Dinosaur Thunder

by James F. David

  Looking back, Conyers saw a fire in the meadow behind them and heard the screaming of an injured T. rex. Letting Torino walk off his exhaustion, Conyers circled wide, eventually finding the refugees crowded together, Weller and Jacob Lewinski trying to calm them and keep them from running back to the church compound.

  “It’s a sign from God!” someone shouted.

  “He blocked our way!” another shouted.

  “We should have listened to Reverend. We’ve got to go back.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Wynooski could be heard saying. “There is no God. There are no signs.”

  “You need to get moving again!” Weller shouted. “We’re almost there. We can get you home.”

  “This is our home,” came a frightened voice.

  “Quiet!” Conyers shouted, coming through the trees.

  It had to be the horse that gave her authority, but the crowd settled down, listening to her when they would not listen to Lieutenant Weller and his men.

  “God didn’t block your way,” Conyers argued. “God cleared the way. Who do you think sent that fireball?”

  “She’s right!” Jacob shouted. “God saved us from the beasts that plague this world.”

  Uncertainty spread through the crowd, some still arguing to go back, others listening.

  “Look at the sky,” Conyers said.

  The people looked to see black streaks spreading from some distant point.

  “This age is ending. God cleared the way for you to go home. Disobey God at your own peril.”

  Then Conyers pushed through the crowd, letting them fall in behind Torino, and angled through the trees to skirt the burning meadow. Behind, some followed immediately, while others hesitated, arguing and pleading with others to go back. Children cried in fear and uncertainty; husbands and wives bickered. Then all argument ended when another fireball fell from the sky, exploding a mile behind them. The forest between them and their church was now ablaze. Instantly, all the remaining people fell in line, now urging those in front of them to get out of the way, or to hurry.

  Distant thumps announced more impacts, and soon smoke rose from a half dozen sites all around them. Soot fell thick as a blizzard, people coughing and complaining of the smoke. Taking her knife, Conyers pulled the tail of her shirt from her pants and cut it off. Soaking it in water, she made a bandanna, tying it over her mouth and nose. The spreading smoke hastened night, and soon they were hiking through a toxic gloom.

  “Lieutenant Weller, I’m going to push ahead. I think we’re close, but I need to find it before it’s too dark to see.”

  Weller waved her on, and Conyers urged Torino into a trot, as fast as she dared go with limited visibility. Guided by her last visual reference, and her instinct, Conyers kept as straight a line as she could, passing through alternating meadows and small stands of trees. Finally, she came out of a stand of trees and rode for half a mile through ferns and palms the height of a fire hydrant. Then the slope changed, rising sharply. This had to be it, but was the valley she and the Stripys had come out of to the right or left? Conyers guessed right, riding partially along the hill, one eye on the distant tree line, fearful of what might be hiding in the trees. After half a mile, she found the cleft. Riding a few steps into the opening, she saw that the shadow was still there, an irregular blackness filling the small canyon from side to side. Afraid to dismount with her bad leg, Conyers tossed her handcuffs into the blackness. They disappeared.

  “Let’s hope that goes where I think it does,” Conyers said, and then turned Torino and began retracing her steps.

  Leaning out, Conyers kept her eyes on the ground, following her own trail. Torino huffed and coughed now, his lungs irritated by the thickening smoke.

  “Hang in there, boy,” Conyers said. “Just a little longer.”

  Following the trail through the meadow was relatively easy since a horse and rider chewed up soft turf. In the trees, the shadows made it even harder to see, and she rode slower. To the left, another fireball hit, turning a small fire into a forest fire. Wind direction was bringing it their way.

  “We’ve got to move faster,” Conyers said, nudging the exhausted horse.

  Leaning out nearly to the point of falling off, Conyers watched the trail, awkwardly guiding Torino around trees and through small clearings. Once she lost the trail and circled, spiraling out, until she saw a clear hoofprint; then she was back on the trail, leaning low, trusting Torino to find good footing. Then ahead, she saw Weller coming through the trees, people trailing, holding hands, afraid of losing their way.

  “This way, I found it!” Conyers called.

  Weller smiled at seeing the officer, and passed the word behind him, voices spreading the news all the way to the end of the column to Sergeant Kwan.

  “All right!” Crazy Kramer yelled, stepping out, covered from head to toe in soot but acting as if he were walking in the rain. “Bring it on!”

  They hurried now, Conyers and Torino leading the way, the trail twice traveled by Torino now much easier to follow, even though it was near dark. Using her flashlight, Conyers lit the path, the light easy for the others to follow. The forest fire was burning its way toward the column, threatening to cut it off, more soot and flaming material raining, starting small fires. Finally, they emerged from the last of the trees, and Conyers left the trail, cutting diagonally toward where she knew the cleft would be. Looking back, Conyers could see how badly the group was strung out, with gaps between clumps of people. The stragglers would be lucky to get out of the forest before the fire reached them. Then the cleft appeared, Conyers’s dead reckoning dead-on.

  Conyers rode to the opening, positioning herself on the far side, waving the others forward.

  “This it?” Weller asked, stopping next to Conyers, looking down the passage at the opening.

  “Yeah, it’s how I got here,” Conyers said, realizing something had changed.

  When she had first looked back after riding out of the opening with the Stripys, the blackness had filled the entire cleft near its widest point. Now the blackness had moved deeper in, where the passage was narrower.

  “Crazy, you keep them coming,” Weller ordered.

  “All right!” Crazy said. “Keep them coming.”

  “You two, move on through,” Weller said.

  “We’re the Browns, Betty and Lincoln,” the old woman said. “Through that? But it’s so black. Where does it go?”

  “It’s your ticket home, ma’am,” Weller said, taking Betty’s arm and walking her into the cleft, her husband following. “Now go. You back there, follow.”

  Cautious and slow, the Browns were the first through, a young couple with three school-aged children following. Then, as another clump of five men and women started in, the first group came rushing back out of the shadow, the Browns coming last, falling over the children who tripped as they were dragged out of the opening by their parents.

  “It’s hell!” Betty shouted. “The reverend was right. That passage leads to hell!”

  “What are you talking about?” Jacob Lewinski demanded, pulling his wife and daughters to the front.

  “It’s awful,” Betty said. “Better to die here than in that devil’s playground.”

  “She’s right,” the mother of the children said. “It’s not a fit world for raising children.”

  Seeing that the fire had finished consuming the forest and was now racing across the meadow after the stragglers, Jacob turned to Leah. “Wait for me,” he said, and plunged into the blackness.

  51

  Closing Time

  Until the time of Einstein, we thought that mass and energy were two separate things. Until we rediscovered the power of pyramids, we thought form and energy were two different things.

  —Nick Paulson, Director of the OSS, testimony to the Senate Armed Services Committee

  Present Time

  Lake County, Florida

  “Dr. Puglisi, we had a successful PAM burn, and your payload is on its way,”
West said over the secure link to Houston.

  “Was the booster burn unusual?” Puglisi asked.

  “Consistent with revised expectations,” West said.

  “Thank you,” Emmett said, and disconnected.

  Watching his monitors, Emmett saw readings from the Millses’ barn changing rapidly. Atmospheric carbon dioxide was increasing, particulate matter flowing through the nexus into the Millses barn, and the temperature rising. That combination indicated fire. At the same time, the nexus had reconfigured again, creeping out nearly to the standing interior wall. The opening was not only moving, but also becoming larger. Theorizing in the dark, Emmett had no idea of the significance of the change, but he was sure of one thing: With the orgonic material leaving orbit, its influence would soon come to an end. Emmett called the marines standing guard around the Millses’ barn and ordered them to move well back.

  John, if you’re going to get them out, do it now, Emmett thought.

  52

  Exit

  Self-sacrifice is the real miracle out of which all the reported miracles grow.

  —Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Sixty-five Million Years Ago

  Unknown Place

  “I think we’re being followed,” Elizabeth said to Jeanette.

  Carson overheard, looked back, and then slowed to get closer, testing Jeanette’s mood with a smile. Me leaned over Jeanette’s shoulder, snapping at Carson.

  “Good Me,” Jeanette said, and rubbed the little velociraptor’s snout.

  Carson jumped back and then jogged a couple of steps to catch up with the leaders, the murk so thick now, he nearly disappeared.

  “Those raptors wouldn’t follow us, would they?” Jeanette asked.

  “I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “Nick says velociraptors are very intelligent and more humanlike than any dinosaur. Maybe they want revenge. Maybe they think we caused all this. Maybe having the world fall apart around them is making them crazy.”

  Carson disappeared into the gloom, and they hurried to catch up. Jeanette’s surviving velociraptors kept up their strange stop-and-watch behavior, unnerving Elizabeth. The climate was already tropically hot, and the heat of the approaching fire made it even worse. Dirty sweat ran in their eyes, and they wiped their faces over and over. Suddenly, something the size of a truck ran from the trees, crossing their path. Elizabeth grabbed Jeanette’s shoulder, pulling her back, and they went down, falling on their rumps. Without slowing, the huge quadruped stampeded across their track and into the trees on the other side, bulldozing a path as it ran. Behind it, three smaller animals followed single file, all with bony neck collars and one long horn.

  “Thanks,” Jeanette said, getting up.

  Re hissed a warning. Based on the behavior of Jeanette’s velociraptors, Elizabeth believed Re was the new top raptor. Re was certainly the largest.

  The women turned, rifles ready, trying to see in the gloom.

  “You see anything?” Elizabeth asked after a minute.

  “No,” Jeanette said. “But they do.”

  All three healthy raptors were frozen, pointed in the same direction.

  “What should we do?” Jeanette asked.

  “So, Re, and La will watch for us,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s find the others.”

  Elizabeth half turned, trying to find the path and keep a watch behind them at the same time. Jeanette did the same, the two women crossing the track of the quadrupeds, stumbling over deep hoofprints. They were out of sight of Jeanette’s velociraptors after a few yards. The women moved slowly at first, and then picked up speed.

  “Re, So, La,” Jeanette sang.

  Two of the velociraptors came through the smoke and soot—So and La.

  “Re?” Jeanette sang, but the raptor did not come.

  “We’ve got to go,” Elizabeth said, pulling Jeanette. “Re will catch up.”

  They hurried as fast as they dared, trying to follow the general direction Kelton had been leading them. Elizabeth knew the risk, since it would be impossible to walk a straight line without distant landmarks. With a flash and then a boom, another fireball impacted to their left, bright light and heat radiating through the forest, feeling like the heat of an open oven. In the flash they saw Re, and behind him two large velociraptors. So and La turned, going into attack posture, Re trotting between them and then turning, taking a position behind.

  “Weren’t there three of them?” Elizabeth asked, checking on either side of the two visible velociraptors.

  “Yeah!” Jeanette said.

  Studying the posture of the adult raptors, Elizabeth realized their heads were high, their tails low. “I don’t think they’re going to attack,” Elizabeth said.

  “Maybe,” Jeanette said, seeing their posture. “Let’s go while we can.”

  They resumed trotting through the gloom, the velociraptors picking up their seesawing, protective routine. Just when Elizabeth thought they were lost, Kelton appeared in the forest, calling to them.

  “This way!” he yelled.

  The women followed him, running as best they could. A short distance later, they broke out of the forest, coming to a hill. Carson was at the top, supporting Snead, while John and Nick waited at the bottom. Nick hurried to Elizabeth, taking her in his arms.

  “Nick, the raptors are back,” Elizabeth said, pushing him away.

  They all turned to see two adult raptors pacing back and forth in the flickering shadows of the fires.

  “Get up the hill,” Nick said.

  “Not without Jeanette, and if she goes up, her velociraptors will too,” Elizabeth said. “You go up with John, and we’ll come last. You can cover us from the top.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Nick said.

  “I’ll stay with Jeanette,” John said.

  “Go, I’ll be okay,” Jeanette said. “Re, So, and La will protect me.”

  Elizabeth relented, letting Nick help her up the steep hill, and then all of them except Snead aimed their rifles over John and Jeanette’s heads. Jeanette and John climbed quickly, Jeanette’s velociraptors climbing behind and next to her. The adult velociraptors advanced to the base of the hill, where they stopped, watching the humans. Coated in gray ash, the velociraptors were nearly invisible.

  “Wasn’t there one more?” Carson asked.

  “Let’s go,” John said.

  With John and Nick supporting Snead, they hurried along the top of the hill. The view from the hill showed a nightmare world. The forest below them was spotted with fires, some merging into larger fires. Distant fires were nothing but glowing spots. What was clear was that eventually they would all merge, turning into a super firestorm.

  “It’s spreading so fast,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s the high oxygen content,” Nick said. “It’s like lighting a fire in an oxygen tent.”

  “Carson, take Snead,” John said.

  “Why me?” Carson asked.

  “Just do it.”

  Freed from helping support Snead, John led, stopping occasionally to look over the hill. Finally, he stopped, looking down.

  “This is it,” John said. “Straight down here and then through the cave. Carson and Nick, you help Snead down.”

  “I won’t go without Elizabeth,” Nick said.

  Touched by his protectiveness, Elizabeth wiped grime from her face so Nick could see her smile. “I’ll be okay,” Elizabeth said.

  “She’ll come next, I swear,” John said. “You can wait for her at the entrance while Carson pulls Snead through.”

  Nick relented, and Elizabeth watched him slip down the hill to the cave, careful not to slide by it. Below the hill the slope got steeper and was impossible to climb. Reaching the small ledge, Carson backed into the opening, dragging Snead behind him. Looking over the edge, Elizabeth saw Carson and Snead entering the opening, Carson bent over as he dragged Snead, but standing. Elizabeth did not remember the entrance being that spacious.

  “Send Elizabeth!” Nick shouted.

&n
bsp; “Elizabeth, you and Kelton next,” John said.

  They both put their rifles over their shoulders, and then carefully half-walking, half-sliding, worked down the hill, occasionally reaching out to steady each other. Nick hovered by the opening, looking like he might try to catch her if she fell. Just as they reached the ledge, there was shooting at the top, and the sound of velociraptors fighting.

  Kelton unslung his rifle, looking uphill, and then turned to Elizabeth and Nick. “Get through the opening,” the young marine said.

  Then there was a commotion below, and Elizabeth turned in time to see the third velociraptor bounding up the hill, its clawed toes digging deep.

  “Watch out,” Elizabeth said, pushing Nick aside. The velociraptor had Kelton by an arm before he could move, pulling the marine off the ledge and tumbling down the hill with him. Elizabeth raised her rifle, but had nothing to shoot at, since Kelton and the velociraptor were tumbling together. At the bottom, the velociraptor came out on top, ripping Kelton’s intestines from his body. Kelton gave one scream before the velociraptor clamped down on his neck, nearly severing his head.

  “Get inside,” Nick said, pushing Elizabeth toward the opening.

  “We have to help him,” Elizabeth said.

  “He’s dead,” Nick said.

  Automatic fire sounded above, and then everything was quiet, except for a distant roar, growing rapidly louder.

  “We killed one, but the other ran off,” John called from above.

  “It was a trap!” Elizabeth shouted back up, barely heard above the roar. “There’s one at the bottom too. It killed Kelton.”

  The roar was much louder now, Nick suddenly stiffened, looking into the distance. “What do you see?” Nick called up the hill.

  “Something’s coming,” John said. “It’s the blast wave.”