Sending them in groups of five, they began withdrawing from their positions. They weren’t particularly stealthy, so the Inhumans had to see them leaving, but still they held their position. Crazy, true to his word, was next to Jacob when he stopped to take one last look at the distant Inhumans. They were up now, gathering, but facing the wrong way. Then they parted, and Jacob felt a familiar distant vibration. Out of the trees came an Inhuman mounted on a triceratops. The Inhumans had brought in their armor.
43
Distant Thunder
The tyrannosaur family includes more than a dozen members, varying in size from the one-ton Nanotyrannus to the forty-ton Tyrannosaurus rex. It seems evolution just couldn’t stop creating superpredators.
—John Roberts, guest lecturer, Dinosaur Ranger Academy
Sixty-five Million Years Ago
Unknown Place
Lieutenant Weller moved down the line, whispering to each man, making sure they were awake. John was the last in line.
“Sun’s coming,” Weller said. “Time to get moving again.”
They were miles off course, driven off the trail by a group of predators from the tyrannosaur family that settled for the night on their route. Forced to backtrack, the marines gave the predators a wide berth. Difficult terrain drove them even farther off the trail, but no one wanted to tangle with a single T. rex cousin, let alone three. Nightfall forced them to establish a defensible position and wait for morning light.
“I didn’t think rexes hunted in packs,” Weller said as the men ate MREs for breakfast.
“I’ve seen T. rexes hunt together,” John said. “One of them stampeded a herd of Monoclonius toward two other rexes who were hiding in wait. After the kills, there was enough to eat so there was no fighting. When game is scarce, or small, then it’s every tyrannosaur for itself.”
“Sounds like the way raptors hunt,” Weller said.
“Raptors are even smarter,” John said. “They’ll not only ambush prey, but bait them, chase them down, feign injuries, tail them, and split their forces.”
“At least they’re smaller,” Weller said.
“Size isn’t everything,” John said.
They finished eating and then cautiously worked their way through the forest, trying to pick up the trail they had been driven away from by the tyrannosaurs. The morning was cool but not cold, and John was a little chilled. The rising sun eventually drove away enough shadows to warm their bodies, evaporating the night dampness. Exercise did the rest, and John was soon warm and on his way to hot.
Terrain made keeping away from the tyrannosaurs difficult, and they meandered, carefully working around where they had last seen the pack. They were making good progress, John estimating they would cross Nick’s trail in another half mile or so. Then he heard gunshots, followed by echoes bouncing off rocks and distant trees.
“Which way?” Weller demanded.
Kelton and Snead pointed in roughly the same direction.
“Get us there,” Weller said, and Kelton and Snead led the way, setting a brisk pace.
44
Siege
Miserable men indeed were they! whose distress forced them to slay their own wives and children with their own hands.… So they being not able to bear the grief they were under for what they had done any longer … They then chose ten men by lot out of them, to slay all the rest; every one of whom laid himself down by his wife and children on the ground, and threw his arms about them, and they offered their necks to the stroke of those who by lot executed that melancholy office.…
—Flavius Josephus, on the siege of Masada, A.D. 72
Sixty-five Million Years Ago
Unknown Place
Torino snorted a protest as Officer Conyers climbed into the saddle for a better look. The refugees from Reverend’s church were huddled together on the top of the hill where Conyers had met Nick Paulson and the others. The creatures the church members called Inhumans were arrayed around the hill, cutting off all escape routes. Fear was thick in the air, and Torino reacted to it, now restless, dancing off nervous energy.
Patting his neck affectionately, Conyers tried to calm the horse. “I know what you’re thinking, because I’m thinking the same thing,” Conyers whispered into Torino’s ear. “What the hell are we doing here?”
Dawn was breaking, and in the morning light Conyers could see the forces deployed against them. Seeing the strange creatures, Conyers understood why Reverend’s people called them Inhumans. Dressed in loincloths and little else, the warriors were more lizardlike than anthropoid. The hairless heads, large eyes, and snouts triggered an instinctive loathing. Killing one would be easy, Conyers thought, at the same time realizing the Inhumans must react the same way to humans. When they took the hill, Conyers circulated, checking weapons. Only a few men had rounds left for their rifles and pistols. Conyers distributed the spare ammunition for her pistol. Prepped for crowd control, Conyers had carried only one spare magazine and a canister of Mace. Thankfully, Conyers saw no bows and arrows, or spear throwers among the Inhumans. Given the human position on the hill, the spears would be a manageable threat. With bows and spear throwers, the humans would have been facing artillery.
The bigger problem was the triceratops positioned at the bottom of the hill. With three horns, a neck collar, and standing seven feet tall at the shoulders, the ten-ton animal was evolution’s battle tank. Jacob warned Conyers that the triceratops was attack trained, ridden into battle by an Inhuman. Like Hannibal’s war elephants, triceratopses were used to trample the humans, smash through their lines, and scatter them, breaking them into smaller groups and making them easier to pick off. Armed as the humans were, repelling an Inhuman attack without the triceratops would a miracle. With the triceratops, the Inhumans would follow it right through the human line, flanking in both directions.
“Our best chance is to concentrate our fire on the triceratops,” Jacob said, standing next to Conyers. “Luckily, there’s only one of them.”
“They have more?” Conyers asked, straining to see in the dark.
“Several more. Some are trained for a harness. I saw three in a column once, pulling carts.”
“Why bring only one, then?” Conyers wondered.
The human lines rippled with whispering and pointing. Over the trees beyond the triceratops rose the asteroid, and it was huge.
“This can’t be a siege, or we’re all dead,” Conyers said.
“A charge would be suicide,” Jacob said, looking at the asteroid and then back to where his wife comforted his hungry children. “They’d get to our families.”
Conyers studied the triceratops and the Inhuman battle line. To circle the hill, the Inhumans had spread their forces thin. The humans could race down the hill opposite the triceratops and punch through the Inhuman line, but the time passage that Conyers rode through was the opposite direction. The triceratops and the Inhumans would run them down before they could get anywhere near the opening.
“How fast is that thing?” Conyers asked, pointing at the triceratops.
“Faster than a human when they sprint, but they can’t run for long,” Jacob said. “But even if it slowed to a trot, we couldn’t stay ahead of it.”
“Gather up the ammunition for my spare magazine,” Conyers said. “And get me one of those spears that the Inhumans threw.”
“What are you going to do?” Jacob asked.
“Take out their armor,” Conyers said.
Jacob ran from man to man, collecting Conyers’s ammunition back. Most were reluctant until Jacob told them what Conyers planned to do. While Jacob gathered ammunition, Conyers shortened her stirrups a few inches and tightened the cinch. Once the magazine was reloaded, Conyers put it in her belt, unsnapped the retainer on her holster, and remounted, accepting a spear from Crazy Kramer.
“Give it to them good,” Crazy said.
“Taking on a triceratops by yourself is nuts,” Jacob said.
“Not by myself,” Conyers said, leani
ng forward and patting Torino on the neck.
“Bring it across our line and I’ll take it down,” Jacob said.
“Save your ammunition in case this doesn’t work,” Conyers said, then pointed at the asteroid. “It’s getting bigger by the second. No matter what happens, take as many as you can through the trees there, and then bear west to the hillside. I came out of a cave or a depression in the hill.”
“Good luck, Officer,” Jacob said.
Tightening her helmet strap, Conyers nudged Torino forward and then kicked him over the hill, trotting toward the triceratops. Frozen in surprise, the Inhumans stood like statues. Then one broke, running to the triceratops, and was boosted onto a saddle behind its neck collar by another Inhuman. Using a spear as a prod, the Inhuman turned the triceratops uphill, other Inhumans frantically prodding the triceratops into motion. Now the Inhumans chanted musically, sending their war beast into battle.
The triceratops picked up speed, climbing toward the horse and rider. Torino wanted to veer away, Conyers fought to keep him on course. It was a collision course the horse could not possibly survive. Hidden behind the neck collar, the only glimpse of the rider Conyers got was an occasional peek over the top. The gap closed quickly, the Inhuman glancing more frequently now, sure it would win the collision but fearing it anyway.
Spear in her right hand, reins in her left, Conyers pulled Torino left at the last second. Quickly bringing Torino back right, Conyers was briefly parallel with the triceratops and its rider, and she jabbed with the spear. Instinctively, the Inhuman dodged the spear, the triceratops responding to the rider’s weight shift by turning left.
Packed on top of the hill, the humans cheered, as if the duel between the horse and the triceratops were a sporting event. In response, a musical chanting came from the Inhumans.
The triceratops circled, the rider twisting to see where Conyers was. Torino could turn on a dime compared to the triceratops, and Conyers used that advantage. Bringing Torino around, Conyers cut across the arc of the triceratops’s turn, coming up from behind, jabbing at the rider. Again, the rider turned the triceratops away, starting another wide turn. More cheering erupted from the top of the hill; the chanting at the bottom got louder.
Again Conyers set an intersecting course, coming up on the rider’s left from behind. With some experience now, Conyers stood higher in the stirrups, leaning farther out, ready for a serious lunge at the rider. This time the rider turned the triceratops into Torino before Conyers could jab. Torino twisted to get out of the way, but a massive shoulder knocked the horse into a stumble. Torino went down, the triceratops continuing. Conyers tumbled from the saddle, rolling to keep from getting crushed by Torino.
The Inhuman chanting turned into a raucous high-pitched squealing. The top of the hill was silent. Conyers got up, knee twisted, hurting. Torino kicked wildly, rolling completely over, then getting his legs under him and standing. Head hanging, the horse shuddered but stood in place. Conyers limped over, taking the reins before Torino came to his senses and bolted. The ground rumbled as the triceratops made its slow turn and bore down on them.
“One more time,” Conyers said to Torino and then climbed into the saddle. The humans cheered when she remounted.
Using her heels, Conyers kicked Torino into a trot, noticing the horse’s gait was off rhythm. Conyers’s own knee hurt, but nothing would matter if the triceratops ran them down. Having lost the spear, Conyers drew her pistol. Swinging Torino wide, Conyers circled, leading the triceratops into a slow turn. Making nearly a full circle, Conyers waited until the triceratops was angled in the right direction, and then she cut across the turn, coming up behind the triceratops as before. This time she hung back, Torino’s head just parallel with the rump. Feeling a sharp kick from his rider, Torino lunged.
Coming up parallel, Conyers shot the rider in the side and then jerked the reins, pulling Torino clear. The rider disappeared over the far side of the triceratops, the animal continuing to run without a rider. Conyers had timed it well, and now the triceratops was headed toward the Inhuman line. Dropping back behind the triceratops, Conyers shot it twice in the rump, the beast grunting and picking up the pace.
Conyers pulled up, and then waved at Jacob, pointing toward the runaway triceratops. Jacob was ready, and the humans charged down the hill, following the track of the triceratops. Inhumans scattered, falling over one another to clear a path for the triceratops. A few Inhumans stood their ground, waving spears, trying to bring the triceratops under control. Kicking Torino into a gallop, Conyers caught the triceratops just as it reached the line. Conyers shot right and left, wounding two of the Inhumans trying to stop the triceratops. The third waited too long, and the triceratops ran him over as if he were not even there. Oblivious of the musical shouts on either side, the triceratops continued its unguided run, finished crossing the meadow, and disappeared into the trees.
The humans reached the line before the Inhumans could re-form. Coming in two columns, Jacob led one, Crazy Kramer the other. They drove the Inhumans back in both directions, creating a passage through the lines to the trees. With their forces circling the hill, the Inhumans were outnumbered and the humans wounded or killed many.
“Get them through!” Jacob yelled.
The families flowed down the hill toward the trees, through the passage secured by the men. Fighting was hand to hand, the ammunition now expended. Inhuman ranks swelled as those who had circled the hill came to join the battle. Conyers used Torino to herd the Inhumans into a tight mob, trying to keep them from flanking the humans. With two fronts in the battle, it was impossible.
Crazy fought like the madman he was, anchoring the center of one human line, Jacob the other. The first of the families was down the hill now, trying to squeeze through the passage held open for them, but the humans were being pushed back, the passage collapsing. With a final push, the Inhumans closed the exit, the human escape route gone. Turning back, the families in the lead pushed back into those still coming down the hill. Now the humans clumped together, surrounded.
The Inhumans cheered their pending victory, a weird high-pitched yodel. The fighting diminished briefly as the Inhumans filled in their ranks, making sure there was no gap in their line. Still mounted on Torino, a newly acquired Inhuman spear in her hand, Conyers knew their position was hopeless. On Torino, she could break through the lines and make a run for it, but looking around at all the terrified families, she knew she would never do it. She would fight with them to the end.
Men, women, and children knelt, praying, their voices beseeching the heavens’ divine intervention. Conyers looked at the sky, seeing only the asteroid. Strangely, she wished it would hit. They could use the diversion. The Inhumans were chanting again, the chants slowly working into unison and getting louder.
“Come and get it, you choir boys!” Crazy shouted.
A woman began singing. “Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound.” Others joined in, and soon the humans were all singing. The Inhumans stopped their chanting, listening. For a full minute there was nothing but the sound of the hymn, and then the Inhumans decided they had heard enough and resumed their chanting, building to an earsplitting level. Then they pressed the attack.
The fighting was furious now, Inhumans and humans taking knife wounds, broken bones, cracked skulls. Hacking right and left, Crazy severed limbs, took hands, split skulls. Three Inhumans attacked him at once, and Crazy wounded two before the third pierced Crazy’s side. Killing the Inhuman that speared him, Crazy stumbled to where Jacob still fought, clinging to the promise he’d made to Leah.
“Bring it on,” Crazy said, pressing a hand to his bleeding side.
“Hang in there,” Jacob said, backing up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Crazy.
Conyers dismounted. The Inhumans might spare Torino if they did not have to kill the horse to get to her. Spear in hand, she stood with Jacob and Crazy, facing out. Tasting victory, the Inhumans chanted, jumped up and down, and then pressed in. One, tw
o, three humans fell, the line crumbling. Then there was a new sound—the chatter of automatic weapons. Confused, the Inhumans stopped the attack. The rifle fire continued, brief spurts of three to five rounds. Inhumans fell, their ranks thinned. Confusion spread through the Inhuman ranks as they searched for the source of the gunfire.
Emerging from the trees was a squad of soldiers firing short bursts at the Inhumans. Careful not to hit the humans, the soldiers fired point-blank, wide, or even over the heads of the Inhumans. Working themselves into a frenzy, the Inhumans bunched, ready to charge. Familiar only with the semiautomatic weapons of the reverend’s people, the Inhumans had never faced automatic weapons. They learned a horrible lesson.
The Inhumans charged, and the soldiers opened up with full auto fire, mowing the Inhumans down. Stumbling over those in front, the bodies piled up, those in back pushing those in front forward. In a minute, the soldiers killed more Inhumans than the humans had in two days of fighting. Dying valiantly but futilely, the Inhumans finally broke and ran. Letting them go, the soldiers spread out, making sure there were no lingerers. Finally, two of the soldiers approached Conyers, who led Torino. Jacob and Crazy Kramer stood next to her.
A marine officer and a civilian stepped forward, eyed Crazy Kramer and the bloody machete in his hand, and then addressed Conyers.
“Officer, my name is John Roberts. I’m with the OSS.”
“Officer Kris Conyers,” she said, wiping blood from her hand before shaking his. “We are really glad to see you.”
“I’m Lieutenant Weller, that’s Sergeant Kwan, Snead, Kelton, Washburne, and the big guy is Tafua.”
“You came for us?” Jacob asked, trembling with relief.
“We’ll get you home,” John said, taking in the large number of people. “But to be honest, we were following someone else—Dr. Gah, Ranger Wynooski,” John said, seeing them hobble from the crowd. “We had no idea the rest of you were here. Are Nick Paulson and Elizabeth Hawthorne here?”
Dinosaur Thunder Page 29