Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor (18 page)

Chapter 23

With much sadness, we took Borlinga and gave her to the river. We hoped against hope that the rescue ship would arrive in time, but as her body bloated and began to smell, we knew it was time. No one said anything, but I think we all had private prayers for her onward journey.

We sat back against the wall which had become our home. We only went into the campsite itself to get food and water. It felt safer to be watching the bridge. Hamlin’s spear had broken off inside the predator bird, so he now carried Borlinga’s. We had sighted the T-Rex again as it crossed the clearing, not paying us any attention. It was probably way too big to cross the bridge, but my heart hammered in my chest all the same.

“In normal times, we would be pretty safe from him,” Lindadawn noted. “GBC frowns on repetitiveness, so except for, what was it, Season 16?” she asked as I nodded. “Well except for Season 16, cast members aren’t killed by the same danger. But we’ve had three people killed by the Hell Pig, so I wouldn’t count on that T-Rex staying out of the plot.”

I think subconsciously I had been hoping that, having killed me, the T-Rex was a done danger, that it wouldn’t concern us again. But I knew she was right. Without Production City directors, without guidance, the constructs were on their own. And we hadn’t even seen a natural any more dangerous than a rabbit yet. Odds were that something more dangerous was out there.

“I still can’t believe that they spent all that money on a T-Rex. Even Mr. Silver told me he was glad that worked out for them. But DreamWorks must have charged them an arm and a leg for that.”

“You don’t study history?” asked Lindadawn.

“Of course I do, but with regards to what?”

“You’ve heard analysts compare
Darwin’s Quest
to the gladiator game of Rome, right?”

“Well sure, of course.”

“They aren’t too far off. GBC gives violence, which the masses eat up, getting a vicarious thrill in the complete safety of their homes. They even give a thumbs up or down when they vote for repechage. But there is another analogy.”

“And that is?” asked Hamlin.

“Well, just like Claudius, like Nero, Like Caligula, they found out that the public needs more and more. More outrageous, more dangerous, more holo-worthy. The highlight of Season One was what, when the cast took on that lion? Do you think a simple lion would bring in the oohs and ahhs now?”

“A lion’s still a pretty fierce animal,” I countered.

“Of course it is, but it’s been done. Any more lions, and the public will tune out. The focus groups say they want more. The producers hear the reports. They tell the directors they want more. The directors tell DreamWorks they want more. DreamWorks delivers, and screw the cost. The show makes GBC a mint anyway, and they want to keep it that way.”

“So we get a T-Rex. Pity to poor cast members of Season 100? What will they get?”

“You’re assuming there will be any more new seasons after this debacle,” Hamlin put in sourly.

“Yes, I think there will be. They have invested too much in the reservation, and there are too many fans out there. This is just a bump in the road. That bump is our lives, of course, but to GBC, we don’t mean squat. They’ll have a special dedicated to us, then maybe delay the next season ‘in respect,’ of course, but believe me, the show will go on.”

“Well, that’s either pretty pessimistic or optimistic, depending on your point of view.”

“It’s neither,” she said. “It’s just reality.”

We ran out of steam, so we just sat there watching, ever watching the jungle. Finally, Hamlin broke the silence.

“We should have moved forward when it broke through the barrier. I should have seen that.”

This was at least the tenth time he had said something in this vein. And for the tenth time, Lindadawn and I protested. “We all should have seen that, but we didn’t. You can’t blame yourself. And you took that thing on, not us. If our viewers want Roman gladiators, they missed the most heroic fight yet on this stupid show. They just won’t know what they missed.”

“Yes, but if we’d met it right on the bridge, all of us might’ve made it.”

“And if Paul hadn’t been bitten by a snake, he would be alive. Or If Corter hadn’t been able to stop his slide, he would have joined Joda and Julie in going over the edge. We can’t live by ‘ifs.’ We can only move on.”

“What’s that?” I pointed to the end of the bridge.

We jumped up. A snake was making its way over the bottom rope without much problem, stopping its coils to test the air, its tongue flickering in and out. I didn’t know if it was prehistoric or not, a construct or a natural. But it looked nasty, and knowing the show, it was deadly. We had just been talking about meeting menaces at the bridgehead, so we moved forward, waiting for it.

As it got nearer, Hamlin stomped on the cable. This halted it momentarily, but it soon began moving forward again. When it was about a meter away, Hamlin tapped on one of the stays that secured the bridge to our side. The vibrations traveled to the snake
,
which stopped again, raising its head slightly. With one swing of his spear, Hamlin took the head off. The head flew over to land beside Lindadawn, the body writhing to fall off the bridge to the water below.

We looked at the head. The mouth gaped open, very prominent fangs glistening with drops of what had to be poison. Very carefully, I lifted the head with my spear tip, then flung it below to join the rest of the body.

“That wasn’t too difficult,” Hamlin said.

“No, you’re correct. But what if we hadn’t been watching? What if we’d been asleep?” asked Lindadawn.

“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.