Dinosaur World Omnibus Read online

  The swamp was far more dangerous than people seemed to consider. Pot holes were of course able to suck a person down in an instant, and at the points where a river or other body of water flowed through there were created rapids. The monsters out in the swamp could take a person’s head off – and had done in the past – while they bent to tie their shoelaces. The biggest killer in the swamp by far, however, was the insects. Malaria was not a nice way to go, but out here it was a new world, which brought with it new diseases.

  Honeywood was just contemplating death by mosquito when she saw something move in the water ahead of her. It may have just been moss floating downstream, but there was a wake behind it which suggested there was more to it beneath the surface. Her hand moved slowly to her thigh and found her knife, her eyes never leaving the clump of floating moss. It was not moving towards her, however, and came to a piece of solid ground ten metres from her position. She watched as the lithe form slipped out of the marsh and marvelled at its simplicity.

  The creature was over a metre in length and was possessed of a long, lizard-like body. As with the gorgosaurus, the tail was long and tapering, although unlike the previous monster this creature walked upon four thin legs which did not seem anywhere near as powerful. The rear ones were longer, meaning the creature’s head was kept lower to the ground, and all its limbs ended in a splay of what appeared to be webbed claws. Its body shone with hard scales, while its head was bony and likely extremely thick.

  Slowly Honeywood drew her knife.

  “Simosuchus,” Aubin said, suddenly behind her. Honeywood had not heard the girl’s approach, and sensed she was shouldering her pack, trying to get it into a comfortable position.

  “What?” Honeywood whispered without taking her eyes from the beast.

  “Simosuchus,” Aubin replied, finding she had tangled her hair in the pack’s straps. “Prehistoric crocodile.”

  “That’s not a crocodile. The legs are too long.”

  “Lives on land too.”

  “So what was it doing in the water? Going for a swim?”

  “Probably.”

  Honeywood realised the girl was being serious and shot her a quick look to see she was not worried in the slightest. “The one thing I know about crocodiles,” Honeywood said, “is that they’re fast critters. Can outrun a jungle cat, and can certainly outrun four humans wandering through a swamp.”

  “Sure,” Aubin said. “But Simosuchus was a vegetarian.”

  Honeywood blinked, finally taking her eyes from the creature. “You’re trying to tell me that crocodile walks on four long legs, lives on land and doesn’t eat meat?”

  “Yeah. Amazing what you can learn in a book these days.”

  Honeywood blinked. She stared at the girl for some moments and then a broad smile broke her face. She had assumed Aubin to be weak and soft; she certainly looked and acted the type. She had also assumed that Aubin’s interest in books was a useless endeavour. But if Aubin was reading books which enabled her to survive on this stupid world perhaps it was Honeywood who was the weak one. The first victory in every war was won through intelligence, and on this world they were at war with nature itself.

  “I think I’m gonna enjoy having you around after all, Cassie,” Honeywood told her and picked up her own pack before shoving it onto the girl. “Now get moving. We got a lot of ground to cover.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was a screwed up world, but then it never should have existed anyway. Abe Garza looked heavenward and felt unnerved by all the tree coverage. He was used to seeing the great red eye glaring down at him from its orange and white cloud, and to be cut off from such a thing made him edgy. He should have taken it as a welcome respite, would have believed he would have in fact if asked yesterday; but the truth was he had grown used to seeing that great eye in the sky. It was the same with the whole world. When they had initially left Earth none of them had thought they would get used to these surroundings, but it was amazing how humans adapted to any given situation. It had not taken them long to master their confinement, be it within the prison or upon the world as a whole. Perhaps one day they would even leave, but Garza knew such dreams were foolish. Seward may have sat on the roof of his shack gazing at the stars longingly, but it was a pipe dream. And pipe dreams did nothing to further their lives.

  Garza had taken the lead for the moment, and hardly minded. Honeywood did not throw her weight around as he had expected her to, being a big-shot pit fighter as she was. He had volunteered in order to get to know her, and she was surprising him. He had never intended to get to know her personally of course; he just needed to grow to understand her moves, the way she acted and why. He did not care for her as a person, but if he intended to become a better pit fighter than she he would have to learn her tactics. She was after all indisputably the best they had, and if he wanted to be better he would have to take everything that she was and put his own spin on it. He did not like to admit that he was growing to like her, but that was only because Garza did not believe the best way to succeed in life was to make friends. Allies, yes, but allies denoted an ability to help one another for mutual benefit. Friends were people who helped one another for the sake of it, and Garza did nothing simply for the sake of it.

  “Damn it’s hot.”

  He glanced at the girl then, Cassie something or other. She was sweating like a pig and seemed to want everyone to know it. She had dressed oddly for the swamp, and her long hair was plastered across her face already. Her top was hardy but not suited for the swamp, and her sweat had all but stuck the thing to her body, revealing curves she likely wanted to keep hidden, otherwise she would have done the clever thing and discarded the top ages ago. Modesty was a stupid thing to have on this world, and Garza presently didn’t even wear a top at all. But then he was a man, she would have argued. When the girl fell down dead from dehydration and exhaustion he would be willing to bet she’d wish she hadn’t been so vain.

  Not that dead people could wish for anything, but that was all beside the point.

  The trail was easy to follow and Garza was beginning to wonder whether Seward intended for people to follow him, and if so who? Perhaps he did this every time he went hunting though. After all, he was their only decent chef and he knew if he went missing at least someone would come searching for him. He would therefore need to leave as blazing a trail as possible, and he had done so indeed. From scorched wood, flattened moss and carved arrows his trail was simple to follow.

  Perhaps too simple, Garza’s paranoid mind warned him without good reason.

  Garza thought then about the dinosaurs. It was a stupid notion, and no one back home even knew for certain whose dumb idea it was. There were theories, a dozen people had taken credit through history, but the truth was no one had a clue. Putting this world together from a collection of asteroids between the fourth and fifth planets of the star system was bad enough, but seeding it with prehistoric sense made absolutely no sense. That he was wandering through a swamp filled with long dead monsters was the most ludicrous thing he had ever contemplated. Of course, every schoolboy knew of this world and wanted to visit. But it was illegal to even come here, probably because A) the world was put together wrong and too unstable, B) was filled with monsters and C) had a penal colony taking up half the swamp. This was a world the government used to shove its undesirables, and Garza wondered not for the first time whether there were any other penal colonies across the face of the world.

  “What’s that?”

  The girl again, and this time she sounded positively exhausted. Garza had long since given up caring what she had to say, and pointedly ignored her. She said something else, sounded like she was about to pass out, and he realised too late her voice was frantic for a reason.

  Garza saw the thing explode from the swamp before he could do anything to react. It was a huge black form, scissoring wide and coming straight for him. He tried to drop, to dodge, to raise his arm, but his feet slipped from under him and he went tumbling
. Which was probably the only thing which saved his life. The huge bullet-shaped form slammed down upon his legs, and while the intense weight of the creature sent a surge of pain through his body at least the maw had failed to rip into him.

  The monster crocodile slid back into the water, and he had barely caught even a glimpse of it before it was entirely vanished once more.

  Honeywood was dragging him away from the water’s edge before he even registered what was going on, and he fought furiously not to descend into shock. Stiggs had vanished, probably clambered up a tree or something, while the girl Cassie was dancing up and down screaming. She was afraid, he knew – terrified – and was doing his head in with her noise. Then he saw the dark shape make a snatch for her from the brackish water and he realised what she was actually doing was drawing the beast’s attention so Honeywood could get him out of its reach.

  He was touched by her kindness, and his estimation of her went up a notch. He would never have done that for her of course, for it was the act of a friend and not an ally. Still, he appreciated the save nonetheless.

  It took him a few moments to realise Honeywood was talking, and talking rapidly. She was asking whether he was all right, if he could move his legs, if he fancied getting up any time soon, and he felt a wash of shame as he realised he was letting two women do all the work. The least he could do was assist in his own rescue.

  “I’m fine,” he said, throwing off any further assistance. He tested his legs by standing and found no bones were broken. They felt a bit sore, but then he had just had a prehistoric crocodile land on him.

  Honeywood released him at that moment and drew a pistol from her belt. The girl had stopped prancing around by this point – Aubin! That was her name – and the crocodile had disappeared. Garza quickly fought through what he knew of crocodiles, which was surprisingly little. He had never needed to know anything about them before coming to this world and since he had got here had seldom ventured out into the swamp. He supposed if he intended to become a better pit fighter than Honeywood he should have been learning all that sort of thing.

  “I can’t see it,” Honeywood said slowly, her concentration on the water. Garza was searching frantically where he stood also, and suddenly the air was cracked by an explosion. Honeywood had fired into the water in hopes of either hitting the thing or stirring it up to action; likely the latter considering how calm she was in these sorts of situations. It did nothing to bring the crocodile to them however.

  Aubin was by their side an instant later. “It’s a baurusuchus,” she said breathlessly, fear having just as much do to with her state as exhaustion. “Or at least I think it was. Anyway, the nostrils are at the front of its snout.”

  “I’m suitably amazed,” Honeywood said. “If you don’t have anything useful to say, just …”

  “The nostrils aren’t on top,” Aubin continued frantically.

  Honeywood and Garza were still staring into the water, awaiting the thing’s reappearance at any moment. Garza knew crocodiles were one of the fastest predators, knew from experience of only a few minutes ago in fact.

  “So they don’t drown when it rains,” Honeywood drawled. “Now go away. Maybe I should fire again.”

  “Maybe it’s gone,” Garza suggested.

  “Will you two listen to me!”

  Garza broke his eyes from the swamp then to see the veritable pleading in the young woman’s eyes. He realised whatever she was trying to say, it was important, and his mind worked quickly through what little she had provided. Its nostrils were on the front of the snout, so what? Maybe Honeywood was right and it was so it didn’t drown in the rain … Or maybe it didn’t need to have its nostrils on top of its head because it didn’t spend any huge amount of time in the water.

  Garza shoved Honeywood just as he caught something charging him out the corner of his eye. The baurusuchus, if that was what it was, had a scaly leather skin almost jet black, and ran at them on the long legs of a dog or cat. Its body was bulky, dense, and from the tip of its thick tail to the nostrils on the front of its razor-filled snout it was at least three metres, probably more. Its head resembled so much the ordinary crocodile of Earth it was uncanny, but it had been placed onto the body almost of a lizard.

  As with the simosuchus before it, this beast lived and hunted on land. It was perhaps simply that here in the swamp even a land-dwelling creature had to enter the water at some point. Perhaps the things were even adapting, just as well as the humans here.

  The beast careered through the space between Garza and Honeywood, would have taken a chunk out of a leg had Garza not reacted in time to shove her out the way. Aubin had backed off, a terrible blank fear to her eyes, her heart all but stopped in her chest. Garza was thankful she had not taken to screaming, so at least he could think, and put the girl from his mind.

  The baurusuchus spun to face them once more, its tail slashing about and catching Honeywood a glancing blow across the side, sending her reeling. The thing opened its maw and hissed like a snake or a jungle cat, and Garza found himself completely ignorant of how a crocodile should act; still, he was certain they didn’t tend to hiss.

  He could run, knew he probably should, but Honeywood was momentarily down and this was his opportunity. This was his chance to prove himself to her, to prove himself to himself. He wanted to wrestle these things in the pit, he would have to practise. And what better time to practise than when in the company of a master of the art.

  “Keep back,” he told Aubin, for it would not hurt for her to think he was being chivalrous in his defence of her. Perhaps it would win him some favours later on, allies over friends and all that. If she considered him a friend and he considered her an ally perhaps that was even better. She obeyed, not wanting to face the creature at all, and he crouched as he began to stalk the thing. The crocodile seemed to sense he was a formidable opponent because it began to ape his moves, circling him even as he was it. He locked eyes with the beast and bided his time, for if there was one thing he had a great deal of it was patience.

  The thing struck, launching all three plus metres at him, and Garza met the attack, dropping at the final moment to encircle the beast with his thick meaty arms. He had long ago heard someone quote someone else about having a lever to move the world, and knew in his training that leverage was indeed his best weapon. His weight and strength didn’t hurt either, especially in situations like this. Thus did he put all his weight behind his efforts, and pivoted, throwing the beast onto its back, where it crashed down amidst the marshy ground, and instantly began thrashing as it fought to right itself. Garza knew he would have several seconds before it managed to do so, and drew his hunting knife that he might make a show of …

  Pain shot through his leg as the mighty jaws clamped onto his shin and he fell, dropping the knife, throwing his arms about the snout of the beast. The speed of its recovery astounded him, and his mind screamed that he could not allow the thing to turn its head. He knew enough about crocodiles that their method of attack was similar to a shark. It would grab its prey and twist its head to tear out a huge chunk, or to sever a limb entirely. It would then retreat and wait for the animal to die of either shock of blood loss before moving in to claim the meal.

  Garza could feel the crocodile trying to turn its head for just such an attack and clung on for his life, turning his own body with the beast’s so that it could not have the chance to tear him apart.

  The swamp exploded once more with sound sudden enough to send a flock of what may have been birds flying from the trees. Another explosion followed, and another; then screaming. Garza felt the pressure on his leg ease and he was flung to one side. He landed heavily and could see Honeywood facing off against the brute, firing shot after shot into the face of the animal. One bullet tore through its maw, shattering teeth, and that was the one thing no predator would ever risk. The baurusuchus backed off swiftly, limping slightly and trailing blood. It charged straight past Garza without giving him a second glance and he watche
d the thing disappear into the rushes.

  His chance at greatness was gone.

  Suddenly there was a hand being held out to him. He looked up to see mild concern upon Honeywood’s features, although now the crisis was over she was returning to her usual stoic self.

  “Your leg should be fine, what with the armour you have in your boots,” she said.

  Garza batted the helping hand aside, wondering how the hell she knew about his reinforced boots, and scrambled to his feet. “I had him.”

  “Sure looked that way.”

  He narrowed his eyes at Honeywood, wondering what she had to prove. Did she really feel so threatened by him that she would interfere to this degree? Did she really feel the need to all but empty her gun to prove that he couldn’t handle the situation? And how many people did she plan on telling once they returned to the institution?

  “Here,” she said, handing him one of his guns. It had dropped from his side during the fight and he hadn’t even noticed. “You might need this, although I was using it along with mine and it didn’t seem to do much.”

  “It’s filled with blanks,” he said, snatching it back from her. “Thought it might come in useful in scaring the animals away without hurting them.”

  “Wow,” she smiled sarcastically, “you care for the animals now. How sweet.”

  “An animal’s at its worst when it’s wounded,” he snapped, “and the best way to avoid a wounded animal is not to wound it.”

  “Or to kill it.”

  “Get out of my face, Honeywood.”

  She raised her hands in placation, although there was still a sneer to her face. “Just trying to help, Garza.”

  “I don’t need your help,” he barked and turned his back on her. Aubin was there, more than a little stunned at his outburst, and he growled as he passed her. He could have done without her witnessing all of that as well.