She recoiled as the glass cut into the soft tissue inside her mouth. The bitter powder robbed her of breath and she was, for just an instant, wounded. Aisling peered around the mound and watched the beast backing up. She felt the first glimmer of hope in longer than she could recall but it vanished when the enraged beast turned to look her dead in the eye.
Angered and wounded, the beast seemed to lose interest in John and returned to the source of that scent. John seized the opportunity to snap up the shotgun and run to taunt the beast again. It was still intent on seeking out Aisling and turned to snap at him. It was not to be deterred and merely wanted John out of the way.
Aisling peered again from the right side of the mound. The silence was terrifying but she had to know. Daring to lean out, she saw the massive head looming from ten feet away. It tasted the air. The egg sent was strong on Aisling but it knew she was no egg. She was, by the timeless rules of nature, a predator. It took a breath, measured her up, and then lunged.
Just as it moved on her, the ples was struck soundly across her muzzle by the steel barrel of the empty shotgun. She pulled back, stung, and looked again to see John standing defiantly between her and Aisling. He clutched the case by the nylon straps inside and held it like a shield as he drew the battle line.
It wanted the girl, the scent, but John stood between them. He held his silver shield with one hand to fend off the savage teeth while he swung defiantly at it with his metal weapon. Aisling peered out, forgetting the pain in her leg as she witnessed a sight she could scarcely believe. She did not see a doctor trapped and struggling to survive. She saw a courageous knight laying down his life to defend her. He would need magic to slay this Kraken.
She tried to sneak around to the other side of the mound to escape but moving was incredibly painful. She dragged her bleeding limb around but she knew running was out of the question. Then she saw one of MacKenzie’s severed legs. In the pocket, she saw the round, brassy end of a shotgun shell. Ammunition! She looked back to see John still embattling the beast as it parried and thrust at the resilient case.
It lowered its head as if trying to drive under the shield but John swung downward and struck her between the eyes with the barrel hard enough to send her back reeling. Now she was angry. As emotionless as reptiles are, there was genuine rage in her eyes as she leered at the puny human. John knew she’d get past the case sooner or later.
“John!” Aisling called from behind him holding the last shell. “Ammo!” She knew that getting it to him was almost as difficult as him putting it in the gun. “Ammo!”
John took a quick look back. The sight of the shell was enticing but he needed help. He saw terror in Aisling’s eyes just as the case was struck with greater force. He was thrown to the ground but quickly scrambled to his feet. Holding the case up he cracked the gun open and reached it back to her. “Put it in!”
She reached out and nearly had the shell inside the chamber when the beast came over John to try again to get her. Using its height to attack her it lunged directly over John’s head. He instinctively swung at the beast’s throat with the shotgun. The wooden butt caught her fleshy neck and she again dropped on him. John blocked with his aluminum shield and swatted her with the gun.
Once again the monster recoiled but remained in striking distance. John braced himself and looked at the shotgun. The shell was trapped partially in the chamber. When he hit the ples, the end of the shell was bitten off. He hurriedly opened the gun and tried to load it but the buckshot poured from the broken plastic housing. The intact shell was unlikely to be enough to kill the beast but it might have repelled her. Now it was the equivalent of a giant starter pistol. There was nothing left of the shell but the firing pin and the powder.
He had nothing left to fight with but hope, and all but none of that. The animal raised its head too high for John to reach and looked over the top of the mound. Aisling fell to the ground and lay as flat as she possibly could. It could see her there and hissed its rage. John had only one shot and he was on the verge of missing it. He stood and ran to the top of the mound and faced the beast, confident it would snap at anyone daring to stand on its nest. He was stunned to see that instead of attacking in defense the beast merely stared back at him as if puzzled by the audacity of the gesture. He waved the case and shouted, taunting the beast, but it refused to strike. It looked at him as if thinking “Is this puny human insane? What is its plan?” To John’s bewilderment, the ples actually began to back away as if bluffed into retreat. It slithered backward in its clumsy, waddling manner, never taking its piercing eyes off John.
He followed cautiously, keeping the titanium case held up to his nose and the shotgun at the ready. Step by step they eased back toward the water. Like a lion tamer with his whip and chair, the comparatively weak man controlled the fiercer beast with bluff and posture. But this beast was not likely to have the intelligence of a lion, which made it so much more dangerous. At its worst, it acted on base instinct. The ples kept its long neck recoiled and the head cocked, making it deceptively close to striking distance.
John walked slowly toward it, step by step, and the dinosaur backed up, keeping its distance though ever coiled to strike. Little by little, John inched down from the mound with the maker ever watchful until he took his trailing foot off the animal’s nest.
As if that had been the goal, the beast suddenly stopped and the cold, emotionless eyes refocused on the selected target of John’s torso. With a second of still hesitation that betrayed her intent, the beast lunged at him with greater force than any attack so far. Its mouth was closed as though it intended to head-butt him and the impact of the mighty reptilian skull against the case knocked John tumbling over. Aisling saw him fall and started to move to his aid.
“Stay back!” he ordered her as he scrambled to regain his defense.
Aisling looked at the beast. It was totally focused on John. “No. I think I’ll die a better death.” She started to go to him.
“I can make it! Stay back!” Scrambling to his feet, John anticipated the next move as the creature lunged again, fangs first at him. It was as if it was gleaning a tortoise from its shell but tortoises rarely jump back in and they never carry a .12 gage shotgun. John did and he thrust the gleaming barrel of the broken gun out and against the roof of the reptile’s fleshy mouth. The stock was gone but the trigger housing remained intact and John squeezed with a prayer that was answered when the shell discharged into the beast’s gaping mouth.
The gunfire was enough to recoil the beast though John’s forceful thrust sent him rolling forward. He had only enough time to right himself before the ples raised its head in shock. Its broad chest convulsed and it seemed to belch as flames burst from its mouth. It roared in agony as the white-hot inferno cooked it from within. The shotgun’s discharge was enough to ignite the flash powder that was well inside it now. Mad with pain it tried once more to attack, turning its head and the roaring flames to its prey. John again shielded himself with the case.
Aisling dared look again and saw a fire-breathing dragon bellowing its fury upon her desperate protector. John crouched beneath the indestructible case as flames showered down around him. The fire had all but consumed the beast but it refused to succumb. Aisling stared in disbelief as the dragon raised its head, flames now spewing from its eye sockets as well as its gaping mouth. She saw her knight dare to stand before it and deliver a desperate swipe with the gleaming sword. The blunt weapon pierced the creature’s now paper-thin hide and fire exploded from inside, driving John back again.
Finally the remains of the monster, dead long before, fell to the rocks next to John. It crumbled into ash and fell apart on impact. The flash powder, despite having had time to disburse through much of the behemoth’s insides, had done exactly what it was made to do. There was nothing left but a tail and back fins that slipped unceremoniously into the murky water.
Emotionally and physically drained, John stood within inches of the charred remains of his lifelong
quest. Frank’s incredibly effective powder left nothing discernable of the elusive creature. He wanted to sit. He wanted to drop to his knees and weep for the unfathomable loss. But he stood, refusing to allow any emotion to enter, as the only emotion logically looming would surely drive him mad.
Aisling stabilized herself by leaning against the mound as she came around. She knew he could hear her. She begged her thoughts for the words that would bring him back to a conscious sense. The sting in her bleeding leg returned to join the dull ache but she overcame it to limp to his side. Taking his arm, she joined him in paying silent homage to the lost treasure.
“It’s gone. The sole reason for my existence for longer than I can remember, and I incinerated it.”
“You did what you had to do.”
“There had to be another way. All I wanted to do was record it. Prove it existed. But instead I destroyed any hope of it.”
“John. Anyone else would have been dead out at sea. No one else could have made it this far. We’d be dead… I’d be dead now if it weren’t for you.” He had no response. He offered not even enough body language to assure her she was heard or understood. “You saved my life, John. Tell me that’s worth nothing to you. You just battled a fire-breathing dragon to rescue me. Isn’t that what all men secretly want? I know it’s what all women secretly wish for. I’ve never heard of it actually happening. No matter what comes of this for either of us, I’ll never forget that.”
The left corner of his mouth curled upward by the slightest of degrees. “Yeah. I guess that was kind of heroic of me.” He looked down at her and allowed his smile to complete. “Wasn’t it?”
“Don’t overplay your hand, Saint George. We’re still trapped underground, sure we are.”
“Oh yeah. There is that.” John calmly looked around the darkness. The walls were black and wet. The shale ledge they stood on was the larger of two at this precarious level. The other ledge was shrouded by shadows and no more than ten feet wide at the widest point.
Aisling’s leg throbbed with pain. “Whatever you’re doing will be pointless if I bleed to death waiting for it, doctor.”
Reminded of his priorities, John knelt next to her to examine her leg. He tore her pant leg at the seam to expose the spot where she had been shot. Then he tore the sleeve from his shirt and dabbed away the blood to get a better look at the wound. The birdshot had torn away tiny pieces of flesh from her thigh and calf. The injury was more painful than lethal and the bleeding had almost stopped. He considered using the sleeve as a temporary bandage but it was drenched with seawater and filthy from his battle with the sea monster. He decided it would likely do her more harm than good for him to wrap her wound with the cloth. From his position, he looked around, scanning the cave with a heightened sense of urgency.
“We need to get out of here soon.”
“Well we sure can’t go the way we came.”
Suddenly he looked again at her leg. Then he looked across to the narrow ledge. “MacKenzie got in here somehow.”
Aisling was quick on the uptake. “Aye. And hardly any of the locals around here own submarines.”
“If I can find a way out of here, will you walk?”
“If you find the way out, I will dance.”
“Just once. A straight answer is all I ask. Can you walk, Aisling?”
“A little. I’ll make it.”
“Come on. We need to get over there.” He helped her to the water’s edge. They had to swim the short distance across but once there and seeing the ledge from a different angle, John instantly spotted the tunnel MacKenzie had used to descend into the lair. It was hidden by rocks and shadows and seemed to go up at a dangerously steep angle.
He thought again of her leg. “This is going to be a tough climb. Maybe you’d better wait here. I’ll come back with help.”
“I dinnae think so, pal.” She hobbled to the mouth of the tunnel and started climbing as if the pain in her leg was completely irrelevant. John watched her with a combination of admiration and shame. He was finding it increasingly difficult to move due to the onset of sheer exhaustion. He doubted he could make this climb had he her injuries. He went in and hurried to keep up with her as they ascended toward the light.
The turns and natural debris in the small tunnel shielded most of the light. But with each turn they found more light and fresher air. With each new breath their strength and conviction were reaffirmed.
The lush, green mountainsides were as much a part of the legendary beauty of the highlands as was the tranquil lake. The landscape seemed untouched by the presence of man. The rock was fifty feet above the waterline and well back of the loch. It was overgrown with the mountain flora. From beneath it, a feminine hand rose and grasped it. Aisling pulled herself up to sit on the rock and help John climb out. They both peered out across the scenic, panoramic view of Scotland. The overcast evening gave a tranquil sense of safety.
Aisling was first to dare rejoice. Trusting at last the realization that they had survived, she began laughing compulsively. John turned to her and joined in, taking her in an embrace he’d thought he’d felt the last of.
As he held her, they heard the low inhuman moan from close by. He released her and tured to face the new nemesis. From twenty feet away and at the same level as they stood, an old gray and black bull munched grass and mooed at them. He was the only monster present and he was interested only in his grass. The final threat gone, they laughed without restriction and made their way down the hillside. A road down there would get them to civilization.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
An hour later found John and Aisling in the back seat of a car headed toward the nearest town; a sympathetic motorist had given them a lift. As they rode peacefully along, John felt her head resting on his shoulder. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep, but she was surely resting. His job was done. Though not the job he had signed on for, he had done it well and was truly satisfied with himself. He looked out across the lake he’d thought to be his home for so many years. He would never see it the same again.
Then he spotted a slow-moving craft out on the loch. It was not far from the shore and he recognized it. “Stop the car.”
He helped Aisling hobble down to the water’s edge just as the inflatable runabout came up to them. Jones sat in back and steered the craft by the pivoting motor as Spencer stood defiantly on the bow and grinned at them.
“That’s my boat,” John said.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” John replied.
“Tell me you got it.”
“Sorry, Beau. I’m afraid it’s dead. We barely made it back alive. If it were alive, it wouldn’t have let us.”
“You mean it’s gone?”
“We got nothing. What about you?”
“Everything I had went down with my ship. I was hoping we could collaborate. This reptilian language could be something to explore.”
“What language?” John said. He felt Aisling squeeze him arm.
“So you’re keeping it?”
“You got me wrong, Spencer. I’m retiring. At least for a while. I need to reassess.”
“I should’ve known.” Beau’s tone turned accusatory.
“Known what?”
“That there was a reason you’ve been a loser all these years. It wasn’t luck or funding. You just refuse to succeed.”
“Really?” John was almost amused by the assessment.
“You finally had a chance for a major breakthrough. You had a one-of-a-kind species in your grasp. So what have you got to show for it? Do you have an animal? An egg? A bone?” John shook his head to each query. “Do you have a Goddamned dropping? No! You destroyed it all. It was likely to be the last of its kind and you destroyed it.”
As he ranted, John looked past him. Out across the water, nearer the other side than this one, a hump rose silently from the surface. The hump stopped and turned. It had eyes and the eyes seemed to look directly at John, like a crocodile. Just for an instant it
seemed to listen to Spencer raving. Then it vanished with a northward dive. The back of it looked like a large, overturned boat being pulled along just beneath the surface. It was gone.
“Even if someone claims to see the thing,” Beau continued, “no one will believe them. Least of all us because you, Dr. Nagle, destroyed the last great discovery on earth. Nice going.”
John and Aisling could only laugh as Beau felt the futility in his speech and signaled his pilot to drive on. As the pilot started the listing speedboat, John suddenly called out to Beau.
“Hey!”
With a signal hand to his pilot to wait, Beau turned to listen.
John seemed to fumble with the words as though it was an awkward thing to say. “Thanks. I mean for what you did out there. You know.”
“Uh huh. You too. Call it even?”
“Sure.” He smiled as Beau started away but again stopped him. “Louisa?”
Beau smirked as though he too just realized neither of them had asked. “I’m looking into it. She’s got my boat. She’ll be looking for us soon enough.”
John grinned. “I’m sure she will.”
* * * * *
“I realize this sounds fantastic. That’s exactly what makes it so vital that we pursue it. I assure you if you talk to John or Beau, they’ll corroborate all of this.” Louisa sat before the directors in her best business suit and new shoes. She even wore her glasses in hopes of appearing more level-headed when she pleaded the incredible case.
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