the entrance.’

  References

  1. Rajendra D. Badgaiyan, “Conscious Awareness and the Brain Processing”, Elements 3(3):8-12, 2005

  2. Sebastián Apesteguía & Hussam Zaher, “A Cretaceous terrestrial snake with robust hindlimbs and a sacrum”, Nature 440, 1037-1040 (20 April 2006) | doi:10.1038/nature04413; Received 22 August 2005; Accepted 9 November 2005

  3. “Blue skies, red-hot temps in Cretaceous”, GeoTimes Earth, Energy and Environmental News, April 2008 http://www.agiweb.org/geotimes/apr08/article.html?id=WebExtra041008.html

  4. Landis, G.P., and Snee, L.W., 1991, 40Ar/39Ar Systematics and argon diffusion in Amber; implications for ancient earth atmospheres: in Kump, L.R., Kasting, J.F., Robinson, J.M., Atmospheric oxygen variation through geologic time. Global and Planetary Change. v. 5, p.63-67.

  5. Ryan C. McKellar, Brian D. E. Chatterton, Alexander P. Wolfe, Philip J. Currie, “A Diverse Assemblage of Late Cretaceous Dinosaur and Bird Feathers from Canadian Amber.” Science, Vol. 333 Issue 6049, September 16, 2011.

  6. Mark A. Norell , “Fossilized Feathers.” Science, Vol. 333 Issue 6049, September 16, 2011.

  7. "Stray Japan parrot talks way home". BBC News. 2008-05-22. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7414846.stm. Retrieved 2010-04-23.

  8. Pepperberg, Irene (2002): The Alex Studies: cognitive and communicative abilities of grey parrots. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts & London. ISBN 0-674-00806-5

  Cloudless blue skies and low rainfall appears to have been a strong characteristic of the earth for the hundred million years of passage through the Cretaceous era. There’s strong evidence that the solar system traveled between arms of the galaxy. This resulted in very low levels of cosmic radiation. Cosmic radiation levels are known to have a strong influence on cloud formation and air turbulence. This is part of the reason for the uniformity in global temperature for the period.

  Sixty five or so million years ago the earth enjoyed relatively uniform temperatures even up to the polar areas. The world had been slowly cooling for the last 100 million years. The Late Cretaceous period is a time of global warmth with equatorial temperatures similar to the Earth with which we are familiar. Tropical vegetation extended all the way to 50 degrees north and south of the equator. That would be right up into lower Canada or southern Germany in today’s world.

  Chapter 7 : Conflict

  “Courage isn't having the strength to go on - it is going on when you don't have strength”

  Napoleon Bonaparte

  Something is crawling across his neck. It tickles and yet pinches its way across his bare skin. One small part of his brain considers it an almost blessed distraction, a break from the boredom. What is it? Maybe it’s nothing but a drop of sweat brought on by the hot air under these bushes.

  Wait just a little … no. It’s not sweat, that small pinch gave it away. Small but nonetheless a distraction that he can’t afford. What actions can he take? He can’t move! Any movement will give away their position and all their efforts and strain would be for nothing. Perhaps, if it just moves a little more he can crush it against the back of his helmet before it really sinks its teeth in. Yes, that’s it, move just a little more and a simple tightening of his neck …

  Corey Zavtek waited for the right moment and then flexed his shoulder and head ever so slightly. He then returned to his silent vigil in the pit. Another part of his mind dwelled for a few seconds on the fact that he missed not having Buddy here. Alex sent the Hype back to the plateau when they were told to set up the ambush here, outside of the security fencing. Guess the Hypes don’t do well on the long, boring and motionless waits that went with an ambush assignment.

  Dan called back the other ambush teams that had set up inside the fence two hours ago but his squad had received no instructions. They heard the noise in the brush ahead of them just before the recall and Tom spotted one of the black ghosts approach the tunnel entrance. He had sniffed the ground and then taken off toward the cliffs. He knew the dinos hadn’t spotted Amber-1 over on the other side, something else at the tunnel entrance spooked them.

  They waited silently since then. The cries of the thin, primitive jungle surround them. The air around them cooled with the slow passing of the sun but Corey sweated in the high humidity of the cooler air. The ArmorAll shielded and shunted almost all of his body heat through the outlet below his left foot as part of the enhanced infrared suppression. Sweat from his face, neck and hands rolled down into his shirt. It sure seemed that brief exposure of his body fluids was enough to attract every single biting insect in the woods to the salt-filled liquid.

  Soft padding on the floor of the jungle alerted him. He slowly, ever so slightly turned his head to the right. Corey could see nothing.

  The low sound of a rustle of grass briefly carried below the night cries of the jungle. It was enough to quicken his pulse but nothing followed the sound. Something was out there, moving cautiously, slowly through the dense undergrowth. If it was them, then why had they circled back toward the tunnel? It didn’t make sense.

  It could be a troondon hunting party. No, they didn’t hunt with stealth. Maybe something just bedded down for the night.

  He saw it or rather he saw its faint shadow move as cast in the pale light of the gibbous moon. It stood over the clearing’s edge for a second, enough time to have the shadow flit across the open entrance of the tunnel. Any sounds now coming from its stealthy passage are drowned out by the cries of the jungle around him.

  There, another brief indication. A small change that would have been too subtle for anyone who had not been bored enough by the long wait to examine every detail of the woods around him. The dead, decaying log, about thirty feet away, swarmed with luminescent beetles feeding on the soft pulp. He had watched using the naturally highly sensitive indirect sensors at the edge of his eyes. Staring strangely at a point to the side, his brain focused on the bugs for a long time, mesmerized by their winding dance across and into its surface. It had been a challenge, almost hypnotic in nature.

  That image is now partly blocked, obscured as … Wait, it just moved, no more than a twitch. Nothing registered on the enhancers of his helmet but his eyes could see it.

  ‘Alex, I can see a piece of one of the target’s legs.’ Corey hadn’t moved a muscle and his call went silently out across the team’s Hive-Tab net. ‘Request permission to fire.’

  ‘Take the shot …’ Alex began.

  The image disappeared from his view before Alex could finish. A quiet rustle in the brush behind Alex is followed by the brief, quickly fading sound of soft padding.

  ‘Shit, they moved out. Quick, let’s head out, I want to track them down.’

  ‘How the hell are you going to track them. I couldn’t even see them.’ Tom called over silently as he emerged onto the trail.

  ‘Here, I’ve got tracks over here where Corey spotted them. Move easy, we don’t want to spook them. They’ve gotta settle down sometime and for now they think they are safe.’

  ‘Keep moving Alex, right behind you.’ Corey called over.

  ‘I’ve got tail-end-charlie.’ Tom called

  The ambush turned from hours of waiting in silence to hot tracking. They know the black ghosts are ahead of them but they don’t know exactly where. They couldn’t see them but they could follow. A piece o
f moss pushed out of place, visible only in the enhanced images of their helmet. A folded leaf or shallow print in the dry dust. The trail subtly covered with the faint but unmistakable skunk-like, ammonia-tinged odor calling to their senses.

  They pushed across the forest, suddenly dense bushes formed indicating the edges of a clearing. Fear of walking into a sudden trap sat in the back of their minds as they pushed ahead on the track. The three hunters moved silently in the slow chase. Emerging into the dimly moon-lit grassland felt like they had crossed into a star-studded ballroom. Even the brilliance of the nearly full-moon did little to diminish the broad grandeur of the star studded firmament of this timeframe.

  All around them the sun-fern and primitive grass lay in clumps raised on knee high mounds of growth. They had to move their legs around each solid clump of grass as they crossed the chest-high field of sharp palmetto and primitive grass. Alex began to worry, the ground on the bottom of the clumps was getting moist and they would have a hard time moving quietly if the trail didn’t soon turn dryer.

  The sounds around them changed subtly from those of the forest into the low buzzing and calling of thousands of insects. It is a sound oddly familiar to the hunters, a voice of the evening heard unchanged even in their home timeframe. Suddenly the background aural curtain is pushed aside by the deep threshing flow of air from some huge leather bellows.

  ‘Oh shit, watch your step these crazy bastards are moving right through the triceratops herd.’ Alex silently called on the net. They moved ahead, the air around them sounding like the deep pull of massive leather bellows. Sky-obscuring dark mounds of flesh rise up around them. Their dim, creased bodies flickering strangely shaped feathers as they slumbered unaware of the humans passing. Three members of the herd are awake and vigilant up ahead, slowly munching on grass and regularly lifting their heads to monitor the pampas surrounding the herd for threats.