by Greig Beck
“Snakes?” Ben asked.
“I don’t think so,” Helen still whispered.
“Eggs,” Chess said as he used the toe of his boot to dig into one of the mounds. He succeeded in crushing some of the oval spheres, and the fluid made the spill glisten in the muted light.
Nicolás leaned forward. “I once saw an ostrich egg; they look like this.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Chess crushed another of the eggs with his boot.
“Stop doing that,” Helen hissed.
Something moved within the glutinous fluid, and she moved closer.
“Are they edible?” Buster said, and also began to uncover another mound.
“Gross.” Shawna blew air through her lips and held her gun up. “Looks like an ugly baby bird.”
Helen crouched beside the egg clutch and used her knife to peel open more of the shell fragments. She stared.
“What is it?” Ben asked.
“A bird,” Shawna insisted.
“Bird? I wish it were. This is something far more dangerous.” Helen got to her feet and turned slowly, scanning the surrounding brush. “I think they’re Troodon, otherwise known as wounding tooth theropods. Yeah, Shawna, they’re like birds, but only in that they’re covered in hair-like proto-feathers. But they have jagged teeth, stand about three-to-four feet tall when fully grown and probably weigh in at about 100 pounds apiece. They were one of the few dinosaur species that developed an angled digit like opposable thumbs—only other species to do that were apes and humans.”
“So they’re big turkeys with sharp teeth that can also thumb a ride if they need to,” Shawna sneered, and Buster laughed and bumped fists with her.
“Real funny,” Helen said. “These turkeys eat meat and hunt in packs. They also had the largest brain size per-ratio of any dinosaur. They were damned smart. If they didn’t go extinct, who knows where they might have ended up in the evolutionary pecking order.” She turned to Ben. “We need to get out of here.”
“Let’s go. This way.” Ben began to lead them out.
“Are you brain dead?” Drake seethed.
Ben turned at the sound of Drake’s voice. He saw his friend was glaring at Shawna who was crouching over the nest with one of the eggs in her hand.
“What? Just wanted a souvenir.”
“Well, it isn’t going to be a freaking dinosaur egg, so put it down.” Drake jabbed a finger at her. “Now.”
“Lighten up.” Buster shook his head. “Look around, there’s tons of them here.”
Drake’s jaw jutted. Shawna grinned back at him, but slowly her face began to drop. “Oops, sorry, mama.”
Ben saw that the female merc wasn’t actually looking at Drake, but just over the man’s shoulder. He eased his head around, and then squinted in at the jungle. It was almost invisible in among the foliage, but there was a head sticking from between two fronds. The eyes were large and front facing, and though the face looked heavily boned, he could see black and white down-like feathers covering the crest and neck.
“We got company.”
Ben gripped his weapon, and though the thing was totally motionless, the unblinking gaze was unsettling. Worse was the way the mouth curved at the back and made it look like it was wearing a cruel smile.
Helen spoke with barely any movement of her lips. “It. Won’t. Be. Alone.”
Nicolás nodded to the wall of jungle. “It isn’t; there’s another one in there.”
Ben looked to where he had planned to exit the small clearing and noticed in the dark, green tunnel another set of ruby red eyes peering out. “They’re all around us.”
Chess lifted his gun, racking in standard shells. “Say the word and I’ll make a hole.”
“Let’s try and back out first.” Ben cradled his gun in his hands now, the muzzle pointed at the foliage.
“Like I thought: Troodon. Try and keep facing them,” Helen whispered. “They’ll prefer to attack their prey from behind.”
The group eased backward, one step, two, and then came the wet crunch from behind them.
“Ah, shit.” Buster had planted one of his size 13 boots on an egg mound.
That must have been the last straw, as the herd, pack, or flock of Troodon burst from the foliage with a hiss like airbrakes being engaged. They were fast, and though the gunfire of multiple weapons in the hands of experienced shooters struck home, for every creature they took down, more were disgorged from the jungle.
Ben marveled at their strategy; they usually came in pairs, darting and jinking, and some moved back and forth in front of them, while their pack-mates came at them from the sides. It was a co-ordinated attack, and Ben could see their intelligence at work.
Francis cursed as his shots went wild, and Ben turned to see one of the Troodon hanging onto his already wounded arm. It was bicycling its legs against him, and red stripes appeared on his thigh as long claws on its center toes ripped through his tough jungle clothing.
The huge man then grabbed it by the neck and swung it like a club to the ground twice before flinging its broken body into the jungle.
Shawna changed up her rounds to jam powerful Raufoss into her M82 rifle and the explosive booms were near deafening in the enclosed clearing as she punched big tunnels out into the jungle with each discharge. But for every Troodon she hit, she missed twice.
“Standard rounds,” Ben yelled.
Shawna’s teeth were bared and she aimed again, just as one of the bird-like creatures flew from behind to land on her shoulders. Its backward-curving teeth went for her neck, and its talons stuck like twin daggers into the meat of her back. She screamed her agony, one arm going for the thing and the other waving her gun.
Francis held his damaged arm in close to his body, and simply swung his other arm, massive fist clenched at the beasts’ heads, knocking them over like ten-pins.
Then the big man looked up, meeting Ben’s eyes, and they widened as Ben could see what was coming a mile away. Just as the thing on Shawna’s back flexed again, digging its talons in even deeper, her muscles automatically spasmed and then contracted—including her hand that was still wrapped around the M82’s trigger.
“No…” Ben sprinted and dived, taking the huge Francis around the waist, knocking him down.
Shawna’s gun discharged, wildly, but unfortunately for the large form of Buster who was next in line and busy clubbing one of the beasts, it was aimed directly at him. Worse, Shawna still had her explosive rounds packed in.
One minute, the 6-foot 3-inch man was upright, and then next, the Raufoss round took him between the shoulder blades.
Buster’s top half disappeared in a flash of blood, bone, and gore as his head, neck, and most of his chest was sprayed all over the jungle. Weirdly, he stayed standing for a second or two, and even took a staggering step, before the headless body crumpled to the ground.
“Fuck!” Chess yelled, and then turned to rack and pump shots into the jungle. But as fast as it started, it was over, and the small clearing was filled with smoke, misted blood, and leaf debris that rained down like confetti.
Shawna groaned and rolled over. There were long stripes of blood on her neck and back.
“What happened?” She shook her head and groaned.
“You just fucking killed—”
“Shut it!” Ben yelled and helped Francis up.
“Oh fuck, man; that coulda been me.” Francis stared at the shredded remains of his colleague, then to Ben. “You saved my life.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He slapped his upper arm. “In this place, I’m sure you’ll get a chance to return the favor.”
“We must hurry.” Helen kept her eyes on the wall of jungle. “The big hunters will be here soon.”
“Right; we get the hell out of here, patch ourselves up, and keep going. Now move it.”
Drake dragged Shawna to her feet. She moaned loudly and tried to see over her shoulder.
“Where’s Buster?” She winced as Drake grabbed her arm.
“Gone,” he replied, dragging her after Ben.
“Spread all over the jungle,” Chess spat.
“Aww, those goddamn lizard turkeys,” she replied.
“Yeah, them.” Drake carried her out of the clearing, with the group all hurrying to follow Ben.
CHAPTER 43
The home of gods and monsters, Andy whispered as he stared, both horrified and transfixed—the monstrous snake had wrapped itself completely around the body of a juvenile Ankylosaurus. The powerful herbivore dinosaur was only about 12 feet long, and as an adult would grow to twice that, but it was still larger and more powerful than a full-grown rhino.
The snake began to compress as the dinosaur bleated like a lamb. It struggled, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Andy shook his head and blew air softly from between his lips in awe as he heard the first crack of its heavily armored body.
Unbelievable, he mouthed.
The Ankylosaurus was almost completely covered in massive knobs and oval plates of bone, known as osteoderms or scutes, which were also common on crocodiles. And on these beasts they were so thick and dense they would have been like iron plating.
To add to their defensive kit were two rows of spikes along its body. Additionally, its head was long and low, with prominent horns projecting back and to the sides and shelf-like plates protecting its eyes.
Finally, there was the club on the end of the bony tail that whipped back and forth now, but only managed to kick up dirt.
The snake’s titanic coils compressed some more, and there came popping and cracking all along the body. The Titanoboa kept its head clear, its gaze dispassionate, as its body squeezed the life from its prey.
The pulverizing served two purposes; the first was to suffocate the creature and the second was to compress the thing down to near pulp. Most of the bony plates would be indigestible, but they’d be excreted along with the skull and bone fragments later.
There came more tightening of the coils, and the bleating became hoarse gasps. And then the mouth hung open, and Andy gaped as what looked like some of the Ankylosaurus’ stomach was pressed up and out of its windpipe. At last, an eye popped free, before it finally stopped moving.
The snake would continue to compress, and sure enough, it sensed the battle was over and moved its mouth around to the front of the plant-eater. The maw opened, showing rows of tusk-like backward-curving teeth, as it began to push the head and shoulders into its mouth.
It would take almost an hour to swallow, but it had time, and up here, there were few predators who would take on a fully-grown Titanoboa.
Andy exhaled, feeling scared shitless but exulted. He was a paleontologist, like his sister, and also like her, he specialized in this very creature. But where they had studied bone fragments, he had now seen several specimens alive, and they were more formidable, frightening, and admirable than he ever expected.
He smiled almost dreamily; he knew more about the creature than any person living, now, or in the far distant future. He knew they kept their nests underground, and also weren’t solitary, as they preferred to live in communal habitats. They had all the sensory skills of the large modern snakes like anacondas and boas, plus they were a size that made them the most feared creature on the plateau.
There were still answers to some questions that evaded him—why did they congregate up here? It might just be that there was an abundance of prey, or the micro-climate was ideal, or even that the ancient tepui being riddled with caves was perfect for their nesting sites.
But the biggest and most perplexing question of all was: why did they go extinct? He’d heard all the theories, and even postulated some himself, and they ranged from climate change, to competitive tension from other species for food, to disease, and even a theory that something evolved that preyed just on them and wiped them out.
But he didn’t buy any of it—other large snake species survived, and this monster had all their advantages and many more of its own.
Why aren’t you with us today? he breathed. What happened? Andy backed away slowly, glad that the monstrous thing was feeding and not hunting. Otherwise, it’d be him being pushed into that giant mouth right now.
He gave it one last look. I need to know, and I’ll find out, he thought as he vanished into the jungle.
CHAPTER 44
The home of Gods and monsters
Ben held up a fist and his team froze. He then carefully waved everyone down, and the group eased into the dripping ferns, or any places of concealment they could find. No one said a word; they just waited, all eyes on Ben.
His soldier’s intuition made the hair on his neck prickle. He didn’t need to know that they were being watched; he had felt that for hours now.
After several minutes, Drake crept up beside him. “What have you got?”
Ben looked along the jungle, and then above, and spoke while keeping his eyes on the jungle. “Nothing…and that’s what worries me.” He turned slowly again. “Listen.”
The raucous noise of the jungle had ceased—there were no chirrups, buzzes, or clicks of insects. Nor any squeals and squeaks of tiny animals, or even the thud as clumsy, leathery-winged pterosaurs slammed into tree canopies overhead.
It wasn’t quite total silence as there was the constant drip of moisture in the humidity-laden jungle. But there should have been more.
“Yeah, nothing. You think we got company?” Drake asked, now also scanning the foliage.
“I think something’s out there, watching us,” Ben said and turned to wave Helen up. He then signaled to Chess, pointed at his eyes, and then to the jungle on either side.
Chess nodded and motioned to Francis and Shawna to spread a little into the jungle, where they’d do a quick reconnoiter. Nicolás simply stayed hunkered down with wide eyes.
“That doesn’t look right.” The path or animal tracks they had been following ended at a wall of vines and Ben squinted toward it. “Eyes out while I take a look.”
He eased to his feet and walked carefully toward the end of the track. Oddly, it seemed firm like packed earth or stone beneath his boots, and he pulled his gun in tight to his shoulder.
He used his peripheral vision to track the foliage beside and above him, as he closed in on the unnatural looking wall of green. When he was a few feet from it, he paused and eased his gun barrel forward to part the hanging green drapes. He half smiled.
“Hello again.”
He waved Drake and Helen up to his position. As they approached, he half turned.
“Found an old friend.”
Behind the wall of vines was a stone idol, roughly human-shaped but with the head of a snake. Its lower half was covered in gnarled roots, and the pitted nature of the stone hinted at eons of weathering.
“Look.” Ben pointed with his barrel to the idol’s feet. There were smaller carvings of people, many dismembered or without heads. “Still feeding the snake Gods, I see.”
“This looks far older than the previous ruins we encountered,” Drake said. “What do you think, Helen?”
“Well, humans have lived here ever since they crossed the Bering land bridge around 15,000 years ago.” She scoffed softly. “I mean, from modern times that is. This looks definitely pre-Columbian, and the weathering on this hard stone could make it easily 5,000 to 7,000 years old.”
Drake snorted. “Gotta give these guys full marks for persistence. They kept coming, kept trying to establish outposts or temples, and they kept getting massacred.”
Helen reached out to rub a hand over the degraded snout and fangs. “Well, they regarded this place as the home of Gods and monsters, so they believed that ascending here every 10 years meant they were bringing themselves closer to their Heaven…and their Gods.”
She looked down and wiped aside some of the greenery they stood on. “There is, was, a pathway here.” She scraped some more, and then looked up. “How long did it last this time before their hungry Gods turned into the monsters they feared?”
“Hey, check this out.�
�� Drake had moved to the side and pulled away some monstrous-sized palm fronds. There were steps leading down to a dark passageway that was about six feet around. He sniffed and held his gun up. “Bad news.”
Ben and Helen did the same.
“Yeah, I think we’ve found a nest,” Helen said.
“The natives built it, and the snakes took it over. Just like last time.” Ben turned to see the mercenaries appear out of the jungle. He lifted a finger to his lips and then motioned toward the foliage. “Let’s get out of here.”
The group silently vanished into the dark wetness of the primordial jungle.
*****
From deep inside the lower chambers of the dark cavern, a leviathan Titanoboa’s tongue flicked out to taste the air. Its glass-like eyes were unblinking in the near total darkness, but it saw well with nocturnal, motion sensitive, and also thermal vision.
The fallen magnificence of the room it nested in was lost on its reptilian brain, and the magnificent columns, carvings, and glyphs telling stories of mighty empires that once lived were no more than the rock they were once carved from.
From outside, it detected the tiny exhalations of the creatures at the tunnel entrance, and though it had never sensed them before, an inherited memory was triggered and it became excited by the sweetness of their warm breaths.
It began to slide forward and from beneath it came the sound of crunching as bone fragments, some age-browned and some still with traces of marrow, were pulverized beneath its 5,000-pound body.
At the tunnel entrance, it paused for a moment to taste the air again. It was able to determine the small herd’s number, their size, and the direction they had taken.
The monstrous snake poured forth from the cavern like a green and brown-scaled river, only just fitting through the opening.
It knew its hunting territory and knew what was up ahead. It took to the trees to follow the small herd of biped animals.