The Valley of Tooth & Claw

by Chris McInally

  “Damn it!” the mercenary spat, his head sinking in defeat.

  Head and neck bent as they were, Campbell’s blue eyes inevitably travelled to the rainforest floor. They widened almost immediately when he saw it was littered with myriad imprints. Footprints actually. Many of them, almost all of them in fact, belonged to barefooted individuals, as evidenced by the distinctive outlines of toes. Although that being said, several of the prints sported tread marks.

  Boots… Elias surmised.

  He thought of his friend Trevon and Professor Miller, as well as the others, anxiety gripping his chest. They were still alive. But for how long was another matter entirely. There was little doubt in his mind that Miller and the others had been taken captive. Elias instinctively knew he had to be quick about it, if he was going to save them. Prisoners of war were rarely treated well. Many didn’t survive long in the clutches of their enemies. Still, he needed supplies if he was going to mount a rescue mission.

  Turning on the spot, Elias left the crashed SUV behind, returning to the remnants of the main convoy. Beelining it towards the lead truck, Campbell made for the rear of the big SUV. He needed munitions and plenty of them: magazines, clips, explosives, flash-bangs, you name it. Pulling open the Suburban’s back end, Elias spotted a rucksack.

  Perfect! crowed an inward voice.

  Not wasting any time, the mercenary grabbed the empty carrier, unzipping it. He located the ammo-box next, although admittedly it was hard to miss. Flicking open the long, cuboid container, the Scot scavenged magazines for his G36 and clips for his Glock. After this, he began sifting hectically through the box’s complement of grenades, his azure eyes hungry. Much of the ordnance, like the munitions, was bunched together in lots and kept in small, transparent re-sealable bags; the idea being these would protect the ammo and such from the humidity.

  It took Elias no more than ten minutes to find everything that he needed. By the end of it, he felt like he was ready to wage his own little war. Actually, that’s exactly what the Scotsman intended to do. There was just one more thing.

  Next to the pillaged ammo-box, Campbell found the last piece of equipment he sought. Grabbing his personal SAT-phone (which had the capability of doubling as a field-radio), the merc commander wasted no time punching in his access code. Device unlocked now, his comm-link was operational, connecting him to Slaine Industries’ own private security and communications network.

  “Come in Slaine Industries HQ,” Elias spoke into the cuboid device, “this is expedition leader, Commander Elias Campbell, call-sign: ‘Reiver’. Come in, HQ. Do you read? Over.”

  Several seconds of harsh static sounded, the moments ticking by like hours for the anxious man.

  “Reading you loud and clear, Reiver,” said a tinny voice. “Go ahead. Over.”

  Elias felt a wave of relief hit him upon hearing the voice. Although a little warped, the voice sounded male Campbell decided.

  “Expedition has suffered severe casualties,” Campbell grimaced as he spoke, his voice shaking slightly. “We were ambushed by natives and… local fauna,” he hesitated on this last piece of information. “Security team has been virtually wiped out and our civilian contingent has been taken hostage. That being said, I am in pursuit. Requesting emergency evac. Over.”

  The comm-link went silent once more. Desperate for a response, Campbell began chewing his bottom lip. “C’mon, c’mon,” he growled to himself, staring at the now quiet radio.

  “Proceed with rescue mission,” the voice returned, “once you have located Ms. Clementine, radio in coordinates and we will provide evac choppers as needed. All other personnel are secondary. We will put choppers on standby. Please confirm receipt of these instructions, commander. Over.”

  Fucking Clementine, he thought angrily. Never mind everybody else.

  “Confirmed,” Elias grimaced. “One more thing, HQ.”

  “Go ahead, Reiver,” said the voice.

  “I need a satellite sweep of my current location,” Campbell said. “We should be able to locate Clementine and the others that way. Over.”

  “Negative, Reiver,” the voice told him. “Satellite won’t be available for three to four hours. Over.”

  It’ll be too late by then, Campbell thought. I need it now!

  “Over and out.” Elias slid the radio inside his backpack with a sigh.

  Throwing the rucksack’s straps over his shoulders, Elias Campbell turned to leave the convoy behind. Next, flicking the safety off his G36, the Scotsman once again abandoned the snaking passage for the jungle proper. Returning to the crashed truck once more, Campbell set about inspecting the collection of tracks left behind by the natives and their prisoners, his charges. They all went in the same direction ˗ deeper into the jungle.

  “Time for some payback,” Elias snarled.

  CHAPTER 10

  Piercing the tree-line’s façade, the theropod found itself poised at the edge of a narrow clearing; a passage of sorts. The meandering laneway appeared to extend into infinity, going both left and right. The carnivore instantly noted the presence of four unusual, bulbous objects, each one big, black and shiny. Not to mention held aloft on four peculiar circular appendages.

  Their existence, out of place as it was amongst the green and brown canvas, gave the beast reason to pause for a second. Halting its advance, the hulking brute inspected the objects from a distance. Overcome with curiosity, it craned its thick neck left and right, allowing its yellow-gold eyes to trail over them. As far as the creature could tell, the black things didn’t appear to be alive. And so, deciding they didn’t pose it any kind of a threat, the scaled being stepped out into the open some moments later.

  The carnivore was drawn to this site by the stench of blood carried on the afternoon breeze. Olfactory senses working overtime now, the dinosaur’s craterous nostrils twitched excitedly at the prospect of an easy meal. Ultimately, it wasn’t disappointed by what it discovered. The ground was littered with carcasses, two of which were saurian like itself; although they were significantly smaller and belonged to a different species. However, these were of little concern to it. Rather, the predator was interested in the assemblage of mammalian cadavers strewn about the place, the scent of which it found most tantalizing. These were a delicacy to it.

  Moving toward the middle of the path, footsteps booming rhythmically, the scavenger used its pinched snout to sift through the gore-ridden platter about its feet. Snapping away hungrily with its banana-shaped fangs, the killer dined on the myriad morsels seemingly laid out for it. Ultimately, the theropod took its time in devouring the bloody scraps. After all, there were no other predators around for it to contend with. There was no rush. And so, reveling in its bloodlust, it was some time before the marauder finally took notice of another equally intriguing scent permeating the area.

  This new odor was similar to that of the bipedal mammals the saurian was currently dining on. Although, the smell was decidedly fresher; its pungency much crisper by comparison. This prey was still alive it seemed. What’s more, it was on the move. Interest piqued, the reptile let its current meal fall half-chewed from its parted maw. Plop! The gruesome collection of crushed bone and garbled flesh landed in a bloody, sludge-like pile beneath the dinosaur. Stepping off, the towering reptile made for the opposite edge of the clearing, each step thunderous. BOOM! BOOM! The ground trembled as if in fear of the imposing creature.

  Led by its nostrils, the hunter found another of the strange black things, this time nestled amongst the foliage of the rainforest proper, albeit squashed against a tree. The smell of the mammals was heavy here. A rush of adrenaline hit the killer’s system then. Arching its head toward the rainforest’s canopy, the dinosaur let its jaws part before delivering a murderous roar that swept through the surrounding jungle! The subsequent warning carried for miles, north and south, east and west: the hunt was on.

  #

  “Here,” Kate pulled the black cap from atop her head, offering it to Professor Trentham.<
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  For the last few hours Greg had been trudging along silently beside Miller, his head hung low. Transformed into a shadow of his former self, the biologist had been stripped of his dignity by the simplest of acts. Still, it was less about the smack to the face Gregory was forced to wear, and more about the result of said act. His ‘unveiling’, one might call it.

  “Thank you,” Trentham smiled as he took the cap from Miller, his expression meek but nonetheless appreciative. These were the first words Greg had uttered to anyone in hours.

  Up until this point, it had been a lonely trek through the maze of emerald for Professor Miller. Despite the fact of course that she was surrounded by people. For obvious reasons, Trentham hadn’t exactly been a chatty-Cathy. On top of this, she and Greg were separated from Sienna and Latham, who were positioned at the head of their traipsing procession. All in all, it proved to be a rather tedious experience for the woman. It was like the truck ride all over again, only this time on foot which made it infinitely worse.

  In the end, Gregory’s melancholy and accompanying silence finally broke Kate. Unable to handle looking at his sullen expression any longer, Miller decided she had to do something about it. Remembering the baseball cap on her head, she gifted it to Professor Trentham in hopes of cheering him up and restoring some of the man’s lost confidence, not to mention dignity.

  Some might have found it pathetic for an individual to mourn the loss of his hat. But Kate knew it was about more than just the hat itself. Regardless of who they are, everyone has their own eccentricities and idiosyncrasies. Or in Gregory’s case, insecurities. In Kate’s estimation, he was the type of man who, in his prime, likely viewed his hair akin to a lion’s mane, as if it somehow symbolized his masculinity.

  Turning to face her, Professor Trentham halted, placing the cap on his head. Kate stopped with him, the pair standing quietly for a moment. They watched one another, each a little uncomfortable and unsure exactly what to say to the other.

  “How do I look?” Greg finally managed to break the silence, showing an uncharacteristic degree of humor about it.

  “Ravishing,” Kate laughed gawkily, her hazel eyes twinkling with a genuine warmth.

  Miller was surprised how good it felt to joke despite their dire predicament. The pair’s newfound jovialness didn’t last for long, however. A sudden pain in Miller’s lower back, sharp and hard, shocked her back to the here and now.

  “Ow!” She turned sharply on the spot to find one of the natives behind her. “What the hell?”

  Venom in his eyes, the Amazon glared at Professor Miller. All the while, the tip of the man’s spear hovered barely an inch from her bruised spine. A little puzzled, it took Miller a moment to realize what it was she had done to incur his wrath. Then it hit her. They had stopped moving. This was a no-no and Kate should have known better.

  ‘Keep moving!’ the warrior’s eyes seemed to say to her.

  “Asshole,” Kate hissed at the tribesman, knowing that technically he couldn’t understand her. Even so, she was sure he got the gist of what she was saying. As one might expect, the woman’s eyes were hesitant to leave his spear.

  This wasn’t the first time that day one of their party had been disciplined for slowing down or stopping altogether. Indeed, after traversing a shallow swamp some miles back, the injured Latham was too slow on starting the next leg of their journey for the group’s abductors. Ultimately, he had received much rougher treatment than Kate had just experienced. Under the circumstances, she counted herself lucky.

  And so, hands tied in front of them and flanked by their kidnappers, Miller and Trentham started moving once more. As to where they were headed, God only knew. Save for the swamp, their march had been a decidedly repetitive one. Like an old side-scroller game, they were forced to fight their way through a seemingly endless tangle of vegetation and wood. It had been a long day. Sadly, it appeared to be far from over. Sweat peppered Miller’s brow by this point. To be honest she felt disgusting, and she was exhausted to boot. Worse still, Kate was gripped by an enduring feeling of anxiety. She supposed it was the uncertainty of her situation.

  What will happen to us? she pondered. What do they intend to do with us? Her eyes trailed from one native to another.

  “This is your fault!” Kate heard Sienna yell suddenly. “You and that asshole, Campbell!”

  Looking to the fore of their group, Professor Miller caught sight of Sienna Clementine posturing toward Trevon, yelling at him with an accusing finger in his face. Like herself and Trentham, the others were surrounded by their own contingent of ochre-skinned guards, the latter group watching Sienna and Trey with a sense of curiosity.

  “You should have been better prepared!” Clementine went on furiously, her blonde hair shining in the day’s gradually dimming light. “Better weapons… b-better… better everything!”

  Kate couldn’t watch this. She slid past Greg, staring daggers at Sienna. Behind her, the warrior from before barked something at the geographer, but she paid him no attention this time around. More than likely, he wanted her back in line. Regardless, Kate headed straight for Sienna and Latham.

  “Slaine Industries provided the intelligence,” Trey snapped back at Sienna in the meantime. “Or did you forget that little detail, Ms. Clementine? It was your company’s satellites and drones that surveyed this whole region in preparation for the expedition. If there was anything to pick up on then your satellites should have identified it. Plain and simple.”

  “That’s not the point!” Sienna snapped at the PMC, sounding a lot like a bratty teenager who refused to concede. “You should have been better prepared!” she repeated the accusation, albeit with a little less vehemence than before.

  “We should’ve expected an attack by dinosaurs?” Trey looked at her incredulously. “Is that really what you’re saying?” He took a quick breath. “In case you haven’t noticed there’s some pretty spectacular out-of-this-world shit going on around here! How could we ever have expected what happened back there to actually happen?”

  Kate was only a few paces from Clementine now. The anger was building rapidly with each rushed step that she took.

  “Mr. Slaine paid good money for your services!” Sienna glared at Trevon. “You were paid to protect us!”

  “Well you’re alive, aren’t you?” Latham tilted his head to one side, evidently tiring of her antics.

  Sienna’s eyes narrowed instantly, the blue-green spheres glistening with rage. Then she launched at him, the little blonde letting loose with an angry roar. Lunging, she clawed at Trevon’s face, who in turn jerked himself backwards. Yet, she failed to make contact. Before anyone could stop the oncoming geographer, Kate was in between Trey and Sienna. Hands tied as they were, she lurched her head forward, driving her forehead into Clementine’s nose. There was a short craaack! like someone snapping their fingers, and with that Sienna was on her plump little ass, her eyes watering and left wide with disbelief! Blood trickled from both her nostrils, running over the woman’s top lip.

  “I’ve had about enough of your shit!” Kate towered over the downed executive.

  “Daaaaamn!” Trevon laughed in the background.

  “Oh my…” Greg added his voice, sounding a little like George Takei.

  “H-h-how dare you…” the executive stammered, still on the jungle floor.

  “Now is not the time for recriminations,” Miller went on matter-of-factly. “We’re in this mess together, whether we like it or not. So put your ‘big girl pants’ on and get in the game! Otherwise we won’t make it out of this hellhole alive. Campbell will come for us. I’m sure of it.” She said this despite knowing if the Scotsman was even still alive.

  It was several seconds before Kate realized the entire procession had ceased moving˗ purely on account of her. All eyes were on her and Clementine. So bad was it that Professor Miller felt her cheeks burning from all the attention.

  “Someone help her up, please.” Kate spun on her heel, walking away.
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br />   CHAPTER 11

  Forehead slick with sweat, Campbell broke the tree-line to find himself perched on the fringes of a swamp. Whereas behind him and off to his left the jungle continued, in front and to his right there stretched a carpet of liquid turquoise. Almost uninterrupted, the waterscape before him was however punctuated by the occasional knot of tall, reedy grass. Largely devoid of trees as well, the shallow body of water extended away from him for several hundred meters or so, its crystal-like surface shimmering as it captured what remained of the fading daylight.

  Until stumbling upon this spit of swampland, Elias was beginning to think the rainforest would never end. In fact, the thought had occurred to Campbell that he was simply going around in circles. Under the circumstances he supposed it was always a possibility. Yet, regardless of these reservations, the mercenary somehow found the confidence to keep going. Pushing onward through the near-suffocating menagerie of vegetation and vines, Campbell followed the trail of prints left behind by his quarry. His training told him they had to lead somewhere. Ultimately, they would lead him to his charges: to Trevon and Kate, and the others. That was the plan, anyway.

  The only problem with the commander’s strategy was that the tracks ended abruptly at the edge of the swamp. Elias assumed, or perhaps hoped was the more appropriate word at this point, the prints would resume somewhere on the opposite side of the waterway. Realistically though, there was no way of telling if this was the case until he made it to the other side.

  Just gets better and better, doesn’t it? said an inside voice. If it isn’t one thing it’s another.

  Still, as difficult as his trek was proving in some regards, Elias could at least take some solace in the fact that he was making good time. He had covered a significant distance in a relatively short period of time. Indeed, whilst Campbell may not have been as fit as he was during his time in The Regiment, he remained in good physical condition. A lesser man would have given up by now, of that much Elias was sure.