“Understood,” the Codex replied.
Interesting. It didn’t say “yes” this time. Perhaps it was getting better at talking to him and comprehending what he meant. Now if he could get it to understand sarcasm, they might have a real conversation.
Ignoring the Codex, Cade stared at the sword, turning it over in his hands. Somehow, he had stumbled across a treasure trove. But something didn’t add up.
“Koridie Beimo … Cole D. B. Moore,” he murmured to himself.
Whoever had written down the name had garbled it, the American nomenclature too foreign for them to transcribe it correctly. Then, somehow, Moore’s body had ended up here with the swords. And Cade after him. What were the chances?
But then he had followed the blue dot, had he not? It seemed whoever, or whatever, had placed them there had made a habit of taking lost remnants from the past. The Ninth Legion. The Witchcraft. Even the Olmec head. All placed here, and left to rot?
No. They wanted the contenders to find them. Pieces in a game that Cade did not understand. A game he was going to lose if he didn’t do something soon. So, as the last light from the sun faded away, and the strange double moon appeared on the horizon, he considered his options.
He could wait until the carnosaur left, but he suspected the creature would outlast him—there was a running river for it to drink from nearby, and the carnosaur wouldn’t leave until it ate him, that seemed clear by now. So … why not let it eat him?
Well, not actually. But make it think it had.
“Codex, I want you to float over to that tree over there,” Cade said. “Try not to get the creature’s attention.”
To Cade’s surprise, the drone zoomed off, and beneath, the dinosaur swished its tail with excitement. Time to put his plan in action.
First, Cade coated himself in the oil from the swords as best he could, going beneath his uniform and rubbing the oily cloths they had been wrapped in all over. That would help mask his scent, or at least he hoped it would. The oil was not particularly pungent, though it smelled faintly of garlic for some reason.
As an added bonus, the mosquitoes that had been whining about his head seemed far less interested in him all of a sudden. He was getting used to feeling filthy, but it felt strange to be so greasy on top of all the grime.
Finally, he slowly pulled Cole’s remains from the hollow in the tree and cradled them in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Cade whispered.
Then he unleashed a wild scream and hurled the body out into the night. He had just enough time to see the carnosaur’s maw gape open in a flash of yellow pink before pressing himself into the hollow that the corpse had once occupied.
There was a snapping, rattling sound as the dinosaur whipped its desiccated meal back and forth. Cade held his breath, his heart thundering so hard that he could hear his own pulse in his ears.
If this didn’t work, he was a dead man.
CHAPTER
21
He heard it leave. Almost felt it, as if he could feel its paces through the vibrations in the tree. He wasn’t sure if it was the oil covering his smell, the soldier’s body, or just that the beast could no longer see him.
Still, he did not move a muscle for hours in case it lay in wait for him, nor did he speak to the Codex in case it heard his voice. Instead, he listened to the sounds of the night—the unfamiliar hoots, squeals and chirps of creatures he could not see or imagine.
Soon, sleep snatched at him. Time blurred as his head nodded against his chest, fits and starts of slumber that did little to relieve his exhaustion.
* * *
04:10:57:36
04:10:57:35
04:10:57:34
It was only when the sun breached the horizon that he finally allowed himself to wake, helped along by the whine of insects and a cacophony of sound that greeted the morning. He would have thought all the twittering and screeching was birds—had he not remembered that he had just seen a creature that had lived hundreds of millions of years before birds had been around.
Then again, birds were descended from dinosaurs. Birds were dinosaurs, in fact. Survivors of the great meteorite that had taken out most of their species and given other animals a chance to thrive in their place.
Cade shook his head, wincing as pain lanced through his skull. Dehydration had set in, and he had the kind of migraine that would floor most people for the day. Now he had to trek through the sweltering jungle, weak and hungry as a newborn lamb and almost as helpless. Only the sword, still strapped to his back, gave him any sort of hope. He threw the rest of them down, flinching at the clang of metal as the duffel hit the ground.
It took Cade almost an hour to slide down the tree, each movement making his head spin and leaving him clutching at the branch until the world came back into focus. He had never wanted a drink so badly.
When he reached the ground, he collapsed to his knees. It felt like an age before he had caught his breath and felt strong enough to move again.
For a moment, he examined the huge indents on the ground, like a robin’s claw prints in the snow but blown up a hundred times their size. Cade had almost convinced himself he had imagined the carnosaur, but here was the evidence, stark as a hand in front of his face.
Cade took the handles of the duffel and put his arms through them to make it a backpack, then tugged each strap over his head, crisscrossing them over his chest to make them tighter. The duffel hung over the scabbard somewhat awkwardly, but at least the tear he had pulled the sword through was small enough that none of them would fall out if he had to run.
It was heavier than he expected, and for a moment he contemplated abandoning it. But if he did manage to find the others, they could all make good use of the weapons. They were certainly better than sharpened rocks.
Reeling slightly under the weight of the swords, Cade made his way back through the trees, this time with sword in hand to defend himself. But if there were dangerous creatures around him, he didn’t see them, for it was all he could do to stay standing, his eyes set only on the ground in front of him. The edges of his vision were blurred, and his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth like a wad of dry leather, but he forced himself on. He was desperately vulnerable, and the sooner he reached the relative safety of the river, the better.
He felt a flood of relief when he found the rushing tributary once more—for a moment he had been worried he’d gone in the wrong direction. Kneeling in the shallows, he took the time to gulp great mouthfuls of water, slaking his thirst if not the hunger that cramped his belly.
It seemed that it took no time at all for his migraine and the dizziness to subside, reduced to a dull ache that was manageable and improving with every minute. For a while Cade simply stayed there, ducking his head beneath the water and letting the current wash his hair clean of the grime and sweat of the day before.
At the back of his mind, he knew that it might have been a mistake to drink the water. His brief time with the Boy Scouts, many years ago, told him that he should have boiled it first, perhaps even filtered it through a sock filled with charcoal. But boil it in what, and how? No, he’d had no choice, even if his guts might now be swimming with primordial bacteria.
Pushing the worries aside, Cade considered his options. Really, there was only one, the same as before. Continue back the way he had come, up the river until he reached where he hoped the others had succeeded in stopping the boat before the rapids.
So, with a groan, Cade staggered on. Now he remained on lookout, his eyes roving the jungle’s edge as he picked his way along the bank. At the first sign of danger, he would throw himself into the water, preferring the chance of the rushing river’s embrace to certain death inside a predator’s stomach.
The sword was heavy in his hands, its length tangling in the reeds as it drooped. Finally, he sheathed it in the scabbard on his back, knowing that if it came to fight or flight, he would likely take the latter approach. It was not an easy maneuver—the sword was too long for
him to slide in at a comfortable angle.
As the minutes ticked by, Cade’s heart began to lift at his progress. He was making good time, and so far there wasn’t a creature in sight. Surely he would find the others soon. Had the river really taken him that far beyond the rapids?
Cade was about to ask the Codex to open the map again when he heard it. The snapping of a twig, almost indistinguishable above the sound of the river. It was enough to make him stop and look across the water.
There were bushes there, interspersed with hanging lianas and low branches. For a second, Cade thought he had imagined it. But then he saw them, half-obscured by the vegetation. Yellow eyes, watching him.
He stopped, and as if the creature realized it had been seen, it lifted itself from a stooped crouch and stepped into view. Cade’s heart sank. Standing across the river … was a raptor.
But this was not the scaly, lizard-like raptor from Jurassic Park. No, this was a different creature, though no less terrifying. It stood almost as tall as the film’s animatronics, with the same basic body shape, but that was where the similarity ended.
For the creature was covered in spiny plumage, tawny as an owl’s, with the same patterning that had helped it blend with the foliage. At the end of its raised tail, a plume rose and fanned out as the creature lowered its body and hissed, and now Cade could not take his eyes off the enormous talons on each of its feet—the largest of which matched the length of a butcher’s knife and was sharp enough for the same job.
“Oh sh—”
Cade was cut short as fresh horror stole the words from his mouth. A second raptor emerged from the trees. It was a touch smaller and drabber in appearance but with the same hungry gaze that never strayed from Cade’s face.
More rustling. Another appeared. And another. Before Cade knew it, five raptors were watching him across the river, their lips drawn back as they hissed, saliva glistening on their sharp yellow teeth. A pack.
He stood still as a statue, knowing that one move could set them off. The river that flowed between them was deep, though he had reached a bend, where the current was slower and the width narrower. Could raptors even swim? Or had he lucked out?
It was at that moment that the alpha raptor opened its mouth and emitted a sound like none other Cade had heard before. It was a strange, cackling honk that reverberated through Cade’s chest and into his bones. For the briefest of moments, silence reigned, the ambient calls of the jungle quieted by the noise.
Then, before Cade could react, the creatures advanced into the river as one, splashing through the shallows and into the deeper water. Cade allowed himself a heartbeat to watch as the current drifted the raptors downriver, but it seemed in no time at all they were halfway across, if a little farther away from him.
Without a second glance, Cade sprinted into the jungle, his heart hammering in his chest, branches tearing at his clothes and hair. Soon he was running between the trees, jumping over moss-covered rocks and fallen branches. The duffel and scabbard bounced on his back, hampering him, but they held the only weapons he had, and he dared not slow to uncross the straps across his chest.
His vision was filled with a maze of trees and tangled vines, but all he could do was zigzag through them, snatching glances over his shoulder. Now, he could hear the yawping of the raptors, echoing through the trees and getting louder and louder.
Frantically, he searched for some tree to hide in, but this deep in the rain forest, he was surrounded by the huge cylindrical sequoias that he couldn’t hope to climb. So he ran onward, even as his breath burned in his chest and his legs screamed for rest. To top it all, the forest floor was thickening with low bushes, snatching at him as he tore his way through. Soon his world devolved into a mess of shoots and leaves.
Suddenly, he saw a strange tree with a broad network of thick roots around its base. They were latticed and twisted to form a barrier, but one gap was wide enough for him to squeeze through, and squeeze he did, heaving with all his might as his shoulders were trapped between the roots. He could hear the thrashing of branches behind him, and it seemed that any moment teeth would close around his legs.
He wrenched himself forward, pushing until he was deep among the root network, staring out at the trembling vegetation. He wanted to tug the sword free, but the space was too tight to do it quietly. So when the raptors finally emerged, he found himself pulling his knees up to his chest, praying that they would not see—or smell—him.
But that hope seemed to be in vain. If the pungent oil that had coated the swords had helped mask his scent from the carnosaur before, now it was a beacon to the creatures tracking him. It took but a moment for the alpha to approach, lowering its head and pushing it through the tangled roots and vines, its eyes fixed hungrily on Cade’s own.
With a hoarse caw, it thrust forward, and Cade’s vision was filled with the raptor’s pink gullet. Then the teeth crashed down just an inch from his face, and Cade whimpered as he turned his head to the side. The stench of rotting meat wafted across Cade’s nostrils as the creature snapped and thrust to get closer to him, its sides caught in the tangled vines and roots.
With every thrust from the raptor’s legs, tearing and scrabbling at the earth, the jaws inched ever closer. It wouldn’t be long before they closed around the soft flesh of his cheeks.
Cade’s hands scrambled in the dirt, hoping to find a rock, a stick, anything to defend himself with. Instead, his hand caught on his belt, the one that came with his uniform. Choking with horror, he unbuckled it and pulled it free.
As the raptor hissed and leaned back for a final lunge, Cade rammed the belt between the beast’s chops, pushing with all his might. The raptor hawked at the intrusion—gnashing down on the foreign object in its mouth and yawping in surprise when it didn’t snap in two, instead sinking into the leather.
Cade heaved, and the belt slipped over the razor teeth to sit on the gums at the back of its mouth, his fists now pressed on either side of its head. For a moment they stared each other down, eye to eye. Finally, after a brief tug of war, the raptor choked, spluttered, and withdrew. The belt dripped with saliva but remained intact, though its edges were ragged.
Cade took the brief respite to get a better grip, looping the loose ends around his wrists and knuckles. Moments later, the raptor charged again, its mouth closing around the belt once more.
Its strength was immense, the clawed feet scrabbling in the earth as it shoved. Saliva flecked Cade’s face, but he locked his elbows and held on for dear life. Again, the raptor withdrew, and Cade didn’t wait for a third attempt. Instead, he ducked his head and tugged at the sword handle with all his might, half drawing it, then using the flats of his palms to pull the blade free the rest of the way. It fell to the ground, even as the predator went for a third assault.
He seized it from the earth just in time, lifting the blade. Too high. Rather than impaling the beast, it slid across its sinuous neck before catching in a root, nearly jarring the weapon from Cade’s hands.
But it was enough to halt the beast, blood trickling down its spiny plumage as it snapped at him over the sword. Cade gritted his teeth and shoved the handle forward, levering the blade deeper across its chest. It screeched in pain and withdrew once more.
Elated with his small victory, Cade let himself hope that the raptors would leave. Instead they remained there, pacing back and forth. As the minutes ticked by, they seemed more wary, only approaching the roots and snorting at the soil. Cade could do nothing but sit in the shadows, hoping against hope that they would give up.
CHAPTER
22
They prowled outside his makeshift shelter, their yellow eyes staring hungrily at him. Another waiting game, it seemed, but this one was far more deadly. This time, Cade didn’t have another body to present them with, nor a new smell to mask his scent. Nor could he sleep, or relax. One lapse of concentration, and he was raptor food.
Hours passed, the shafts of light filtering through the roots moving in tande
m with the sun above.
The sword oil mingled with his sweat as he crouched inside the roots, watching his hunters settle down, as patient and still as alligators. By the time evening arrived, Cade realized they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
04:01:36:23
04:01:36:22
04:01:36:21
“Can you help me?” Cade asked, turning to the Codex.
“I would be happy to assist you, Cade,” the Codex replied. Its voice, though monotone, seeming to his ears more cheery than usual.
“Do you have any advice for this situation?” Cade said, trying to frame his question as specifically as possible. If he heard that damned machine repeat that “parameters too vague” line one more time, he would smash it in with a rock.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Cade,” the Codex said, following what seemed like a mono-second longer than its usual response time.
“Are you?” Cade asked, bitter. “Afraid, I mean?”
The Codex’s lens seemed to stare at him.
“No,” it said, descending closer to him. “Earlier, I detected frustration indicators in your responses to our conversations, and have adapted my articulation to accommodate. Would you prefer I revert to my prior, more literal speech patterns?”
Cade shook his head.
“Do you feel anything in that mechanical shell of yours?” he spat. “Because I do. I’m goddamned terrified.”
Great. He was treating the thing like a therapist now.
“No,” was the Codex’s simple response. “I do not.”
Cade turned away. There would be no help forthcoming from the Codex.
Instead, he searched among the root network, hoping to find some lost remnant to use to his advantage, in case the mysterious game masters had placed something there for him. But all he found was dead leaves, sticks, and soil.
The sticks were brittle and bone dry. He had tried latticing the largest of them through the roots in front of him into a barrier, but even these snapped easily enough and would make a poor deterrent if the raptors decided to attack again.
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