Island Rampage: A Dinosaur Thriller

by Alex Laybourne

  “Is he in pain?” Nattie asked, the tremor in her voice stronger now.

  “I don’t know, but if he can feel anything, then yes.” Clarke walked over to Nattie, and took her hands in his. “I can help.”

  The three words hung in the air, their meaning not lost on anybody.

  “How?”

  “We have a drug with us, a form of morphine. I can give it to him. He wouldn’t feel a thing, and he would be at peace.” Clarke looked Nattie in the eyes, searching her.

  “Do it,” she said, fighting back the tears.

  The silence in the cave became stifling as everybody watched, afraid to cry or make any sound as Clarke took both his and Dennis’s morphine-based solution and injected them into Nick Cage’s arm.

  His breathing quickened, and his body went momentarily stiff before he relaxed. His breathing steadied, and after a few moments, his chest fell still.

  His passing seemed to trigger a cool chill, which swept through the cave.

  On the fire, a piece of wood burst with a sharp crack. Several people jumped, unable to silence their surprised gasps.

  “We need to get moving. The daylight won’t last forever,” Dennis said, his voice strictly business.

  “Go, go where?” Caroline asked.

  “Yes, do tell, I am just dying to relocate … oh wait, no I’m not,” the whiny French voice spoke up again.

  “We need to move to the third island. There is an underground communications room. We can sit tight and radio for help,” Dennis said, reiterating what Clarke had already explained.

  “We are here on some secret base nobody knows exists. Do you really think that anybody will come looking for, or even find us?” Nattie spoke, her voice emotionless as she continued to process Nick’s passing.

  “Not just anybody, but there is a direct line through to the Black Arrow control room, which you can be sure also connects to whichever government agency you all swore secrecy to. Those bastards insisted on it,” Clarke said. “We just need to get there. Now tell us about this place. What have you seen, heard? I want to know everything.”

  The group moved to the other wing of the cave. Even in harsh times, the basics of modern civilisation prevailed. The group had split the cave into a social and a sleeping area.

  The social area revealed the extent of their supplies. Boxes of meal replacements and protein bars were stacked against one wall, and a small arsenal of weapons stood against the other, hidden in the peripheries of visibility by the firelight.

  “We made two trips back to the compound to get food and weapons, but we lost some of the ammo when they attacked us.” Christopher Abbott showed the two men the armoury he had created. Four M16s, six pistols, and enough ammunition to take down a few dinosaurs before they had to fall back on Dennis and his blades.

  “It’s not much, but it will do,” Clarke said, crouching down to check each weapon.

  “What things?” Dennis asked. “You mean the dinosaurs?”

  “He means the pygmies,” Rob answered. He stood by the fire with Caroline pressed close against him.

  “Pygmies? This island has fucking pygmies now?” Dennis spat, holding back an exasperated laugh. “Just fucking great.”

  “How dangerous are they?” Clarke asked, rising back to his feet.

  “They are vicious. Small and fast, you couldn’t shoot them if you tried. They’d rip you apart quicker than any dinosaur I’ve ever seen. Their teeth are like daggers, and they don’t seem to feel pain,” Rob replied.

  “Ugh, must we talk about those hideous creatures?” Remi continued to whine.

  “Yeah, it’s true. I kicked one right in the nuts, and it just tried to eat my foot,” Caroline chipped in.

  “Great, so how many are there?” Dennis asked.

  “Impossible to tell. They move so fast. They are smart, or at least when it comes to hunting. They attack in packs, in and out as quick as you can see them, but you know there are more, just waiting in the shadows.”

  “What about the dinosaurs?” Clarke asked, pushing a fresh clip into his M16.

  “There’s plenty of them. I’m no expert, but you’ve got raptors and triceratops down in the woods. They are the angry ones at least. There are lots of smaller things that I haven’t ever seen before, in books or what-have-you,” Abbott replied, moving back towards the fire.

  “What about up here?” Dennis picked up on the next question Clarke planned to ask.

  “Up here, you have various forms of … I don’t know, rex, or something. No T-rexes. We’ve not seen them yet, but other ones that look like ‘em. Also, those things with domed heads, and ones with a single horn, like a dinosaur-unicorn. Fucking weird to look at, but they will charge anything they see.” Rob took his turn to answer.

  “Sounds like fun,” Clarke said. He was a constant source of motion, preparing to move at a moment’s notice. If not checking the weapons or his pack, he was adjusting the same, making sure he was ready.

  “How far is it to the other island?” Nattie asked.

  “Well, I wanted to use the walkway, but that plan has gone up in smoke. Quite literally,” Clarke answered her, as he started to hand out weapons. “We will need to trek to the coast, and find a way to cross the inlet. From there, we should be able to take the ATVs and move up to the security building.”

  “Oh is that all? Why don’t we stop along the way for a swim and maybe some sunbathing, I need to top up on my tan,” Henri chimed in.

  Clarke growled, his body stiff with anger. “Is he always like that?”

  “You get used to Henri after a while,” Nattie answered. “He grows on you.”

  “Yeah, like a fucking fungus,” Dennis muttered under his breath.

  “I heard that,” Henri said, his voice forcefully dropping in pitch to make himself sound sterner.

  “Yeah, well, suck it up, buttercup, we are moving out,” Dennis snarled.

  “My impatient friend is right. Here, take a gun and get in line,” Clarke said, handing a rifle to Rob and Caroline. Abbott took one, grimacing as he slung it over shoulder. Clarke kept the final one as a spare. Caroline took a Glock, as did Nattie, who slid it into her waistband like a pro.

  Henri took one under protest. Dennis grabbed one, while Clarke and Abbott took the last two.

  “I don’t know what to do with this,” Henri complained.

  “Good, just hold it until someone else runs out,” Dennis called back down the line.

  Dennis led the group out of the cave, with Rob behind him offering directions on how to get back down to the floor. Caroline and Henri were in the middle, with Nattie moving just before Clarke. The single file was necessary for passage over the cliffs, across the branch, and down the knotted vine ladder.

  “Which way?” Rob asked, looking around the group.

  They had broken formation, with the three military men forming a shield around the scientists. Nattie also stood watching the trees.

  “Let’s move together. We stop for nothing. If we keep moving and nothing gets in our way, we should be at the security compound before sundown,” Clarke spoke.

  Nobody had anything else to say, and so they set off, deeper into the jungle.

  Chapter 21

  Johan and Sikke worked their way through the bottle of whiskey before they started exchanging stories of their youth.

  Johan was surprised at the hard life the director had endured. The son of Dutch immigrants, he witnessed both his mother murdered by a home intruder when he was just seven, and his father during an evening walk through a Chicago park when he was sixteen.

  His career had been a series of successes, which Johan both knew and recognized as being borne from the grit embedded in the man’s soul by his childhood.

  Johan talked about his life growing up in post-war Austria. His father died supporting the Führer. He and his mother fled through the Netherlands and Belgium into France, and later, England. After finishing his studies, he fell into the seedy side of the London business distri
ct, and from there, history was written. His double life saw companies built and sold, while an empire was created and dominated in the dark. Wives and three children followed, but none stayed. Johan spoke to his kids and loved them dearly. All were set for life, but none knew of his business dealings. He did not want to bring them into that part of his life.

  As the sun rose, and the storm quietened, they returned to talking business.

  Sikke made the necessary calls, and after several lengthy phone calls, several of which Johan was not privileged enough to listen to, the decision was made, and the troops were assembled.

  “We have a carrier strike group in the vicinity of the islands. They are going to divert a destroyer to the islands to rescue our people,” Sikke said as he walked back into the library.

  “You just happen to have a strike group close to the islands,” Johan replied before he had the chance to control his tone.

  “Yes, only a routine patrol. To be honest, it is more of a half group, but they were close by and, well, there was no time to lose.” Sikke typed into his phone as he spoke.

  “Do you really expect to find them alive?” A familiar feeling of distrust gnawed at Johan’s gut. In all of his years, several business associates had tried to double cross him. None had lived long enough to regret it.

  Even though Johan and Sikke were alone, and had many years of quiet dealings, the guise of a friendly visit was a thinly-veiled mask. Johan regretted sending Godfrey to the island, but he needed his eyes and ears on the ground, especially with Clarke and Amare together.

  “It is not just about finding them alive, but about recovering what was being worked on. I am sure you of all people, Johan, understand the value of data. If the island is lost, then we will clean it out and ensure that when it is re-discovered, nobody will be any the wiser as to what was going on over there.

  “What is going on?” Johan asked.

  Sikke looked at him, his face expressionless, but for a brief second, something flashed behind his eyes. It was gone quicker than a shadow passing overhead in a stiff autumn breeze, but Johan caught it. “We went over this last night. I think that whiskey is getting to you, my friend. We were experimenting with dinosaur DNA, looking for any lost secrets.”

  Johan knew Sikke was lying, but there was little he could do. He would need to play it slow, wait for his moment.

  “Do you play snooker, Director?” Johan asked.

  “I don’t believe I have ever had the opportunity,” Sikke replied, the veil of friendship replaced, thinner and dirtier than before.

  “Then I insist, you must learn. Tell me, how long will it be before this breakaway group reach the islands,” Johan stressed his question in all the right places.

  Sikke’s confident step hitched. He stopped and smiled at Johan. “If all goes to plan, they should already be there.”

  Chapter 22

  Captain Simon Kincaid stood on the bridge of the USS Langley and studied the flat seas. The first of the three islands was close. They could make out the beaches and the fortified defences. Camera imagery was enlarged and manipulated by the techs borrowed from the USS Eisenhower showed the damage that had been reported by the satellites.

  For the rest, the island seemed secure, but he knew there could be no chances taken. The first island was to be secured, at all costs. That section of the briefing had even been underlined in triplicate before the message was sent.

  “Hot Pocket One is within range, sir,” Kincaid’s XO, Lieutenant Howard Lloyd, spoke. “All sensors are coming back clear, and early detection readings have no signals coming back from the men stationed there, sir.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Lloyd. Ready one of the choppers,” Kincaid said, his eyes focused on the island.

  The information they had been given was limited to that which they needed to know. Kincaid had been around long enough to know that was how it worked. He had completed missions with less intel, and under worse conditions. With his eyes firmly set on reaching the rank of major in the near future, he could ill-afford to start asking too many questions now.

  “Tell Gunnery Sergeant Plummer to report to the bridge,” he added after a moment’s thought.

  Five minutes later, a burly marine entered the bridge and stood before the CO. He stood sharply to attention, his eyes focused forward, not taking in anybody in particular, but not missing anything either.

  “Thank you for joining us, Gunnery Sergeant.” Kincaid was a fair man, and while he ran a tight ship, he made sure that his crew knew their best efforts were appreciated. “I have a job for you. Take three marines and a chopper. Do a quick recon route above the island. Land if there is space and take a look. We need to make sure that whatever is in the main building is still locked away and secure.”

  “Yes, sir, is there anything else, sir?” Plummer’s deep, gravelled voice had a loud and resonating quality to it.

  “Yes, there is one more thing. We are under direct orders not to enter the building. We are to ensure it is secure, clear out any unfriendlies we may find, and high-tail it back out to this boat. Am I clear? I don’t want any gung-ho, hero bullshit going on. No matter what happens.” While fair, everybody on board knew better than to even flirt with the line. Orders were given, and orders were followed. Taking liberties were not acceptable, nor were they tolerated.

  “Yes, sir. We will be ready for the off in ten minutes.” Gunnery Sergeant Plummer turned, and left the bridge.

  “Reduce our speed. Let the chopper make a loop around before we swing out and move for the rear island,” Captain Kincaid ordered as he walked, pacing back to his captain’s spot. “Lieutenant, hail the Anderson. I want them to sweep closer to the shore. Patch Captain Defour through to my ready room.”

  “Aye, sir,” The XO answered. Much like any good XO, he had anticipated the captain’s request, and opened the communication lines direct from the captain’s ready room.

  “You have the bridge until my return, Lieutenant. Hold our course and await further advice once the chopper makes land,” Kincaid called as he walked from the bridge and down to the captain’s ready room.

  Captain Defour of the USS Anderson, a nuclear-class submarine, was already on the line waiting.

  “Good morning, Captain. Sorry for the interruption. We are sending a bird up to check on the first island. Once down, we will swing out to sea and come back for the third island. I want you to move in closer to the shore, and keep an eye out for anything that may be displeased with our arrival.” Captain Kincaid was on the wrong side of fifty, but commanded a great deal of respect from his peers.

  “Yes, sir. Do you really believe it?” the young submarine captain asked.

  “Do you really think the military would lie to us, Captain?” Kincaid’s voice was stern.

  “No, no, sir, but well … I mean, you read the orders, it does seem a little, far-fetched,” the submarine captain stuttered.

  “Captain Defour, we are the nation that put a man on the moon. We created nuclear weapons, and later this year will be launching a manned space flight to Mars. Reading that briefing merely made me think about the wonders we have achieved and possibilities that lie ahead.” Kincaid was playing for promotion. He knew that anybody could be listening to them at any time.

  The truth was, he found the entire operation absurd, but that did not mean it was a lie. He would keep an open mind, and that meant being prepared for anything. If it meant dinosaurs, then so be it.

  “I understand, Captain Kincaid,” Defour answered, his voice was that of a man who had been reprimanded and knew he had been wrong.

  “Very good. Stick close to the coast. I want you ready with those MK-45’s as soon as one of those things displays the slightest bit of aggression.” Kincaid ended the communication and look at himself in the mirror.

  His greying hair had, at one point in time, been jet black. Now he looked more like a salt-and-pepper combo. Perfectly seasoned. Splashing his face with cold water, he straightened his uniform and headed back to t
he bridge.

  Chapter 23

  “How much longer is it going to be?” Remi whined as they made their way through the trees.

  He had not stopped complaining since they left, using every available moment to voice is annoyances.

  “Will you shut the royal fuck up?” Dennis shot back at him, spinning around to face the annoying Frenchmen.

  “I’m sorry, but these shoes were not made for this sort of trekking. I mean, it is bad enough I had to wear them in the lab all day long, but out here, in the mud and the—”

  “Thank Christ, he learned to keep his mouth shut,” Dennis said at the sudden silence.

  A few moments later, Caroline screamed. The two Black Arrow men spun around, their rifles raised.

  Remi lay on the floor, a pool of thick blood spreading around him. His body twitched, the bloody stump of his neck projected thick gushes of crimson into the forest.

  Behind him stood a three-meter-tall beast with a head the size of a coffee table. Blood dribbled from the giant mouth as it swallowed Remi’s head in a single gulp.

  For a second, everybody froze. The dinosaur stood still, watching the others, and likewise, they stood staring at it.

  The creature growled, a deep, guttural sound that seemed to blast from within its chest, emanating like a music from a loudspeaker.

  “Get down,” Christopher called.

  Rob grabbed Caroline and pulled her out of the way just as Christopher opened fire.

  He sprayed round after round into the creature, who turned and made to charge them down.

  Dennis and Nattie joined in the fire fight, ploughing round after round into the beast until blood leaded from its flank like water through a colander.

  The creature stood still, breathing heavy, wet inhalations. Gargling as it drowned in its own blood, the smaller version of the Tyrannosaurus rex shuddered and collapsed, its legs giving way beneath it.

  The beast fell atop Remi’s body, which exploded in a shower of entrails and gore.