Crucible of a Species (30 page)

Cold, deadly eyes of the tyrannosaur scanned the area, its attention focused by the scent of the dying human. A mighty leap of the predator carried it beyond the berm. Its brother, two sisters and mother quickly followed. Other packs deeper in the jungle sensed the sudden movement of this first group of killers. They caught the scent of the five predators moving on the other side of the hated barrier and realized the irritation of the AutoSentinel towers was gone from this section.

Hot rays of the morning sun blazed across charging packs of deadly hunters of all sizes and species swarming towards the slender neck of the peninsula. They quarreled, screamed and fought as they pushed into the narrow breach on the defensive strip. Their movements tore open the earthen berm of the humans as they passed onto the peninsula like a fan of boiling liquid streaming out through a small hole in a bowl.

Their world changed as they emerged on the plateau-side of the berm. The AutoSentinels behind them directed their search pattern outward towards the mainland and away from the plateau. Now, inside the camp of the humans, the emanations and irritation of the defense barrier were no longer there. Highly sensitive olfactory organs discovered new scents saturating the plateau. There was the sharp, oddly salty scent of foreign blood and, for the first time, their sensitive noses gathered the deep smell of mammal musk permeating the air brought on by the presence of so many humans.

Mammals had existed in this world for more than a hundred million years but they were small, insignificant creatures rarely noticed by the dinosaurs. Never before, in the history of the planet had this unique scent filled the air with such an inviting pungency.

Only one irritation remained to annoy the predators. Here, amidst all the strangeness, they noticed a different but still infuriating radiation rising from down the plateau. It was only a shadow when felt on the other side of the berm but now it screamed to them from the Argos.

*~~*~~*~~*

A dust-covered and very tired
Midshipman Thornsen exited the field hospital with Sgt. Martel. Gone was the excitement each new day usually brought, “I’m beat, Sarge. I’m heading back to my shower before even trying to grab some breakfast.”

They had spent a long, stressful night helping Ensign Petrika, most of the time just running back and forth to the ship for supplies not yet unloaded. Small catnaps in a corner of the facility between running errands for Dr. Graeme had helped but it never fully provided the needed rest.

Martel slapped his field cap on his head before stooping over to pick up his rifle and pack, “I’ll head back with you, ma’am.”

“Well, thank you but I know what you’re doing. I think I can handle walking back to the ship by myself Sergeant.”

“Okay, then I’m headed back up to the squad we left on the berm. Maybe I’ll be able to catch a few winks up there after I know they’re okay.

“Pardon my saying so ma’am but the colonel told me I was to take care of you and … Well, you don’t smell too good right now. I wouldn’t have said anything but all those bloodstains kinda draw in the animals. You can stop with the tough officer routine, too. You’re tired, sore and feel like you’re safe now that you’re back in camp. Well you ain’t safe. Keep on your toes.”

“Oh stop trying to ‘mother hen’ me, Sarge. I’ll see you later.” Brittany said as she shouldered her rifle and headed towards the ship. She took a step and then turned back, “Oh, and one more thing. Thank you for everything, Steve. You’re the reason we all made it back.”

The sergeant stood there for a second and watched her leave. The flash of a smile crossed his face as he started back towards the berm.
Kid’s gonna make a good officer. She knows when to push it, knows when to throw a softball.

Martel hadn’t gone more than fifty yards into the woods when he felt a gossamer web brush across his face and neck. Staggering back, he flailed his arms wiping it from his face. Frantically, he checked his shoulders and hat as a shiver went down his spine.
Damn spiders. I walked right into that web and damn but don’t they build big ones around here. Usually their nets are gone this late in the morning. Hate the damn things.

He froze as his eye caught movement ahead. Eight small dinosaurs, each a bit taller than the sergeant, charged through the low palm scrub.
Shit, first time I’ve ever been grateful for running into a web. They’d of run right over me.

Martel waited a few moments. At first, there was nothing and then ... something was moving through the woods behind the fleeing dinosaurs. It wasn’t close but it was big and it sounded like it was on this side of the barrier.

What happened to the AutoSentinels and why haven’t the alarms gone off?
The sergeant swung the Pulsar off his shoulder and began cautiously moving towards the sound.

Martel had taken fewer than a dozen careful steps when he noticed there were small animals moving through the thick surrounding brush, more than he usually saw when moving through the woods and he began to wonder about the sanity of his action. After all, these animals were running as fast as they could in one direction and that was away from, not towards the sounds.

Dense brush opened into a small glade of high palms providing very little cover. Twenty paces into the clearing, a pack of hunters noisily broke through the foliage on the opposite side heading right for him. He raised his rifle and fired.

His first shot travelled true to hit the nearest. It collapsed, tumbling head first into the path of a second running close behind it. The second troodon’s feet tangled and it went down rolling. The remaining four easily avoided the fallen pair and were on the sergeant in an instant. One sideswiped Martel and spun him around sending a flash of pain up his leg as he fell.

Through it all, he managed to hold onto his Pulsar, twisting it forward even as he fell to the ground. Frantically, he looked about. They were gone. All, that is, except for two. The troodon that had tripped was still untangling itself from its dead comrade. Flopping around almost comically in its haste, it pushed off the dead dinosaur, got up and snarled a warning at him as it ran off, quickly disappearing into the heavy brush.

Martel stood, gingerly testing his leg. It had been a tough day yesterday and today wasn’t starting out very well. His leg was sore, almost as sore as his chest but nothing seemed to be broken,
I haven’t been this sore since boot camp.

A low, almost bone shaking warble shook the trees. He saw the tops of some palms abruptly pushed to the side on the opposite side of the clearing.
Shit, guess those guys weren’t the cause of all the ruckus,
He thought as he started limping across the clearing, gingerly avoiding a few small passing dinosaurs.

The world around him shook with the long, bone-chilling cry of the hunting tyrannosaur. The call climbed the octaves and then descended down into the low, rumbling sound characteristic of their breed. A black and gold mountain of feathers over muscle rose above the trees on the opposite end of the glade. He knew they could outrun him easily even if he didn’t have a bum leg. Worst of all, it was heading his way and that meant it was moving towards the Argos.

Martel scanned the area. To his left was some heavy brush growing next to an outcrop of large boulders. He dove off to the side and crawled into the island of rock and palm scrub.
Better than nothing but not by much,
Martel thought frantically,
How the hell did that thing get in here anyway?
The sergeant had barely settled into position when the monster pushed into the clearing. He drew a quick bead on its head, realizing he couldn’t let it pass. Most of the camp would just be waking up, they would be in the new outdoor cafeteria enjoying breakfast. There would be a bloodbath. He waited, focusing on the area of the skull behind its eye, held his breath and then left half of it out.

The shot came as a surprise as it should when you’ve properly pulled the trigger. The predator’s head shifted oddly to the side and it stopped. It staggered for a moment; the side of its head was no longer clearly visible but it was now looking directly at him. Almost without conscious thought, Martel placed two more rounds between its eyes. It dropped to the ground, twisting as it fell. The immense head hit the ground right in front of the boulders. Martel froze. He couldn’t see from inside his cover but he wasn’t about to get up. He could still hear the monster breathing, it convulsed once and the sound stopped, then started again. Out of nowhere, a huge foot stomped onto the patch of ground before him and the world darkened under a second predator’s shadow.

The Pulsar Rifle is a powerful weapon but its killing power depends more on the kinetic energy of the projectile than mass. Shooting the huge tyrannosaur was like going after a bull elephant with a deer rifle. The dinosaur’s skull was strong. None of the rounds he fired had exited the skull but had instead ricocheted around inside of the bone casing like balls on a pool table.

The ground shook with new footsteps behind him on the other side of his little island of rocks. Afraid to move, Martel tried to turn but couldn’t see the beast,
Shit, there’s at least two more of the beasties, maybe more. Ah Martel, you’ve gone and really put your foot into it this time.

A massive, tooth-filled head lowered down into his view and began nudging the fallen tyrannosaur. He could hear massive lungs drawing each breath. The tyrannosaur suddenly stopped and lifted its head. The monster snorted, blowing the air and scent out of its nostrils and then again lowered it to the dying tyrannosaur. Martel froze. The thing smelled him but it didn’t know what to make of the new odor.

Suddenly he remembered, Aw that caps it all. I’m still covered in the mix of blood from Ensign Petrika and the troodons.

Boulders behind him rumbled and shifted sending bone-crushing visions flashing through his mind. A snarf and then a rolling growl, then a gigantic foot set down on the boulder beside him and pulled it away.

Never in his life had Martel crawled, spun and run as fast as he did at that moment. He blindly fired as he burst out from under the bush, heading for the nearest, tightest group of trees in front of him. The two predators behind him didn’t roar or scream but he could hear them calling to one another. The ground shook as they followed.

There was no contest. He’d seen them attacking the hadrosaur herd and the terror was still fresh in his mind as he crossed the edge of the clearing. He turned to the side as soon as he got into the thick trees. He had to change direction, weave as much as possible. Keep them from using the rapid, open step they’d shown down in the fields. The sound of thrashing bushes and ripping filled the woods as the thirty-foot long dinosaurs exited the clearing and slid into an abrupt turn as they changed direction, still following his trail in the dense growth with their excited calls rising in pitch.

Something crashed through the woods ahead of him ripping full-grown trees like a freight train run off its tracks. Instinctively, he turned and heard another off to his other side. They were driving him, turning his flight back towards the waiting tyrannosaur. He turned again and his foot slid in a hole, nearly breaking his leg. Everything went black for a second. The marine frantically looked around. The hole he had tripped across was big, maybe wide enough for him to get into and he didn’t stop to think it over.

He twisted and scrambled into it, pushing across the rough stone and root-covered ground of the dark tunnel on his belly. Martel felt the burrow drop a yard or so and then it widened a bit and rose. He stopped. He’d seen this before; the rise was a defense barrier -- whatever made the tunnel would be waiting up ahead.

The tunnel was tight; it was all he could do to push inward. Stones and dirt cascaded onto his face and into his open mouth. He couldn’t reach his sidearm but there was just enough room to push his elbow down and bring his hand over the pocket of his blouse. It was still there,
Thank God for little favors. Now please, let it still work.

The sergeant had to rip the pocket to free his LED light. Sharp rocks ripped the skin on the back of his hand as he brought it forward. He closed one eye to save its low-light sensitivity before turning on the LED.

A startled squawk passed through the muted confines of the tunnel. He caught a glimpse of white, glistening teeth as it jumped, hitting its head against the top of the tunnel and throwing stones and dirt down the passage to pelt the marine.

When he looked again, nothing was there. Martel paused to get his breath and it was then he noticed heavy breathing behind him. They had found his hide. He could feel the air passing with every breath the tyrannosaur took. The monster held the scent and then let go with a snort that carried the rotting smell of blood and flesh on a wet blast.

The heavy breathing stopped and a small shaft of light lit the tunnel. Martel heard a dull thud and the ground shook as the tyrannosaurs stomped the entrance to the burrow. The shaft of light disappeared and a loud scraping began. Loose dirt and stone tumbled inward. The sergeant’s heart skipped a beat -- he was on the wrong end of a gigantic backhoe. It didn’t take an engineer to know that the ground around him was soft and easy to dig. The monsters would soon be pulling him out into the bright light of day like an angler digging for earthworms.

*~~*~~*~~*

“Move it Saren.
You will move your ass and, while your attention is back there, cut yer gawking and keep one eye on it or one of these big dinos’ gonna bite it off. Estes, grab that belt of ammo blocks.” Corporal Ryan Tyree pushed his twelve-man squad onto the trail that followed the base of the berm. “You Jarheads remember, eyes and ears open. There may be friendlies up ahead as well as dinos so identify your target. We know two of the AutoSentinels are down. We’re gonna plug the hole in the fence and hold it long enough for support to get up to us.