Authors: Warren Dalzell
The animal sloshed along the bank, oblivious to the gawking humans hidden nearby. Making its way to a patch of reeds in the shallows of the pool, it lowered its head and plowed its stubby tusks through the muck, raking up another batch of water plants. Spencer looked on in fascination. "I'm shuah that's what it is, a dicynodont," he affirmed. "It’s exactly like the reconstructions scientists have come up wit' from fossils." He chuckled, "Looks like a cross between a turtle and Homah Simpson."
The beast turned and plodded downstream. Its funny beak, short hind legs, and thick, stubby tail did indeed give it the appearance of a turtle without a shell, and Jocelyn and Jack had to admit that it bore strong resemblance to the well-known cartoon character.
They continued to stare at the odd-looking animal, all of them contemplating Spencer's statement that it was a living fossil. After a moment, Jocelyn frowned in disgust. "Eeeww, do you smell that? Dinosaur or not, our friend, Homer, stinks. Maybe he farted or something—smells like road kill.”
The two boys now smelled it too. Jack wrinkled his nose and gagged, “Holy crap, you’re right, he smells worse than my gym locker.” Sniffing the air again, he paused contemplatively, “But, what little wind there is is blowing the other way. I don’t see how…”
The sound of cracking branches and rustling of leaves came from behind them. Instinctively, all three ducked and hid from what was approaching. Although they'd been in this strange valley for no more than a few hours, the students had now seen enough that nothing would surprise them. Whatever was coming was big, and all knew there was no guarantee the new arrival would be as benign as Homer.
The true source of the foul scent gradually emerged from the foliage. The head appeared first, followed by a long, thick, scaly neck. To the trembling humans cowering just a few feet away, the new creature's dietary needs were obvious. This one was a carnivore.
Its evil-looking, slanted eyes darted back and forth in search of prey. The students ducked down further, as low as they could, trying to blend into the sand, fervently praying that the small pile of rocks around them was enough to render them invisible. Spencer was closest to this new, ominous threat, and had a terrific, albeit dangerous, view of the animal as it approached. Taller than a man and much heavier, it had an elongated skull full of razor-sharp teeth. Its tongue flicked around, sampling the air for scent as it slunk from the stand of ‘bamboo,’ pausing every few seconds to process data. It was hunting. Spencer’s heart was beating so hard, he was certain the creature would find him.
“Spencer, what’s it doing?” Jocelyn whispered urgently. “Is it still there?”
“Shhh…”
There would be no escape if the predator found them. The only clear way out of the rock pile was the open stretch of bank between them and the dicynodont. Beyond that lay open water and the prospect of more untold dangers…not that they’d make it that far if they were foolish enough to try and make a run for it.
The animal had now fully emerged from the foliage and Spencer had a ringside view from less than twenty feet away. Although its forelegs were only about half the length of its powerful hindquarters, it seemed to be comfortable walking on all four limbs. Spencer’s first thought was that it was a strange hybrid crocodile. The head seemed crocodilian but the legs were much too long. This animal walked upright, like a dog or a cat.
It was now right beside him. If Spencer were bold, or foolish, enough, he could have reached out and touched it. He held his breath as the crouching beast stealthily crept along the other side of the rock behind which he was hiding. It was heading for the river bank. Large scale-like plates lay along its spine, from the crest of its oversized head to the tip of the tail. Perhaps twelve feet long, it conveyed the impression of power, grace and speed. This was a killing machine.
Once the animal had passed them and they realized they hadn't been seen, the students' heads bobbed up and down in the manner of prairie dogs. Despite the obvious danger, the desire to observe this awesome creature was impossible for them to resist.
The head was primarily what captivated them. The skull was narrow but massive. Jocelyn thought it looked strangely familiar—like the gators she'd seen in South Texas and Louisiana. Its cheeks, where the heavy jaw muscles attached, were thick, indicative of the crushing strength of its bite. The eyes were located under a boney ridge that ran along the top of the head, and, at the moment, they were fixated on the activity going on in the shallows of the pool.
Without warning the animal bolted. It lowered its head and charged forward with amazing speed. Kicking sand in Spencer’s face on the way by, it headed straight for the dicynodont.
Jocelyn’s ‘hippo’ let out a cry of alarm and began a lumbering retreat towards the apparent safety of the water. But it was much too slow. The predator caught it right at the water’s edge. Burying its teeth into the dicynodont’s neck it raked its foreclaws across its victim’s back while trying to wrest it back onto dry land. The heavier prey animal’s momentum carried it deeper into the pool, but the aggressor hung on, its hind legs scratching for purchase in the soft river silt, trying to haul both of them away from deep water. A guttural wail resonated from the throat of the dicynodont. The pitiful sound was like the braying of a donkey except deeper and more pleading. Instinct and adrenalin drove it into frenzied thrashing in desperate attempt to free itself from its mortal predicament.
“Holy crap, Holy crap!” Jocelyn cried as the vicious attack continued. “I wish we could do something to help poor Homer.”
Jack recognized opportunity in the epic struggle. They had to find a better place of refuge—and fast. The fearsome, malodorous predator would make short work of them if it were to suddenly disengage from its present struggle. “I’ll tell you what we can do,” he said, “Run!” He grabbed both Spencer and Jocelyn by their arms and pulled them away from the rocks, pointing them inland, away from the water. “I think we’ll be safe if we can get to those pines over there.”
Just as he spoke, the dicynodont threw its weight into its attacker, catapulting them both into deeper water. Both animals submerged, and for a moment the water settled until the carnivore exploded back to the surface and began thrashing its way towards shore. Swimming, apparently, wasn’t its strong suit. It had been forced to release its dinner and was making exasperated hissing noises.
Spencer thought it sounded pissed. He’d been mesmerized by the life-and-death struggle taking place before him and had fallen behind. Jack and Jocelyn were almost through the tangle of ‘bamboo’ and well on their way to safety when Jack realized Spencer wasn’t with them. His eyes grew as big as saucers when the frustrated predator drew a bead on his young companion and began to charge.
“Run!” Jack shouted, “Spencer, Run!”
Spencer didn’t need to look behind him. The urgency in Jack’s voice told him all he needed to know. He was in the bamboo thicket, picking his way through, when he heard Jack’s plea. With an alacrity that rivaled an Olympic hurdler, he began to climb, duck and weave his way through the twisted forest. But it wasn’t enough. The animal was gaining. Because of its size, the ‘bamboo’ thicket provided little resistance. Spencer wasn’t making enough progress. Jack began waving and yelling in a futile attempt to divert the animal’s attention, but it was like trying to distract a laser-guided missile that had locked onto its target. Spencer’s movement was all the beast could see.
There was nothing else Jack could do. He turned to Jocelyn, who was safely climbing through the branches of a large pine, and began to run towards her, to save himself. “Don’t look,” he yelled at her. She turned and saw a look of pure agony in his countenance. “For God’s sake, Jocelyn, don’t watch him die.” At the very least he felt he might be able to spare her the trauma, the horror, of watching their young friend being torn apart by a savage beast. He reached the tree and began climbing with a heavy heart, reciting at the same time a short Polish prayer he’d learned as a child, and hoping fervently that Spencer wouldn’t suffer. If the boy screamed, Jack knew he would forever be haunted by the sound. This wasn’t the way an archeological dig was supposed to be. For heaven’s sake, a summer spent learning about ancient Norse settlements well above the arctic circle shouldn’t involve seeing someone die in the jaws of a monster in the midst of a steaming jungle.
“Go, Spencer, that’s it. You can make it. Run.” Jocelyn’s yells of encouragement made Jack turn and look. It was as though his prayer had been answered. As it was leaving the ‘bamboo’ grove, the attacker had tripped and fallen. Apparently it had been so intent on its kill, finding itself only yards from an easy meal, it had failed to notice a heavy fallen log in its path.
It seemed that Spencer now had a fighting chance. Sprinting through a field of ferns he began to pull away.
However, his good fortune lasted but a moment. His pursuer rallied. Quickly rolling upright, the crocodilian lunged forward with amazing speed, propelling itself on all fours at an alarming rate. When it was mere yards away from its victim, it rose up onto its hind legs and prepared to strike. Jocelyn let out a wail of despair and Jack averted his eyes. The young man from Brooklyn, New York was doomed. The beast was going to grab him long before Spencer would make it to the safety of the tree.
X.
Marcie and Debbie watched the Sun through the small opening at the entrance to their shelter. A last brilliant arc seemed to hesitate before darting behind the towering mountain above them. The shadowless landscape of rock lay in the muted twilight of another approaching bitter, cold night. Both women felt a twinge of hopelessness at the thought of another day having passed in this inhospitable no-man’s land. Almost a full day had gone by without word from the other students, and no surprise rescue party had come to end their plight.
Marcie was hungry. In the excitement of preparing for her climbing lesson, she’d decided to put off eating her energy bars until later. Having subsequently given those to Jocelyn, Jack and Spencer for use during their journey, she was now carefully rationing what was left of the supplies Jack had brought up from the beach: three cans of pork and beans and two tins of smoked herring. Occasionally she would take a bite for herself, but Debbie desperately needed the nourishment and the patient’s needs superseded those of her caregiver. Debbie hadn’t thought to ask about the status of the food supply, and Marcie was glad. Even though lying to her mentor might be justifiable given the circumstances, Marcie would nonetheless feel uncomfortable doing it.
The reddish glow of arctic twilight had fully arrived now. It would remain dark like this, growing ever colder and damper until the Sun circled around the peaks to the north and made its reappearance in a few hours. As the chill began to set in, Marcie made an announcement:
“I’m going outside to try the communicator. Maybe we can get satellite lock now that the Sun is behind the hills.”
She slid aside the rock that was tethered to one corner of the tent fly. High winds the day before had compelled her to secure the tarp more firmly to outcrops along the cliff face. She’d also scavenged several heavier, loose rocks from around their narrow shelf and piled them all around the base. Nearly all of her para-cord had been committed to securing the shelter, but when she’d finished, Marcie was impressed with her handiwork. “A hurricane couldn’t move this thing,” she’d thought with pride.
Moving to a locale far from the escarpment, she fumbled with the buttons on the unit. Her fingers were numb with cold. It would have been nice to activate one of her last two chemical hand warmers, but decided against it. She considered those to be sacred, only to be employed once the Sun had been down for at least an hour. Once that happened, though, she would place the tiny package between herself and Debbie, deep within the folds of their sleeping bag, and the two of them would nurse every calorie that emanated from it for the four hours or so that it lasted. By then the Sun’s reappearance would keep them from freezing for another tortuous day.
The screen glowed green, its hourglass icon telling her to wait. “Searching for satellites” was displayed in bold letters at the top. “Come on, baby, come on,” Marcie urged. She pulled the collar of her wind breaker against her neck with her free hand. The wind was beginning to gust now as it did every evening at this time, cold air spilling down from the high peaks as the Sun skirted the horizon on the other side.
Suddenly the screen began to dim. At first Marcie thought the problem lay with her eyes. The cold wind caused them to tear up when it came howling through like this. But Marcie’s eyes were fine. She stared in disbelief as the display became dimmer and dimmer, finally fading to black.
“Uhgggh…son of a bitch!” she groaned through clenched teeth. Anger flooded through her at this new setback, a cruel betrayal by a stupid piece of equipment. “What a piece of shit.” She nearly threw the thing against the rocks, smashing it to bits in a moment of exasperation. But she held back. The apparatus didn’t belong to her. As her temper subsided, Marcie’s ire was replaced with something worse—fear. The satellite communicator was the only link to the people at the dig site, and it was now useless.
Circumstances were suddenly far worse. Concern for their absence wouldn’t manifest into a search effort for at least two more days. Jack, Spencer and Jocelyn had effectively disappeared; they could be lost or in terrible trouble for all Marcie knew. The wind picked up again sending a chill straight through her body and into her soul. Debbie’s condition was worsening bit by bit, they were almost out of food, and the chemical heat packs that made the nights bearable were nearly gone. As far as Marcie Van Wormer knew, she might soon be the sole survivor of their ill-fated trip to explore the island. A tear streaked her cheek as she slowly walked back to the makeshift shelter, and its origin had nothing to do with the wind.
* * *
Spencer could feel hot, fetid breath on the back of his neck. This was it. His life was at an end. It was strange, he thought, that in the last few seconds of his existence he would experience a clarity of mind he'd never before encountered. Images of his mom and dad flashed by, and scenes from his neighborhood came to mind: Charlie standing beneath the umbrella of his hot dog stand, old Lady Perrault holding a chicken wing in her boney fingers.... But the last fleeting snapshot to enter his mind's eye was one of Marcie. It was lunchtime, right after they'd dined on fried seal meat prepared by Ittuk, and she was beaming at the thought of going on an expedition to explore the coast of the island.
Spencer suddenly realized he would never see his folks, his friends or Marcie again. That thought didn't sit well with him—not one bit. A surge of resolve shot through him. He decided then and there that no ugly, two-bit, oversized swamp rat with a severe case of halitosis and a brain the size of a walnut, was going to turn him into its next meal. That was NOT going to happen.
Knowing that he wouldn’t make it to safety in time, he came up with a last ditch plan. When he sensed that his nemesis was just about to pounce, Spencer juked to his left, then broke sharply right. It was a beautiful move, executed to perfection. If his basketball coach had been there as a witness, it would certainly have earned Spencer an immediate spot on the team.
Although fleet of foot, the large carnivore wasn’t as agile as its prey. The animal fell for the fake and took a hard left. Propelled onward by its own momentum, precious seconds elapsed before it realized what had happened and tried to change direction. Spencer headed for the tree. He began to climb as the attacker skidded to a halt and reversed course, once again accelerating towards him. This time, however, it was too late. Jack’s strong arms reached down to grab Spencer and pull him to safety as the fearsome jaws of the leaping crocodilian snapped shut mere inches from his foot.
Pale and trembling, Spencer collapsed against the trunk of the tree. He closed his eyes, and for several minutes stayed motionless as his breathing slowed and his heart rate returned to some semblance of normal. The predator began circling the tree, knowing that a meal was still just a short distance away. When Spencer had sufficiently recovered, he looked down and his eyes locked on to those of his aggressor. The looks they exchanged conveyed more than words. Cold, spiteful, malevolent thoughts seemed to radiate from the animal’s primitive brain. Extending both middle fingers, Spencer unleashed a stream of expletives sufficient to make a sailor blush. He then slumped once again against the tree and received a very spirited and relieved pat on the back from Jack.
“Nice going, Spence. I gotta tell you though, that guy down there doesn’t drive a cab. This isn’t New York.”
Spencer was too tired to laugh. For several more minutes no one spoke. Together they watched the huge beast pace beneath them until it finally gave up and trudged away. Jocelyn was the one to break the silence. “There is no way I’m leaving this tree with that…that ‘thing’ down there.” She relaxed and heaved a deep sigh. “What have we stumbled into here, guys? Admit it; this is like no other place on Earth. Are these things from outer space or did they just evolve in some freakishly isolated way?”
To her surprise, Spencer definitively answered both questions. “They’re not from outa space, ‘an they ‘dint evolve in a freakish way. The fact is they stopped evolving…period.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, “I mean they ‘dint evolve. That animal that chased me? It was an archosaur.”
“A what?”
“An archosaur. Probably hasn’t changed much, if at all, since the late Permian or early Triassic. That’s what I mean when I say these animals ‘dint evolve. This appears to be some sort of isolated, stagnant ecosystem.”
“I don’t know if I buy that, Spencer,” Jack said. “You mean to tell me that this is some sort of prehistoric place?”
Jocelyn thought for a moment and suddenly grew excited, “Gymnosperms!”
“Huh?”
“All of the plants we’ve seen; they’re all gymnosperms.”
Jack was amused, “Sounds a bit racy to me. Are you saying these plants have macho sperm that work out in the gym?” He adopted a fake German accent and did a body builder flex, “Ya, dey get all pumped up—for dey’re eggs.”
“Men,” Jocelyn chided, “why do guys always have to relate everything to sex?” Jack and Spencer laughed and shared a high-five. She groaned and continued, “Gymnosperm is Greek for ‘naked seed.’ There are plenty of gymnosperms in the modern world, pines for example, or cycads like those I identified earlier. But most modern plants are what are called ‘flowering plants;’ they produce seeds in ovaries.”
“So, what’s your point?” Jack asked.
She looked at each of them in turn, for emphasis. “Flowering plants didn’t enter into the fossil record until about 140 million years ago.”
“That fits wit' the animals we’ve seen,” concurred Spencer. “Near as I can tell they evolved through the late Permian to early-Triassic, ‘an then something weird happened. This island somehow isolated this whole environment,” he swept his hand to indicate everything around them, “’an it just stayed this way.”
“So how long are we talking about?” asked Jack. He was becoming more accepting of Spencer’s theory—at least it sounded good, and he couldn’t come up with anything more plausible.
“If I hadda guess, I’d say all this sorta froze in time about 250 million years ago.”
Long shadows and the orange glow of reflected light off clouds heralded the arrival of nightfall. Their friend ‘Malarkey,’ a name created by Jocelyn by combining the words ‘malevolent’ and ‘archosaur,’ had been gone for hours, no doubt engaged in a continuing hunt for sustenance.
Before it got too dark, Jack decided to make their campsite a bit more comfortable. They had no choice but to spend the night in the tree, and he didn’t want anyone falling out. Tentatively he descended to ground level and began gathering dead branches to pass up to the other two. At one point he risked a trip to the ‘bamboo’ grove to retrieve several stout logs to serve as flooring for the treehouse. Using lengths of para-cord supplied to them by the resourceful Marcie, they constructed a platform just large enough for all three to lie on. Per Jack’s instructions, each tied a four foot length of cord from his belt to a limb of the tree to guard against an inadvertent fall.
Jocelyn fidgeted in her seat. Jack’s platform was uneven and one particularly stubborn twig was poking her in the butt. “Spencer, how come you know all this stuff? What grade are you in anyway?”
“I’ll be a sophomore in Septembeh.”
“Well, I’m impressed. They must have pretty good schools in New Yoahk.” She drew out the last word in an exaggerated imitation of his Brooklyn accent.
Spencer smiled and acknowledged her effort by flipping her the bird. “Actually I ‘dint learn this in school; I read it on my own.”
“Ah, you were one of those kids who was interested in dinosaurs,” said Jack.
“Eh, yeah, I guess. But I ask ya, who wouldn’t be? They’re fascinatin’ animals. But I was more interested in where the dinosaurs came from. They ‘dint appear outta nowhere, right? They evolved. These ‘tings here are their ancestahs. We owe a lot to ‘em when you think about it. These guys survived the Permian-Triassic extinction. We wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”
“I thought it was an asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and explained. “That was the Cretaceous-Tertiary, or K-T, event of 65 million years ago. I’m talkin’ about what happened almost 250 million years ago. Since life on Earth began, scientists have noted at least five major extinction events from their study of the fossil record. Everyone is familiar with the last one, the one that you just mentioned, but by far the biggest was the Permian-Triassic event. It almost wiped out all life. More than 90% of species went extinct, and that included about 95% of marine life and 30% of insects. It’s really impressive that insect life was so significantly affected; no other extinction put that kinda hurt on bugs.”
“It must have been some asteroid to do that much damage,” Jocelyn said. She’d forgotten about the nuisance twig and was fascinated by the lecture, becoming ever more impressed with what this kid knew. He was a walking encyclopedia. “Do they know how big?”
“Nobody knows for sure. It might notta been an asteroid, or it might ‘a been a series of asteroids that hit over a period of a coupl’a million years. Another popular explanation is that volcanic activity stepped up ‘an put so much ash ‘an CO
2
in the air that it radically changed the climate.”