Nodal Convergence (Cretaceous Station Book 1)

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Nodal Convergence (Cretaceous Station Book 1) Page 33

by Terrence Zavecz


  His sister runs ahead, passing him. No! Can’t let her do that, only the most fleet of foot get the best meats. Only the strongest can push ahead to drive the food back to the pack and earn the sweet meats. Hurry, the food travels this way, ahead. Yes, circle around them and there they are. Their scent drips from the very leaves with strong traces of fear but no awareness of the danger. Ahead, they are here. They move on two feet like the pack but stand oddly straight. Quiet now, move as you were taught. Quickly but quietly, move around them to be ready to drive them back down the trail. Now lie still, do not breath, wait. I am ready even though her faint smell shows me she already waits for the food. Strange sounds and they come around the bend and into the trap …

  * * * * *

  Jon looked out across the cliff edge now slightly above their heads. Up further, the narrow, rock strewn trail turns then reappears ahead of them as the path climbs onto the mainland section of the plateau. ‘Will you stop blubbering? You saw for yourself, the troondon are gone and I’m sure we won’t have to go in more than a mile. There’s a clearing ahead where Alex stopped and called in. I didn’t get the whole conversation but that has to be the place where he found it.’

  ‘Suppose Dan comes back to the post. We left it wide open back there.’ Todd tended to act first and then think about what he did.

  ‘No we didn’t! The Hypes are there just inside the entrance and Dan has better things to do this morning without going back over old ground. Concentrate on what we’re doing. Shit, watch out, some of these rocks are loose.’

  ‘Look around before you jump up onto the plateau.’

  ‘Will you quit worrying. Relax, it’s a minor climb take a quick breath or so. Enjoy the view and get a quick oxygen high.’

  The trail on top of the plateau follows the edge of the sea along the upper rim of the cliff for a little and then turns in toward the palmetto scrub. Soon high ferns mixed with horsetails surround them on the trail and gradually thicken into tropic forest shading the cloudless sky. Todd takes the lead for a short run and then stops with a whisper, ‘I though you said there were no snakes yet! Look at that bastard!’

  Jon slowly, carefully walks off to the side of the trail. Up, in the trees to their side, a twenty foot, black snake with red and gold stripes sleeps peacefully after the evening hunt. The body is enormous and lies draped across two trees. ‘Guess we need to keep our eyes up in the tree…. what the Hell? Look closely at it, Todd. See, it’s holding onto a limb with tiny legs.’

  ‘Oh, that’s just weird.’ Todd says in disgust. ‘Yeah, there’s another set of legs way down it’s back. Let’s get out of here before it wakes and we begin to look like food.’

  Jon points ahead, ‘There’s a lighter area in the trees. That has got to be the clearing that Alex stopped at. Come on.’

  ‘Look over here. There’s a footprint and it ain’t no dinosaur’s. We’re on the right trail. All right, where to now? The trail splits off here and I don’t see any prints. One path goes into the field and the other into the woods. Hey, there’s a stream in the field. Don’t you always find gold in a stream?’

  ‘Well, I always hear about them panning for gold but there are gold mines too you know. Let’s check out the stream first. If there’s nothing there we’ll come back and look into the woods. The trails wide enough and should be easy to follow. Hey look, berries!’

  ‘Yech! You gonna try them? They might be poisonous.’

  Just as Jon reaches up to pick a clump of berries, a huge brown head with bright black eyes, set in a shield edged with three horns, raises above the bush. Barely a few yards apart but it feels like inches. They stare eye to eye for a few seconds. The triceratops stomps his feet on the ground and a hissing snort comes from his throat.

  ‘Oh Cheez!’ Jon shouts and races off into the bush with Todd trying to push in front of him.

  Seeing the two race off in fear, the triceratops bellows and lurches after the two fleeing invaders. Four other heads rise above the grass in front and to the side of the fleeing men.

  ‘The woods. Head back into the woods.’ Todd shouts.

  ‘No, come this way, I think the cliff is this way. They won’t follow us down the trail.’

  ‘No, no wait! Slow down I think they stopped.’

  ‘Ok, we can take it a little easier but we have to find that trail again. I vote we go back and look on the other path.’

  The low bushes to their side erupt. A black and gold mountain of feathers over muscle screeches a trilling cry that flows down into a low warble as the raptor lands on Todd. Todd swings around as the dinosaur’s leg lands on his thigh, spinning him around. Bright blue eyes in a black head with a red comb stare at him for a split, measured second and then lunge for his throat. The dinosaur is taller than Todd by more than two feet but it’s startled by the solid mass of the human and it’s strike at his head grazes to the side off of his helmet as he staggers and spins to his knee on the ground. Todd’s leg is bleeding and his turn forces his rifle into the gut of the dinosaur. The raptor’s lunge spins Todd across the pathway and into a tree.

  Starting from the low scrub cover further down the trail, a second raptor glides in for the kill. The attacker’s sudden appearance startles Jon who is now running as fast as he can. In his panic, he stumbles while trying to raise his rifle. The raptor leaps into the air landing on Jon as he twists to regain his balance, missing him but still knocking him to the ground. Twisting wildly past Jon, the dinosaur looks up to see another target struggling before him. Instinct instantly carries the raptor into another killing lunge. The leap catches Todd by the shoulder as he attempts to rise onto his feet. Massive jaws filled with razor sharp teeth close on Todd’s instantly hardened armor in a grip designed to slice through bones. The raptor pulls back to flip its head in a spine snapping twist but the unexpected weight, strength and solid mass of the small figure throws him off balance.

  Todd screams and flails his arms as he tries to grab for the eyes of the dinosaur. Dark shadows descend as a second set of jaws close over his head. Razor sharp teeth bite into his battle helmet, stopped by the armor. Then they twist and pull, trying to wrestle the prey away from the other raptor. Todd’s screams abruptly stop as a geyser of hot blood flies across the clearing. Todd’s screams carry through the low trees and brush. Like a clarion bell, they ring in the ears of a fleeing figure, exploding his fear into a panic stricken flight down toward the ocean cliffs.

  Back at the kill-site, the dinosaur finally gains her feet and shakes the heavy, headless body in frustration. She throws it to the ground and stomps a claw tipped foot onto it while she lifts her head in a victory scream that rises higher to climb the octaves above those capable of the human ear. Then she turns to crack this hard shell for the soft meat.

  The male raptor rises in anger and disgust as he spits the hard victim’s head into the weeds. The panic-stricken flight of the creature on the path below him draws his sharp eyes. His breath quickens as he feels the thrill of fleeing prey, wildly running ahead in panic! With a leap he runs, crashing through bush and trees. His attack is swift, silent but for his occasional passing against the low growth. The prey is faster and more agile than expected. The trail narrows and then opens by the big pond. Down, over the edge it disappears but the musky scent of fear fills the path. A trail, he sees a trail over the side and it is easy enough to follow. He is closer now. Around the bend on the narrow trail he sees that the prey has a hole ahead but he can reach it first.

  Jon hears the stones scattering down the cliffside as the killer closes behind him. Todd’s sharply cut off scream still echo’s in his head dulling his brain with blind fear. A stab of anger fills Jon’s heart with a lucent thought, ‘That stupid jerk should have shot the damn things, now look at the mess! If I can get to the tunnel, the Hypes will help.’ Then some instinct or perhaps a shadow turns his head. A massive black shape is flying down the narrow trail towards him. He stumbles on the loose-stone covered pathway and half-turns to bring his rifle
to bear as the raptor slams into his body. They crash and roll against the cliff, stones dig into Jon’s thighs and his hands are pinned between his chest and the raptor.

  An AutoSentinel pulls toward the movement. Sets its aim on the approaching threat. Tracking algorithms link onto a shape it cannot identify. The algorithm considers the potentials for target type and threat level. Target identification is not complete, an unknown. Probability curves override the identification and suggest a firing solution. Then an automated identification from Jon’s Hive-Tab cancels the command and an instant later two massive bodies roll onto the gun. The tripod legs tangle with thrashing claws, ripping them from the quickly set mounts as a clawed foot swings up to strike at its victim. The gunmetal bends, rips loose and flies bouncing into the cliff. It’s mass carrying it bouncing across the loose sand to skid and rebound over the edge.

  Screams, cries and wails of the killing carry through the high plateau to mingle with the adrenalin-laden smell of the chase. Hyper-sensitive ears and scent glands pick up the hot scents and sounds filling the air and clinging to the near brush. A dozen young bodies, already tensed by the hunt, spring into the chase as they scream their new actions to the elders. In twos and threes, they pass down the scent trail and out onto the cliff. They can see the struggle on the narrow trail ahead of them and the smell of fresh blood is carried landward by the flow of air streaming from the tunnel behind the combatants.

  The first two fly up the trail and ignore the tunnel entrance, the rolling, thrashing battle before them is too tempting to pass. They grab onto the screaming hard figure, teeth slipping across a hardened shell gain purchase on the soft meat at its edges and on the exposed limbs. Ripping and tearing frantically, their excitement feeds into frenzy by the ever-rising screams of the victim and fresh blood. Their hearts pound blood through their bones forcing super enriched oxygen into their hot bodies. Their bodies scream, a molten blaze of excitement fired by the scents of the struggle, the screams and smell of blood. Frustrated by the hard shell and helmet, the three attacker’s frenzy grows as the victim’s screams urge them on to pull and rip soft arms and legs from the struggling prey and then the screams fade to a low whimpering and then silence.

  Two heads emerge from the tunnel entrance just as three more raptors charge up the trail. The raptors immediately leap onto the familiar prey. The blood of the raptors boils with the scents and smells saturating the tunnel’s entrance. Surprise carries them inside. The fury of the massive feathered bodies rolls over the stunned Hype guards, adding to the scents of battle and frenzied feeding.

  Over a dozen fast, lithe juvenile bodies charge into the tunnels. The tight passages open into chambers filled with panic-stricken food. Too many to catch. No time to stop and eat. Instincts bred by millions of years of evolution take control and override the rising frenzy of battle. Wound, terrorize and drive the prey. Drive the prey onward and pack them together. Force them up and back. Herd them into the killing ground that waits in the ambush of the stronger, massive adults of the pack.

  The tunnels and echoes confuse the cries of the drive. There is no clear direction to drive the food except to drive them back. Without clear direction from the elders, more and more young raptors flood in to push down from chamber to chamber. Eventually they follow the prey outside into the sunlight of the far end of the plateau. The bright sun reflects off the big pond surrounding them now and the prey flees in toward the mainland. Their blind retreat carries them down a path toward the waiting elders. Instinctively the young raptors spread out and push their prey ahead of them. Control returns to the drive as the calls of the young warriors communicate their positions and the high calls of the adults reply. The adult’s cries rise from the distant mainland. ‘Push! Push this way! No need to hurry! Control your drive, watch your pack brothers and sisters.’

  At the plateau’s main gate, a pack of thirty or more raptors flow silently through the underbrush. For many of them this is the first year they run with the elders. They watch the older ones for direction and listen closely to their calls and learn.

  Suddenly the calls of the young hunters change. The cries are clearer and carry far over the open ground ahead. The young adults remember the sea from seasons past. This has always been a good feeding ground. This year they have broken into the tunnels, the calls are plain and clear on the far side of the plateau. The kill will be very good. Anticipation fills their bodies but instinct holds them back to stay with the old ones.

  As a disciplined group, the body of elders swings around to meet the calls of the drive as it comes around, up from the tunnels and out onto the plateau’s far edge. Eagle-sharp eyes see the forming edge of the distant drive ahead. The young ones are herding the food this way into a compact killing ground. The scent of prey, fearful and on the run fills the air. However, there is something else here. A smooth, thick heavy scent permeates the thin neck of land ahead.

  It is his first year with the elders and he hesitates for a moment as strange, sharp notes pierce the air. Flashes of light fill the day with strangeness and smoke. Then somehow new cries of anger and pain rise from the elders ahead. Ahead of him he see two young adults and an elder fall, the smell of their blood flows across the ground but there is no attacker to be seen. Then a sharp pain rips through his side and blind fury rises within him. His cries of rage charge the unknown. All caution and control slips away and the fury of battle draws over him as he joins the others in a mad dash to meet the young drivers ahead and begin the kill.

  * * * * *

  Alex was rubbing salve onto Molly’s back as Tom put his shirt back on. ‘Hell, I look at it this way. We get a really nice bonus in pay and we don’t have to worry about sneaking all that stuff back to civilization.’

  Molly’s eyes were closed as he rubbed in the ointment, ‘Yeah, thank you Alex, that feels great. The Doc was right, this stopped the pain and itching. I must admit I was getting worried about the rash and even I was thinking about going to the infirmary…’

  Three Hypes almost flew by outside, their panicked and incoherent screeches carrying through Alex’s condominium window. Whistles and shouts began to fill the air. The calls rising to crash with the low, strangely warbling steam-whistle blasts now recognized by all at the Station as a cry of a major predator. Alex rushed to his gun locker and grabbed his gear as Molly and Tom, armed only with handguns, scrambled out to the weapon boxes in their condos.

  The command net is busy with controlled, short status reports. Dan Drake is coordinating on the net, ‘A pack or twenty or more, T-Rex giants are charging the defenses at the front gate. There is potential for a breakthrough. Defensive position, internal formations all.’

  Hypes scurry in panic around them as Molly, Tom and Alex move out into the roadway. Some run with their eyes rolled back into the heads, blinded by the fear and cries behind them. Others are running injured, blood running down their sides and backs and they add to the sheer terror of the fleeing families. Tom shouts, ‘Something is wrong here. These guys aren’t running from the front gate, they are running toward it.’ Alex calls on the general channel as he uses hand signals to motion Tom and Molly onto higher ground, ‘Warning, potential threat is rising at the east end of the plateau. Look to the east cliffs as well as the western gate.’

  As they run to the high crest behind their condominiums, Alex notices a closer, deadlier threat. He immediately sounds the warning, ‘A line of small T-Rex like predators is driving steadily onto the plateau center from the east. The raptors aren’t attacking independently. They are moving like big game hunters in a controlled push towards the plateau west entrance.’

  Some of these raptors are even smaller than an adult Hype. Tom pulls up beside Alex, ‘These guys aren’t T-Rex’s Alex. Look at their colors. They don’t even walk the way the juvenile T-Rex’s we’ve seen so far.’

  The raptors push their attack, as furious as any Blackbird’s frenzied feeding but controlled, coordinated and deadlier. Some of the Hypes attack the line,
clearly outclassed by the powerful jaws and ripping claws of the driving raptors they are killed or simply mangled and allowed to flee. Tom, Molly and Alex form on the high knoll and prepare to fire just as they hear heaving weapons firing off to the north of them. The battle is rising on all three sides along the major pathways toward the Argos and the main community centers for Cretaceous Station.

  Tom calls the firing order. ‘Target the raptors that are the most closely bunched.’ As the attackers began to fall, confusion locally disrupts the push. Many of the Hypes and now fleeing humans see the opportunity and run onward toward the hopeful safety of the compound center. Molly turns her binoculars westward and sees the Common Building’s doors flung wide open. Mary Li is standing outside, a large spatula in her hand and her apron held high in the air. She is directing and pushing Hypes and humans into the safety of the building. Jenn, Wei and Barbara Young are at the other door grabbing some of the Hype chicks and children. Pushing, even throwing them into the hopeful safety of the building.

  Partially hidden by the bushes down the pathway from the building, Tom can see two seven-foot tall, black bodies with high orange combs approaching. The raptors will see the Young’s in a second. A third black-feathered attacker, with almost no comb at all, has just broken into the clearing and she stops. A surprised fourteen-year-old Jenn Young turns to face her. To her credit, Jenn stands and calmly draws the mandatory pistol that she has practiced with so hard. The weapon shakes nervously in her hand as she raises it to fire.

  Before Jenn can fire, Tom swings his rifle around and fires two shots to the chest and a third in the head of the raptor nearest Jenn Young. Swinging her rifle with a smooth easy grace, Molly drops the two males just as they rise over the small mound behind Jenn. Targets of opportunity began to rise all around them as the doors close on the Community Center now protecting many of the Hype and human families of the Station.

 

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