Clockwork Universe

by John W Dennehy

  Both Rhino-pards quickly changed direction. Mortar in the tunnel walls cracked and bricks splashed into the water. Then, the creatures charged off, tearing down the passageway.

  A few irate growls emanated over the heavy stomping, which splashed through the water as the Rhino-pards pounded away.

  Cunningham lowered the rifle and shook his head.

  Niles turned to the Great Hunter, beads of sweat dripping from his brow. “That was close,” Niles said.

  “Too close to shoot,” Cunningham said, “unless absolutely necessary.”

  Niles nodded.

  “When an animal is that close,” Cunningham explained to Kevin, “it can take a hit and still maul you to death.”

  “By the way,” Niles interrupted. “Did you see the density of its hide?”

  “Never seen such a thick protective hide.”

  “Me either.”

  “Not on a rhino, hippo, or even an elephant.”

  “Do you expect that it’s part of the vivisection?”

  “Makes me wonder what we’re dealing with,” Cunningham responded. “Neither a leopard, nor a rhino has a hide that thick. And mixing the two creatures shouldn’t result in an attribute more perfected than on one of them alone.”

  “Except where the mix causes an enhancement.”

  “Right,” Cunningham agreed. “Take the fangs for instance. They’re an attribute of the leopard and rhino, so the mix makes them larger. But this issue with the hide—”

  “Seems like the creatures are scientifically enhanced,” Niles cut in. “And not just a blend of two species.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “They’re really smart, too,” Kevin added, meekly.

  The two hunters paused and turned toward Kevin.

  “That’s a good observation,” Cunningham said. “A good observation indeed.”

  “These aren’t ordinary creatures,” Niles added. “They appear to be very intelligent for big game. And they’re highly adaptable.”

  Cunningham nodded.

  “They quickly made use of this tunnel system,” Niles said. “The change in climate doesn’t seem to have fazed them either.”

  “And they’re hell-bent on survival,” Cunningham concluded. “Pardon my language, but it’s true.”

  “Appears to be the case,” Niles said. “The beasts have cognitive ability, adaptability, and I dare say, a certain amount of experience that is retained.”

  “Certainly understood the Weatherby,” Cunningham chuckled.

  “Indeed. Although I’m not certain that I sensed an extreme fear.”

  “Didn’t seem like fear at all,” Cunningham said. “More like a decision to take their spoils and be off with it.”

  “Makes sense. If they had encountered rifles in the past,” Niles reasoned, “it wasn’t severe enough to inflict a mortal wound. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here.”

  Cunningham left the round chambered, flicked on the safety, and then slung the rifle over his shoulder. The tracking party was not about to disband. Then, Niles held a hand out toward Kevin.

  Handing over the Gibbs, Kevin felt vulnerable. Beforehand, he would have been happy to be released of the burden. After seeing the Rhino-pards, he felt more comfortable holding a rifle.

  “Lead on,” Cunningham said to Niles.

  “Guess you were right back there at the fork.”

  “Apparently so,” Cunningham said, laughing.

  The break was brief, with just enough time to catch their breath and fairly little discussion. Kevin wondered how the two of them could function so well without much verbal communication.

  Chapter Eleven

  Proceeding down the tunnel single file, Niles took the lead again, holding onto the lantern. He had the Gibbs slung over his left shoulder, clinging to the leather sling with a free hand.

  Cunningham walked three paces back, carrying the Weatherby at port arms. He was ready to raise the rifle and fire past Niles at a moment’s notice. Trailing behind them, Kevin didn’t carry anything, and had an even harder time seeing ahead, now that the column was spread out.

  The two hunters plodded along sloshing through ankle-high water. Comforted by the rifles, the hunters didn’t reveal any sign of fear. Kevin was terrified of the Rhino-pards. He’d heard stories of high caliber bullets getting lodged in the jaw bones of grizzly bears. He wondered if the Rhino-pards’ dense hides and thick bones would prevent the elephant guns from taking them down.

  Kevin patted his wool jacket and felt the Ray-gun. Having it along didn’t assuage his concerns. He wasn’t even sure how to use the avant-garde weapon. And his fear began to escalate, wondering if the beasts might circle around and approach from the rear. They had encountered enough side passageways. Surely, the catacombs under the city tied together, and the Rhino-pards had learned their way through the maze.

  Eventually, the tunnel leveled off so the water only rose above the soles of their boots. Now, light bulbs in protective cages hung overhead, and the brick walls appeared more soiled. A patch of soot rubbed onto the elbow of Cunningham’s safari coat.

  They slogged along a little further and came upon a metal ladder affixed to the wall; it clearly ascended to the street above.

  “Appears to be a manhole access,” Niles said.

  “We’re under the city for sure,” Cunningham said. “Let’s press on a little further. Then we’ll go topside.”

  “The manhole covers are likely secured,” Niles remarked.

  “The Rhino-pards have a way out,” Cunningham said. “Blazes, we’ll find a means out of the tunnel as well.”

  “Could take longer to find it,” Niles considered, “than to double back, though.”

  Kevin’s stomach dropped at the thought of heading back the way they had come, but Cunningham didn’t respond to the suggestion. He just chuckled knowingly and continued to slosh ahead.

  They came upon a few side passages and more ladders leading to manholes on the surface. Daylight seeped through gaps around the manhole covers. Kevin grew more comfortable at the sight of light. He figured they would find a means of egress now that they were under the city.

  Most of the side passages were lone tunnels venturing off the main passageway. The crew eventually came upon a four-way intersection. Cunningham slung the Weatherby over his shoulder.

  Niles stopped and handed the lantern to Cunningham instinctively. Kevin noticed the two had worked together for so long that they sometimes did things without speaking. The Great Hunter quietly studied the intersecting tunnels. He paid particular attention to the edges of each tunnel entrance. Holding the lantern and bending over, Cunningham inspected the sides to each of the passageways.

  He picked at the brick with a fingernail, and then reached for the large hunting knife sheathed on his web belt. Cunningham pried something loose and handed it to Niles. It looked like another scrap of Rhino-pard hide, similar to what had torn loose on the metal pipe opening by the shoreline.

  After that, Cunningham looked at the ceiling and the walls; he seemed content with his inspection. Cunningham carved an “X” into the brick with the tip of his knife, then stepped over to Niles.

  Niles took the lantern. “What do you think?” he asked Cunningham.

  “This is a cross-passageway,” Cunningham said, studying the wall. “They seem to use it for getting from a nesting location to an access point topside.”

  Niles nodded in agreement, and then Cunningham stepped ahead. He began marching down the tunnel to the right.

  “Hurry it up now,” Cunningham barked. “We haven’t got all day.”

  Niles picked up his pace and caught up to Cunningham. The tunnel had a slight upgrade and soon they were walking upon dry concrete. Cunningham and Niles pressed forward moving down the tunnel fairly carefree, as though neither of them anticipated running into the Rhino-pards again. Kevin rushed along behind them trying to keep up. Still afraid.

  They followed the tunnel for some time until Cunningham came to an abrupt h
alt. He took out his knife and carved another “X” into the brick. Through the darkness, Kevin noticed a smaller passageway to the left.

  Cunningham pointed at the narrow tunnel, directing Niles to approach it. They inspected the edges of the small passageway. More scraps of protective skin had torn off on the brick.

  He handed the Weatherby to Kevin and then sauntered down the narrow passage behind Niles. The tunnel took a slight turn. Kevin could sense their path bending to the right. When the tunnel straightened out, pockets of light broke through the darkness ahead of them.

  So much daylight was uplifting, but Kevin couldn’t discern why the patch of light was distorted. He estimated the end of the tunnel at about thirty meters. The brighter the tunnel got, the more Cunningham picked up his pace, pulling ahead of Niles.

  As they moved closer to the end of the tunnel, Kevin’s eyes were blinded by the brightness. They were almost at the end when Kevin realized that a wall of greenery covered the tunnel opening. Then he noticed iron grating and his hope dissipated.

  He dreaded the thought of turning back. Then, he noticed Cunningham inspecting the grate curiously. The big game hunter grabbed an iron bar and gave it a shake. The metal rattled in his hand, but held firm.

  “Come on, fellas,” he said, “this way.”

  Cunningham stepped to the side of the tunnel and gave the grating a good shove. It wobbled loose, leaving a gap about a meter wide. He squeezed through the aperture and then scrambled into thick brush.

  Niles cut off the lantern and followed after Cunningham. Although Kevin loathed the idea of scraping through bushes, he would brave almost anything to flee the dank tunnel. He slipped past the grate, carefully trying to avoid damaging the Weatherby. Then, he worked his way through the brush, slowly easing around the branches. Kevin tried to follow the path that Cunningham had taken, but still got jabbed by an occasional sharp branch.

  Once he cleared the dense bushes, Kevin found Cunningham and Niles standing on a grassy hillside. He looked around and realized the opening led into the common they’d passed on the way to Cunningham’s quarters.

  Chapter Twelve

  Standing on the hillside, Cunningham cleared the chambers of both rifles, and then handed them to Kevin. They seemed to weigh even more than before, and the slings immediately ached his chafed shoulders.

  The Great Hunter must have noticed his dismay. “Toughen up, ole boy,” Cunningham said, lightly. “You’ll get accustomed to it soon enough.”

  Kevin nodded, acquiescing. But he thought a body needed rest before acclimating to new labor. The hunters ambled away before Kevin had the rifles fully situated on his shoulders. They headed out of a wooded area toward the center of the large park. Niles extinguished the lantern, but didn’t tuck it away into the knapsack. It swung in unison with each step he took.

  “That grate suggests the Rhino-pards didn’t surface here,” Niles said.

  “Definitely not,” Cunningham agreed. “And there wasn’t any sign of them browsing through the brush either. The beasts hadn’t even tried that pipe.”

  “But we’re close to the locations of various attacks.”

  “Indeed,” said Cunningham. “They’re bedding in the catacombs beneath this very park. Although the attacks have been relatively close by, I expect the beasts are surfacing at a few access points.”

  They stepped out of a cluster of trees and the expansive park came into view. Kevin noticed people frolicking on the lawn. Some appeared to be students sprawled out on blankets studying. A few others were young professionals picnicking in town. Everyone was formally dressed. The girls wore dresses and the guys had vested wool suits. Even the students wore suit jackets.

  Red and white checked blankets were spread out with picnic baskets on top; some of the baskets were made of wicker and others comprised of bamboo sheets meshed together.

  Kevin noticed some picnickers sipping glasses of wine, and others drank coffee from plaid thermoses. Pathways ran throughout the park, crowded with pedestrians headed to appointments, errands, or taking advantage of a beautiful day. Everything appeared tranquil, a crisp and sunny fall afternoon. Serene.

  “Why don’t we just get more men and drive them out?” Kevin said. “And then have us waiting at the access points.”

  “Blazes!” Cunningham shouted, turning toward Kevin. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

  “We have deer drives in Maine all the time,” he explained. “You send a wave of hunters into the marsh and swampy areas during the day when the deer are bedding. They walk a line and drive the deer toward awaiting hunters.”

  “You have hunters shooting toward the men driving the deer?” Cunningham quipped. “How bloody awful.”

  “We do it all the time,” Kevin replied meekly. “You just have to be careful. Besides, the men driving here would be safe in the tunnels.”

  “But not very safe from the Rhino-pards down there,” Niles commented.

  Kevin shrugged. So, even they were thinking the big bore rifles might have issues taking the beasts down. These experienced hunters had their own doubts. A shudder of dread ran through him.

  “The kid potentially has a point,” Niles said to Cunningham.

  Surprisingly, the Great Hunter nodded in agreement. “This is true,” he said. “My concern is with having too many points of egress. The beasts could get out any which way and wreak havoc in the city.”

  “You’d have to track all the access points down and seal them off except for one.”

  “That would prevent them from getting loose in the city.” Cunningham chortled. “And it would direct the beasts to our awaiting rifles, rather than chance them happening upon the 10th Hussars!”

  Niles snickered at the comment. “We’d need to ensure that our rifles can take these creatures down. And there would have to be safety precautions for the driving team in the tunnels.”

  “Right you are, chap,” said Cunningham, rubbing his chin. “Haven’t got that last part figured out yet.”

  “Neither have I, especially given our experience down there.”

  “True, very true,” Cunningham replied. “A hunter can walk right upon these creatures with little notice. The driving party could easily be turned into a slaughter party.”

  Niles looked grim. “Must give it a little more thought.”

  “Indeed, we’re just getting a handle on the situation. Now what are we going to do about the Rover?”

  “The Rover is about three clicks from here,” Niles said. “We can just force-march it over there.”

  Kevin was taken aback by the comment. The last thing he wanted to do was tote the rifles all the way back. They were close to the quarters, and so he’d hoped to stop and unload the gear. Then, he caught Niles looking over his shoulder. The slender hunter winked and grinned.

  Cunningham seemed to get wind of the shenanigans. “What in Pete’s sake is the plan, lads?”

  Niles shrugged. “Well, I was thinking that—”

  The hunters came to an abrupt halt. Kevin spotted the issue and unslung the rifles, then turned them over to awaiting hands. Frozen, neither of them turned to look at the weapons. They instinctively grabbed the stocks and slowly brought their rifles to port arms.

  Kevin saw the Rhino-pards standing at the edge of the brush line. The beasts twitched their prodigious feline nostrils, picking up a scent. Nobody else in the park seemed to have noticed them. He figured the hunters were being careful not to send the beasts into a charge. The hunters began to slowly ease their way toward a point, midway between the creatures and their prey.

  Moving downwind, the hunters kept a watchful eye on the beasts. The Rhino-pards didn’t pick up the scent of the hunters, nor did they appear to sense any danger.

  Kevin wasn’t sure if he should follow after them, or remain behind. He didn’t want to be the cause of alerting the Rhino-pards to the hunt. So he didn’t move. As Niles and Cunningham ventured further away, Kevin began to worry that his presence might attract the creatur
es’ attention. He was alone on a slight hillside, almost in line with the beasts.

  Then, the Rhino-pard with a blood-stained maw, eased from the wood line. The large creature almost slinked forward. It stopped after moving forward a few meters. The moist nose twitched faster. Its hind legs rippled massive muscles.

  The beast was extremely intense, as though it was ready to pounce.

  When the companion stepped from the woods, it took up a position half a meter behind the lead Rhino-pard. The second beast grew tense staring at the picnickers. It snorted and dug a paw at the ground.

  A few of the picnickers finally noticed the beasts and became frantic. Some began packing up the baskets, while others started fleeing the park.

  Both Rhino-pards snorted and scraped at the ground. The people in flight stirred the beasts on. Cunningham and Niles picked up their pace to a trot. Kevin caught a glimpse of dire concern on the Great Hunter’s face.

  A man lay in the grass reading a newspaper. When the man finally registered the commotion, he stood up screaming. Panic cut through the air.

  “That’s it,” Cunningham railed. “They’re going to charge!”

  The first Rhino-pard lunged forward, tearing up dried grass. A cloud of dust trailed behind its massive hind legs. Then, the other beast followed in the pursuit.

  Cunningham and Niles broke into a mad dash.

  The beasts charged. Within seventy-five meters of their prey, they closed in fast. The hunters were farther away and Cunningham’s chubby legs only carried him so fast. Kevin decided to make a break for the action.

  He watched in horror as the lead Rhino-pard ducked its head, and rammed into the man with the newspaper. The large horn impaled his abdomen. With a flick of its massive neck, the creature discarded the kill. The man tumbled into the grass with the glassy eyes of death already upon him. Blood gushed from the enormous stomach wound.