Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor Read online

Page 17


  “Point taken,” he conceded.

  “Does it seem to you that more and more dangers are being attracted to us here?” I asked. “I mean the pterosaur which took Josh, something which made the tracks we saw, the big birds, that snake? Even the T-Rex is back, and those other, smaller dinosaurs have been hanging around.”

  “You’re right,” Lindadawn said. “They shouldn’t be, though. Without directors sending the golems here or nudging the biobeasts, it seems weird that on this whole reservation, they are congregating here.”

  “Unless they are just attracted to our smell. Without director guidance, maybe they just follow a pre-programmed directive. And we are the only humans left on the Reservation,” said Hamlin.

  “Maybe, but that still seems weird to me,” she answered back.

  We returned to our watching. I had counted that today was the earliest we could expect to see a rescue ship, so I kept glancing to hopefully see a vapor trail come out of the sky.

  Hamlin caught me looking up. “Really think they’ll come today?” he asked sardonically.

  “Well, they could.” I felt a little hurt at his attitude. It didn’t do any harm to hope.

  A chorus of growls interrupted my hurt feelings.

  “What now?” Hamlin asked, his voice exasperated.

  We stood, and our friends the smaller theropods, Mike had called them, made their appearance again. They came snarling and snapping at each other, moving up to the bridgehead. We moved forward, preparing to meet them if they tried to cross. They were smaller than a T-Rex, so it was conceivable that they could fit on the bridge.

  Their snarling turn to chirps as they examined the ropes, sniffing at them, one even mouthing a strand. When one of them took a tentative step on the rope, its small arms actually clasping the guide ropes, we knew it was time to move. We got ready, spears pointing forward when Hamlin pushed us back.

  “I’ve got this. You two get back and get ready to move. Use the toilet to barricade yourselves, if you have to.”

  “But…” I started.

  “I said get back. There’s not enough room on the bridge for more of us, and I want to stop them before they can jump onto this side. So for the last time, back off!” He glared at us.

  Lindadawn grabbed my arm and pulled me back a few steps. “He needs to do this,” she whispered.

  I didn’t want to agree, but I did move back a few meters, leaving Hamlin to face the oncoming beast. Although this was a dinosaur, it was moving almost like a man, sliding each step forward, each small hand keeping it upright as the bridge bounced with each step it took. When it was halfway across, Hamlin took a firm grasp of the ropes himself and jumped up, coming down with his full weight. The bridge bounced, and the dinosaur was almost bucked right off. It screamed its rage and managed to hang on. With Hamlin so close to the edge of the bridge, his efforts didn’t have as much effect as if he had been further out. He stepped out a few more steps.

  A second dinosaur started over. The two worked cross-purposes, their steps making the bridge bounce, but they managed to hold on with single-minded fierceness. The first one was almost to Hamlin when he ducked down and drove the spear up into its exposed belly. Taller than Hamlin, it could not reach down quickly enough while holding onto the ropes, and the spear went in deep. Hamlin quickly pulled it out, poised for another thrust, but it wasn’t needed. The beast reared back, trying to get away, letting go as it did so. With the second dino still coming, the rope bounced, and the first one went over the side.

  The last one let out a roar and jumped on the bridge, three-clawed hands struggling to get a grasp on the ropes. This bounced the whole bridge, almost throwing Hamlin over as well as the second dinosaur. That one fixed its eyes on Hamlin, then started forward with a new determination. Maybe I shouldn’t have anthropomorphized like that, to recognize such a human emotion in a prehistoric beast, but that was how I saw things at the moment.

  As the second one came forward. Hamlin dropped down again, again thrusting his spear up into its belly. This time, though, he couldn’t pull the spear free. As the thing roared and fell over the ropes to follow the first down into the water, it took the spear with it. Hamlin could only watch as it went, then turned to face the third one empty-handed.

  I ran forward shouting his name. He was a good three meters out by now, with the third beast was almost upon him.

  He turned for a second as I tossed him my spear. He grabbed at is as the third beast took a step, bouncing him high. He had to use both hands to hold on, and my spear went past him to fall into the river below.

  I watched it fall in pure horror. I started to wheel back to get Lindadawn’s spear, but Hamlin stopped me.

  “Just get back!” he shouted.

  He turned, then dropped low. He pushed forward, powerful legs exerting inhuman force. He hit the dinosaur low, just below the thing’s knees. Like the others, it had difficulty getting its head low while holding onto the ropes. Standing on only one rope, Hamlin was able to heave up, pushing the beast up and over the top ropes. Able to drop its head then, it grabbed at Hamlin, its jaws catching his extended arm. The dinosaur plunged down, pulling Hamlin with him.

  “No!’ I shouted, rushing forward.

  In the water below, I could see Hamlin and the beast struggling, but with the bounding current, I really couldn’t tell if it was against each other or merely to stay afloat. In seconds, they were swept from view. Lindadawn joined me, as we waited for the inevitable. It took awhile. Hamlin Cone was a strong man. But eventually, our telltales let us know. We were alone.

  Chapter 24

  The shock still hit us. Even after losing thirteen others, losing Hamlin seemed the last straw. Hamlin was our rock, our strength. And then he was gone, sacrificing himself for us. I noted, but couldn’t appreciate the irony that he and his erstwhile rival had come to a similar end, each bringing down a danger into the river. We backed up to our position on the rock, then sat down next to each other, our legs touching as if we could obtain some strength from our contact. Wordlessly, she handed me her spear, and wordlessly I accepted. Lindadawn was a better leader than I could ever be, but I was bigger than her and most likely better able to handle a spear should the need arise. And the need was almost certainly going to arise.

  “Can I change my mind?” I asked her.

  She looked at me with a puzzled look. “About what?”

  “I do regret this, and if I could, I would never have come.”

  She actually laughed and hugged me, kissing my cheek. It seemed strange to be laughing at a moment like this, and I was only half joking, but I let go and laughed too. I think we were laughing more in desperation than in humor.

  We leaned back on the rock wall, watching once again.

  “We’re not going to make it, are we?” she asked me calmly.

  “Nah, I don’t think so. Not unless help arrives pretty quick. Like I said before, the dangers are attracted to this place, and I think they’re going to keep on coming.”

  “Do you think we should try to leave?”

  “No. I think it’s us they are attracted to, not the place. And at least here, they have to come one-by-one. Out there…” I shrugged.

  “I know. That’s what I figured, too.”

  Quietly, she said, “I guess I should be angry at all of this. But you know, I just feel sad.”

  I couldn’t seem to get up enough emotion to actually get angry, so I just nodded in agreement.

  “We’re in the final two. I would’ve jumped for joy if you had promised me this on the way here. A 50-50 chance at winning. Now, it doesn’t mean anything,” she mused.

  “No, it doesn’t. But I’m glad it’s you, all things considered.”

  She hugged my arm in response. We sat there like that as time went on, whether 30 minutes or three hours, I really couldn’t say. My mind was drifting.

  Lindadawn pulled me out of my reverie. “Up there,” she pointed.

  For a moment, my heart surged. Is the rescue
ship here at last?

  Then it fell just as fast. Up high, but coming down in lazy spiral was a familiar shape of the pterosaur. Either it had somehow survived, or this was its twin.

  A screech sounded as it seemed to spy us. Its head was easy to spot, the long crest-like tube on the top of it making a pointer of where it was looking. As it circled down, the head remained fixed on us.

  “Should we move back into the camp?” Linda dawn asked me.

  “Probably, but I want to face that thing here. Up against the wall here, it’s going to have a hard time getting at us.”

  I could tell that she wanted to move back, but I was feeling stubborn. Maybe this was how Ratt had felt when she’d jumped that pig. I just hoped we didn’t have the same end result, though.

  It took an awful long time for the pterosaur to come down close to our level. It moved upstream, then dropping one wing, it wheeled on point and came rushing right at us. We hugged the wall, and it zipped past us, wing a hairsbreadth away as it went flashing by. It snapped out at us with its toothed jaw, but that was good meter or more away from us.

  It screeched again, but this time in frustration. It shot up higher in the wind currents, then wheeled again to come at us. This time, as it got close, I swung the spear with all my might. The sharp stone tip sliced readily through wing membrane and acted as a pivot point to bring the thing crashing to the ground.

  It flopped around for a moment, but before I could gather myself for an attack, it righted itself and moved up on the bony, well, elbows, for lack of a better understanding of pterosaur anatomy. It was huge, and its meter-long jaws threatened us, snapping in anger.

  With its wings spread, it struck me that the body of the thing wasn’t that large. While the wingspan was maybe 8 or 9 meters, the body itself might have been 60 or possibly 70 kilos. I was 80 myself, so I was actually bigger than it.

  While this thought struck me, the thing’s jaws also struck me, tearing a piece out of my free arm. Keep focused! I thought to myself.

  With blood flowing down my arm, I grasped the spear tighter and jumped forward. The pterosaur moved back, hissing. I could sense more then see Lindadawn moving off to my side, and the pterosaur seemed confused, swinging its head from one of us to the other. I timed the swing, and as it was moving toward Lindadawn, I struck. Jumping forward, I thrust the spear at it. The head came back at me, but the jaws were not open in time and the head merely hit against me. I fell, semi-stunned, but not before I had felt the spear enter yielding flesh.

  The pterosaur scrambled back, spear still stuck in it. It turned at the ledge and tried to launch itself out over the river, but the spear and torn wing kept it from gaining altitude. It flopped downward, and as we rushed over, we could see it hit the water.

  “Stay dead this time!” I shouted at it.

  Lindadawn took my arm in her hands, tsking as she examined it. She pulled me back toward the water spigot and unraveled a bit of Borlinga’s navy blue leggings, using the knife to cut off a length.

  “These are getting pretty ragged, but they’ll do.” She wrapped the cloth tightly around my arm.

  I flexed it. The bandage was holding.

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, we’d better get back to the bridge. Who knows what’s coming next?”

  I followed her back, the pain in my arm minimal.

  “How many more constructs do you think they’ve made? Shouldn’t they be running out soon?” I asked her.

  “Possibly,” she agreed. “But we don’t know for sure. We know the T-Rex is still out there, and the Hell Pig. But what else?” She simply shook her head.

  We took our place against the wall and sat down, waiting. Whatever was going to come was going to come, and we couldn’t control that. All we could control was how we met that challenge. Hopefully, we could handle it, like the snake or even the pterosaur.

  I pulled Yash’s kirpan out of its sheath, the gatra, turning the blade, catching the sunlight. It was a beautiful piece of work. The curve was almost a piece of art. And now this was our only real weapon left. Neither one of us had much confidence in the sling Lindadawn now carried, tucked inside her pants’ waistband.

  “Thank God for Sikhs and their traditions,” I remarked.

  “Amen to that,” Lindadawn agreed. “That knife has sure made things easier. And now, well….” She didn’t finish the thought.

  The knife might help against some dangers, but against anything big, well, how much use would it be? But it was better than our teeth and nails. Or the sling.

  “Be right back,” I told Lindadawn. I walked to the smoldering fire and cut a few pieces of the smoked Big Bird. Heat-dried, was more like it, not really smoked. We hadn’t tended the smoking as we should’ve. I took a sniff, and it smelled OK.

  Going back to Lindadawn, I held out a piece. She took it, gave a small grimace, then absentmindedly began to chew on it. I took a bite myself. It really wasn’t half bad. Sitting down again, I looked out across the bridge and into Indian Country.

  “And again, now we wait,” I said.

  “Yes, but for what? Rescue, or the next bad thing to come this way?”

  “I’m going to vote for rescue on that.”

  “OK, me too. Two votes to zero. Rescue it is.”

  Neither one of us felt like speaking much, so we sat there. Talking or not, we drew strength from each other. Just hearing her breathing, feeling her presence, assured me that I was not alone. And that was a comfort.

  We heard crashing in the jungle a few times. The T-Rex put in another appearance, its huge head sticking above the nearer, shorter trees for a moment before it moved off. A terrible ruckus some ways off might have meant something else bit the dust. As far as I was concerned, the more whatever was out there killed each other off, the better.

  As the afternoon wore on, it seemed as if maybe we would be left alone for awhile longer. I started to relax a bit, leaning companionably against Lindadawn. I must have even dozed off, because the next thing I knew was that Lindadawn was shaking me awake.

  “Over there, she whispered.”

  I looked to the far side of the clearing, and my heart fell. “Well, you told us that a lion would be too old season. Seems you were right.”

  Stalking carefully across the clearing was what even I recognize as a Saber-tooth Cat. It would have been hard to miss those huge incisors jutting from the thing’s top jaw. It wasn’t as lithe as a modern big cat. In fact, it was rather stocky, with a large, prominent hind end. But that stockiness exuded strength.

  It padded up to the bridge on enormous paws. Lindadawn and I stood up. I drew out Yash’s kirpan and held it out, feeling very out-classed. It was about the same size as one of the big cat’s fangs. I didn’t want to face it—sometimes you knew in your heart when you were totally over-matched.

  “Try the sling. Maybe a smack on the nose will dissuade it.”

  Lindadawn seemed about to say something, but she shrugged and took out an irregular piece of flint from her pocket. She readied the sling, and put the piece of flint in the bottom of the loop. As she started to whirl it over her head, the saber-tooth started for a second, slightly crouching before focusing on the whirling sling. Lindadawn let go, and the flint flew off weakly to one side, missing the cat by a good ten meters. The saber-tooth didn’t even watch the rock fly by. It was focused back on us.

  Without warning, the big cat leaped onto the bridge, covering a good third of the way in one mighty bound. Both hind legs slipped off the bottom rope, but it dug into the side stays with its front claws and scrambled back up. It started moving forward, slipping with each step, but easily holding on, eyes locked onto us the entire time.

  I looked at my puny knife. Retreat seemed the better part of valor. I grabbed Lindadawn by the shoulder and pulled her back. “Let’s get out of here!”

  At a dead run, we entered the camp. We went straight to the toilet, the only place we could close off. It was hot, extremely rank, and crowded with the two of us ther
e. But we weren’t about to leave to find something better.

  I couldn’t breathe through my nose, it was so bad. Even breathing through my mouth, I imagined the ammonia coating my throat. I pulled off my shirt and held it over my mouth, a makeshift gas mask.

  Lindadawn squirmed beneath me. “Get off,” she gasped.

  I hadn’t noticed that I was crushing her against the toilet bowl. I shifted, and she slid out to stand up. With nowhere else to go, I sat down on the bowl as she stood above me, arms braced above my shoulders. Her sweat formed, then dripped onto me.

  I wondered if the smell of the toilet would mask our presence or act as a beacon, letting anything know we were there. If anything wanted us, though, it would have to be able to pull open the door.

  Lindadawn opened her mouth and took a breath as if to say something, but I put my hand over her mouth. I had just heard something outside the door. She heard it too and froze. The sound moved off, and just as we started to relax a tiny bit, it came back. We could clearly hear something snuffing outside the door. We both jumped as the door shook, Lindadawn giving out a small yelp. She tried to squirm around, to face forward. Without really a place to stand, she fell into my lap, sitting on top of me, facing the door. I held out the knife, arm around her, the knife tip resting against the door.

  The door shook again, and we could hear scratching. I wished there was a handle, or anything that we could hold to keep it closed. But without power, only the weight of the door itself held it.

  The scratching stopped, and we thought we could hear the saber tooth move off. Lindadawn slumped back into me, her back against my chest. Her weight on my legs was making them a little numb, but I didn’t care. We could wait in here forever, as far as I was concerned.

  “Do you think it gave up?” she whispered.

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  We waited an eternity. I thought I heard something a few times, but the door wasn’t bothered. I finally began to hope that we had dodged another bullet. My legs were digging painfully onto the hard toilet seat, so I asked Lindadawn if she could shift her weight for a moment. She lifted up, and I repositioned myself gratefully. Even the smell was getting bearable.