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Authors: Terrence Zavecz

Crucible of a Species (34 page)

BOOK: Crucible of a Species
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Something hit Sandra, throwing her to the side. Painfully she sat up but a thick grey, almost golden colored tail as thick as her waist knocked her down. There was no sound, scream or cry but two paces from her a monster was shaking Venu’s body like a pit bull with a rat. The thickset, muscular albertosaur had the programmer by the base of the neck and as Sandra stared in shocked disbelief, she heard a loud snap as the albertosaur snapped his spine. The dinosaur stood shorter than her height but it was unbelievably muscular with an unnaturally large, broad head that easily lifted the programmer’s body.

Shieve’s world focused on its bellows-like breathing. The stunned physicist sat motionless, staring at the frightening diorama before her until a scream shattered the spell. She scrambled to rise and fled amid the shouts and cries. Grass off to her right was moving, strangely keeping pace with her. Another growl and trilling lifted off to her left and she knew they surrounded her.

Rifle fire erupted from armed personnel who formed a line at the camp’s edge. Blasts of air on each side marked the passage of shots fired into the grass around her and someone was shouting as she approached but she couldn’t understand the words. The vision of Venu’s body, silently ravaged almost within an arm’s reach, burned fresh in her mind and she dearly wanted to be in the safety of camp and other humans.

Two arms of steel caught her as she flew past the line of gunmen. She struggled but they held and suddenly she felt warm, protected, safe. He was talking to her. Forcefully but in calm control, “Dr. Shieve, snap out of it. I’ve got you. Stop.”

Sandra looked up and saw a strong masculine face with wide set green eyes. She didn’t recognize him but she stopped struggling, lowered her head and felt ashamed, “I’m sorry,” she said as he released her. When she looked up, he was gone.

A cacophony of shouts, screams and rifle-fire mixed with the wild calls of the attacking albertosaurs. Sandra’s head spun in the confusion -- people running past, someone lying on the ground, their arm gone at the elbow, a rifle lying in the grass to one side. She stood and shivered, wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. Willing herself forward she took a hard step, then two and leaned over to pick up the rifle. The physicist checked the ammo block and saw that it was a full load.

The familiar actions calmed her, she sensed control returning. Stiff legs carried her forward on pain-filled ankles to the thin line of humans standing at the edge of the camp.

The firing was hard and furious as she approached. A flash of golden-brown blurred across her field of vision to snatch a man out of line, dragging him into the field, he was still alive. Sandra lunged forward but an arm reached out, yanking her back. Before she could object, a second albertosaur struck where she had been standing. Two-inch long claws on its foot slashed the victim, the predator’s blow flung the bleeding human’s body across the grass. Through it all the firing continued, miraculously missing both dinosaurs. The violence and constant volleys of close rifle fire stunned Sandra; she stared as another human run out and grabbed the fallen human’s leg, pulling the body back.

Someone next to her shouted, “You can’t run out like that. They come in twos and threes and the next one will grab you when you break formation. Luckily, they’re not charging directly in on us or they’d crash right through our defense.”

He raised his rifle and fired as another golden body flashed across the front of the line. The one behind it swerved in its charge, hitting three humans who were standing to their right. The humans redirected their fire, “Pull back. Pull back, tighten up the line.”

Sandra’s portion of the line pulled back and the albertosaurs closely followed. Smaller predators joined the attack, cutting through the line, nipping at the humans as they passed.

It was then that the albertosaurs changed tactics. They charged directly into the thin line of gunmen. Some broke through the defensive ring to run deep behind the defenders and into the camp’s center and then across to the backs of the humans on the opposite side. Sandra ignored the screams behind her, turning back in time to see four of the predators charging directly at her. She added her fire to that of the others in the line. The monsters crashed into the dirt, never to complete their charge but elsewhere others were successful. Screams and cries mixed with the calls of the rampaging albertosaurs behind her. She couldn’t turn to look for fear of another attack from the front but her spine crawled with the dread of something unseen slamming into her from behind.

*~~*~~*~~*

Two additional packs joined the family
of albertosaurs in the woods as the attack began. This was unusual but so was everything else in these unclaimed hunting grounds. The leaders watched each other silently. Close proximity of three unrelated groups made them all uneasy but all were reluctant to ruin the hunt with squabbling. Anticipation grew as they heard the youngsters step up their drive in the field.

The small herbivores didn’t immediately break and run, instead something unexpected happened. As the young-ones attacked, sharp blasts echoed across the meadow and many of the leaders simply fell to the ground, some crying piteously to their brothers and sisters. As expected, many small, soft bodies of grass eaters lay strewn across the meadow but so did many of the young albertosaurs.

Excited cries, flat and soft in tone, rose from the resisting prey as the young hunters pulled back from their charge. The youngsters had learned well. They paused, working their way back through the high grass of the killing grounds, looking for a weakness in the line of defenders before them just as they did when hunting larger, more dangerous prey.

The cries and smells of the prey were like nothing the pack had ever experienced. It was a low, musky scent and it clung to everything but even more surprising was the taste of salt. Salt filled the hot, metallic taste of the blood of their prey and it carried across the air currents. Its presence invoked a craving within the predators that was enough to excite even the least active albertosaur.

The young hunters gathered again to face the now smaller herd of grass eaters that had not, but should have, run. They had to drive them into the woods. Break their defense and push them onward to where the true killing would begin.

Frustrated by their lack of success, a group of the juveniles changed tactics and charged directly into the herd’s defensive line. Four young predators managed to break through and bring death to those cowering inside. Their pitiful, rising screams excited those outside the defensive circle and they joined the charge. Prey animals still standing on the outside edge of the herd fell back until a few broke and fled into the woods.

Surprisingly, many of the grass eaters stood their ground. They had not fled into the woods but neither did they come forward to challenge the young albertosaurs and die. This was the exciting time. It was the point at which the last of the herd broke and ran for cover. It would take one more hard push.

*~~*~~*~~*

“Stay put. Stand where you are.”
Someone screamed from behind Sandra as she fired at figures darting across the field with incredible speed; dipping, hopping and twisting in their charge. Screams and shouts rose behind them. Human voices mixed with dinosaur and the physicist could not resolve the difference in the turmoil.

Shouted cries filled the air behind her as she fired. “Tighten up. Tighten up the ring.” Something roughly grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, “Move it, we have to tighten up the ring. Pull back or you’ll find yourselves alone out here. Back, come on.”

Sandra swallowed her heart and carefully paced backwards. The press of the attack held her eyes to the front as she carefully back-stepped, firing at the fleeting figures before her with every step.

The attack seemed to let up and Sandra chanced a glance behind her. Where had they gone? Had they left them alone here in the field? She spotted CPO Daniel Meecham standing off to the side. His head was bleeding and he held a rifle in his hand as he noticed her looking around. His low pitched, melodious and amazingly calm voice carried across the field with astonishing force, “Dr. Shieve, turn about if you please. I’ve got your back covered but you have to hold your place.”

Dr. Shieve could hear his voice getting louder as he approached behind her, “Don’t turn around again. You have to face forward. They’re not bothering us from the backside just yet. I think they’re trying to break us up and unfortunately, many have already fled.

“I fear those who fled are lost. They broke and ran but you have to stay or we are all lost. We cannot let them drive us into whatever is in …”

The chief was interrupted by head-throbbing roars and screams that erupted from the woods behind the group. Several of the humans turned as another charge came at them from the open field. One human died right there, trampled and gored under the sharp claws of the small albertosaurs. A roar of multiple Pulsars lifted from behind the line and those dinosaurs didn’t return to the others. “Get back in line. Face forward and stand your ground or we’re lost.” The chief shouted as he walked behind them, slapping them on the back, shoulder or backside to straighten the firing line.

*~~*~~*~~*

Inside the woods
waited the older albertosaurs. As the panicked humans entered, they saw only tranquil woodland and thickets. The predators within silently stood as their prey passed, allowing most of those fleeing to move deep into the trees. Then, as if on a signal, they began to move.

The older, much heavier predators ran with an ambling gate, their heads and bodies held low in the front and counterbalanced by a massive tail that swung above the ground at more than the height of a man. Each of the animals had sets of long bones that nature had arrayed around the spine and extending down inside their tails like the rods of a Roman Fasces. These bones hardened with maturity, holding the appendage stiff as they ran, providing a counterweight that allowed the three-ton adults to dodge and turn with amazing grace and rapidity even inside the forest.

The human’s first notice of them occurred when the predators began to move. The tyrannosaurs magically materialized around them and the hearts of those fleeing sank for these swift, dark demons were more than twice the size of the monsters they fled.

The albertosaurs charged without mercy through the panicked band. There was no cover to save them here in the open woods, no defending line of riflemen. The massive albertosaurs did not stop to eat or even finish the kill as they charged. Their intent was simply slay or maim. The final killing and feast would come later.

Humans, still out in the field, heard their horrible screams mixed with a wailing, keening sound that echoed across the glade. The humans that had fled into the woods seeking cover and protection found instead a piece of hell.

*~~*~~*~~*

Dr. Sandra Shieve
forced her eyes front and tried to ignore the cries, shouted cursing and firing that came from the woodland. A cluster
of trees shook near the edge capturing her attention and three massive albertosaurs emerged behind the humans in the open camp. The humans watched golden bodies with coal black heads majestically rise from the thick undergrowth at the edge of the jungle. Two of the heads had feathery, blood red crests running down their backs that shook in tune with the excited quivering of the monster’s muscles. Defiance and contempt for the human prey emanated in their casual stance as they stood there, looking out across the battlefield.

Firing slowed as others in the defensive line turned to stare until Chief Meecham’s voice rose above the din, “Stop staring and shoot the bastards!”

The three adult predators turned their heads upon hearing the chief’s command and then the albertosaurs were no longer there. Meecham was furious, “God damn it if you didn’t miss a friggen opportunity and you’d better pray it doesn’t cost you dearly later on. Get back on the ball. Eyes forward.”

The cries from the woods gradually died off. Sandra relaxed a little in spite of the chief’s words and prayed it was over. Everything seemed so strange. The whole valley held its breath.

Tall grass off in the distance once more began swaying. There was no wind but hundreds of invisible demons approached, each threading their individual course through the willowy strands. The trails meandered and crisscrossed on their varied paths but inexorably led ever closer to the band of humans.

This approach was different, the charge was measured; silent, deliberate and final.

A knife-sharp, ear-splitting cry like the piercing screech of a giant eagle split the air. It came from the woods to deaden their ears. Another and then a third followed until every limb and leaf within the dark woodland shook and quaked as it marked the progress of the oncoming charge.

Rumbling cries rolled thickly across the open field like flowing, burning oils of Greek fire. Mind-numbing waves of sound buffeted eardrums and shook the skulls of the defenders and their frail bodies quaked for deadly intent was clear and dread filled their world.

The line instinctively drew tighter. Gone were the bystanders hiding in the center of the defensive circle. Those who were able rose to grab rifles, knives, clubs, tools and even rocks to stand in line.

Chief Meecham’s baritone voice barely carried over the fearful din smothering the field but each survivor’s heart already knew the message, “This is it. They’re done playing around. Keep your place and watch your zones. You hold that line this one last time or we are all dead.”

BOOK: Crucible of a Species
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