“What we do with no light?” Svet said.
“We crawl if we have to,” Max said.
“Da,” she said. “I remember such a thing when I was on missile duty.”
Hawk and Max looked at each other with squinted eyes.
“You know. The rockets that will get New York, Los Angeles. I used to man a silo, and every few days the power would cut out and I’d sit in the pitch-black for hours, hoping command wasn’t trying to contact me.”
“How is that possible?” Max said. “Typically those systems have redundant power.”
“It no work.”
“Did you have fire control during the outage? Did the outages affect the entire system?” Hawk asked.
Svet laughed and didn’t respond.
They were millions of years in the past with no hope of getting home, but national security was national security.
An hour passed and the second torch went out. Hawk halted. This time when he blew on the orange embers nothing happened. “Should we try and go on in the dark? Save our light?” Hawk asked.
“How would we light a new one if we had to?” Max said.
“Da.”
“Good point. Using the knife to spark a flame might take a while. Give me another torch,” Hawk said.
Max rummaged through his bag and drew out another torch and unwrapped the leaf that protected the tar-covered tip. He pressed the head of the old torch to the new, and black smoke filled the passage, but the new torch didn’t catch. Hawk blew harder, the smoke stinging his eyes and throat.
The new torch blazed and Hawk jumped backward into Svet and they both fell to the ground in a tangle.
The new light revealed a giant centipede. It was ten feet long and a foot around, and had two large antennae atop its head. Red eyes scanned right and left as the giant arthropod wiggled down the wall onto the floor. It squealed, a low pitched wail that rose in strength. Another centipede appeared on the wall above the first.
“Umm,” Max said. “I think we should go.”
Two more of the slippery creatures snaked into view and joined their friends. The creature’s legs twitched in an odd wave-like pattern as it rolled along. It looked like the wall moved, as the centipedes came at them, unintimidated by the torchlight. They were white, except for the pinpricks of red that were their eyes, and the dark red tips of their fangs.
“We should go,” Max said again. “Don’t want to let them get those teeth into you.”
“They’re bugs. Big bugs, but just bugs,” Hawk said.
“They’re not just big bugs. Centipedes are predominantly carnivorous,” Max said. “They are known to be highly venomous, and often inject paralyzing venom.”
One of the beasts reared-up and spat at them. The venom missed, but it kickstarted Hawk’s engine and he ran into the darkness of the lava tube.
Between pulling breaths Max said, “Funny fact. Centipedes can have a varying number of legs, ranging from thirty to three hundred fifty-four, but they always have an odd number of pairs of legs. So no centipede has exactly a hundred legs.”
Hawk didn’t think it was funny at all.
Svet tripped over a stone and went down hard, the thud of bone hitting rock making Hawk flinch in the darkness. The scuttling of a million feet clicking and tapping on stone was getting closer, and soon the party would be overtaken. Max helped Svet up. The woman was a machine.
Hawk puffed in and out, losing his breath. “Max,” he said. “Can you get the last torch out while you run?”
“I’ll try.”
Snapping and drumming and scurrying echoed through the cave, a million crabs coming for dinner.
“Here,” Max said. He thrust the torch toward Hawk who grabbed it, lit it with his torch, and handed his to Max.
“Keep going. Don’t wait for me, no matter what,” Hawk said.
“Nyet,” Svet said.
“Go. Go now. I’ll be right behind you.”
Hawk skidded to a stop and rubbed the end of his torch on the cave wall. Tar came off on the stone and set the cave wall ablaze. He did this until there was no tar left on the torch and a ribbon of fire circled the tunnel.
Hawk caught up with his friends, and they ran by the light of the last torch. The lava tube ahead filled with gray light, and for an instant euphoria pulsed through Hawk. He broke into a trot. Max held the flickering torch up high like an Olympic runner. A circle of light appeared ahead, the tunnel turning upward on a thirty-degree incline.
Hawk slowed as he approached the light, his astronaut trained mind screaming for caution. The cave walls were filled with moss and flowers. Light darted through cracks in the ceiling, and as Hawk inched from the tunnel he took a deep breath of air.
“Der’mo,” Svet said.
The party stood on an outcrop of stone overlooking a valley enclosed on all four sides by the curved stone walls of an ancient lava bubble. Tropical vegetation and trees grew within the bowl of the basin, and sunlight streamed through a large opening formed by the collapsed mountainside.
“What is that?” Svet said, pointing.
In the center of the jungle below, a giant white dragon rested atop a nest of dead vegetation and branches, its giant wings folded at its side, head resting on three large eggs.
16
Hawk paced across the precipice, stopping every other lap to stare into the cave mouth. There were no signs of their pursuers, but based on what he’d seen when he’d lit the first torch, there was only one way to go.
“We try and sneak around?” Max said.
“Da.”
Hawk smiled. Andrea could read his mind also. It was uncanny. He’d be floating around in space, thinking of something that needed to be done around the house, and he’d get a message from her that it had been handled. Or when sadness would wash over him because of their separation, and he’d get an unexpected message or find a support note she’d hidden. This was proof there were paranormal abnormalities that science couldn’t explain. Hawk and Andrea were connected by an unseen tether that stretched thousands of miles, but it couldn’t cross time.
The dragon slept on the valley floor, and nothing stirred in the jungle.
“What do you make of that, Max? Looks straight out of Game of Thrones,” Hawk said.
Max stared at him with a vacant expression, eyes wide, mouth open a crack.
“A dragon. You know of dragons in Germany, ja?” Hawk said.
Svet shook her head.
“It is most certainly a species of pterosaur, which the adventure writers of the day refer to as a pterodactyl,” Max said. “There are fossil records of these beasts with forty-foot wingspans, so the size of this beast is no surprise. What is odd is the creature’s head. If you noticed when we’ve met these congenial creatures in the past—” Max paused to allow for laughs, and when none came, he continued. “You’ll remember the pterosaurs we’ve seen so far have thin torsos with stunted front arms, and an elongated skull and jaw. Our friend below looks more like a flying T-Rex, with its thick midsection, clawed appendages, and bird-like head. The spikes down its spine are truly unique, and remind me of stegosaurs or scelidosaurs. Its light pigmentation is an indication of a cave dwelling animal, like the albino centipedes.”
“So I should assume it will attack?” Hawk said.
“Most certainly.”
“Plus the babies, nyet?” Svet said.
“Ja, plus the babies, which means dad is around.”
Hawk stopped pacing. He hadn’t thought about dad. “He’s gonna be one big bitch,” he said.
“Probably off hunting,” Svet said.
Max said, “Pterosaurs can fly at speeds up to seventy-five miles-per-hour and can cover hundreds of miles in a single day. This is the perfect nesting area. Secluded and unreachable by the larger predators. These monsters have probably called this place home for a long time. Look there on the far side opposite us.”
Across the valley on the far wall two wide tunnel mouths opened into caverns twice as large
as the lava tube they’d just traversed. “At least there might be a way out, but even Svet couldn’t scale those curved walls without gear.”
“Nyet,” she said, looking up at the rockface above them.
“We’ll work our way around the outer-edge, giving the dragon as much space as possible. Stay out of sight. Run silent, and maybe we can slip by.”
Hawk was considering the dilemma of which tunnel to take when Svet said, “Which one?”
Hawk and Max said nothing.
Getting down to the valley floor proved difficult, and the party was forced to leave behind the length of rope that had gotten them out of several binds. When they got to the bottom after several minutes of difficult belaying, Hawk stared up at the rope, thinking of when Frodo and Sam had the same dilemma. Unfortunately for the spacefarers, there was no elfin word or magic in the rope that would untie the knot that held it fast to a stone.
With more than one backward glance, Hawk and his companions abandoned their rope and picked their way through the field of boulders and saw palmetto at the base of the cliff’s edge. Purple flowers bloomed in patches of heather, and small animals darted amidst the low grass covering the forest floor.
Animal trails let into the woods, and a small lake sat nestled against the cliff, a thin waterfall streaming from a crack in the stone. Rays of sunlight sparkled through water as it gushed from the mountainside.
“This would be a perfect place to call home if it wasn’t for the current residents,” Hawk said. “Protected and sheltered from the chaotic weather and predators. Fresh water, we could cultivate crops on the plain at the center.”
Svet and Max said nothing. The idea of never going home, of putting down roots in this place still too new and absurd. Hawk knew that feeling would never fully go away, and as if on cue, sorrow engulfed him and his stomach turned to ice.
He’d always wanted to put down roots, but he was a leaf. He created roots, the trunk and its branches, then separated, floating on the wind to die. He’d never have the chance to be roots. Michel was the one who used the tree analogy to explain his life. They’d discussed whether the leaf got to choose its path and concluded no part of the tree had much choice. Roots dug for water, trunks supported weight, and branches grew leaves. That’s how it always was, and always would be.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Nyet. You are right,” Svet said. “If we get out of here alive we should mark the location. Things no work out we come back.”
“And what of our friends?” Max said.
“We drive them out,” Hawk said.
To that Max had nothing to say.
The companions spent the better part of the afternoon slinking around rocks, cutting through stands of oversized ferns, and dodging insects of the crawling and flying variety. A large scorpion-like insect shot venom at them and Max screamed like a child. Hawk didn’t blame him. The thing was five inches long with a stinger that looked like it could do massive damage.
Dusk fell over the jungle as the sun moved past noon and no longer shined through the opening above. Ambient light filtered through the hole, and it was just enough.
They collected sticks to make new torches with as they went. There was no tar available, but they chose resinous branches from a tree that dripped a syrupy fluid that was like a tasteless honey. The two astronauts and one cosmonaut hunkered down for the night behind a large boulder and ate some dino-jerky and drank the last of their water. They refilled the containers from the waterfall, and bathed quietly in the clear water. As darkness fell they slept, taking turns on watch, but nothing bigger than a group of monitor-type lizards observed them, and they heard nothing from the dragon.
The next morning the party searched for fruit in the thick jungle. They found some nuts, and a tree with berries that looked like oranges with an apple-like flesh but no sweetness. It filled them up and didn’t make them sick, so they picked a bunch and stowed them for the future.
After hiking most of the morning, they reached a bare patch where there was little cover. To get to the tunnels on the opposite wall they had to work their way behind the resting dragon, which hadn’t woken or moved since they’d first seen it.
“Let’s do this fast. Go as quietly as you can, and try not to kick up any dirt. I’ll go first. When I reach the cover of those rocks on the far side follow me,” Hawk said. “Got it?”
A chorus of da and ja.
Hawk inched from his cover within a fern and headed for the pile of stones, his gaze drifting to the giant pterosaur as it rested in its nest. So it was that his attention wasn’t focused on the ground before him and he tripped over a rock and went sprawling onto the ground with a shriek.
The dragon unfurled its giant wings and flapped them hard, kicking-up a gale of dust and debris.
“Screeeee. Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” The beast’s tooth filled beak was pointed up, and it wailed and screamed as if Hawk had stolen one of its eggs.
A great shadow fell across the opening in the mountainside and daddy made an appearance.
The creature was larger than mommy, and as it descended into the valley its massive wingspan blotted out the sunlight. The beast’s leathery hide was yellow with streaks of black, and large bulbous eyes rolled and focused on him. Daddy dragon cried, an earsplitting wail that left Hawk’s ears ringing. The pterosaur filled the sky as it descended.
Hawk vaulted to his feet, arms and legs pumping as fast as they could. He considered pulling the Viking, but even if he could manage to hit the thing while running he doubted bullets would do much against this goliath. Both dragons yelled, and Hawk felt the beast was almost upon him when he dove for cover beneath a spreading fern at the edge of the clearing. He saw Svet and Max peek from their hiding place behind a stone. Smartly they hadn’t followed him.
Daddy chomped on the fern Hawk hid beneath. The top of the plant disappeared and Hawk was exposed. The beast threw the treetop aside and Hawk got up and ran, the pterosaur’s jaws chomping air where he’d stood.
He bolted into the jungle, searching for a place to hide, but there was nothing but ferns, palmetto, and trees. The beating of the dragon’s wings was like a hurricane, and the forest swayed. Leaves were torn from branches, and palm fronds rattled and stung him as he ran. Hawk wove through the trees, watching the ground. Every cut and bump he had ached. He was hungry, tired, and uncomfortable from sunburn, bug bites, and lack of sleep.
Hawk looked over his shoulder, searching for Svet and Max, but saw nothing but a giant yellow carpet coming at him with a mouth full of tiny sharp teeth.
The forest was getting thicker, and he hid behind a thick tree, peering around its girth, panting and sucking for air. The dragon had halted its pursuit, and sat atop a tree, searching the jungle. It cawed every few seconds in frustration, but finally gave up and flew back to its mate, settling beside the giant nest.
As if daddy hadn’t been fast enough, or watching close enough, mommy chirped and spat at the bigger dragon, pawing at him with her front claw and pushing him away. Hawk chuckled. Some things never change, no matter what.
Hawk waited behind the tree for several minutes, listening for his companions, but Svet and Max didn’t come. He wasn’t worried. They were most likely playing it safe, and they knew where Hawk was going, what they intended to do, so he decided to head to the caves and wait for his friends there.
The jungle was difficult to get through. The ferns and weeds were thick, and the conifer trees grew close together, their trunks forming walls that caused Hawk to travel far out of his way.
The pterosaurs had grown quiet, but he had no doubts the beasts would be on their guard. He climbed up a steep hillock that looked to be a pile of stone from the fallout that created the caves. It was covered with soil and tiny green plants with blue flowers, and to Hawk it looked like an old fashioned funeral mound.
He reached the top of the pile, but as he shifted his weight to look back the way he’d come, a rock dislodged and tumbled down the hill. Hawk
fell ass over teakettle down the side of the rock pile and landed in a mass of white sticky webbing that covered the entire area. He thrashed, trying to free himself, but the thick webbing held him fast.
A dark cloud of spiders, each the size of a man’s hand, advanced on him like a swarm of flies.
17
Hawk screamed for help. He knew it might bring unwanted attention, but he didn’t know what else to do. The spiders pressed toward him, spreading out as they circled their prey. Hawk bucked and heaved, unable to break the webbing, but the movement launched several of the arachnids into the jungle.
Hawk reached for the Viking, but couldn’t get to it. He rolled and turned, but the thick silk cordage held him fast. He struggled and pulled against the webbing, and managed to free a shoulder. He drew the Viking and squeezed off two shaky shots. The weapon turned in his sweaty hand with the force of the recoil and the gun slipped from his grasp, landing on a sticky patch of web ten feet below.
Those two ill-sighted shots saved Hawk’s life. The mass of spiders paused as one, their wet eyes rolling above sharp fangs.
“You there!”
It was Max.
Hawk’s mates appeared atop the pile of rocks he’d fallen from. Svet opened up with her Ash 12, bullets striking the webbing around Hawk. The taught lines of silk twanged and snapped and Hawk fell. Spiders flew in every direction as he plummeted, and he landed on a fern covered in webbing and rolled to the ground.
In the distance one of the dragons wailed, and the spiders scuttled into hiding like a dark wave receding from the shore.
Hawk landed atop an anthill, and within seconds small red ants were crawling all over him, biting and leaving red welts. He slapped and brushed at them as he got up, and then Svet was next to him, brushing him off and pulling strands of sticky spider web from his hair.
“Screeeeeeeeeeee.”
The dragon was close. Max joined Hawk and Svet and they slipped behind a rock and waited for the pterosaur to move on. It screeched several more times, and landed atop the pile of rocks, jaws snapping. After several minutes of prodding with its beak, but finding nothing, the beast flew off. The pounding of its wings created a gale that sent spiders, alive and dead, tumbling through the air.
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