The Valley of Tooth & Claw

by Chris McInally

  #

  “Keep to the shadows,” Trevon instructed the others. “Hug the sides of the buildings.”

  All around, the rain continued to fall, hammering the ground. Previously dry and dusty, the soil was now a muddy soup sucking at their boots. Up above, the moon cast a pale silver hue over the village, endowing it with an almost supernatural aura.

  “We have to make for the gate,” Kate called out to Latham.

  “Ssshhh!” Trey raised a finger to his lips, looking over his shoulder at her through the gloom.

  Darting out into the open, the quartet moved toward a larger, longer building over to their left. Making it there safely, they stopped for a spell. Pressed up against the uneven exterior of the wooden structure, the group scanned the water-laden scene nervously. The conditions meant visibility was poor. Beyond the glassine curtain, the world was one of silhouettes and shadows, indistinct and uncertain.

  “What now?” Kate asked Latham in a hushed tone.

  “C’mon, let’s go!” he waved her on. “We can’t wait here all night!”

  They were at the top of the hillock now, not far from the lakeshore. Kate recognized the outline of the erosional fin to their right, the formation cast pearl-black against the crystalline sheet that was the lake below. In the moonlight it looked beautiful, mesmerizing in fact. Still, they didn’t have time to dally.

  Moving down the knoll, the group broke into a run, led by Trevon. Suddenly, two slender objects pierced the watery night! Arcing downward, the missiles landed in the ground just in front of Latham, stalling their advance.

  “Oh, shit!” The merc dug his heels in, skidding a little in the wet mud.

  A fraction of a second later, Kate slammed into Latham’s back, her palms slapping against the PMC’s stiffened shoulder blades. Peering beyond her comrade’s hulking frame the professor’s eyes widened in alarm. At the base of the hill stood a host of tribesmen. Kate’s mind told her there were scores of them despite the lack of light, making it difficult to ascertain their true numbers.

  “Go back!” Trevon barked, turning on his heel.

  Kate spun with him, preparing to flee. They didn’t get far, however. Instead, they found the disfigured warrior, ‘Scarface’, and half-a-dozen of his subordinates waiting for them, two of whom had bows, arrows nocked and all, levelled menacingly in the foreigners’ direction.

  “Damn it!” Professor Miller hissed.

  “Let’s dance motherfucker!” Trevon bawled unexpectedly, stepping past Gregory and Sienna and toward the senior-most warrior.

  “Trey, what are you doing?” Kate yelled at his back.

  Meanwhile, reacting to Latham’s posturing, Scarface’s entourage spread out around him, flanking left and right. In the dark conditions it was hard to keep track of them, their outlines fading in and out of view as they danced in the shadows.

  “No, Trey!” Professor Miller cried again. “Don’t!”

  “C’mon, you ugly motherfucker!” Trevon growled, edging closer to the towering tribesman, casting aside his pilfered spear.

  Kate quickly gauged the two men were more or less evenly matched in terms of height and weight. Indeed, both men had broad chests and rounded shoulders on top of sculpted biceps, their powerful frames held aloft on heavyset legs. On the face of it, it would be a fair fight. Still, Miller couldn’t help but think Trey was being foolish. What did he think he was going to accomplish? Did Trey think if he could beat the big guy then the others would just let them leave?

  “Trey, what are you doing?” Kate called after her friend a third time.

  Meanwhile, Scarface tossed his axe aside, letting it splash in the wet mud at his feet. Next, he spread his arms wide, daring Trevon to attack, showing off his muscular physique in the moonlight. At the same time, the tribesman’s friends further widened their perimeter around them, circling like a pack of feral dogs. As all this went on, Kate’s eyes darted frantically about the darkened scene. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, trapped as they were between the two indigenous hosts.

  This was a stupid idea, she thought, regretting their attempt at escaping.

  Latham was only a few feet from the big fella now.

  “Let’s do this!” Trevon advanced, eyes fixed firmly on the warrior, ready for action.

  Movement off to Kate’s left abruptly drew her attention away from the mercenary. It was one of Scarface’s subordinates, the Amazon maneuvering in Trey’s blind spot.

  “Trey!” Miller shrieked, trying to warn him.

  But it was no use. She was too late. Besides, Latham was locked in on the tribal leader. And because of this he never saw the other Amazon… or the man’s weapon. There followed a god-awful crack! as the butt of the junior warrior’s axe came down on the base of Trevon’s skull. The mercenary fell to his knees, dazed from the unforgiving blow. Semi-conscious, his head sagging, the man somehow managed to remain on his knees. Scarface trudged towards him, leering at his downed foe, the man’s crescent-shaped scar flexing as his mouth contorted mockingly. Kate’s heart skipped a beat then. Stunned, she watched as the Amazon stopped a few feet from the concussed Latham. Appraising the mercenary for a second, Scarface stared down at him but said nothing. Then, without warning, he let loose with a savage kick, driving his shin Muay Thai-style into the side of Trevon’s skull!

  Professor Miller screamed, her voice piercing in the night as she rushed to her companion’s aid. Before she knew it however, the unsuspecting woman’s face collided with something hard. As to what it was, she had no idea. Nor would she ever find out. In any event, the subsequent pain was the last thing the woman remembered before crashing face-first into the mud.

  CHAPTER 14

  A resounding, bass-filled thrum˗ boom! boom! boom!˗ roused Professor Miller from her unconscious state. Even so, it was some time before the world made sense to her again, all the while the rhythmic tone played over and over, slow and steady, somewhere in the background.

  Senses gradually returning to her, the geographer found her shoulders ached; a burning feeling rooted deep in both sockets. Added to this, pins and needles ran the length of her arms. Discomforted by this, Miller tried to move her fingers but found them largely unresponsive, the woman barely managing to conjure a twitch from any of them.

  “What the hell?” Kate said groggily to herself.

  She craned her neck up and down, left and right, searching for an answer. It was then Miller discovered she was bound. A pair of tall, gnarled, wooden posts stood one on either side of her, lengths of coarse rope securing the woman painfully by the wrists. With her feet free however, she was forced to hang from the posts in an uncomfortable quasi-spread-eagle pose. Continuing to inspect her surrounds, Kate suddenly realized it was no longer nighttime. Rather it was early morning, the sun’s golden corpus rising in the distance.

  How long have I been out? Professor Miller wondered silently.

  “Glad you could join us,” said a familiar voice, interrupting her train-of-thought.

  It was Trevon. Like her, he was secured between a pair of wooden pillars, the man situated about six or so feet off to her right. Beyond Trey was Professor Trentham, similarly manacled. Looking left next, Kate discovered the last of their group, Sienna Clementine. The blonde-haired woman was a blubbering mess, rambling away to herself as tears streamed down her wan face.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The mysterious beat continued, its volume rising.

  “Where is that coming from?” Kate asked, still fighting the haze in her mind.

  “Behind us,” Latham signaled awkwardly with a flick of his head.

  Miller rotated her neck, brown eyes scanning. Kate gasped with fright when the crowd of onlookers came into focus. Men, women and children, led by the grey-haired shaman, watched the four captives intently. Next to the holy man stood a drummer, a wiry adolescent, thumping away with a pair of padded sticks on a rawhide base.

  BOOM! BOOM! The youth hit the drum harder, his face expressionless.

  Too frigh
tened to keep her eyes on the throng of people, Miller turned away, the fear building in her. It was then she realized just exactly where she was, her world finally coming into focus. The geographer and her companions were positioned at the end of the erosional fin. In fact, the structure widened here, similar to a whale’s fluke, something which she hadn’t realized before. As such, it provided just enough room for the shackled quartet to be put on display side by side.

  Beyond this, stretching out before them was the village’s adjoining lake, its surface sheening in the early morning light. Miller quickly noticed a rounded object (a rock, she presumed) positioned virtually dead-centre in the lake. Inspecting it more closely, Kate found it was almost perfectly curved; a massive island-like hump rising out of the still water. At that moment, she wasn’t entirely sure of its size. But it was big, nonetheless. Strangely, she didn’t remember it being there yesterday. Surely, she would have remembered such a significant landmark?

  All of a sudden, Kate sensed someone at her side… and that someone wasn’t Trevon Latham. Shifting her gaze, Kate was confronted with the weathered visage of the tribe’s shaman, the man’s wrinkled cloak of skin hanging from his shrunken skull. Despite his close proximity, the old man didn’t bother to look at Professor Miller. Instead, he ignored her. Peering ahead, he stared out over the water, seemingly lost in contemplation.

  What has him so transfixed? Miller wondered.

  Without so much as a word to Kate, the shaman stepped forward. Moving to the edge of the fin, he did not rush. Instead, the old man took his time. Kate’s eyes bulged when she saw the crudely fashioned dagger in his right hand. Not to mention the dark, bristle-coated creature clutched in the other; held by its ankles, the hooves at the end of its hindlimbs just visible. It appeared to be some kind of rodent, albeit one of significant size, equivalent perhaps to a large terrier. The creature’s face, or rather what she could see of it, reminded Kate of a guinea pig, although rounder and considerably larger.

  Capybara… A memory of a trip to the zoo with her parents as a child unexpectedly flashed in Kate’s mind.

  Professor Miller noted, admittedly with a hint of sadness, that the big rodent wasn’t moving. This led her to assume it was either stunned or more likely already dead. Kate couldn’t help but wonder what the old man intended to do with the beast.

  Then it hit her.

  It’s an offering… but to what?

  Miller’s eyes instinctively darted back toward the lake. To her horror, the hump from before was now gone. In fact, there was no sign of it whatsoever. Strangely, the body of water appeared calm, unnaturally so, its surface pristine and unmoving. Not even a ripple was in sight.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The drums sounded again, causing Kate to flinch.

  Taking his cue from the beat, the shaman roared to the heavens above, lifting his arms in turn. Kate jumped with fright once more, shocked by the unexpected action. All the while, the priest called out over the lake, capybara and knife in each hand. Miller couldn’t be sure, but she suspected he was offering up a prayer to his god… or was it gods?

  Please don’t be more than one… Kate prayed silently. What am I saying? Don’t let there be any at all!

  BOOM! BOOM!

  Slowly, the old man turned to face Kate and her friends. His expression was blank. Totally devoid of emotion, he appeared neither happy nor sad. After a second, he zeroed in on Kate. Only then did some semblance of emotion flicker across his aged façade. His brow furrowed. Yet more creases came to line his forehead, the man’s eyes locking with Professor Miller’s own. In this moment, Kate knew what he was going to do before he even did it.

  With a flick of his wrist, the ancient drew his dagger across the capybara’s stubby neck, slicing its exposed throat in a shower of gore! Blood sprayed, coming in a single powerful geyser, dousing the man’s feet as well as the ground about him. Then without so much as a second thought, he turned back toward the lake and threw the rodent out over the water. The subsequent splash was cut short by the cheers of approval sent up by the engrossed crowd at Kate Miller’s back.

  BOOM! BOOM! The drums sounded yet again, drowning out the villagers’ cries.

  Meanwhile, the shaman edged towards Kate, his blade dripping with syrup-like gore. Professor Miller tensed, unsure of what the man intended to do. Was she about to become another offering? Stopping by her, he casually cricked his neck in her direction. Facing the geographer for the briefest of moments, the suggestion of a smirk played over his cracked lips… then the ancient disappeared out of view behind her. Professor Miller’s eyes inevitably travelled back to the lake. Several long seconds passed. Nothing happened. The water remained tranquil and blue, albeit tinged golden in places by the sun.

  Then she saw… it.

  Something dark proceeded to pierce the water about a hundred-and-fifty feet out, maybe more, resulting in a foaming wake. The object steamed forward like a breaching submarine rising from the ocean’s depths, slow and orderly. Kate’s first thought was: fin. As such, she waited for the point to appear, but it never came. Instead, the shape extended for a distance, appearing at least as first as a trailing, scar-like gouge in the water’s otherwise peaceful, crystalline vista. Before long it grew taller, like some kind of rising partition. Liquid cascaded off it, falling in waterfall-like streams from its sides. Curving off at each end, the shape was roughly semi-circular; thin but nonetheless solid. It was the ‘hump’ from before, albeit positioned face-on now, Kate was sure of it. Upon closer inspection, Professor Miller was intrigued to note the object’s sides were ribbed like a sheet of corrugated iron. Only then did she come to understand the body part was a sail. It was less than a hundred feet away by this point. Behind it an eel-like appendage soon emerged as well. Thick and tapering to a point, the limb appeared to slither in the water.

  A tail! Kate surmised.

  Eventually, pieces of the cranium appeared to the fore of the grooved sail. The nostrils came first, akin to a surfacing alligator. This was followed by the angular brows of the eyes, and lastly the crown, rounded off as it was. With this the creature’s head finally appeared in all its glory, supported by a sturdy S-shaped neck. Kate Miller’s eyes widened in disbelief. Possessed of a long set of narrow jaws, ending in bulbous nostrils and not to mention lined by vicious, stake-like teeth, the head was roughly crocodilian in composition.

  Still more of the beast came.

  Although the creature’s corpus was positioned parallel to the lake’s surface, it didn’t move on all fours as Professor Miller first suspected. In fact, she was surprised to find that it was bipedal like a tyrannosaur, moving on two powerful scale-laden legs. As for its forelimbs, these were long and muscular, extending away from its chest, hanging somewhat limply from its relatively slender frame. At the ends of the latter were onyx claws sprouting from three digits; one thumb and two fingers apiece.

  It’s huge! Kate thought fearfully.

  Save for its dull yellow underbelly, the dinosaur’s hide was an olive shade of green, mottled with camouflage-like black marks. As for the sail on its back, Kate soon came to realize it wasn’t dark as she had initially thought. Rather it was a vibrant, swirling mixture of yellow, orange and red. How she hadn’t picked up on this detail before she was unsure. Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, or simply too far away for Miller to properly decipher.

  “Oxalaia quilombensis,” Trentham breathed its name, his tone a mixture of horror and awe. “It’s a spinosaur.”

  Churning the water into foam with each heavy step, the mighty carnivore drew nearer. Angling towards them, it soon became obvious the creature was consciously making for the fin. Indeed, it had been drawn to them by the shaman’s offering. There was no doubt about it. Kate knew then that she and her companions were not the first to be sacrificed to this behemoth.

  Beside Kate, Sienna began to scream, the terrified woman recoiling from the encroaching killer. The petite woman jumped and jerked, kicking her legs in the air, screeching shrilly a
t the same time. Still, try as she might, Sienna remained helplessly tethered, unable to muster the strength necessary to break free from her bondage.

  “I’m not hanging around for that thing to eat me!” Trevon started to struggle as well, seemingly finding inspiration in the hysterical figure of Clementine.

  Veins bulged under his dark skin, the man’s biceps flexing as he contorted in place. Trentham quickly followed suit. As did Kate. Behind their struggling forms, the villagers and their leader observed silently, seemingly transfixed at the sight of the huge reptile.

  This is their God, Kate understood, watching the spinosaur thunder towards her group, water continuing to lather under its huge clawed feet.

  The titan was close now, about fifty feet, give or take. What’s more, it was closing fast. Its olive body, still wet, glistened in the daylight. Behind it, the reptile’s serpentine tail swayed slowly from left to right. By Professor Miller’s calculations, the animal must have measured close to forty feet from snout to tail.

  Next to Kate, Trevon continued to struggle. Refusing to give up, his arms were awash with sweat now. In addition to this, blood poured from the collection of wounds scratched into his wrists by the harsh lengths of rope holding him. Unperturbed by any of this, the man grunted and cried out, fighting through the pain.

  “C’mon!” he yelled through gritted teeth.

  What’s the use? Miller asked herself, finally accepting defeat.

  With the massive beast stalking towards her, Kate saw no point in fighting any longer. As far as she was concerned, it was only a matter of time before it made a meal of them. And so, the geographer let her body slump forward, her chin coming to touch her chest. Exhausted, Professor Miller panted, hot bursts of air seeping from her weary lungs.

  “It’s over, Trevon,” she heard herself say to him in a low voice, her tone unapologetically flat.

  Feeling a little lightheaded, Kate Miller let her eyes close over. Still, they didn’t remain shut for long. A deafening roar shocked the woman back to attention! Miller’s neck snapped backwards in response, forcing her lolling skull up off her chest. The professor’s eyelids blinked rapidly as the startled woman took in the unreal sight before her.