Terror In The Mist (The Island In The Mist Book 3)

by C. G. Mosley

  “I realize that,” Cold responded. “You must know that this phone call was not an easy one to make. The last time we spoke the conversation did not end on the best of terms. If there was someone else I trusted enough to call, you can be rest assured that I would have called them before you.”

  Jonathon knew what he needed to say, but he was trying to will himself to say it. He glanced back over to where Lucy was standing. She was still under the archway that led to the kitchen. He could see the concern on her face and knew the last thing she wanted to hear was that he had to go back to the island.

  “Alright,” he said softly. “Alright, I’ll go.”

  He watched Lucy’s eyes as they began to fill with tears. Clearly, she knew what he’d just agreed to do.

  “Very good,” Cold replied. He sounded relieved. “Can you get packed and ready to go by 10 p.m. tonight?”

  “Sure,” Jonathon replied. “You sending someone to pick me up?”

  “A car will be there at 10 p.m. on the dot,” Cold replied. “That’ll give you the day to pack and spend a little extra time with your family. It’ll give me the time needed to take care of the last-minute details.”

  “Alright, I’ll be ready,” Jonathon said.

  “Thank you, Jonathon,” Cold said. “I truly appreciate your willingness to help.”

  Suddenly, all Jonathon heard was dial tone. Lucy walked over to him, her shoulders slumped. She looked defeated. She climbed into the recliner with him and he wiped the tears from her face.

  “I’m sorry. I promise you I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he whispered in her ear. “There are people I know that are trapped there. I couldn’t live with myself if they end up dying because I didn’t help out.”

  Lucy took a deep breath. “I understand,” she said softly, and there was unmistakable anger in her voice too. “But that does not mean I have to like it.”

  Chapter 9

  The car that Mr. Cold had promised arrived right on time. It was a black Cadillac and the driver was as quiet and mysterious as every other person that Jonathon had met that had any association with Cold. He kissed Lucy goodbye and promise he’d be back as soon as possible. The short walk from the front door of his home to the car was cold and dreary. Something about the environment around him was unsettling and he hoped it wasn’t some sort of omen warning him of an impending door. He glanced over his shoulder one last time and waved to Lucy. He could see her eyes glistening, probably from tears but he couldn’t be sure. He hoped not.

  The driver piloted the car straight to Jackson-Evers International Airport and shortly after arriving, he drove the car through a gate near the south side of the property. From there, the car rumbled along some sort of short access road that led to a small hangar. Inside the hangar, a Lear jet was fueled and awaiting his arrival.

  “You get out and get on board,” the driver said gruffly as he put the vehicle in park. “I’ll grab your belongings.”

  Jonathon opened the car door and set his sights on the steps that led into the interior of the luxurious looking aircraft. As he ascended, he spotted a familiar face waiting for him just inside the plane. It was Mr. Cold.

  “Welcome aboard,” he said with a wide smile. He held out his hand. Jonathon looked at it for a moment and then slowly took it.

  “Let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we?” Cold said. “Any differences you and I have had in the past can be left right here in Jackson as far as I’m concerned.”

  Jonathon shook his hand and gave him a half-smile as he moved into the plane. Once inside, he found a cushy leather seat near a window and tried to get comfortable. Cold sat in the seat across from him. He was wearing his usual black suit, but there was something different about him. At first, Jonathon was unable to figure it out, but after looking him over for a minute or two, he spotted it. Cold hadn’t shaved. Every time he’d ever laid eyes on the man, his face had been as smooth as a baby’s butt; however this time, it looked as rough as a coarse piece of sandpaper. And he looked tired…very tired.

  Cold crossed his legs as he too tried to relax. He snapped his fingers and an attractive woman dressed in a pants suit moved swiftly to him.

  “Allyson, would you mind bringing us a couple of glasses and a bottle of Scotch?” he asked her.

  Cold and Allyson looked at each other a second too long and it seemed to Jonathon that maybe there was a romantic relationship between the two of them. When Cold turned his attention back to him he contemplated asking, but thought better of it.

  “So I’m guessing we’re heading to the island at first light?” Jonathon asked. He removed his hat and tossed it on the empty seat next to him.

  Allyson returned and placed the two glasses on a tiny tray table next to Cold along with the Scotch. He wasted no time pouring them both a glass over ice cubes. He handed one over to Jonathon and he immediately took a sip. It was strong as he expected, but it was just what he needed to perk up a bit from the exhaustion he was feeling.

  “That’s exactly what the plan is,” Cold replied, turning up his own glass to his lips.

  “You’ve already got a boat ready and waiting for us?” Jonathon asked.

  Cold shook his head and gently placed his now empty glass back on the table. He poured himself another. “Not a boat,” he said. “A plane.”

  “A plane?” Jonathon asked, surprised. Suddenly, he remembered that Eric Gill, a pilot himself, had built a runway on the island next to the compound. “Are you sure the runway will be in a suitable condition to land?”

  “No, of course I’m not,” Cold replied. “If it’s not, we’ll have to make other arrangements. Don’t worry about that part, I just want you to be focused to lead my men once on the ground.”

  “So I take it you’re not joining us?” Jonathon asked, a little aggravated by the realization. It seemed Cold was always eager for others to do his dirty work—and it always had to be done his way.

  Cold shook his head and downed his second glass. “No, but I’m putting you with men that I’d trust with my own life.”

  “And you want me to lead them?” Jonathon asked, a bit perplexed. “I thought I was there to help them navigate and guide them around the dinosaurs.”

  “You are, and that is why I want you to lead them. When you all arrive on the ground, these men will be under your command. The task is very simple: Get into the compound, locate the survivors, and get them out of there. Your knowledge of the island and the dangerous animals on it doesn’t exist with anyone else. I trust you to make decisions that will not only assist my men in finding the survivors, but keeping you and them alive as well.”

  Jonathon shifted in his seat and popped his knuckles. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he’d be ordering four mercenaries around.

  “Cold, why didn’t you get them off that island before the hurricane hit?” he asked suddenly. “Don’t give me that crap about them all volunteering either. What have you got going on that island that is so important four people—three of which I know personally—would risk their lives to stay for?”

  Cold stared at him a moment before finally turning his head and peering out the window. The plane was now rumbling down the runway. He reached down to put on his seatbelt and suggested that Jonathon did the same.

  “We’ve been spending the past two years working with the Troodons,” Cold said, raising his voice slightly to be heard clearly over the high-revving jet engines.

  Jonathon felt a chill run up his spine and he immediately remembered what Silas had recently told him about his last encounter with Troodons.

  “What do you mean, working with them?” he asked, leaning forward. “And I swear if you give me the spill again about trying to better humanity, I will probably jump out of this plane.”

  Cold sighed and rubbed a hand over his dark hair. “I suppose you still believe I’m trying to weaponize them?” he asked calmly.

  “Are you going to tell me you’re not?” Jonathon asked. He felt the plane lift from the runway. For
a moment, he also felt butterflies in his stomach.

  “Our boys in Desert Storm used dogs to assist them in the ground war,” Cold replied. “The dogs are useful tools and in many cases, they save lives. Now if there is a creature on this planet that is even more intelligent than dogs—yet bigger and with more teeth—why would we not take advantage of that?”

  Jonathon took a deep breath through his nose and began to laugh. If he weren’t afraid of the consequences, he probably would’ve punched Cold out right then and there. “Okay, I need you to listen to me,” he said, regaining his composure. “Putting dinosaurs on the ground in a war zone would be an extremely bad idea. These animals are not meant to coexist with man. It is true that the Troodons seemed to have higher than normal intelligence, but they will not allow you to turn them into soldiers. The first chance they get to escape, they will, and when they do, they will get hungry. When they get hungry, they will not only be a huge danger for human beings, but they could create a severely negative impact on the ecosystem.”

  Cold’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head. “You and I will obviously never agree on this topic,” he said. “But you should know that your counterpart Dr. Charlotte Nelson agrees that it can be done. Glenn Hardcastle agrees that it can be done as well.”

  “And one of the first things I’m gonna do when I get in front of them is try to convince them otherwise,” Jonathon countered. “Glenn Hardcastle is there to collect a paycheck and nothing more. Charlie’s participation in this pipe dream is a little more perplexing.”

  “You can try to persuade them if you wish,” he replied. “But remember…they volunteered to stay there. I don’t think changing their minds will be as simple as you think. They’ve invested a lot of time and effort—and have made great strides by the way.”

  Jonathon decided he’d argued the matter long enough. “I think I’m going to get some shut-eye,” he said, reaching for his hat.

  “That’s a good idea,” Cold agreed. “I’ll wake you up when we land and you can sleep some more on the next plane ride to the island. Get all the rest you can because I need you to be sharp when you all arrive.”

  “Well on that, we finally agree,” Jonathon said, leaning back into his seat. He put his hat on his head and pulled it down low over his eyes. Minutes later, he was fast asleep.

  Chapter 10

  Jonathon did not have to rely on Mr. Cold to wake him up. As soon as the plane touched the ground, the aircraft lurched when the tires contacted the asphalt and the slight jerk was enough to bring him out of his slumber. He immediately raised his arms to stretch and then slowly pushed his hat upward and out of his line of vision. It was still dark outside, but he could see the bright lights from the airport where they’d landed.

  “Sleep well?” Cold asked. He was standing over him now and the first thing Jonathon noticed was that he was now clean shaven. His suit was different and he looked much more fresh than he had when he’d met him three and half hours ago.

  “I’ve slept better,” Jonathon replied, rising from his seat. He yawned and rubbed at his now sore neck.

  The plane taxied into a private hangar and as Jonathon hurried toward the exit, he could not help but notice that Cold gave Allyson a peck on the cheek as he made his way to the steps. Once his luggage was retrieved, Cold and Jonathon were ushered into a Chevrolet Tahoe the color of midnight. Even the windows were tinted black.

  “So what’s our next stop?” Jonathon asked as he fastened his seatbelt.

  “Can’t tell you specifics,” Cold replied. “Only that we’re going to introduce you to the extraction team and we will have a briefing on the current situation on the island.”

  “I thought you weren’t aware of what is occurring on the island,” Jonathon said, his eyes narrowed.

  “When I spoke to you yesterday morning, I didn’t,” Cold said. “Since then, we’ve sent a plane over to get a look at the damage.”

  Jonathon’s interest peaked. “So what did you find?” he asked, turning his entire body toward Cold.

  “We found pretty much what we expected to find,” he replied. “There are a lot of trees down from one end of the island to the other.”

  “And the compound? How did it look?” Jonathon asked impatiently.

  Cold’s mouth became a straight line and there was a worried look in his eyes that Jonathon had not seen before. “The hurricane was still a category five when it made landfall,” he explained. “We believed that at worst it would be a four by the time it reached the island…obviously, we were wrong.”

  Jonathon clenched his teeth as he felt his blood pressure rise. “Tell me,” he growled.

  Cold sighed and crossed his arms. “The hangar is gone,” he said. “But for the most part, the other buildings are still standing, though they are damaged significantly. I think it’s fair to say that they held up pretty well, just as we expected.”

  Jonathon felt a momentary relief wash over him, but it was short-lived. “I’ve got a feeling you just gave me the good news first.”

  Mr. Cold looked away and out the window. The sky was beginning to turn a beautiful shade of purple to the east where the sun was beginning to rise. “What we didn’t count on was the storm surge,” he said somberly.

  Jonathon shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled. “Of course a hurricane that size will most likely create a storm surge—and no further away than the compound was from the coast…my God, how bad did it get?”

  “Pretty bad,” Cold replied, turning his gaze back to Jonathon. “We estimate the water peaked at around twenty-five feet.”

  Jonathon looked down to the floor in disbelief. He immediately tried to remember how tall the Triangle Building was, and if he remembered correctly, it was tall enough to escape the water. “Do we know if they are alive?” he asked softly.

  “We do not,” Cold replied. “There was flooding still present throughout the compound, although we figure by the time you all arrive it will be gone for the most part. Fortunately, we made upgrades to the office building Eric Gill had constructed. It is now a five-story structure and has everything they need to stay comfortable until you get there.”

  Jonathon’s eyes widened as he tried to picture a five-story office building sitting in the center of the compound.

  “You will all have blueprints of the entire structure and it should be enough to help you navigate straight to where we believe they probably are,” he added as he noticed Jonathon surprised expression.

  Jonathon cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat. He considered everything Cold had told him, but he felt something was still missing. “What are you not telling me?” he asked finally.

  Cold seemed nervous—or maybe it was anxious. He again turned his gaze to the window where the sky was now turning a shade of orange.

  “We see evidence that the fence was attacked by a very large dinosaur just before the hurricane,” he said. “And other parts of the fencing were blown over during the storm. There is a paddock on the back of the structure where the Troodons were kept and it is now empty. We expected to find the animals dead inside it, from drowning.”

  “Are you telling me they broke out?” Jonathon asked.

  Cold shook his head. “My spotters didn’t see any evidence of that,” he said. “What I fear is that they brought them into the interior cages.”

  “And this surprises you?” Jonathon asked. “I thought that was the whole point of them volunteering to stay there…to protect their work.”

  “Yes, but again, we didn’t count on a 25-foot storm surge,” Cold stammered. “My fear is that the backup generators did not hold up, which means the facility has no electricity.”

  Jonathon rubbed the stubble on his chin and stared at him, unsure of where he was going with this.

  “The locks for the indoor cages are electronic,” Cold explained. “There is a way to lock them manually of course, but in the middle of a hurricane, I just have my concerns
that possibly that little detail could’ve been missed.”

  Jonathon took a deep breath as he felt his heart rate increase. Suddenly, it was becoming clear why there was a sense of urgency to get over to the island. “So you’re telling me that you fear the compound is vulnerable to dinosaurs on the outside because of the broken fencing?” he asked.

  Cold nodded.

  “And you’re concerned that they’re vulnerable inside because you feel they brought the Troodons inside and locked them into cages that basically have a design flaw that can allow them to get out when the power fails?”

  “That is correct,” Cold said just above a whisper. “There are a lot of unknowns and I feel that the sooner we get you to the island, the better their odds are for survival.”

  ***

  Once they were off the plane, another black sport utility vehicle awaited them.

  “Do you guys get some sort of fleet discount for these things?” Jonathon asked sarcastically.

  “Something like that,” Cold replied, opening the rear door for him.

  Jonathon climbed in and was surprised to see that the driver for this vehicle was the same man that had picked him up in Jackson.

  Did he take the same plane?

  Strangely, Jonathon suddenly realized he had not even bothered to ask exactly where they were. He guessed Florida, but the airport looked unfamiliar. Then again, it had been dark when they were taxiing down the runway. The sun began to rise and he noticed the environment around him slowly come alive with color.

  “Cold, where exactly are we at?” he asked, as the man climbed into the vehicle with him.

  “Miami International Airport,” he answered, closing the door.

  “And may I ask where you are taking me now?” Jonathon said, looking out the window.

  Cold looked out his own window and chuckled slightly. “I’m taking you to meet the team that is awaiting your arrival at the next plane,” he replied nonchalantly.