Dinosaur World Omnibus Page 18

  “But you’ve never been to Europa?” she presses.

  I think about how to answer that. I’ve been to Europa several times actually. I completed my desert training there for one thing. Second time I went there I was tracking down a particularly nasty serial killer who decided to hide out near the equator. That ended well (!). I’ve been back a couple of times since then, mainly to hit the nightclubs during hen nights, but I don’t like to go too far from home and leave my son with my folks too often. He doesn’t see enough of me as it is, what with my job and all.

  “No,” I say, deciding this is a debate I really can’t be bothered with, “I’ve never been to Europa.”

  Harper snorts, uncertain whether the argument is over and if it is just who won. Then she goes back to rubbing her hands in silence.

  I don’t say anything either, just stare into the flames and wonder when I’m going to get back to see my son. The funny thing about all this is that Davey loves dinosaurs. In fact he’s always wanted to come to Ceres, which of course I’ve told him he can never do, what with it being off-limits and all. Assuming this mission doesn’t get stamped classified he’s going to be so jealous when he finds out mummy’s been here. I wonder what I’ll tell him. I saw a flying reptile, I’ll say. The ones that eat insects and fish. I won’t tell him it tried to tear me apart and I was forced to blow its brains across a field. I won’t tell him how god-damned terrified I was when it looked like it was going to rend the flesh from my bones. I won’t tell him how hard my heart was thumping when I was in my shuttle, looking at the damage and realising that only a short while earlier there were horrific predators standing on the very same spot, urinating all over my food.

  I’ll tell him the good things, the things he wants to hear. I can describe the minmi: I can do that much at least. I don’t know whether I’m going to have to shoot any more lizards before getting out of this place, but I’d be very surprised if I didn’t. Davey wouldn’t like me to tell him I came all this way just to shoot the things he loves so much. Mummy verses the dinosaurs ... it’s a contest I think I’ve been facing his whole life.

  “Scraggs.”

  I blink, my gaze shifting upward from the blaze. “What?”

  “My cat,” Harper says a little dryly. “Look, I realise what you were trying to do. Talk to me about my home, just making general chitchat. And I was short about it and I’m sorry. So, if you want small-talk so we can bond or something, I have a cat named Scraggs.”

  I realise I must have looked really miserable staring into that fire. “Strange name for a cat,” I say.

  “Not if you knew him. You have any pets?”

  “No. Davey’s allergic to cats, and to be fair I’m never home long enough to look after one.”

  “Davey?”

  “David. My son.”

  “You have a son?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I frown. “Why are you sorry?”

  She looks away quickly, which is odd seeing as though it’s telling me she doesn’t want to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry for dragging you down here,” she says quickly. “With all these dinosaurs you might not make it back.”

  “I’ve been in worse situations than this, you know.”

  “Yeah, but dinosaurs?”

  “I’ve always found people are a lot worse than animals. People are vindictive, manipulative, bear grudges and can plan ahead. Animals are just animals. If one attacks you and you get away it doesn’t trail you but goes after different prey.”

  “I guess.”

  She’s an odd girl, and I can’t quite figure out whether she’s trying to be nice or just trying to freak me out. Either way, I’ve decided I’m getting too tired to stay up all night watching her. If she’s stupid enough to go running off into the forest while I’m asleep then she fully deserves whatever happens to her. I’m not leaving Davey all alone just because I’m not getting enough sleep.

  “Goodnight, Professor,” I say, lying on the dusty ground and trying to get comfortable despite the cold.

  “Goodnight, Corporal,” I hear her mumble and watch through the small flames as she does the same. She’s a strange girl all right, but come tomorrow I’ll be able to get a signal out and I’ll be rid of her for good. Even if I can’t get the radio fixed the lieutenant will come get me tomorrow. Either way this is the only night we’ll be spending here on Ceres.

  A distant howl cuts through the night air and I lie to myself that it was just a wolf. Yes, leaving Ceres behind forever is going to be the best thing I’ve done in a long time.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A screech, a scream, my eyes snapping open from darkness. Still darkness. Cold, wet, another scream. Movement, flashes, my head exploding, my knees scuffing, my shoulder bleeding on the floor.

  And suddenly I’m properly awake. Everything comes back to me in moments. The mild form of cave I found for us to spend the night in, the crackling fire, the thought of leaving this Godforsaken world. I must have jumped up, cracked my head: it feels like it’s on fire. My body’s aching where I’ve fallen, but it’s nothing serious. Just scrapes through the material. The armour’s holding: it’s what it was built for after all. I’m wet; the rain’s not too hard but it’s blowing into the recess and making the ground slippery.

  A scream tears through the air once more and I’m back on my feet in an instant, more aware than ever of where I am. The scene before me freezes my heart and widens my eyes to such a degree I don’t think I’ll ever be able to close my lids again. Professor Harper is standing a few metres before me, frantically waving a floundering burning brand in both hands, the rain attacking it like a mass of piranhas intent on stripping the faggot of its every ounce of flame. Before her looms the huge and hideous head of the largest creature I’ve ever seen. A theropod far in excess of anything which might have torn through my shuttle. All I can see of it is its snout, and the head itself when it rears to bellow a roar into the storm. Its head is the length of a human being, and over half of that is jaw. Two cold piercing eyes stare out hatefully at the professor while it attempts to gnash at her with teeth well over half a foot in length.

  I know what the creature is, for the records show this to be the primary large theropod upon Ceres. I had prayed not to run into one of these things, prayed to a God in which I don’t believe and several more besides. It seems for my lack of true faith an entire pantheon of deities has seen fit to drag one of these things from Hell and send it straight to my door.

  “Get back!” I shout at Harper. “You can’t fend that thing off for long!”

  Harper shouts something over her shoulder, but it’s devoured by the storm. Even in that brief instant I could see the panic bleeding across her face and know I have to do something. The daspletosaurus was not the largest of carnivores by far, but it’s nine metres of pure strength and muscle, with teeth longer than even its more famous descendent the tyrannosaurus rex. The tyrannosaurids were among the largest predators, and anything larger doesn’t even bear thinking about. A tyrannosaurid is more than enough to kill a dozen human beings; there’s no reason to be thankful it isn’t one of the largest.

  “Corporal!”

  I shake my head, realising I’ve fallen into shock and have dropped back into what a soldier does best in such circumstances: assessing the situation. But no amount of research is going to get us out of this. From everything I learned during my studies of this creature, if the daspletosaurus has you in its sights you’re already dead.

  Backed into this foolish choice of cave, unable to flee farther than the creature’s jaws can reach, I think I may have just succeeded in killing us both.

  For the first time since landing on this world I actually feel sorry for Professor Harper. Without my interference she may well have avoided this encounter altogether.

  Suddenly grateful I decided to sleep in my clothes, I snatch my pistols from their holsters and open fire indiscriminately. The sounds of the explosions are swallowed by the fury of
the storm, although I see several of their impacts as blood ruptures from the dinosaur’s face. It rears back, roaring hatefully at us both, its colossal breath knocking me back and spoiling my aim. In those few instants of recovery I can see the monster eye to eye, and I realise just how angry I’ve made it. The wounds my bullets have torn into its jaw are being washed clean by the torrential rain, and I understand with horror that not all of my shots even connected; and of those which did several had been turned by the sheer defensive power of its armour-like skin. Enough of my shots got through to hurt the thing, although nowhere near enough to cause it any real problems.

  I estimate I let off six or seven shots from each gun.

  Upwards of a dozen bullets did nothing but annoy the thing.

  The great head comes for us once more and this time I know it’s not going to be put off by Harper waving her little flaming faggot before its face. I dive, colliding with her, encircling her waist with my arms as the two of us tumble across the rocks. The daspletosaurus misses us by inches, and as I stumble to my feet in the rain, dragging Harper along with me, I duck as the massive head swings our way once more.

  But the carnivore wasn’t trying to kill us that time, and my heart leaps with no uncertain joy to see that we’ve been granted a momentary reprieve. In attempting to snag us the daspletosaurus has managed to bite down upon the pack containing what’s left of the radio. On opening its maw has the strap of the pack caught between two of its teeth and it’s swinging its great head about in an attempt to dislodge the heavy anchor, weighing down one side of its face.

  It’s a distraction which will only last a few moments longer, and it means losing the radio entirely, but the alternative is staying to fight that thing bare-handed. I grab hold of Harper once more and run, throwing her before me and forcing her to climb. Our only chance is to get high enough, out of the reach of the monster. At first she doesn’t react, but I don’t care for her shock: it’s only going to get us both killed. I press my face close to hers and scream down her ear, fighting the raging storm, and finally she begins to move. Her progress is slow, one hand finding a hold, the other hand coming up, followed by one foot. I turn to see the dinosaur is swinging its head madly, and I know Harper’s moving too slowly.

  I watch as the pack slams into the cliff side, pieces of the useless radio showering down. The latch must have shattered, because the main bulk of the radio transmitter follows, tumbling away into dark nothingness. I don’t know whether it’s the sudden jarring of the movement, or whether the material’s finally worn through, but the strap snaps in that instant and falls away.

  With a last shake of its head, as though to regain its bearings, the daspletosaurus growls deep within its throat and trains cruel, tiny, narrowed eyes upon my position.

  Even should I begin my ascent right now I no longer have time to make it off this ledge alive.

  That’s hardly going to stop me trying my damnedest.

  I stand still, watching the great beast, fully aware that every moment we remain impassive is another Harper has to scrabble to freedom. I can hear her ascending: the frantic grunts, the scrape of rock, the laboured breathing. A flurry of dust falls upon my shoulder, but I do not turn my head from the daspletosaurus. We simply stand there staring at one another, each of us knowing I’m not getting out of this.

  And then it lunges, and raising my pistols I charge. My guns blaze in the rain, pinpricks of light in the maddening storm. My aim is more accurate this time, although even as I watch the tiny explosions of blood upon the thing’s snout I can see all I’m doing is making the thing mad. The dinosaur ignores every shot, concentrating on the attack, and as it reaches me does it snap its head horizontally, seeming to dislodge its mandible in the manner of a dog, that it shall gain more force when those awesome jaws lock upon me. I leap from the ledge, guns hammering into its face, dropping from my precarious position, all but passing through its open jaws, to tumble to the ground several metres below.

  I land upon my feet, bending to fall into a roll that I might survive the impact with no bones broken. A massive foot slams down almost atop me, and my eyes widen at how thickly-muscled is the attached leg, how the claw of even one toe could easily tear straight through me with one mild slash.

  The daspletosaurus rounds upon me, enraged now, Harper entirely forgotten: I can’t even see her any more through the dark storm. The dinosaur shifts its feet, angling itself to a position whereby it might see me better, and I think about my chances of outrunning this monster. With legs thicker than my entire body, there’s no chance I’d survive such folly.

  Discarding my pistols, I don’t even watch as they squelch in the mud as I whip the rifle from my shoulder. If I survive this I’m going to need my pistols to get off this world, but right now speed is the only thing that’s going to keep me alive, and having the rifle in my grip affords me a slight sense of comfort. Or at least less of a sense of panic.

  I fire as soon as I sight the creature, although with such a bulk it’s something I could hardly miss. I watch as larger explosions of blood erupt across the beast’s underside, and it rears its head to roar in anger at my temerity.

  Snapping down with its jaws, it misses me only because I stumble in the rain-slick mud in my attempt to evade such monstrous death. My face slams into the mud and I actually feel the dinosaur’s chin brush across my back. Spinning to face the thing, lying in the mud with my rifle raised, I can only watch in horror as the thing raises its head to the heavens once more, screaming in victory this time. We both know I can run no further.

  And then the night erupts with light, the entire area being suddenly lit with a yellow-white beam brighter than the day’s sun. Wincing, I raise a hand to shield my eyes as I stare in shock at the thing hovering ten metres above the ground, just slightly higher than the dinosaur itself although nowhere near out of its reach. The wind hits me at that moment, more intense than the storm, churning rain into my face like tiny stabbing knives. Through the bright glare I can see make out some of the details of the hovering thing. It’s around four metres long and two tall, with a rotor blade projecting from its roof. There are no walls upon any of its four sides, merely a skeletal structure of metal holding the thing together and minimising weight. I can see the casing at the rear which marks the engine, and the basic landing gear on the underside resembling thick skis. There’s a woman, I think, sitting at the pilot’s controls, and a large man in the rear trying to keep his footing. Greater details are a little difficult to tell through the storm and the light being directed at me from the contraption.

  The daspletosaurus turns towards the machine, bellowing in rage and snapping its mighty maw threateningly. It won’t chance breaking its teeth on an unknown quantity, but having a three tonne dinosaur snapping its jaws at you would put the fear of God into anyone. The copter backs off a pace and the dinosaur presses forward, lowering that powerful tail that it might gain extra height with its neck. A giant foot crashes down close to me, but by this point, with the rain pounding down upon me, I’m all but oblivious. I never thought I would see the day when a giant theropod was fending off a helicopter, light blazing into its face.

  The daspletosaurus shakes its head, slamming its skull into the side of the copter, which wavers uncertainly. I hear the pilot shouting, but the dinosaur strikes again, and this time there is a terrible shattering of glass and the light dies. The daspletosaurus roars in triumph and presses forward, its tail shuffling along the ground as it attempts to gain even greater height. I’m vaguely aware of the tail slapping the mud directly to my left and something in my brain shrieks at me to get up.

  I try, slipping in the mud once more, my weapons entirely forgotten now: even my rifle’s left my hand somewhere. My legs won’t respond, won’t allow me to stand, and nor can I tear my eyes from the fight. I can see the large man in the rear of the copter trying to keep steady as he holds something, although I can’t for the life of me see what it is exactly.

  And then something slips
beneath my armpit and I’m dragged to my feet, my arm thrown over someone else’s shoulder. I’m aware someone’s shouting at me, but it’s not just the storm which is drowning out the words. I can’t hear anything, my mind seems to have frozen, and a small part of my brain, deeply buried but highly trained, is telling me this is shock. This is my mind telling me none of this can possibly be real so therefore it isn’t.

  And quickly, silently, I feel myself dragged from the scene, but my eyes never leave the dinosaur.

  The copter has spun about by this point and, maintaining the same distance from the ground, it’s moving off farther down the valley. The daspletosaurus gives chase, and my heart catches in my throat. There were apparently scientists years ago who theorised that the large carnivores were too heavy to run, that they must have all been scavengers. As my eyes track the rhythmic pounding of the immense legs of the daspletosaurus I find I can attest to their speed in equal measure as I can to their fearlessness. The copter suddenly increases in speed to compensate as its pilot realises she’s also underestimated the hunter. The only difference is that a palaeontologist making a mistake with dinosaur habits never cost anyone their life.

  I feel the reassuring arm leave me as I sag against a rock, watching the monster disappear into the darkness of the storm, still chasing the demon bird which dared to defile its realm.

  The woman beside me is laughing, relishing the storm, raising her arms to allow the rain to soak her. I still can’t hear what she’s saying, but it doesn’t matter. I can feel my brain shutting down, but I know I’m safe. The professor and I are rescued at last.

  The lieutenant has come to save us both.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I open my eyes to daylight; it’s a welcome sight indeed. And the silence: the silence is almost worth having gone through that nightmare. After everything I’ve seen in my career I shouldn’t have been spooked by what I experienced last night, but I challenge anyone to come face to face with a daspletosaurus and still have control of their urinary tract.