Footprints of Thunder (63 page)

The helicopter was there as promised. Although Bill kept saying he’d “get the hang of it again soon,” he proved himself a reasonably competent pilot. They circled to identify the quilted segment, and then entered from the southeast. The skyscrapers in city center were gone, and most of the urban sprawl that covered the valley and hills had vanished. The shape of the land, however, was the same. Terry picked out the Columbia River glistening in the distance, and the Tualitan River, where it should be. The Willamette River was gone, but something reflected silvery light through the trees on the east side of the valley. If that was the Willamette it had been drastically rechanneled. The new forest itself was not uniform. Sections of it looked like they were being clear-cut, with the trees dropped on top of one another in a confusing jumble. Other sections seemed collapsed in, the trees holding one another up, as if they had been badly crowded. Other sections appeared to be normal forest. Then Bill spotted something.

“There! In that clearing!” he shouted.

He banked the helicopter to the right, bringing it full circle and dropping altitude at the same time.

The clearing looked more like a river bottom to Terry, a long earthy gouge that disappeared in the distance. The strip was speckled with large sheets of water that reflected the sun and clouds. Bill pointed again and brought the helicopter around so Terry could see a herd of animals. Terry first thought of buffalo, but dismissed the thought. These were much bigger, four-legged animals with long necks and tails.

They were dinosaurs. They seemed to be slowly walking along the bank of what had been a river. Bill and Terry watched the herd in silence, considering the implications. Then Bill made a wide circle and began searching again. West of the dinosaur herd they spotted a clearing. In it were three horses with riders, one horse carrying two. As Bill banked the helicopter, and circled, the riders stopped and watched it land. Bill kept the blades rotating while Terry jumped out.

Even from the air Bill and Terry could tell Ellen and Angie weren’t there, but the riders might have information. They looked to be a family. The man was riding double with a boy of about twelve, and the other two looked to be his wife and teenage daughter. They all looked comfortable on horseback and wore denim and flannel. But they seemed watchful. Everyone but the boy had a rifle. Terry approached carefully.

“Hi there. Can you help me? We’re looking for some people, two women.”

“I’d get back up in the air if I were you. There’s killer lizards in here, big ones.”

“I know, that’s why I need to find these people. One’s my wife.”

“She better not be in here. We just lost a horse to one— nearly got my boy.” The man nodded to the boy riding behind him.

“It killed Copper,” the boy sniffed. He had been crying.

“Came out of nowhere,” the man continued. “It was about half the size of my boy’s horse but had jaws you wouldn’t believe. Sank its teeth into the horse’s neck and brought old Copper to the ground. If my boy hadn’t jumped free he’d be dead.”

“Have you seen anyone else in here?”

“Saw some people this morning, but they were heading out, two men and a woman. You should do the same. Now we gotta go.” The man nudged his horse with his heels and headed off.

“Hey, how far does this go, anyway?”

The woman turned before she followed the others.

“Don’t know for sure. I heard Vancouver’s still there, but the bridges are down. Someone said it goes all the way to Wilsonville.”

John thanked her as she rode to catch up with the others. Wilsonville, he said to himself. They had already seen how far south the affected area was, and the woman had mentioned Vancouver. That meant not only was his house gone, but 90 percent of the metropolitan area was now dinosaur-infested forest.

Bill took them up again and deeper into the quilt. Two clearings later Terry spotted something orange—fluorescent orange and certainly not natural. Bill couldn’t land so he hovered at treetop level, giving Terry a better look. There were four three-wheeled ATVs in the trees. Two of them lay on their sides. Each one carried an orange flag on a seven foot whip pole— that was the orange Terry had spotted. They circled slowly but saw no signs of any people. Even when they widened their search circle they never found the owners of the bikes.

Terry directed Bill into the valley, using the few landmarks he could recognize, but mostly relying on his best judgment. Terry was directing Bill toward his house, or at least where his house had been. That would be the logical place for Ellen to look for John. Terry let Bill fly past the location before he directed him to circle. There was nothing there but forest. Bill’s circles grew wider and wider, and still they saw nothing but trees, no houses, roads or buildings. Surely, Terry told himself, Ellen and Angie would have realized the futility of their search by the time they got this far.

Bill’s air force eyes were used to seeing things from overhead, and again he spotted something new. Motorcycles were parked around a black spot in a clearing. He circled the clearing but again saw no people, only movement in the grass, small animals scurrying for hiding places. Bill landed near the bikes and left the rotors turning, then climbed out, offering an M-16 to Terry. Terry refused. He didn’t know how to shoot it and felt he’d be a danger to Bill if he tried.

The motorcycles were parked around a fire, still smoldering, littered with empty liquor bottles. In the grass on one side was the head of a dinosaur, about twice the size of a human head. Its eyes were gone and insects crawled over it, Terry was mesmerized. Even though it was as much a product of evolution as Terry, it seemed unearthly.

Bill climbed on one of the bikes, turned the key, then tried kick starting it. The loud whirring startled Terry and also something in the grass. Walking slowly toward the movement, Terry saw the grass had been trampled or run down in the makeshift path. More grass rustled to his right, and he froze. Then he stepped into the grass toward the movement. He took two steps down a slight hill before he saw it. It was a body, a human body, in worse shape than the dinosaur head. Large and small animals had been feeding on it, and it was nothing more than blackened meat. Terry turned away, struggling to control his nausea.

Bill was looking at the engine on the motorcycle when he returned.

“There’s a body down there,” Terry said slowly.

Bill stood up and merely looked in the direction Terry pointed.

“Well that might fit. These bikes have been sabotaged. Someone got mad and cut up their wiring, and maybe killed a guy.”

Before Terry could respond something big ran behind him. Bill shouldered his rifle and stared into the grass.

Suddenly a head popped up. It was larger than a human head, with an elongated snout and two rows of needle teeth. Hissing at them, it ducked its head and continued walking. Bill fired blindly after it.

“What are you doing, Bill? That’s an extinct species—
was
an extinct species.”

Another movement to Terry’s left brought Bill’s gun around again. Another head popped up and then disappeared, similar to the first. At the sound of more movement in the grass, Terry realized they were surrounded.

“They’re hunting us in a pack,” Bill said. “Stay close to me and when I say run, you run.”

Following Bill’s gesture, they stepped toward the helicopter. Terry wished he’d not turned down Bill’s other rifle. A pounding behind them caught their attention, and Bill and Terry turned to see a dinosaur about the size of a Shetland pony charge through the grass. Its body was gray-green, with a short thin neck and a tail held up almost to head height. It was running on two back legs and had short clawed arms folded against its chest. Its mouth was open, revealing its double row of teeth, but it made no sound. Bill fired three shots into the chest in quick succession and the dinosaur collapsed into the grass, tumbling toward Terry and Bill, yelping and screaming, drowning out the thump of the helicopter. Bill fired three more shots at movement to their left and was rewarded with another yelp.

“Run!”

Terry bolted toward the helicopter, gritting his teeth and pushing his legs to move him faster than he had in years. Bill pulled ahead of him, but Terry had nothing more to give. Terry’s eyes darted back and forth as he ran, watching for any signs of attack. As he pounded and puffed through the grass, he realized the sounds of the helicopter’s engines would drown out the noise of dinosaurs in pursuit. They could be surprised at any moment. Bill scrambled in as Terry ran to the far side, swung the door open, and climbed onto the seat. Just as he was closing the door he heard Bill yell a warning. Instinctively Terry leaned into the cockpit and pulled his exposed leg high. Teeth buried themselves into the seat beneath Terry, and the dinosaur struggled to pull the seat out from under him. Then Bill’s M-16 slapped down on Terry’s other leg. Terry froze, but Bill hesitated. Suddenly the dinosaur lunged for a better mouthful. Quickly Terry shoved himself up off the seat, his back arched. The jaws, snapped closed just below his crotch.

“Kill it, Bill! Kill it!” he screamed, and Bill fired a shot into the dinosaur’s head. Blood spattered Terry’s face and crotch. The dinosaur stopped moving and slumped, but its jaws were still set in the seat.

“Get it out of here. We’ve got to take off before another one gets us!”

Terry leaned on Bill and kicked the head. With each kick he heard the seat tear, but the dinosaur’s blood made the head slippery and Terry’s blows began to slide off. A dozen kicks later, the head flopped out the door with a piece of seat still in its mouth.

Bill increased rotor speed and pulled up immediately. As they lifted off, Terry could see two more dinosaurs running off through the grass. When they were safely away, Bill turned to Terry with a grin and shouted over the rotors.

“Now what was that about those things being extinct species?”

Terry, shaking, tried to maneuver his body onto what was left of the seat. As he put his headphones on, he heard Bill chuckling.

“That was the quickest conversion I’ve ever seen. ‘Save the endangered species’ to ‘kill it quick,’ in less than a minute. Say, Terry, you know, what kind of dinosaur that was, don’t you? Ballosaurus. It eats only one thing and it nearly had yours.”

Bill kept laughing, but Terry wasn’t amused and quietly fumed, watching below. But for a long time all he could see were razor sharp teeth snapping an inch from his crotch.

“What’s this? I don’t believe it.”

Terry looked but saw only foliage.

“No, up here. Over there.”

Terry looked to see skyscrapers shimmering in the distance— translucent skyscrapers. Portland was there now, but it hadn’t been just minutes ago. But was it really there? Did Terry and Bill need to see Portland so badly that their minds were creating it? Terry looked for landmarks, picking out the Bank of California, and the KOIN tower. Terry tried scanning vertically to the base of the skyscrapers, but they blurred into indistinguishable light and shadow at their base, making it impossible to distinguish cars and people.

“Think Ellen and Angie made it into the city? Maybe my son is there now. Let’s fly into it, Bill. See if we can find them.”

Bill hesitated, holding the helicopter in a hover. Terry had never seen him indecisive before.

“What’s the problem? Let’s go find our people.”

“Something’s not right … mmmm … It doesn’t look real … doesn’t look stable.”

“If it’s not real it will disappear as we approach it.” Terry said it with more confidence than he felt. Why was the city flickering like a mirage?

The helicopter tilted nose down and started forward. Bill stiffened noticeably, shaking Terry’s confidence as they moved forward. Terry found it difficult to stay focused on the city. His eyes seemed to fix on the hills shining beyond the city. Then the buildings began to fade. Terry blinked to bring the image back, but it continued to fade until it was gone. Bill slowed the helicopter, hovering again, staring at the forest where the city had been.

“Hallucination?” Bill asked.

“Two people sharing a hallucination is extremely rare. Maybe a mirage.”

“We’re low on fuel. A couple more passes, then we need to head back.”

Bill turned back to resume his spiral search pattern and Terry returned to his watch, surprised at how easily he could put the vanishing city out of his mind. It was, he realized, just one facet of a mystery that had consumed his son, and perhaps his wife.

62. Captured

It happened mid morning when everyone was about their daily tasks. Suddenly burning planks began to fall from the sky. The fiery planks were of similar width, but varied in length, and all were aflame. The planks were quickly extinguished. The villagers turned to the priest, fearing witchcraft and seeking explanation, but he had none to offer.

—
Francois Delaine, Province of Tournaine, France, August 15,1670

Forest, former site of Portland, Oregon

PostQuilt: Wednesday, 10:05
A.M.
PST