by Rick Poldark
Peter looked around. “Truck? What truck?”
Tracey led him over to the convoy, arm-in-arm, supporting him. “That convoy.”
Peter took in the Humvees with mounted weaponry and the armored vehicle. The truck was black with a back window and four windows on each side. The front two side windows were larger than the rear window set in the back door. The tires were huge, set in angular wheel wells, lending it an aggressive appearance. “Whoa. You guys came better prepared this time.”
A Huey buzzed overhead, and Collins’ radio crackled. ‘Eagle to Chief, we’ve spotted three T. rexes heading your way, three clicks south.’
“Chief to Eagle, copy that,” said Collins. “Move to intercept. Chief out.” He turned to address the group. “Let’s move!”
Everyone dashed to their vehicles. Peter hobbled his way to the armored truck, and Nielsen helped him inside. Nielsen then waved Tracey in and hopped in himself.
“Three T. rexes?” said Peter, his eyes wide. “They’re going to tear through this convoy.”
Nielsen shook his head. “We’ve got helicopter support, not to mention belt-fed grenade launchers on those Humvees.”
A young technician inside the truck beamed when she saw Peter, as if she’d recognized him. However, Peter didn’t recognize her.
Marcy leaned in to Tracey. “Is that him?”
Tracey’s face flushed, and she nodded.
Peter didn’t understand what the exchange was all about, but he had other things on his mind. “Yeah, but three. The chopper said three T. rexes.” His protest was interrupted by the buzzing of a minigun and angry roars. “What…?”
“That would be the chopper tearing through your T. rexes,” said Nielsen, beaming.
As the vehicle lurched forward, Peter felt the percussion of tyrannosaur footfalls growing closer. “Yeah, but can it handle three?”
Tracey slid to the back of the vehicle to look out of the small window. “Peter, you have to see this.”
Peter slid in next to her, while Nielsen looked over their shoulders. Peter saw the Humvees fall behind, trailing the armored truck. “What are they doing?”
“Getting ready to engage,” said Nielsen.
Three tyrannosaurs burst out of the tree line behind the convoy. The Huey followed overhead, laying cover fire from above. Bolts of light erupted from the minigun, pelting the beasts below.
The gunners on the Humvees swiveled around in their ring mounts and fired at the advancing predators. The tyrannosaur leading the charge took the brunt of the attack. It sustained a direct hit to its mouth, and it slowed down, staggered, and dropped, blood oozing from its jowls. The other two picked up the pace.
“I thought T. rexes didn’t run,” said Tracey.
“These do,” said Peter.
The one to the right lowered its head and extended it out, snapping at the Humvee in front of it. The gunner, panicked and thrown off by the tyrannosaur’s sudden change of posture, fired several shots but missed most of them, only tagging it on its right shoulder and blowing off its tiny right arm. Furious, the T. rex pushed forward and roared at the gunner.
The other Humvee picked up speed as the pursuing tyrannosaur snapped at it. However, the predator pumped its muscular legs, keeping pace.
The now one-armed T. rex took several direct hits to its open mouth, the grenades devastating its soft palate and rattling its brain in its skull. It slowed to a walk as it shook its head, its mouth smoking, and toppled sideways into the river with a large splash.
The Huey above redirected focus on the remaining Tyrannosaur, barraging it with bolts of light. It roared in frustration as it dove at the Humvee in front of it.
“See,” said Nielsen, inside the armored truck. “The situation is well in hand.”
Peter, Tracey, and Nielsen startled as two tyrannosaurs came out of the tree line to the right, flanking the two Humvees. Having focused entirely on the rear, the drivers and gunners were taken by surprise. Before they had time to react, the flanking tyrannosaurs pounced on the vehicles, crushing tires under their massive weight. Peter watched in horror as the gunners were plucked from their mounts and voraciously consumed.
“Jesus Christ,” said Collins. He got on his radio. “Chief to base, we’re under attack. Weapons team down, requesting assistance.” His radio only registered static. “Chief to base, we’re under attack, requesting assistance.” There were other strange noises, like distortion.
The chopper hovered over the two Humvees, firing at the two monsters tearing into them. The remaining original tyrannosaur deftly dodged the tangle and continued after the armored truck.
“He’ll never catch us,” said Nielsen.
The armored truck fishtailed, hitting a patch of soggy riverbank. Losing speed as the driver attempted to overcorrect, it slipped in the mud, spinning its wheels as it lurched forward, pushing its way through the soft, muddy embankment. The pursuing T. rex gained on them, closing the gap.
Marcy snarled at Nielsen. “You really need to shut up now.”
It caught up, lowered its head, and rammed the side of the vehicle. Inside, Peter and the others were thrown about as the vehicle slid sideways. Outside, the T. rex staggered on its feet having injured itself with the blow. It was as if it thought the truck was an animal and hadn’t expected it to be so hard on the head.
Peter reached out and stabilized himself as Tracey fell into his lap. Nielsen and Marcy fell on the floor. Tracey pushed herself up.
“Are you all right?” asked Peter.
She held her head. “I think so.”
Nielsen helped Marcy up. “Are you okay?”
Marcy looked shaken. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
The driver gunned the engine, throwing the vehicle into low gear for traction. The wheels spun underneath them, and the back vibrated with the spinning of the axles.
Peter slid over to the slits and peeked outside. He only saw its tail. The T. rex was alongside them, between the armored truck and the river. Peter darted to one of the side windows, Tracey behind him. Nielsen looked out of the other side window. Marcy curled into a ball on the floor, too terrified to look and praying the monster outside would go away.
The T. rex shook its head, like a wet dog trying to dry off. It swept its head back and forth, sizing up the strange, solid prey. It lifted its massive right leg and pinned the hood of the truck with its claws. The driver hit the gas, and the Humvee tried to heave forward, but the weight of the enormous, clawed foot drove the tires deeper into the mud. The truck’s frame groaned under the weight of the theropod.
“We need to get out of here,” cried Tracey.
“We’re safe as long as we’re in the truck,” declared Nielsen. “He can’t get us in here.”
Collins got on his radio, calling for backup. “Chief to base, come in base.” There was static on the line. “Chief to base, come in base.” This time they heard fragments of words. “Damned island.”
The T. rex nipped at the front of the vehicle, its teeth crunching down on metal. Peter heard the driver cursing up front. The vehicle bounced on its suspension as the tyrannosaur pressed down on it with its foot. The tires blew from the pressure as the truck sank into the mud.
“Great,” muttered Collins. “Now we’re stuck.”
“It won’t get us in here,” repeated Nielsen, sounding panicked now. “It can’t get us in here.”
The Tyrannosaurus nipped at the metal a few more times and then backed off, releasing the truck. It stepped away from the metal box, lowering its head so it could sniff it.
“We can’t move,” said the driver from up front, grabbing his rifle. “We’re sitting ducks.”
“Maybe it’ll lose interest after a while and go away,” offered Tracey.
The T. rex stomped around the vehicle, viewing it from all sides, calculating how to get at the tasty morsels inside. It roared at it in frustration, the sound deafening at close range. Marcy crouched on the floor, covering her ears, the roar drowning out her cr
ies.
Tracey noticed Marcy was in distress and sat on the floor next to her. She placed an arm around her. “It’s all right. He can’t get to us in here. We’re safe.”
“For the moment,” added Collins.
Tracey shot him a stern look, but she softened as she stroked Marcy’s hair. “It’s okay. He can’t get us.”
The poor girl had tears streaming down her face. “We’re all going to die.”
“No,” said Tracey. “No, we’re not. We’re safe in here.”
Marcy looked up at Tracey, her eyes big and wet. “What if it doesn’t go away?”
“It’ll go away,” said Nielsen, panting from terror. “It has to.”
Collins glowered and looked out the side window at the circling thunder lizard. “It doesn’t have to do anything.”
“We can wait him out,” said Peter. “We have provisions on this rig, right?”
“We have a dozen go bags,” said Collins. “I hope you like jerky and granola bars.”
“Dehydration will get to us before hunger,” said Peter.
“We have water,” said Collins. “But what we need right now is a plan.”
“We’ll wait it out,” said Nielsen. “Like we said.”
“What if our friend out there doesn’t get bored?” said Collins. “We need a plan.”
“I’m not going outside,” said Marcy, trembling. “No way. Not me.”
Tracey stroked her hair. “Not until it leaves. I promise.”
“Well, I suppose we have to wait,” said Nielsen, turning his back on the pacing predator outside and sinking to the floor. “Dr. Albanese, why don’t you tell us about what prompted the evacuation of the village?”
Peter turned away from the tyrannosaur and leveled his gaze at the Poseidon Tech team leader. “There are things on this island other than dinosaurs. I appeared to have…awakened a race of reptilian humanoids, who proceeded to wage war with the Umazoa.”
Nielsen squinted. “The Umazoa?”
“That’s what we call the indigenous tribe we’re staying with.”
Nielsen nodded. “How did you reawaken this race?”
Peter shrugged. “The lizard men, who reside in a subterranean temple, communicate and store information for historical purposes via these crystal orbs. Mike Deluca had stumbled upon an orb that merged with him, allowing him to control death.”
Collins grimaced. “Merged?”
Peter nodded and pointed at his chest. “Yeah, I merged with an orb that allows me to control life. I can heal myself and others. In some cases, I can even reverse death.”
“Did you…revive any of your team?” asked Nielsen.
“Only those that were still bodily intact. Those eaten by carnivores or totally dismembered weren’t salvageable.”
Collins shook his head. “I don’t believe this. I don’t believe any of this.”
Tracey ignored Collins’ commentary. “Peter, tell him about what was controlling Mike Deluca.”
Peter nodded. “There was something…supernatural that was guiding Mike Deluca, tricking him, influencing him. It wanted off the island. It posed as his deceased wife.”
Nielsen traded knowing looks with Tracey. “The voice on the flight recorder.” He shook his head. “Jesus. That poor man. Mike was devasted by her passing. Cancer.”
Peter hesitated a moment. “It made contact with me.”
Tracey looked startled. “When?”
“Right before you found me inside that Titanoboa. As the snake was swallowing me whole, it offered to help me.”
“Why would it do that?” asked Tracy.
“Because I have something it wants…the death orb. I absorbed it after I killed Mike.”
Nielsen shook his head, struggling to keep up. “Wait a minute. You killed Mike Deluca?”
“He had to,” blurted Tracey. “Mike was murdering everyone.”
“He was barely human anymore,” said Peter, his tone pensive. “He had become a monster. He created living dead out of the Umazoa and even members of our team. Cannibals. It was a nightmare.”
“So, now you have the death orb?” asked Collins.
Peter nodded. “I have both inside me. That’s what you see glowing.”
“How do we know he won’t use it on us?” asked Collins.
“That’s just it,” said Peter. “I don’t know how to use it. That was what that…demon was offering me—the knowledge needed to tap into its power. It saved my life.”
“To what purpose?” asked Nielsen.
“I don’t know,” said Peter. “There’s something else.”
“Oh, this’ll be good,” said Collins.
Peter explained how he entered the temple to attempt to negotiate with the lizard men, to strike a peace accord or truce. “I ran into a particular one who was different than all the others. He was their historian. He was more intelligent than the others I’d encountered. He showed me something, visions of their past. As it ends up, there’s another species on this island, or at least there was. A simian species of ape-like men.”
“Have you ever encountered one?” asked Nielsen.
Peter shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’ve never felt their presence on the island, so I think they’re also extinct.”
“Why do you think he showed you that?” asked Tracey.
Peter shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“So, let me get this straight,” said Marcy, following the conversation. Her voice sounded mousey. “Not only do we have to contend with dinosaurs, but there are also murderous lizard and ape men out there?”
Collins looked out the window. “Hey, looks like our friend is getting bored.”
They all stood up and looked out the windows. The Tyrannosaurus rex stomped off into the trees.
“Great!” said Nielsen. “We can get the hell out of here.” He made for the back door.
“Wait just a minute,” said Peter, grabbing his arm.
“If we’re going to leave, now’s the time,” insisted Nielsen. “Don’t forget, the other two are not far behind.”
“Let’s hear what he has to say,” said Collins. “It’s why he’s here, isn’t it?”
Nielsen huffed in exasperation. “Okay. What?”
“I don’t think it’s really left,” said Peter. He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. His chest glowed under his tattered shirt. “I can feel it.”
Everyone looked out the side windows facing the jungle. “I don’t see him,” said Nielsen.
“Doesn’t mean he isn’t still out there,” said Collins.
There was an explosion in the distance behind them.
“What was that?” asked Marcy, trembling.
Collins frowned. “That was likely our air support.”
“They took down a helicopter?” cried Nielsen, incredulous. “Impossible.”
“They’re smarter than we realize,” explained Peter. “They hunt in packs. They used a flanking maneuver on your Humvees.”
“Pack hunting?” Nielsen looked stunned. “T. rexes?” He turned to Tracey. “You never mentioned anything about their hunting in packs.”
Tracey stammered, taken off-guard and defensive. “It was only a theory…one I didn’t subscribe to.”
Peter came to her rescue. “It’s not her fault. We operate on data and theories derived from digs in our dimension, Mr. Nielsen. The dinosaurs here behave differently.”
“Or your theories are incorrect,” added Collins.
“That’s equally possible,” said Peter, conceding the point.
“Okay, you think it’s still out there,” said Collins. “How do we test that theory?”
Peter looked around the back of the truck at the equipment.
Tracey turned to Marcy. “What kind of equipment do you have on-board?”
“All kinds of sensory equipment, measuring changes in climate…barometric readings, temperature, seismic activity.”
“Do you have an infrasound detector?”
Marcy
nodded. “Yes. It’s an app on my laptop, but I need to hook up the microphone.”
“Of course,” said Peter, obviously amused by something the others weren’t getting. He knew what Tracey was getting at.
“Hook it up,” said Tracey.
Marcy nodded and began to rummage through her equipment strewn all over the back compartment.
“Someone want to fill me in?” asked Nielsen.
“T. rexes use what’s called closed mouth vocalization,” explained Tracey. “They can emit low frequency sound without opening their mouths. Birds can do it.”
“If we can stick a microphone out the window, we might be able to detect it,” added Peter.
“Which would mean it’s out there, waiting for us,” said Collins.
“Here we go,” said Marcy, fumbling with a large, corded microphone. She unraveled the cord, plugged it into her laptop, and opened the infrasound detector application. “Okay…we’re live.”
Tracey reached out and took the microphone from Marcy. She paused, looking at everyone and biting her lip. “Okay, here goes.”
She turned the back handle slowly and opened the back door gradually, wincing as it creaked on its hinges. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for the Tyrannosaurus to come bounding back out of the jungle. Tracey slipped the microphone outside, keeping her eyes peeled for movement.
“I’ve got something,” said Marcy. All eyes were on her. “I’m picking something up…”
“Is it the T. rex?” asked Nielsen.
Marcy shook her head. “No…it’s the river flowing outside. Let me try and filter that out.” Her fingers darted around her laptop keyboard. “Okay…wait a minute…there’s something else.”
“Can you play it on the speakers?” asked Peter.
“Okay.” Marcy hit a few keys, and the sound played over her laptop speakers. It was a low, vibrational sound.
“That’s nothing,” said Nielsen.
Peter and Tracey exchanged knowing looks. Tracey pulled the microphone inside and closed the back door.
“That’s it,” said Peter. “That’s what it sounds like.”
“Horror movies use the sound as part of their soundtrack, in the background, underneath all the other sound,” said Tracey. “It’s used to induce feelings of dread. We’re kind of hardwired to respond to it, from an evolutionary standpoint.”