Dinosaur Thunder

by James F. David

  “You’re police?” Lincoln said, looking at Conyers and Wynooski, then closely at the front of Carson’s shirt.

  “She’s the police, I’m the ranger, and he’s a pretender,” Wynooski said.

  “I see,” Lincoln said, not really understanding.

  “We need to keep moving,” Carson said.

  “We’re almost there,” Lincoln said. “It’s not far now.”

  “Have you seen any others?” Jacob asked. “Leah and my girls?”

  They had not, but then they explained that they had hidden for a long time under a log, Inhumans running past their hiding spot twice. Then Betty and Lincoln had Nick explain where they had come from, excited that the world they had left behind was still somewhere.

  “Maybe God’s banishment is coming to an end,” Lincoln said.

  “The reverend was right,” Betty said. “He told us if we remained faithful and obedient, that God would redeem us.”

  Nick saw Jacob turn his head and roll his eyes.

  “My sister and mother lived in Missoula,” Betty said. “Are they still there?”

  “Missoula was untouched,” Nick assured her.

  “What about Seattle?” Lincoln asked. “I have cousins there, but the rest of my family was in Portland.”

  “The Time Quilt triggered a tidal wave and there was some damage along the waterfront areas, but if they lived in the hills, or inland, they should be okay.”

  “One lived near Green Lake,” Lincoln said.

  “That area did fine,” Nick said. “You do understand that it has been eighteen years since the Time Quilt? People move, they get sick, some of them may have died.”

  Nick’s caution had no impact, and Betty and Lincoln peppered them with questions about other cities and other countries, and then finally asked the question Nick was waiting for.

  “Can we get back the way you came?”

  “Sure we can,” Carson cut in. “But the horse can’t. I vote we go anyway and leave Trigger here.”

  “We can’t leave the horse,” Betty said, horrified by Carson’s suggestion.

  “Then stay with the damn horse,” Carson said, “but the rest of us are getting out.”

  “Don’t curse, young man,” Betty said. “The reverend teaches us that Jesus Christ and an unbridled tongue cannot live in fellowship.”

  Carson slapped his hand to his forehead, drawing it down his face, stretching his skin. “Now I know how Alice felt,” Carson said. “Well, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, can we just keep moving?”

  “Let’s go,” Nick said, trying to keep the peace. Nick fixed Carson with a stare and shook his head, silently scolding him.

  “What?” Carson said, helping Gah back up on Torino.

  “Asshole,” Conyers whispered to Carson, making sure Gah was secure.

  “What?” Carson said again. “You care what these Jim Jones Kool-Aid drinkers think?”

  Not waiting for an answer, Carson double-timed it to catch up with Crazy Kramer, borrowing the machete, hacking violently for a few minutes, and then handing it back.

  They picked their way through overgrown ruins, to what had once been a freeway. Large sections of cracked but unbroken concrete remained, and lane markings were still visible in some sections. A rusted steel guardrail still ran down the center; a streetlight bent in half kissed the ground. Most of the other streetlights were merely stumps, or completely gone. A short distance to their right was an overpass, the center collapsed, leaving a gaping hole. Straight ahead were hills, thick with cycads. Sprinkled in between were black trunks, the remains of what had been the original vegetation. In one place, Nick could see a section of brick wall, split by a rotting snag. On top of a nearby hill was a cell phone tower, vines covering the lower third.

  “This way,” Jacob said, Crazy Kramer and Carson already leading.

  Turning left, they followed the road, keeping the hills to their right. Littered with debris, the flat road was nevertheless easier to negotiate than the forest, or the ruins of the city. As they came around the curve, Crazy Kramer gave a whoop.

  “It’s still there,” Jacob said.

  “Praise God,” Betty and Lincoln said.

  Soon Nick could see a church sitting on a hill, the only intact building he had seen. A cross stood on the steeple that was the apex of the wedge-shaped building. Stained glass panels were set high in the walls, generous amounts of clear glass ran along the near side.

  “I see someone,” Betty said.

  Nick saw a figure waving from the corner of the building. Soon others appeared, waving, one looking through binoculars and then passing them around so that others could see.

  “Hurry,” Jacob said, picking up the pace and passing Carson and Crazy Kramer.

  “Finally, someone’s getting religion on this hurry thing,” Carson said.

  An old landslide blocked the road to the church in one place, the group detouring to a path cut through downed and burned firs. The last stretch up the hill was through a burned neighborhood, the houses barely recognizable through the ferns and cycads that grew from their ashes. A steel fence blocked the entrance to the church, where dozens of people peeked through gaps in the steel, excited, smiling, shouting greetings.

  Only when they were almost to the gate did it swing open, four men pushing it open, letting the small group in, and then pulling it closed, locking the gate with three large steel bolts. Inside, four more men stood with rifles ready, not smiling. Nick ignored them for now, letting Jacob, Betty, Lincoln, and Crazy Kramer enjoy their homecoming. Almost immediately, the attention turned to Torino, the crowd surrounding the nervous horse and the police officer, looking at them as if they were ghosts. Gah slid off, hobbling out of the way.

  “Have the police come for us?” an old woman asked, looking at Conyers and then at Wynooski. “Does that say Orlando? Like in Florida?”

  “We’ll explain later,” Jacob said. “What about Leah? Beatrice and Bonnie?”

  “They’re here,” two or three said at the same time.

  Suddenly the people quieted and the crowd parted, a big man in a black suit, white shirt, but no tie coming through, flanked by men with rifles. Wearing aviator sunglasses, his black hair slicked down and combed straight back, he suddenly broke from a grim expression into a lopsided smile.

  “Brother Jacob, Brother Kramer, Brother Lincoln, Sister Betty, you are as welcome a sight as the prodigal son.”

  Hugging them individually, only Jacob did not hug back.

  “What do we have here?” Reverend said, looking briefly at Nick and the others, and then lingering on Conyers in her uniform, and then Wynooski in hers, before finally walking slowly to Torino.

  “It’s a sign, isn’t it, Reverend?” Betty said, those in the crowd mumbling agreement.

  “A sign? Yes, but is it from God or Satan?”

  “It’s from Florida,” Carson blurted out.

  The reverend turned on him, the lopsided smile fading. “Do you presume to know God’s will?” Reverend demanded.

  “I presume to know Wills’s will,” Carson said.

  Confused, and not used to backtalk, the reverend settled into a malevolent stare, struggling to understand Carson’s remark.

  “His name is Carson Wills,” Wynooski explained. “That was his feeble attempt at humor.”

  “Is there a doctor here?” Nick asked. “My friend here hurt his ankle.”

  “We no longer rely on the human healers,” Reverend explained. “True healing comes only from God.”

  “How’s that working out?” Carson asked. “The way I heard it, your flock gets smaller every year.”

  One of the reverend’s bodyguards stepped forward, pointing his rifle at Carson’s belly. Reverend put a hand on the bodyguard’s chest, holding him back.

  “Those who confess their sin are healed; those who cling to their sin reap what they have sown,” Reverend said.

  “Faith healing is a myth,” Wynooski asserted. “Show me someone who claims to be healed
by faith, and I’ll show you a liar.”

  Even Carson understood Wynooski had gone too far, inching away as the reverend turned on her.

  “I’m just stating facts,” Wynooski said.

  “Every person here today survived famine, epidemic, rampaging animals, and war because God is in their lives.” Reverend’s cheeks were red, his voice deep, his words carefully measured.

  “That’s not important right now,” Nick said, immediately regretting his words. “What I mean is that we need to find a way to get you and your people back to the modern age. You know about the asteroid, right?”

  Nick saw blank looks from everyone, including the reverend.

  “The light in the sky,” Nick said, seeing Jacob pointing. Looking up, Nick saw the glow of the asteroid in the blue sky. “Yes, that,” Nick said.

  “That is the Fire of God,” Preacher explained. “It is a harbinger of change. God is pleased with us, his faithful, and his fire brings a message.”

  “It’s not fire,” Nick said carefully. “It is an asteroid called the Chicxulub impactor. The impact of that asteroid triggers the Cretaceous–Tertiary mass extinction. Seventy percent of the animal life on this planet is going to be destroyed.”

  “Cretaceous?” Reverend probed.

  “Cretaceous period,” Nick explained. “You are sixty-five million years in the past. That asteroid ends the age of the dinosaurs.”

  Reverend smiled, showing his amusement to his followers. “Sir,” Reverend said patiently, “the Earth was created ten thousand years ago, as was the entire universe. We could not possibly be sixty-five million years in the past, since nothing existed sixty-five million years ago.”

  “Oh, brother,” Carson mumbled, walking away, shaking his head. “We’re all gonna die.”

  “Reverend, we need to talk,” Nick said.

  27

  Village of the Damned

  Most educated people are aware that we are the outcome of nearly 4 billion years of Darwinian selection, but many tend to think that humans are somehow the culmination. Our sun, however, is less than halfway through its lifespan. It will not be humans who watch the sun’s demise, 6 billion years from now. Any creatures that then exist will be as different from us as we are from bacteria or amoebae.

  —Sir Martin Rees, Astronomer Royal

  Sixty-five Million Years Ago

  Unknown Place

  Jeanette insisted on calling them aliens, although Elizabeth thought that impossible. Too primitive to have traveled to another planet, that could only mean that she and Jeanette had traveled to their planet, but that seemed equally unlikely. Besides, Elizabeth had experienced the time–space distortions caused by dense matter before, and felt them again traveling to here. Whatever the creatures were, they were from Earth in some time period or place. More important, they were afraid of the velociraptors and kept their distance.

  “Are they going to just stand there?” Jeanette asked after a while. “Maybe they’ll run if I shoot one of them.”

  Jeanette raised the rifle to her shoulder, the aliens hunching in anticipation.

  “Don’t shoot,” Elizabeth said, gently pushing the barrel down. “Shooting won’t scare them away. They seem to know what a gun is. If they were afraid of getting shot, they would have run by now.”

  “Really?” Jeanette said, and then aimed over the aliens’ heads and fired.

  The creatures flinched but did not move.

  “Yeah, they do know what a gun is,” Jeanette said. “There’re only six of them. Let’s shoot them so we can get going.”

  “Jeanette, do you really want to kill them in cold blood?” Elizabeth asked, surprised by Jeanette’s callousness.

  “Why not? If we really are in the past, then they’ve been dead for millions of years. It’s kind of like shooting a corpse.”

  “No, it’s not,” Elizabeth said, not as certain as she sounded.

  “There’s nothing like those things back where we came from,” Jeanette argued. “They have to be one of Darwin’s dead ends.” Jeanette was an intelligent woman, but used superior abilities in a twisted way.

  “Let’s leave and see what happens,” Elizabeth said.

  “Might as well,” Jeanette said. “We can always shoot them later.”

  With the velociraptors orbiting Jeanette, and Sally trailing, the women angled away from the creatures. Jeanette’s aliens watched, letting the women arc around them and then following, keeping a hundred yards behind. Elizabeth led now, directing Jeanette toward the hill in the meadow. The creatures kept their distance but followed. The velociraptors slowly lost interest in the aliens, although every once in a while, one would look behind, see the creatures following, and awk a warning at the group. Reaching the hill, Jeanette and Elizabeth climbed it, the creatures stopping at the bottom. The sun low on the horizon, Elizabeth estimated how long it would take to get from the hill to the forest.

  “We should sleep here for the night,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s a defensible position,” Jeanette said. “We can pick them off as they come up the hill.”

  “Were you in combat?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Every day since puberty,” Jeanette said, pointing at her breasts.

  “I had a smaller version of your problem,” Elizabeth said.

  They took turns watching the creatures that remained at the bottom of the hill. When it was Elizabeth’s turn, there was still enough light to see one of the creatures detach, crossing the valley and disappearing into the trees on the east side. Night fell, Jeanette feeding Sally and the velociraptors. Elizabeth and Jeanette ate as the moon rose and then settled in for the night.

  In the eastern glow of the rising sun, they could see they were now surrounded. More of the creatures came during the night, circling the hill; however, none of the creatures climbed the hill in the dark. On the south side, Jeanette and Elizabeth found a large clump of the creatures, and in the still morning air, they could hear their strange language. Like a mumbled song, it was melodious, peppered with clicks, and incomprehensible. With the rising sun, the creatures’ camp came to life with a fire and the smell of roasting meat. Finishing breakfast, one of the creatures separated, taking a few steps up the hill and shouting unintelligibly.

  “Go to hell!” Jeanette shouted back.

  The creature started up the hill.

  “Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti,” Jeanette sang.

  Velociraptors fanned out on either side of Jeanette and Elizabeth. While still afraid of the ruthless predators, Elizabeth nevertheless welcomed their presence, reaching down and patting one next to her—Me, she thought. Sally shoved in between Jeanette and Elizabeth, giving a hearty woof. Me awked his own warning.

  “Good chick,” Elizabeth said, still patting the velociraptor.

  Me hissed. Elizabeth was pretty sure the hiss was aimed at the creature climbing the hill, but took her hand back just in case.

  At the halfway point up the hill, the creature stopped, large eyes looking at the velociraptor picket line, the taut gray skin on its face registering nothing recognizable by a human. Turning, the creature called back down to the others.

  “I’ll shoot him,” Jeanette said. “It’ll discourage the others.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said. “He may be coming to talk.”

  “You speak alien?” Jeanette asked.

  “Maybe he speaks English,” Elizabeth suggested.

  Now the creature started walking around the hill, keeping his distance from the women and velociraptors.

  “Fa, So,” Jeanette sang out.

  Two velociraptors separated from the others, staying with the creature, walking along the side of the hill. As they did, the creatures below erupted in their singsong speech, huddling together and then pointing at the women. The creature on the hill stopped, walking back to his starting point, Fa and So keeping between him and the women. Giving up, the creature retreated down the hill to the others.

  “I love the velociraptors,” Elizabeth said
.

  “I wonder why they’re so afraid?” Jeanette asked.

  “You saw what your velociraptors did to those two men on your farm,” Elizabeth said, “and they’re only half grown.”

  “Yeah, but that mob of aliens could easily take this hill,” Jeanette said. “The chicks would slow them down, but couldn’t stop them.”

  “Between the velociraptors and the guns, we would kill many of them,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe they care as much about their lives as we do about ours.”

  The discussion below ended, and now the alien who had walked up the hill came forward again, held his spear high, and then dropped it. Turning sideways, he made an unmistakable motion, indicating he wanted Elizabeth and Jeanette to come down the hill.

  “Hell no!” Jeanette shouted.

  The creature repeated the motion.

  “He doesn’t understand,” Elizabeth said.

  “Hell no!” Jeanette repeated, louder.

  The creature said something to the others below, and they separated into two groups, creating a lane and then dropped their spears and got down on their knees. The lead creature repeated the “come this way” motion.

  “Don’t fall for it,” Jeanette said. “Men always worship us until they get what they want.”

  “This isn’t about sex,” Elizabeth said.

  “If they’re male, it’s about sex,” Jeanette asserted.

  Not able to disagree, Elizabeth took another approach. “What choice do we have? We’re trapped on this hill. We don’t know where Carson and Nick are, and we can’t follow them with those creatures blocking the trail.”

  “We have the guns,” Jeanette said.

  “I don’t think they mean us any harm,” Elizabeth said. “They might know where Nick and Carson are.”

  “Not that we can ask them,” Jeanette said.

  Jeanette walked the perimeter of the hill, looking for options, finally giving up.

  “If one of them pinches my ass, I’ll kill them all,” Jeanette said.

  “Agreed,” Elizabeth said.

  They came down slowly, the chicks forming a perimeter, heads low, tense. The creatures backed away, giving them plenty of space. Picking up his spear carefully, the lead creature put it across his shoulders, the others following suit. Staying ten yards ahead, the creature led them across the meadow, the others falling in behind, primarily interested in the velociraptors and the dog, not the women.