Time Crunch Read online

  The dinosaur was fighting to reach him, bending and breaking the springy pine boughs, but was kept back by the dense growth. It snarled in frustration, snorting and howling and yowling furiously.

  Chase swung around the tree to the other side, keeping the trunk between him and the enraged dinosaur. He kept climbing, increasing his distance above the snarling beast.

  Don’t … think … it can get me here, he thought, huffing for breath. The high, uppermost branches were even more densely packed—harder to squeeze through—and not as a strong as the thicker ones below.

  They won’t support its weight … and even if they could, there’s no way it can get through them.

  But the dinosaur wasn’t giving up. It thrashed crazily through the lowermost branches, desperately seeking a way up the tree, snapping its jaws and snarling in frustration. But it was trying to climb up the ends of the limbs, where they were thinnest and most springy. And every time it leaped or lunged, the branches bent beneath its weight, dumping it back to the ground.

  Chase watched, terrified, but fairly certain he was safe for the moment.

  But how am I gonna get out of here? he wondered. How long’s that thing gonna stick around?

  THERE WAS A cry, and a second spike lizard came rushing through the trees. The animal needed a moment to figure out what was going on. But once it spotted Chase it began spitting and snarling, trying to climb the springy pine with the same determination as its companion.

  As long as they keep trying to climb the ends of the branches, I oughtta be okay, Chase thought.

  He looked around, wondering what had happened to Zach. Wondering if he was okay.

  Ohhhh, he’s gonna be mad, he thought grimly. Even after I give him his tooth—

  With a start, Chase realized he’d forgotten all about the second allosaur tooth. He’d been holding it tight, but he’d needed both hands to climb the tree …

  He looked down through the branches, trying to see the ground. He didn’t remember dropping it, but knew he must have. He checked his pocket—just one tooth there—and tried again to see the ground.

  Too many branches!

  He shook his head.

  It’s gotta be down there, though.

  He was sure he didn’t drop it while he was running—

  I couldn’t be that stupid!

  —and even though he didn’t remember doing it, he figured he must have dropped it when he started climbing the tree.

  Of all the stupid things to do, he thought. Risk my life and Zach’s … and then just drop the thing like a hot potato!

  He sighed, then glanced again at the snapping, spitting spike lizards. They’d quit trying to climb the tree—

  Ah, we’re learning, are we?

  —and were circling the circumference, glaring up at Chase and growling angrily.

  Trying to figure a way to get up here …

  Chase sighed again, thinking he was in for a long afternoon—and perhaps a long night—when the dinosaurs stopped circling. They stared intently into the forest, no longer snarling, though Chase could hear rumbles from the creatures’ chests.

  Growling, he thought. Not to frighten something, but because they’re frightened of something …

  The anxious growls deepened in intensity, then the two dinosaurs turned and slunk away, slowly vanishing into the woods. Chase realized they weren’t crashing mindlessly through the brush like before, but were attempting to sneak away without notice.

  Chase knew he should have been relieved. But he couldn’t help thinking: What the crap scared ’em away?

  HE DIDN’T HAVE long to wonder.

  There was a crunch from the trees. Chase stared hard, trying to see. At first there was nothing, but then the branches parted and the immense red dinosaur crept into view.

  Chase held his breath.

  If it’s here, does that mean Zach got away?

  Or did it get Zach and decide it wants more?

  Fear squeezed his heart like an icy hand as the dinosaur advanced through the forest. He wanted to climb higher, but was already as high as he could go.

  And the second I move, it’s gonna see me …

  It was stupid, but he couldn’t help remembering a cartoon he’d once seen. Two polar bears were standing over an igloo. As a terrified Eskimo cowered inside, one bear said to the other: “Crunchy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside …”

  It seemed funny at the time—Chase had even taped the cartoon inside his school locker—but suddenly wasn’t funny anymore.

  The red dinosaur kept coming, stepping softly as if stalking something—hunting something—trying to be stealthy. Chase remembered the dinosaur he and Zach had seen while cowering under the roots of the tree. The red dinosaur was walking the same way—placing each foot gently in front of the other—able to move through the trees and brush with as little disturbance as possible.

  Might be the same one, Chase thought. Or one of its sisters …

  The dinosaur was heading for Chase’s tree. It hadn’t yet looked up, and Chase wasn’t sure if it could smell him—or sense him—or if it was homing in on the spot the spike lizards had been.

  Maybe wondering what the fuss was all about …

  Chase remained perfectly still. The red dinosaur was walking with its head low to the ground—the thick tail stretched up into the air—but Chase knew that if it stood erect it would be tall enough to peer into second-story windows.

  He glanced down without moving his head. He guessed he was five or six feet higher in the tree than the dinosaur was tall.

  But it’s big enough that if it wants me, it’ll get me … even if it has to knock down the tree!

  The dinosaur came closer, its head pointing straight ahead, but Chase could see the nearest eye flicking back and forth, searching the forest, taking everything in.

  Chase realized he was holding his breath, but he finally exhaled as slowly as he could, then carefully breathed in through his nose. A rank, sour odor filled the air, and he realized the dinosaur was so close he could smell it.

  The same sickly sweet smell of rotting meat, he thought.

  The dinosaur looked up, and Chase saw the eye peering at him. He didn’t know if it could actually see him—didn’t know if it recognized him as prey—but forced himself not to move, not to breathe.

  The dinosaur lifted its head as if sniffing the air, then lowered its nose to inspect the ground. It took another step and was at the bottom of the tree. It pushed its nose into the pine boughs and seemed to know this was the spot the spike lizards had been.

  The dinosaur began circling the tree, sniffing the ground, trying to understand what had happened there. Every few seconds it lifted its head for a look around, never so involved with its investigation that it lost its awareness of the forest.

  After circuiting the tree, the dinosaur turned, lifted its tail, and flushed itself on the lowermost branches.

  Like a wolf, Chase thought, mesmerized, marking its territory.

  The dinosaur turned again, and though its head was still low to the ground, Chase saw the eye flick toward him.

  Saw it look at him.

  Felt it was looking through him.

  The animal didn’t move for several seconds, and Chase’s lungs burned as he held his breath. He didn’t know if the dinosaur actually saw him, or if it simply didn’t care.

  Maybe doesn’t think I’m worth its time …

  The moment stretched into a minute, and then several. And then the dinosaur turned in the direction of the rotting allosaur carcass. It moved away as silently as it had come, soon vanishing into the trees.

  Chase remained still.

  Didn’t move for several minutes.

  Watched the forest with his eyes—like dilophosaurs—without turning his head.

  Chase wasn’t sure how long he remained there. But even after he was certain the dinosaur was gone, he was reluctant to climb down from the tree.

  Knowing that once he was back on the ground, tha
t he was vulnerable again.

  He looked carefully around, then looked again, assuring himself there wasn’t anything hiding nearby. He weighed his options.

  Can’t just stay here, he thought.

  He glanced into the sky, judging the position of the sun.

  And if I don’t get moving, it’s gonna get dark.

  He began easing his way down from the tree.

  As frightening as the forest was, it was gonna get a lot worse once the sun went down …

  18 Stealth Approach

  AS SOON AS he was back on the ground, Chase rooted through the brush beneath the tree. After nearly a minute, he found the missing allosaur tooth—

  Yuck! Wouldn’t you know it?

  —in a puddle of fresh dinosaur urine.

  He wiped it off on his pants, then dropped it into his pocket—

  Have to give that one to Zach …

  —and began hiking toward Zach’s campsite.

  He kicked himself again and again as he hiked, knowing how stupid it was risking both their lives for a couple of freakin’ teeth.

  What was I thinkin’?

  All he could do was hope Zach, too, managed to get away.

  If I could make one wish, he thought. Just one wish … it would be to get back to camp and find Zach cooking up a bunch of fish over a flint-and-steel fire.

  He shook his head.

  Man!

  As goofy as Zach was, he was still Chase’s best friend. The best friend he’d ever had.

  Probably the best friend I’ll ever have!

  And after all the adventures they’d shared, all the terrifying experiences they’d been through, they’d developed a bond that surpassed mere friendship.

  Chase had never had a brother, but even if he had, he couldn’t imagine being any closer than he was to Zach.

  Jeez, listen to me, he thought. I sound like a soap opera …

  HE STOPPED ONCE or twice when he heard other animals in the forest. But he made good time and eventually stepped out of the trees near the stream.

  Almost there, he thought, staring in the direction of the campsite.

  He almost didn’t want to go on.

  Afraid of getting there and finding it … empty.

  He set his teeth and started down the trail. He’d only gone a few feet when … tap!

  Chase froze, listening hard. After a moment, the sound came again.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  It was the sound of a knife blade striking flint.

  Zach!

  Unable to control himself, Chase bolted down the trail, running as fast as he could, blasting from the trees like a hungry see-low after a Callovian rabbit.

  Zach’s head snapped up in surprise, so startled he dropped his knife and flint and fell back on his butt. His hands and feet were on autopilot and he’d crab-walked half the distance to the rocks before his brain kicked in and he realized he wasn’t about to be eaten alive.

  “Holy freakin’ Hanna malaria!” he shouted without thinking.

  He dropped back in the dirt and clamped a hand over his chest.

  “Oh, man,” he said, as Chase rushed over and helped him up. He and Chase looked one another over, up and down and back and forth, searching for holes or scratches or missing body parts, then hugged one another as tightly as they’d done the day before.

  Chase was too emotional to speak, but after a moment Zach found his voice.

  “Oh, man,” he repeated. “You’ve got to stop jumping out at me like that!”

  “YOU KNOW, I really was hoping I’d never have to do this again,” Zach complained later as the boys once again wiggled into the rocks to spend the night.

  The boys had exchanged stories (Zach escaped by diving behind an immense log mere seconds before the red dinosaur raced past), fried a few fish for dinner, admired their newly acquired allosaur souvenirs, and eventually crawled back into the rocks.

  “Yeah, well, better this than to be slowly digesting inside some dinosaur.” Chase thought of something. “What was that big red one? You have any idea?”

  “That, my friend, was a zachiosaur: hate those things! Like I said, it might actually be a siats … or a saurophaganax, or a lythronax, or maybe even a carcharondontosaur—who knows for sure?—but it’s what’s been tormenting me as long as I’ve been here.”

  “They say allosaurs are supposed to be the apex predators here. But they’re sure wrong about that.”

  “No kidding. But a hundred years of digging up bones can’t tell you half of what you learn in a single day of actually poking around.”

  Zach blew out his breath.

  “So, we’ve tried three different times to find your friends. You ready to give up yet?”

  “We can’t give up. Our only chance is to hook up with them.” He shrugged. “Besides, they have guns.”

  “Oh, yeah.” And then: “I wonder why we never hear gunshots. I mean, after that one.”

  “Might be there’s nothing scary enough to shoot at over there.”

  “Well in that case, let’s go! First thing in the morning!”

  “FOURTH TIME,” Zach said as they started out the next day. “I’m getting the feeling someone doesn’t want us going out there.”

  Chase didn’t respond right away. There was a time when Zach whined enough to be annoying, but Chase knew he wasn’t whining now.

  Not really … this time he’s just making an observation.

  But: “You don’t wanna eat anything before we go? Maybe catch a couple fish?”

  Zach faked a shudder. “You know how you are what you eat? I think I’m growing fins and gills.”

  “You do and I’ll mount you on the wall. Right above the fireplace.”

  “Yuk, yuk.”

  Chase noticed that Zach was clutching his allosaur tooth as he set off through the woods. He grinned.

  He’s just as excited about it as I am.

  He patted his pocket, just to be sure his was still safely tucked away: he’d held onto it all night as he slept.

  WHEN THEY REACHED the sauropod highway, they crouched in the trees and spent several minutes watching for signs of danger. They’d taken a different route to avoid the rotting allosaur (along with whatever might be feeding on it). There didn’t seem to be anything scary lurking about, though a family of medium-sized sauropods was plodding along in search of greens.

  “So what are those things?” Chase asked. The animals had the classic sauropod shape: long neck, long tail, and thick legs. But they had different coloring than apatosaurs. They were an extremely pale shade of green—almost yellow in places—with dark stripes. And their heads were block shaped, like big green boxes.

  “Not sure,” Zach said. “You’ve probably noticed, but nothing really looks like their pictures. So I don’t know, but they might be camarasaurs.”

  “Don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”

  “The fossils are pretty common. And they’ve got those boxy heads. So if I had to bet, I’d say yeah … camarasaurs.”

  The camarasaurs were plodding amiably along, taking an occasional nip from a tree, going about their normal dino business.

  “Well, everything looks okay,” Chase finally said, standing. “Make a run for it?”

  “All right. On three: one …”

  Without waiting for “two” or “three,” Zach began sprinting across the swath.

  Chase blinked, annoyed that he’d fallen for that one, then tried to beat his friend to the other side. But Zach had enough of a head start that he beat Chase with time to spare.

  “Cheater,” Chase puffed, winded by the brief run. “Get you next time.”

  “That’s what the allosaur said …”

  “Yuk, yuk,” Chase replied, mimicking Zach’s favorite response.

  They hiked along, watching the forest, keeping an eye out for fire ferns, determined to actually make it to the rocky hills this time.

  “Hey, check it out,” Zach said after a while. He pointed above the trees. “The ptero
saurs are back.”

  Chase looked. Sure enough, a dozen or so pterosaurs were circling the hills. As far as he could tell, they were pretty much in the place he and Zach expected to find whomever was left of the expedition.

  “I wonder if that’s good news or bad news,” he said.

  “It probably means there’s something there,” Zach surmised. “Something or someone.”

  Chase felt a chill, remembering another encounter he’d had with weird, dactyl-like things. He wasn’t sure these were the same thing—still too far away to tell—but the last ones were freakin’ nasty.

  “There’s gotta be a reason they’re up there,” he said. “They want something, obviously, and there’s a reason they’re just flying around instead of dropping out of the sky to get it.”

  “Might be your friends, then. Only”—Zach looked around, checking the trees—“if the dinobirds are interested in the place, other things might be, too.”

  “So we need to be extra careful.”

  “You said it.”

  THEY BEGAN PICKING their way even more carefully through the forest. The thick woods somehow seemed more ominous—more oppressive—knowing they were closing in on … something. They were thinking—hoping—it was men from the expedition. But that was only a guess. Whatever was up there could have been … something else.

  Chase had never hunted, but had a vague idea of what it must be like stalking the woods in search of game.

  But to know you’re the prey …

  It was a creepy sensation. Especially knowing that any mistake could cost him his life.

  Yeah, screw up a play in football and you might lose a game.

  Screw up on a math test and you might get a B or a C on your report card.

  He glanced through the brush—looking hard—searching for anything out of place.

  But screw up out here and some dinosaur’s gonna be picking what’s left of your bones out of its teeth.

  He felt a chill.

  There was something especially terrifying about the idea of actually being … eaten … by something.

  They were getting closer to the circling pterosaurs, and Zach adjusted his course, using the cover of thick tree trunks to keep from being spotted from above. Chase followed, darting from one trunk to the next—always keeping an eye on the woods around him—reaching out with the Force, his “Spidey” senses, and anything else that might alert him to danger.