Time Crunch Page 11

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “Scavengers probably dragged ’em off.”

  “ ’Spose.”

  “So what now?”

  “Get back to your campsite … without being eaten on the way?”

  “Yeah, we got here okay. But now we’ve got to get back home again. It’s the whole mountain-climbing thing.”

  “Mountain climbing?”

  “People get excited when they get to the top of a mountain,” Zach explained. “But they forget they’ve still got to get back down again—”

  “Yeah,” Chase said, catching on. “And there are a heckuva lot of things that can go wrong on the way.”

  GOING BACK through the forest was as tense as it was coming in. And the farther they went, the more frightening it became.

  After all we’ve been through, Chase thought, I can just see getting eaten at the last second!

  But eventually Zach seemed to relax.

  “I think we made it,” he said, looking into the forest behind them. “Like I said, it’s not like there are lines or fences or anything. But I think we’re through the worst of it.”

  “Good.”

  “So let’s get back to camp. We know it’s safe there. And I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.”

  AS THEY WERE hiking, a roar abruptly rose from the distance, followed by a heated bellow.

  Zach looked up, turning his head to determine the direction.

  “Sounds intense,” Chase said, the howls and snarls quickly escalating into what sounded like an intense, savage battle.

  “It happens.” And then: “Wanna watch?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Why not? Whatever they are, they’re gonna be too busy to notice us. And every other dinosaur will be running as fast as it can the other way.”

  Chase frowned uncertainly. Sneaking close to a fight every other creature was running away from didn’t seem too smart. But there was a problem:

  He wanted to see it.

  “All right.”

  “Cool.”

  Zach instantly struck off in a different direction. The sound of heated battle—the growls, snarls, and bellows—became even more intense. It was hard to tell over the noise, but Chase thought the smaller forest creatures had gone quiet, as if frightened by the fight.

  Once, several small theropods came sprinting past—putting as much distance as possible between them and the fearsome combatants—but Zach saw them coming. He simply pulled Chase behind a tree as the small lizards raced by.

  As they crept closer, Chase began hearing sharp cracks and crunches as the animals fought, the sounds of trees and brush being smashed, broken, and flattened.

  Zach slowed, then took cover behind a tree, Chase close behind. The fight was just ahead now. Zach peered around the tree, took a quick look, then ran even closer, stopping behind another tree. Chase made a hasty scan of the forest behind them before following.

  Zach peeked around the tree, waited a moment, then made another quick sprint through the brush, Chase hot on his heels.

  “They’re just ahead,” Zach whispered when they reached the next tree. Chase nodded, though he didn’t need to be told: there was no mistaking the noise, and he’d caught glimpses of two enormous animals battling in the brush. Zach took a quick look, then turned back to Chase.

  “There’s a big stump just ahead,” he whispered. “Let’s get to it and watch from there.”

  Without waiting for a response, Zach rounded the tree and disappeared. Chase hesitated only a second, then went after him. Zach was already perched behind the stump; Chase slid in beside him, then scrambled onto his knees.

  The animals were allosaurs, and Chase was instantly staggered by the savagery of the fight. The dinosaurs were locked together like gigantic fighting cats, a noisy, frenzied mass of slashing jaws and claws, muscular tails snapping over the dirt and rocks and uprooted vegetation. A mist of blood hung in the air.

  “Jeez, Louise …”

  Chase heard the voice before he realized it was his. The dinosaurs were slashing and gashing, kicking and ripping, roaring and growling and snarling in a squall of red-hot fury.

  One of the allosaurs stumbled and the other was instantly upon it. The dinosaur didn’t bite, but slashed down with sharp, serrated teeth, raking them savagely through the other’s flesh, inflicting a terrible, ragged wound. The wounded allosaur bellowed, but then was back on its feet, a raging mass of fury.

  Chase was awestruck. The fight was so savage, so violent, he couldn’t believe either animal could withstand it. His heart was pounding, partly in fear, partly with excitement: he was watching something no one else had ever seen.

  The fight had been raging for several minutes now, though neither animal seemed to be tiring. One would occasionally slip, or trip, and the other would instantly be upon it, snapping, clawing, slashing, ripping, kicking up clouds of dirt and debris as it fought for an advantage. But the other would be right up again, attacking with renewed intensity.

  No wonder every other animal’s running for its life, Chase thought. Nothing in its right mind would want to get caught in the middle of that.

  Then: But here we are, as close we can get!

  The fight raged on, the allosaurs slashing and ripping at one another again and again, striking with their terrible teeth and claws and inflicting ugly, ragged wounds. Both animals were terribly wounded, gashed and bloody, but neither showed any sign of giving up.

  One of the animals abruptly slipped and went down, and the other was instantly upon it, snapping at the other’s neck. But the fallen animal was fast. It turned, twisted, and regained its feet. With a terrible roar it charged the other allosaur, smashing into it with the power of a locomotive. The second dinosaur buckled and fell, rolling onto its back before twisting like a cat to regain its feet.

  A powerful tail lashed the brush above the boys. An instant later one of the allosaurs stumbled. The second animal slammed into it, knocking it into the brush. A tail ripped through the air, followed by a clawed foot that crashed into the dirt just in front of Chase. It was so close he could have reached out and touched it.

  JEEZ, LOUISE, Chase thought again, his heart hammering. That was close!

  He felt a nudge and looked over: Zach gestured and mouthed: We’d better get out of here!

  Chase nodded. He took a final look at the raging predators, then began backing away, keeping low to the ground. The boys crawled until they reached the first tree, then hopped to their feet. Then, moving from tree to tree, they backed away until they were a safe distance from the battling dinosaurs.

  “I can’t believe we just saw that!” Zach gushed.

  “I know, right?” Chase agreed. “I mean, wow! You see two dinosaurs fight in a movie and it’s pretty cool. But that’s nothing compared to the real thing!”

  His face was flushed, partly with excitement, partly with adrenalin, partly from the thrill of having just done something insanely risky and dangerous.

  “What do you think they were fighting about?” he asked as they turned in the direction of Zach’s camp.

  “Who knows? One might have invaded the other’s territory. Or maybe they were males, fighting over a female.”

  Chase felt a chill that went all the way through his bones. He knew that when animals fought over mates, the female was usually close by. He’d once seen two rattlesnakes fighting—wrapped together like a creepy, buzzing rope—and spotted the female hiding beneath a rock just a few feet away.

  “Holy cow,” he said, realizing they’d been in even more danger than he’d thought. “You think there was another one? Maybe waiting for a winner?”

  Zach nodded grimly. “There’s a good chance.”

  Chase shuddered, and not because he was cold. He knew that among predators, females were often bigger and more ferocious than males.

  “Jeez, Louise …”

  ZACH’S CAMP, WHEN they reached it, was even less impressive than Chase imagined.

 
There’s really nothing here, Chase thought, trying to mask his disappointment.

  There were a few scattered ashes where Zach had built a fire. And yeah, there was a stream with fresh water nearby. But other than that—

  “Where do you sleep?” Chase asked.

  Zach pointed. “See the big rock? There’s another just behind it. With just a tiny little space between them.” He held up his thumb and forefinger about a quarter inch apart to demonstrate just how little and just how tiny. “I just crawl into that. It’s not much, and it's not comfortable, but nothing bigger than a rat can get to me.”

  Chase didn’t like the sound of rats, but supposed that as long as a ceratosaur couldn’t get in, it was probably good enough.

  “How’d you manage to start a fire?” he asked.

  Zach made a rude sound. “Fires are easy. Well, the first time was a bugger, but now I can do it”—he snapped his fingers—“like that.”

  Chase was patient. “How?”

  Zach fished a knife from his pocket, presenting it as reverently as King Arthur displaying Excalibur. Then he glanced around, walked a few feet away, and picked up a gray rock. Holding the rock out with one hand, he took the unopened knife and rapped the back of the blade across the rock.

  A dozen sparks rained to the ground.

  “Voila!”

  “Huh.” Chase couldn’t help being impressed. He took the Swiss Army knife from his own pocket, knocked it against the rock, and instantly produced a shower of sparks.

  “See? It’s easy.”

  “Huh,” Chase said again. “That’s sweet.”

  He remembered Zach saying the first time had been more difficult. “What happened?”

  “Well, I didn’t know these rocks were flint …”

  “So what did you do?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me …”

  “Try me.”

  Zach scrunched his nose, then walked back to the rocks where he spent the night. He disappeared for a moment, then reappeared with a small, clear, sandwich bag.

  “From my last peanut butter sandwich. The last ordinary food I’ve had since … well for several days now.”

  He nodded.

  “Follow me.”

  Zach led the way back to the stream. Once there, he took the bag and half-filled it with water. Then—twisting the top—he squeezed until the water bulged against the plastic, forming a bulb like a small water balloon. He held it up for Chase to see.

  “Yeah? So?”

  “Hold out your hand.”

  Chase did, expecting Zach to hand him the bag. But instead of giving it to him, Zach held it over Chase’s hand, glanced up at the sun, adjusted it a little—

  “Ow!”

  Chase jumped back like he’d been burned. He fanned his hand in the air, then glared at Zach.

  “What did you just do?”

  Zach grinned, then knelt and held the bag over a dry leaf on the ground. Chase could see a spot of sunlight on the leaf, which shrank and tightened as Zach focused the beam. Almost instantly a wisp of smoke began curling into the air.

  “It’s like a magnifying glass,” Zach explained. “And when the sun’s out, it focuses the rays. And fires burn like crazy here.”

  Chase couldn’t believe it.

  “How in the world did you know how to do that?”

  “Scout camp.”

  Oh, yeah, Chase thought, remembering. He’d only been to camp once, but knew it was the best place in the world for learning crazy stuff.

  “So,” he asked. “You got anything to eat?”

  “I did. Had a nice fish until those goobers flew down and stole it!”

  He glanced up with a sour expression, and Chase knew any dinobird that suddenly came flapping out of the sky was taking its life in its hands.

  Zach shook his head, then sighed and said: “Come on. Let’s go catch a couple more.”

  13 Prehistoric Bath

  ZACH HAD A knack for spearing fish, spiking four from beneath the streambank in just a couple of minutes. The fish looked like bluegill—skinny as a pencil, but ten inches long and seven inches high.

  “They taste good?” Chase asked as they hiked back to camp.

  “Compared to what?” Zach stepped past a crumbling pile of dino dung on the trail. “Not as tasty as a bacon cheeseburger—which I could totally go for right now—but a lot better than dinosaur steak.”

  Zach built a fire with his sandwich bag just to prove he could, and the boys soon had the fish roasting over a crackling fire.

  “WELL,” ZACH SAID a little later. He chewed on a piece of fish. “What now?”

  “Dunno,” Chase said. The fish were just a tiny bit charred which, he thought, actually added to the flavor, which wasn’t bad. “But here’s the way I see it. First, when we don’t show up—you know, back home—your dad’s gonna send in another rescue team.”

  “ ’Course he will,” Zach said. He picked a tiny fish bone from his teeth. “He doesn’t and Mom’ll shoot ’im.”

  “Only thing is,” Chase went on, “it might be, like, a week before that happens.”

  He looked up and around, frowning at a sudden thought.

  “And they’ll probably go right back to the same landing site—”

  “Which has been nothing but trouble for everyone.”

  “Right.” Chase scrunched his nose, thinking it over, then shook it off. “I don’t know how to warn ’em off, but we’ve got a couple of days to think about it. Don’t want anyone else going through what we did.”

  Something else occurred to him.

  “Speaking of which, how’ll we know when they get here? I mean, we flew around a little, hoping you’d hear the jet, but you obviously didn’t.”

  “Actually, I did,” Zach said. “I didn’t hear the jet, but I heard the boom when you came through the barrier: it’s pretty loud and the sky lights up. You don’t see and hear it from inside the plane so I didn’t know what it was, but now that I do I’ll recognize it.”

  “Okay, good. That was going to be my second point.”

  “What’s number three?”

  “I’m almost certain someone’s still out there. If they are, they’ve got weapons, which might come in handy. Thing is, how we gonna find ’em?”

  “Maybe we don’t need to. Maybe they’re out looking for us.”

  “Yeah, I thought of that. But they might not think I’m alive. I mean, those ceratosaurs were wicked, and I was only an inch from being torn to pieces. In their place, I wouldn’t believe some kid without a gun could’ve gotten away.”

  “But they might still be looking for me—”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, but they’re not convinced you’re still alive, either. They were telling me the chances of finding you were pretty slim—”

  “What?”

  “—they were just trying to prepare me for the worst—”

  “But—"

  “Zach, think about it. You’ve been lucky. I’ve been lucky … I mean the chances of either one of us still being alive are next to nothing.” And then in a more serious tone: “And considering what’s out there—and what we’re up against—the chances of us lasting until the rescue plane shows up aren’t all that good.”

  Zach’s mouth was hanging open in the most discouraged, crestfallen look Chase had ever seen.

  “Hey, just keeping it real,” Chase said lamely.

  Zach still looked stunned, and Chase felt bad for having bummed him out.

  “Hey, look,” he said. “We came here to find you. This whole mission was about you.” And then, a little more softly. “And remember, a buncha guys actually died … you know, trying to find you.”

  Zach stared at a piece of charred fish in his hands. He looked like he’d lost his appetite, but after a moment placed the fish in his mouth and began to chew. “You really know how to ruin a party, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, well, tell you what we can do for fun …”

  “What’s that?”

  “F
ind a couple of allosaur teeth. Or zachiosaur teeth. Or something like that.”

  “Why?”

  Chase grinned. “Think about it. Back home, lots of people have fossilized dinosaur teeth. You can buy ’em on the internet. But we’d be able to say, ‘Ours are new.’ ”

  Zach nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that gives us something to do tomorrow …”

  AFTER FINISHING THE fish, Chase walked back to the stream. He checked to be sure no one was watching … and instantly felt stupid, knowing there wouldn’t be people around for another 165 million years. Still chiding himself, he untied his boots—

  Sure glad they gave these to me: I’d be lost in tennis shoes.

  —then stripped off his clothes. The blood-soaked camos had become stiff, and gross, and smelly. Aside from the fact a hungry predator might zero in on the scent, he was creeped out by the remains of the exploded ceratosaur, which had crusted into the fabric.

  He picked his way across the rocks to the stream, then knelt on the bank and washed his clothes. The shirt was especially filthy—he’d crawled in the dirt while the blood was still fresh—and it took several cycles of soaking and scrubbing before he decided it was as clean as it was going to get.

  He wrung everything out as best he could, then draped it all over warm rocks in the sun.

  It’s warm enough everything ought to dry out pretty fast, he thought. And if it doesn’t, I’ll just wear it damp for a while.

  He was going to sit and bask in the sun while he waited for his clothes to dry, but then reasoned it was silly to have clean clothes when he, himself, was still filthy and disgusting. With a sigh, he walked back to the stream. He’d had his hands in the water for several minutes, but tested it anyway.

  Pretty cold!

  He hesitated, then took a deep breath and eased himself into the nearest pool. The chilly water took his breath away, but he forced himself all the way in. He began rubbing his arms, and legs, and face, and then even scooped handfuls of mud from the stream bottom to rub over his skin before washing it away. He didn’t know if that made him any cleaner, but it somehow seemed better than doing nothing.

  He dunked himself a couple of times to wash his hair—gasping for breath each time he came up out of the water—and figured he was finally clean enough for polite company.