Time Crunch Page 10

  “Think it’s going after the elvisaurs?” Chase couldn’t help worrying about the little ones.

  “I doubt it,” Zach said. “They’re pretty fast and hard to catch.”

  “But—”

  “And the babies aren’t worth its time. I mean, think about it. It’d have to eat a couple hundred to make any difference, and that’s not gonna happen.” Zach cast a quick glance into the woods behind them. “It might have caught a whiff of an isanosaur: they’re easy to catch. But I dunno. Could be anything.”

  “Think it was looking for us?”

  “It’s possible. They’ve got good noses, and when it was right there, I was sure it was gonna smell us.”

  Chase shuddered and looked back himself, just to be sure nothing was following them.

  THEY CAME TO one of the wide, pulverized game trails, the ground torn and trampled by massive sauropods. Zach looked back and forth, then shook his head in disappointment.

  “Too bad,” he said. “I was hoping we’d see a couple.”

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause they’re so freakin’ awesome. The way they move, and graze, and look around … I could follow them around all day and never get tired of ’em. Besides, when they’re around you usually don’t see a lot of predators. You know, allosaurs and whatnot.”

  “Why not?”

  “ ’Cause they’re just like everything else; don’t wanna get trampled.”

  He glanced at Chase, then began trudging across the trail. “There are exceptions, of course. But any time you’re close to apatosaurs, you usually don’t have to worry about anything else.”

  He reached up to scratch his nose.

  “ ’Course, you gotta be careful that you don’t get stepped on.”

  Chase just nodded. After his experience the day before—

  Holy cow! Was that just yesterday?

  —he wasn’t anxious for another close encounter.

  They hiked for nearly an hour, then Zach once again began walking a little more slowly, and carefully, casting his eyes nervously back and forth.

  “You hear something?” Chase asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Then what are you looking for?”

  “We’re getting close. It’s not like there’s an electric fence or something to keep them home: if they know you’re here they’ll come after you, no matter whose territory it is. But we’re getting close to dilophosaur country.”

  He pointed at the ground.

  “If you see scat—you know, dino crap—and it’s got crushed bones inside, you know it’s from a predator and it’s time to worry.” He stopped and looked at Chase. For the fourth or fifth time he asked, “You sure you want to do this?”

  Chase choked back a sarcastic reply. He knew Zach wasn’t trying to be annoying: his friend was simply driving home the danger of the situation. He was about to say something, but—

  “Jeez, Louise, what is that?”

  Zach stiffened, then relaxed as he realized Chase wasn’t scared, but surprised. He glanced up to where a strange reptile was perched on the limb of a dead tree. He laughed.

  “Oh, yeah. Meet the world’s goofiest bird.”

  Chase knew the creature wasn’t really a “bird”—it was obviously some kind of pterosaur—but didn’t say anything.

  “I think it’s a dimorphodon,” Zach went on. “But I can’t remember exactly.”

  Chase couldn’t help laughing at the absurd bird. He’d once encountered a bunch of mean, deadly, pterodactyl-like things that still gave him nightmares.

  But this thing—

  At first glance it resembled a humungous bat with wide, leather-like wings. But it was larger than an eagle, covered with tough, wrinkled, iguana-like skin. It was standing erect, its wings stretched out like Dracula’s cape in an old black-and-white movie. It had a long kite-like tail with a leaf-shaped pad at the end.

  But the strangest thing was the nose: rather than a long, saber-like beak, the “bird” had the hooked bill of a toucan. The bill was striped with a rainbow of colors and was the most ridiculous-looking thing Chase had ever seen.

  “Why’s it standing like that?”

  “They do it all the time. It’s a like a ‘thing.’ The best I can figure is that it’s been fishing, and it’s holding its wings out to dry off. Or maybe it’s just trying to warm up. You know, just trying to catch some rays.”

  “It looks like it’s trying to scare us.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Zach said sarcastically, as if such an absurd-looking creature could actually frighten anything. “But don’t let it fool you. Take a good look at that beak.”

  Chase looked. The bright colors were what caught his eye—

  It really does look like a colorful toucan from the Amazon.

  —but then saw what Zach was talking about. Rows of sharp needle-like teeth extended from the bill like the overlapping teeth of a crocodile.

  “Yeah,” Zach said, knowing Chase had seen them. “He bites your finger and you’ll probably lose the whole arm. I think that’s how they hunt. They show up all goofy-looking, and while you’re rolling around in laughter they fly down and bite you on the butt.”

  Zach looked away from the dimorphodon and turned back to the forest ahead.

  “Okay,” he said, lowering his voice. “We’ve gotta be quiet. Whisper if you need to talk, and watch your step. I think they hear you as much as smell you. And once they know you’re coming, you’re toast.”

  Chase nodded. “Won’t the forest go quiet? Like when we saw the zachiosaur?”

  “Not always. Once dilophosaurs set up an ambush—once they go stealthy—the other animals literally forget they’re there. Like, in seconds. So no. If we run into them, we probably won’t have any warning.”

  Chase felt another chill, and after a moment realized his knees were shaking. It was like being in a horror movie, knowing the slasher was hiding inside the house but going in anyway.

  He wanted to turn around and run. But he knew he had to keep going. Not just because it was the right thing to do. But because there simply wasn’t another choice.

  He reached down and placed a hand on his thigh—hoping to quiet the shakes—then nodded to Zach.

  Let’s go.

  “IF THERE ARE dilophosaurs around,” Chase asked quietly as they hiked, “why do other animals come here?”

  “Well, it’s not like anywhere’s safe, really. And an animal’s instincts are pretty strong. Like salmon swimming upstream? So if an animal senses it needs to go this way or that, it doesn’t waste time wondering about the neighborhood. It just goes.”

  Chase nodded, but nevertheless scoured the forest with his ears as much as his eyes. At the moment there were still plenty of squeaks, cheeps, and peeps from small animals—

  So they, at least, think things’re safe …

  —along with the constant buzz of bugs and insects.

  Never heard so many bugs, he thought. Forest must be crawling with them!

  He grinned at his own joke—lame as it was—then froze as Zach stopped and lifted a hand. Chase instantly went into flight mode, ready to run for his life … but Zach was just looking ahead. After a moment Zach motioned for Chase to come closer.

  He pointed to the ground ahead.

  Chase instantly spotted what Zach was looking at: there were several piles of knee-high dung, all of them fresh, and green, and buzzing with flies. Zach caught Chase’s eye—making sure his friend understood—then scanned the forest with renewed intensity.

  Chase did, too, then looked back at the dung. Clearly visible in the moist, moldering waste were the crushed, splintered, chewed-up fragments of bones.

  I wonder what—

  Chase felt instantly sick, knowing the bones might not be the remains of unlucky dinosaurs, but of people he’d been talking and hiking with the day before.

  He clamped a hand over his mouth, on the verge of throwing up. His knees shook as hot bile rose in his throat. He fought back a dry retch, then forc
ed himself to take several deep breaths, worried about the sound he was making.

  Zach patted his shoulder in understanding, then pointed to the side: Let’s go that way.

  Chase nodded, grateful for his friend’s compassion. He followed Zach, being cautious of where he stepped, still thinking of Smith’s commandos and realizing he’d begun thinking of them as friends.

  Zadina.

  Bridger.

  Treeck.

  Captain King.

  Even grumpy Mr. Smith …

  After several minutes, Zach stopped again—not quickly—and lifted his nose. He turned this way and that, and after a moment Chase realized he was sniffing the air. Chase took a cautious sniff himself and instantly understood.

  There was a distinct aroma in the air: not a pleasant one, and definitely not a natural one. It was the smell of smoke, and burnt rubber, and jet fuel. Zach turned and lifted an eyebrow, silently asking, You smell that?

  Chase nodded and pointed: Coming from over there …

  Zach nodded and moved off again, walking slowly, now more alert than ever, worried about possible ambush. Chase followed just as slowly, constantly scanning the brush and casting frequent glances back over his shoulder.

  We’ve been attacked three different times, he remembered. Both commando teams were ambushed by dilophosaurs, and ceratosaurs hit the camp last night. Not to mention the stegosaur stampede that destroyed the jet.

  He knew it was insanely dangerous to be there, but knew he had no choice. He had to find out what had happened, needed to know if anyone was still alive.

  And to help anyone who was.

  Zach stopped again, looked slowly around, then continued on. After another couple of minutes he stopped and crouched, then crept forward like a woodsman stalking game.

  Chase followed.

  Another minute passed, then Zach lowered himself to his knees and motioned for Chase to do the same. He stared into the brush, then turned, pointed ahead, and mouthed, Right there!

  Zach lowered himself to his belly and began army-crawling through the brush. Chase followed, finally seeing an opening in the trees ahead.

  The meadow!

  Zach crept to the edge of the clearing; Chase crawled up beside him. Zach looked around, then pointed off the side. A dozen isanosaurs—the giraffe-like things—were grazing near the trees, along with a dozen or so apatosaurs.

  Zach was right, Chase thought, looking at the colossal apatosaurs. When they’re not running over you, they’re pretty cool!

  He tore his eyes away from the magnificent animals and looked at the ruined jet. Even though it had only been destroyed the day before, it looked like it had been rotting and falling apart in the grass for years.

  Fire really did a number on it, he thought. Never guess it was flying around just a day ago. And: It’s gonna shock the socks of whoever finds it a hundred million years from now!

  He grinned, knowing he’d love to see the look on the guy’s face when he did.

  ONE OF THE apatosaurs was lumbering toward them: Chase felt the earth tremble with every step. The massive animal turned to follow the edge of the trees, passing mere feet in front of the two boys.

  Zach looked over, his eyes wide and bright and full of excitement. He seemed to be asking: See? Cool, huh?

  The apatosaur bit into a tree branch overhead, then shook its head, tearing the branch free. A shower of leaves and twigs and hot apatosaur drool rained down on the boys. For a moment, Chase completely forgot the horror and fear and terror of the last two days, swept away in the joy of seeing a dinosaur without worrying about being trampled to mush or eaten for dinner. He grinned as the apatosaur crunched down its mouthful of leaves.

  The dinosaur took another bite—another shower of limbs and leaves and dinosaur drool raining down—then moved on, its long tail stretching away in the air—

  BRAAAAAWWWWWWWWWP!

  The sound was deep and disgusting, the air suddenly so rank and foul and unbreathable that Chase’s eyes began to water. He screwed his face up in disgust, catching a glimpse of Zach shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Zach finally looked over, his face pinched tight as if asking, Are you kidding me?

  Chase tried holding his breath, but the horrible, sour smell was too powerful to shut out: the stench filled his nose, nearly choking him.

  Zach finally couldn’t stand it anymore. He made a sound like a yakking dog and whispered, “I think I’m gonna die!”

  “Ugh!” Chase clamped a hand over his nose. “I can’t … believe … it just did that!”

  “I know, right?” Zach sucked in a quick breath through his mouth. “That’s something they never talk about in science class!”

  Chase fanned the air in front of his face. “I’ve got a”—he gasped—“new understanding of fossil fuels.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s where we get gas …”

  Zach abruptly laughed, then remembered where he was and choked down the chuckle.

  “I don’t know why it surprises me,” he whispered after a moment. “I mean every other creature on the planet does it.”

  “But it’s different coming from a forty-ton animal.”

  The apatosaur took a step as if moving on, but then lifted its tail. A jet of hot, putrid liquid sloshed down with the force of a fire hose, splattering the grass and splashing both boys.

  “Jeez, Louise!” Chase shouted, rolling away.

  Zach hopped to his feet to escape the deluge, but slipped and went down beneath the downpour.

  “Aaaaaaiighh!”

  He looked up, tried to stave off the shower with his hands, then rolled to his belly and skittered away like a urine-soaked centipede.

  Chase tried to follow, but was laughing so hard his bruised ribs burned. He dropped to his knees, holding a hand over his belly as Zach shook himself, trying to rid himself of the fetid liquid.

  “Oh. My. Gosh!” Zach said, holding his arms out like a drenched dimorphodon. “I wish it’d just eaten me!”

  12 The Fight

  THE BOYS DRIED themselves off in the sun, then tramped through the tall grass to what was left of the jet. Zach shook his head as he studied the ruined aircraft.

  “Man, those animals really did a number on this thing. I bet it cost, like, ten million dollars. And it’s worth about a billion.”

  Chase looked over and Zach nodded matter-of-factly.

  “A plane that can fly into alternate realities? Take you to the time of dinosaurs? Yeah, it’s worth a lot of money.”

  “How many of them are there?”

  “Two … well, only one now.”

  “And it’ll be here in about a week.”

  “Yeah.” He looked around. “So where’s your camp?”

  Chase pointed. “Over there, inside the trees.”

  “Think it’s safe?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “All right. But be careful.”

  The boys walked toward the campsite. Chase didn’t know if the presence of apatosaurs had any impact on dilophosaurs or ceratosaurs, but with the huge animals wandering around so peacefully the forest felt a little less ominous.

  Chase stopped in his tracks when he saw what was left of the campsite.

  “Jeez,” he said, so stunned he forgot to whisper.

  The camp had been completely demolished. The tents had not only been ripped apart, they’d been shredded. Strips of torn fabric littered the ground and hung from the brush. Supply boxes had been smashed, split, and splintered, everything inside torn open or mashed to a pulp.

  Chase couldn’t see a single thing that remained intact.

  He and Zach stood motionless for a moment, neither of them anxious to go any closer. Chase knew his friend was hesitant for the same reason he was, but—

  “I don’t see anyone,” Zach whispered.

  Chase nodded, knowing his friend wasn’t referring to living people, but bodies. But he wasn’t surprised. He’d once read that after lion and tiger attacks in Afri
ca and India, there was rarely anything to see.

  No torn, shredded clothing.

  No gory pools of blood.

  No bloody, mangled body parts.

  Most times, in fact, there was nothing more than a few discrete drops of blood and, perhaps, tracks from whatever had been there.

  Tracks …

  Chase checked the ground. Dozens of tracks crisscrossed the campsite, many of them deep with three toes, others made by boots.

  He studied the boot tracks, but it was impossible to tell when they’d been made. They could have been the tracks of survivors, or they might have been made before or during the attack.

  But there was something missing. At first he couldn’t put a finger on it. But when he figured it out, he felt a spark of elation.

  “Somebody survived,” he announced quietly. “I don’t know how many. But someone, at least.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Something important’s missing,” Chase said.

  “What’s that?”

  “This was like an army camp,” Chase prompted. “These guys are like soldiers. Commandos. And that means—”

  “Guns.”

  Chase nodded. “I can’t see any guns. And no ceratosaur took ’em. So that means—”

  “Somebody picked ’em up.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, that’s good news. Means someone not only survived, but they’ve got weapons.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So where do you think they went?”

  “Tough to say. They could have gone anywhere.”

  “Huh.” Zach gestured toward the camp. “You think they left anything valuable behind?”

  “I doubt it. But let’s find my tent. I had some stuff in it.”

  HIS TENT WASN’T where he’d last seen it. After poking around a while, he eventually found bits and pieces inside the trees, the fabric ripped, mangled, and shredded. Something had torn it apart, possibly picking up his scent and thinking he was still inside. A short distance away he found what was left of his pack: it too had been torn to pieces, either during the original attack or by scavengers later on.

  He also found his headset, but it had been smashed, stepped on by a raging dinosaur or a fleeing commando.

  Didn’t really matter which.

  “There aren’t any dead ceratosaurs around either,” Zach noted.