KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back.

by Max Hawthorne

  As the male drew closer, the need for caution on his part became more apparent. Pliosaurs mated in the water like sea turtles. And, like sea turtles, they exhibited sexual dimorphism. Because the female supported the weight of both the male and herself during mating, she tended to be substantially bigger. If the male was considered large for his kind, then the female was enormous.

  Majestically, she emerged from the gloom. A fourth again his length and twice his weight, the cow was a colossus even by prehistoric standards. Her jaws were lined with broad-based fangs twice the size of a T-Rex’s. Her skull measured over sixteen feet in length, her mass equivalent to a modern day whale.

  As the female drew closer, the bull circled, giving her a wide berth. Diving deeper, he spotted an entire ecosystem hovering beneath the cow’s armored belly. So large was the female that entire schools of foot-long fish had taken up permanent shelter underneath her, seeking refuge from both the heat of the sun and larger predators like plesiosaurs and sharks.

  Continuing his sweeping arc, the male spotted a potential threat lurking several hundred yards northwest. Gnashing his teeth, he veered off to investigate. The intruders were a hunting pack of Tylosaurus proriger. A species of giant mosasaur, the fifty-five foot marine lizards were direct competitors. With six-foot skulls lined with crocodile-like teeth, the mosasaurs were similar in length to the bull, but due to their serpentine build, far lighter in weight.

  The newcomers were, like the other hunters, simply hoping for an easy meal. Even a trio of them was probably not a match for a healthy male pliosaur. Still, for a dominant male coming into the rut, their presence was an annoying distraction.

  Speeding directly at the mosasaurs, the bull opened his jaws wide and exposed a frightful armament of armor-piercing teeth. He turned sideways and gave the lead Tylosaurus a malevolent glare. Its own jaws half-open, the mosasaur immediately swerved off, followed by its brethren. Propelled by powerful strokes of their shark-like tails, the three invaders vanished into the deep.

  Disregarding them, the bull wheeled back in the direction of the female. He could just make out her shadowy form, far off in the distance. He blinked rapidly as the female’s hormonal scent washed over him, his refrigerator-sized heart beating rapidly in response, pumping adrenaline and oxygen-rich blood throughout his body. Sexual excitement began to build in him and he picked up speed.

  FIFTEEN

  Ten miles off the coast of Paradise Cove, the great white shark hunted in earnest. Normally the top of the food chain, the frustrated Carcharodon carcharias had been forced to accept that it was no match for the larger, more powerful orcas. It sensed their approach by the telltale sonar clicks that preceded them and fled the area, abandoning the whale carcass it traveled so far to find.

  Disappointed and hungry, it sped away, its gray dorsal fin scything through the waves as it searched for another meal. Ahead, hundreds of marine animals fled, including the blubber-rich sea lions and dolphins that were its preferred prey.

  As its hunger reached intolerable levels, the great white turned toward shore. Its six-foot tail beat rapidly as it accelerated. Ahead in the shallows, it sensed the presence of life – something to assuage the burning hunger that writhed within its empty stomach. Its toothy maw widening in anticipation, the shark sped hungrily on.

  Karl Von Freiling had to fight to keep from laughing. As rusty as his Punjab was, there was no mistaking the conversation between his driver Aziz and the cabbie’s dispatcher. The two of them were actually trying to hatch some hair-brained scheme to shake him down.

  Ballsy.

  “I am terribly sorry, Mister Chuck,” the cabbie apologized as he hung up the microphone. He glanced at the spacious homes and gardens that dominated the upscale neighborhood, trying to avoid his passenger’s unwavering gaze. “But my dispatcher has instructed me that the rate you and I agreed upon is insufficient for the distance and destination.”

  “Oh, really?” Von Freiling drawled through a Cheshire cat’s grin. He’d waited until they traveled a block past his residence before instructing the driver to pull over. “And how much does he think I should be paying?”

  Aziz hesitated. “Another . . . two hundred and fifty dollars.”

  Von Freiling stifled a snicker. He removed his sunglasses and studied his driver’s reflection in the mirror. Although he was trying to appear calm, Aziz had sweat forming on his forehead and a nervous tic doing the tango on his right cheek.

  “Hmm . . . let me give it some thought.” Von Freiling smiled mirthlessly. “I’m thinking . . . no. You see, Aziz, a deal’s a deal. As a gentleman, I always keep my word. Frankly, if you thought the money was going to be an issue, you shouldn’t have agreed.”

  “But, my boss said I would be fired–”

  Von Freiling waved him off and counted out eight hundred dollar bills. He passed them though the shoebox-sized opening in the minivan’s Plexiglas partition. “Forget it, Aziz,” he said. “Now, I was going to give you a fifty dollar tip. But not after hearing your conversation. And yes, I understood every word. Now, pass me my change, please.”

  The cabbie’s face was a blend of astonishment and consternation. His fingers fumbled as he counted the money. “But Chuck, I need at least another two hundred dollars.”

  Von Freiling leaned forward in his seat, his glittering eyes frightening. “Listen, moron. I’m not giving you a fucking penny more. You’re starting to piss me off. So I suggest you give me my fifty dollars, before things inside this vehicle get very unpleasant.”

  “Come on now, Mister Chuck, it is only fair . . .”

  Von Freiling’s neck muscles rippled as he gave the thin partition a calculating stare, pinpointing its weak points. A mental image of him grabbing Aziz by the nape and pulling him forcibly through it began to coalesce in his mind, and he smiled an awful smile. He felt an adrenaline rush begin to build and locked his gaze on the flustered cabbie. “I really don’t think you appreciate the gravity of your situation . . .”

  The cabbie turned in his seat. His jaw dropped and he swallowed hard. He turned away, only to turn back a second later to toss the Ulysses S. Grant through the partition.

  Von Freiling snatched it out of the air. He grabbed his bag and climbed out, before sticking his head back inside. His smile returned.

  “Have a nice drive back.”

  He left the minivan’s door open and walked away.

  “So, Jake, what should we do?” Amara asked as she finished shutting down the computer. She was bone tired, but at least she’d convinced the headstrong lawman to consider the possibility she was right.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he replied, glancing over from a nearby window. His arms folded, he stared out onto the street. The glass was streaked with rain from a passing shower. He traced the meanderings of one of the drops with a hardened fingertip. “But I’ll tell you what we’re not going to do. We’re not going to broadcast this. Not until we have some more substantial evidence.”

  She took a step toward him. “But, you’ve seen all the evidence . . .”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “Yes. But it’s circumstantial. The media will certainly say it is.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” Amara fumed as she snatched some additional sheets off the printer. She was sick of the ongoing argument. “Look at these geothermal reports. Both of the previous incidents had substantial activity in close proximity to each sighting – in fact, only a few days prior to each occurrence. And now, less than a week after there was an eruption off the coast of Cuba, we have this!” She picked up the tooth and held it high.

  Jake’s shoulders tightened, then gradually relaxed. “Fine. You know, you’re lucky you’re cute when you get all ‘outraged womanhood.’ “ He grinned at the indignant expression on her face. “You don’t mind if we use your ship, do you?”

  Amara stared at him. “My ship? For what?”

  “For our very own monster quest. We’ve got to find this thing before it kills again.”

  She hesitate
d. “Look, I’m not in favor of going out and killing this animal. We’re dealing with a unique species. It should be observed, not blown up.” The cetaceanist paused when she saw the surprisingly harsh look on Jake’s face. “But then again,” she added hastily, “people have been killed, so we definitely have to do something.”

  Jake shook his head. “I need more proof, doc. I’m not going to put my head on the chopping block without it.”

  “I understand.” She walked back to her desk and started tossing the remainder of her belongings into her purse. “I just wish our tooth and tissue samples, combined with Archimedes’ analysis printouts, turned out to be enough. But you’re right. We need something more substantial. Something people will regard as irrefutable proof.”

  “We need film footage.” Jake began rewrapping the tooth. “We’re going to have to go out, find this thing, and videotape it. Once we do, we’ll be gold.”

  “It’s too bad we didn’t get it the other day.” Amara sighed ruefully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember I told you the creature passed under my ship?”

  Jake nodded.

  “We tried to record it with our underwater cameras. They’re integrated into the hull of the ship.”

  “And what happened?”

  “Well, we thought the creature was chasing our runabout . . .” Amara’s eyes widened with the memory. “We had them gun it all the way back to the Harbinger. Unfortunately, the wake they kicked up ruined all of our footage. We couldn’t see anything.”

  “You only have these cameras on one side of the ship?”

  “No, they’re on both sides, silly,” Amara said with a half-smile. “We were just turned in that direction and had the portside cameras set to . . . Omigod!”

  Jumping out of her chair as if she’d been electrocuted, she started digging in her bag like a maniac.

  “What’s going on?” Jake asked bemusedly.

  “I’ll tell you in a second,” she said, nearly beside herself with excitement. Snatching her radio out of her bag, she twisted the squelch button into position with trembling fingers. “Thank God I charged this last night.” She raised the unit to her mouth. “Attention Harbinger, this is Amara calling. Repeat, Amara calling. Do you read me?”

  There was a long moment of static-laden interference before Adam Spencer’s voice crackled out of the walkie-talkie.

  “Amara, my God, we’ve been trying to get you on the horn for an hour!”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “We nearly lost the William! First the sharks ran her over. Then the whales beat the hell out of her. We barely got her back on board! You had to see it to believe it. If Joe hadn’t thrown the winch into high gear, they’d have dragged her and her crew straight to Davie Jones’s locker!”

  “Jesus,” Amara said, eyes wide. She fretted for a moment and pushed the talk button again. “Which whales, Adam? And is the crew all right?”

  “It was one of our study pods of killer whales – alpha, to be precise. I’ve never seen anything like it. They just went berserk! Lane and Mike are a little banged up, but they’re okay.”

  Amara bit her lower lip as she looked at Jake.

  “Adam, from the evidence we’ve gathered, it appears we have a new species of predator around, something very dangerous. Ground everyone immediately. No one is to leave the ship. Do you read me?”

  “Sure thing. You won’t be getting any argument from Lane or Mike. Or from me, for that matter.”

  “Fair enough,” Amara said. “Now, I need to know . . . wait, hold on a second.” She saw Jake stiffen and she took her finger off the talk button. “Yes?”

  “Find out about the sharks.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Adam, Sheriff Braddock wants to know what happened with the sharks, and so do I.”

  “We had tons of them feeding on Elvis’s carcass, including a real monster of a great white. But they all got out of Dodge when the killer whales showed up. Why does he want to know about the sharks?”

  Jake pushed a button on his intercom system.

  “Molly, call Chris Meyers on his cell phone, please. Tell him to stop by Joe’s Quarry & Mining Company and pick up a small dynamite kit, and to carefully bring it to the dock.”

  “No problem,” Molly buzzed back.

  Grim-faced, Jake turned to Amara. “With the prevailing currents, I can’t risk that dead whale drifting too close to shore.” He shook his head. “One of those sharks could cruise into the marina and mistake one of our well-fed tourists for a tasty-looking piece of whale blubber. Sorry doc, but I’ve got to sink what’s left before it makes its way here.”

  Amara nodded and raised her radio to her lips. “Adam, I need you to keep Elvis tied to the Harbinger. Do not cut him loose. We’re going to have to dynamite the carcass.”

  “No problem, boss. Gee, I guess the king really is dead, huh?”

  She smiled sadly. Suddenly, her eyes popped. “Holy cow, I almost forgot! Adam, I need to know something of the utmost importance.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “I need to know if you erased the hull camera’s footage from the other day – in particular, the footage you took when that thing ran under the ship’s hull.”

  “Not yet. But I told you before, the cameras came back with nothing but blotchy images. It was useless.”

  “Yes, but those were the starboard cameras, Adam.” Amara held her breath for a moment. “I want to know about the portside cameras. Remember, you told me you had set them for motion sensing only?”

  “The port cameras . . . no, I didn’t erase any of it. I never even thought to – holy crap! Yeah, that footage is completely intact! Do you want me to–”

  “I don’t want you to do anything, Adam. Just guard that disc with your life. Sheriff Braddock and I are en route. We’ll be there before you know it, Amara out.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  As she shoved the radio back inside her purse, Amara couldn’t help but notice the lawman strap on his weighty pistol belt. She moved to the door. “Jake my friend, I think I’ve got proof of our mystery monster waiting for us on the Harbinger. So, let’s move it!”

  His eyes bright, Jake grabbed his gear bag and followed her outside, closing the door of his office behind them.

  Forgotten in the shadow of the computer monitor, the test tube containing the Sayonara’s tissue sample stood guard. Beneath its crystal exterior, the ragged hunk of epidermis spiraled, writhing within the confines of its fluid-filled prison like a thing alive.

  The creature was growing aggravated. Frustrated that the previous night’s hunt failed to produce enough protein for its needs, it lingered near the docks, waiting to see if any additional opportunities presented themselves. It gnashed its teeth as it lurked beneath the surface, watching and waiting. Behind it, the sun scaled the horizon, its gilded rays warming the surrounding waters.

  Finally, the creature lost patience and surfaced with a gurgling hiss. Using its binocular vision, it scanned the landing and surrounding area repeatedly. There was nothing edible to be seen nor had.

  A low grumble of discomfort escaped its scaly lips. It was hungry. Unable to keep the searing effects of its digestive juices at bay any longer, it filled its gigantic lungs and closed its watertight nostril flaps. Submerging slowly, it began to move off.

  Due to the cooler temperatures, the creature’s movements were sluggish at first. Eventually, the heat generated by its exertions warmed it as much as the midday sun would have and it moved faster through the water column. Soon, its enormous body flew through the depths, propelled by perpetual sweeps of its powerful flippers.

  Accelerating to its normal cruising speed, the creature headed toward deeper water. Its jaws were closed tight to reduce drag, its sonar scanning the surrounding seas for miles ahead. It continued to descend, leveling off at the three-hundred foot mark. Changing direction, it arced toward the abyss, hoping to find a meal substantial enough to satiate its irrepressible ne
ed to destroy and devour.

  Amara grimaced as her stomach lurched and her hair flew up, landing in front of her face like a matted spider web. She uttered a groan and held on, pursing her lips and blowing fiercely in an attempt to clear her vision.

  The road they were barreling along on was brutal. Calling it a “road” was generous. Its deep washes and twisting turns looked like the dried up remains of an old riverbed. Swirling clouds of dust and grit made it impossible to see, and unless you were an off-road enthusiast looking for a thrill, it was completely unsuitable for driving on.

  She swallowed a curse as a sudden dip caused her to bite her tongue, then barked at Jake from the passenger seat.

  “Say, this is some ‘shortcut’ you’ve got here, sheriff.” She grabbed onto a handle suspended from the Tahoe’s roof. “If I’d known the road was going to be like this, I’d have worn my sports bra!”

  “Listen, it’s three miles the regular way, or one this way.” The corners of Jake’s mouth twitched as he tried and failed to suppress a smirk. “You want it long, or you want it hard? Which one’s it going to be?”

  “Pig.” Amara grinned amusedly. Then, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself blushing. She turned away, looking past the trees to their right. She could see the ocean through the leaves. “How much farther is it?”

  “We’re just about there,” Jake reached for his cell phone and pressed a preset with his thumbnail. Driving with one hand, he pressed it to his ear. “Hey kid–” he grunted as the powerful SUV leapt over a small hillock. “Did you get what we need?”

  There was a moment of silence as Jake held the phone tight to his head.

  “Really? And nobody knows what happened?” Jake glanced at Amara, then turned back to his conversation. “Okay kid, we’re almost there. I’ll see you in a minute.” He closed the tiny Motorola, clipping it back on his belt.