by C K Burch
More of the dinosaurs began to stamp their limbs, shaking the ground and warning those around. Some of the larger ones began to form a circle around the smaller; longnecks began slowly pulling themselves out of the lake, shaking their feathery bodies like dogs; and the leaders of the shovelhead pack backed into a circular pack, moving the younger into the center. The largest of the longnecks trotted themselves into position before the shovelheads, placing their bodes directly in the path of the jeep.
They work together, Dust realized. Two lines of concentric longnecks circled around the shovelhead pack, prepared for these strange intruders barreling towards the herd.
Jack clutched at his shoulder. “What are you doing?” she screamed.
“What you're paying me for!” Dust replied.
Behind them, Dust saw the Venture caravan explode out from the jungle one by one, first the jeeps, then the trucks. Any moment now they'd be firing upon them again, but now Dust had the lead he wanted: at the bottom of the plain and speeding rapidly towards the dinosaur pack. In seconds, they'd be in their midst.
Jack saw what Dust was doing and she screamed.
“Hold tight!” he shouted.
A trumpet of warning broke the air as Dust swerved the jeep beneath the first of the longnecks, the jeep just barely straining under the belly of the beast. He pulled to the right as the next longneck ahead of them charged, attempting to place itself firmly before the jeep and block their path; they barely missed one of the longneck's forelegs, which came down like a pillar and actually bounced the jeep off the grass for a brief second. Behind them, Dust thought he heard gunfire, but nevermind that for now – they were coming towards the shovelheads, and those were the ones he was worried over.
Pulled together back-to-back, the shovelheads stamped their feet like bulls prepared to charge forth. Dust gauged his move: going left around the pack would bring them back towards the longnecks, with little room to maneuver. Going right gave more room, but the edge of the lake sat there, and if they were pushed into it, they'd be done for.
“Look out!” Jack cried.
Dust looked to the left and saw a longneck tail swooping down towards the jeep to bat them.
“Holy crow!” he shouted, and he hit the brakes.
The tip of the tail dragged a trail along the plain and drew a defined path. The tip wasn't what was aiming for the jeep, but the bulk above it. As Dust hit the brakes, the heft of the tail magically swept over the top of the vehicle, knicking the windshield in the process. A spindly crack formed in the glass, but that was all. Had they kept driving, they would no doubt have been thrown airborne.
Around towards the lake it was.
Everywhere came the varying cacophony of honks and barks and high-pitched snorts as the dinosaurs shouted at each other, and at the jeep. The shovelheads were wary, and began backing away from the jeep in tandem, ensuring the safety of the young in the center. A wider pathway emerged next to the lake, and Dust grinned. Perhaps this wouldn't be so harrowing after all.
One of the shovelheads bellowed and broke away from the protective pack, charging.
Damn.
Dust swerved hard to the right, coming as close to the edge of the lakewater as he dared, but the shovelhead was passionately angry, roaring defiantly as it tore up the ground in its charge as it came towards the jeep's left. Thomas took note that it was approaching his side of the vehicle and he screamed, flailing about in the rear. He grabbed at Dust's seat, he pushed backwards away from the side with his shoes firmly on the door, he held onto Cairn for dear life. Dust watched this in the rearview mirror and saw Cairn worm his way out from beneath his master's terrified motions, and he revealed the pistol, aiming it towards the beast. Dust went to shout a warning against it, but Cairn pulled the trigger first.
The shot cut through the chaos, and the bullet ricocheted off of the shovelhead's plated forehead. It was as effective as balling a wet towel and using it against a rhino. If anything, it made the shovelhead even angrier as it came towards them, and it lowered its head in the final moments of its charge. Dust, seeing this, pressed the gas pedal even further, damn the lake and damn the consequences.
But it was not fast enough, still: the shovelhead's charge connected with the rear quarter of the jeep, and the vehicle spun along the ground. Dust held onto the wheel tight, his knuckles paling, and he made an attempt to turn the tires against the momentum from the crash. He succeeded in righting the jeep after it had turned halfway around, and now they faced the shovelhead attacker instead of away from it.
Dust shifted into reverse and drove.
The shovelhead shook itself, slowed from the impact, but it roared again once it saw that the offending jeep was still in motion. It came at them once more, shaking the ground, and Dust noticed that another shovelhead had broken off from the pack and was thundering towards them as well. This was going to be very unpleasant indeed.
Jack grabbed his shoulder. “Behind us!”
Dust was already looking at what she saw: the protective ring of longnecks was tightening, pulling together so closely that the jeep would not be able to fit between their bodies. There was a span of some hundred feet between them and the longnecks, and the way through was almost entirely closed off now. And going in reverse, there was no way to outrun the oncoming shovelheads, either. Problematic.
“Cairn!” Dust called. “Shoot at their feet!”
“What?” Cairn was confused.
“The longnecks! Their feet!”
Now he understood. Cairn turned in his seat and assumed his firing position. Two reports, one after the other, and Dust saw twin tufts of earth pop up from the ground near the feet of the closest longneck. It startled, rearing high into the air in offense, and the surrounding longnecks backed away, frightened, attempting to shuffle with the reactions of their fellow. A hole opened up in the blockade, not quite large enough for relief, but it would have to do.
Dust looked down the hood of the jeep at the approaching shovelhead. It was too damn close. But, maybe he could retrieve a kiss from it for some extra speed.
“Everyone,” he shouted, “hold on damned tight!”
Cairn sat back in his seat, and as he did, Dust pulled the emergency brake and spun the jeep around. As he did, he shifted gears from reverse to drive, and once the vehicle was facing away from the oncoming shovelhead, he released the brake and hit the gas. A split second later, the shovelhead's plate collided with the rear bumper.
Rear wheels went up into the air, spinning; Dust felt himself leave his seat for a moment; everyone cried out. But the impact pushed the jeep forward far enough so that when the wheels landed once more, they sunk into the dirt with traction and they raced ahead, gaining speed away from the shovelhead. Now Dust could concentrate on the longnecks before them.
The longneck which had reared itself after the gunshots now finally came back down onto its forelegs with a thunderclap – the ground trembled and Dust felt the wheel deny his efforts to fight it. Even the shovelhead behind them fell victim to the shockwave, as it tripped and tumbled on the shuddering plain. For a brief moment, Dust wondered if the engine had cut out simply from all the quaking and banging, but then he realized that he had left his seat again, and landed once more on his bottom. Perhaps after this escapade, he would borrow Thomas' flask for a quick victory draw.
All of the longnecks broke rank, as if the quake had been a signal to stampede. Angry growls and bellows hurt their ears, and Dust drove straight ahead, unwilling to show fear. He guided the jeep beneath the closest beast, then swerved out from under its legs, and drove under the next beast to the right. This one brought its tail up into the air, a counterbalance, and Dust took advantage of this and sped out right from between the behemoth's legs.
Like a whip, the tail came down again, falling towards them, swiping through the air left and right confusingly, and Dust watched the tip. Like before, this one was coming to swipe at them, and as it finally chose to sweep right, he was prepared for it. Dust
pulled hard to the left, missing the tail entirely, but then it caught him off-guard and quickly cracked back to the left, and crashed against the right side of the jeep. They skidded along the ground like a skipped stone, hop-hop-hopping comically, until the left side of the vehicle hit the solid leg of another longneck beside them.
A head too large to be real came down, honking and blaring contempt, jaws snapping, and Dust held his breath as he held down the gas. Spinning tires thankfully held true and pushed them forward away from the ominous maw, and they made it to the clearing on the other side of the herd.
Dust sighed in relief; he looked behind them and saw that Ryder's caravan had pulled short of the dinosaurs, and were disappearing back into the jungle from whence they'd came. Now he laughed. They'd not had the stones to pull off that crazy maneuver. Lincoln Ryder had faltered in a moment of danger. Now Dust laughed as he imagined giving Ryder the horse's end of it when they collided next.
He reached back and held out his hand to Cairn. “Good shooting, kid. I'd have you at my side in a firefight anytime.”
Cairn blushed as he returned the pistol. “Thanks, guv. Right kind of you.”
Jack smacked Dust's arm. “What on earth were you thinking?!”
“First, hands to yourself while I'm driving,” Dust warned. “Second, we've just escaped murderous betrayal and we're still alive, so you're welcome there. Although the downside is that we might be falling behind in our drive to the city.”
They reached the opposite side of the plain, and Dust drove back into the jungle. Once more they were ensconced in shadow and leaves, with narrow fingers of sunlight breaching the ceiling of the trees. Surprisingly, there was a road here as well, but even more in disrepair than the previous one. He slowed down significantly to avoid potholes and fallen branches, vines and roots and crags. Now they really would fall behind.
“Behind?” Jack stretched her arms out incredulously towards the dinosaurs. Her speech became rapid. “We could have significantly altered the migration patterns of that herd! We, we could have, oh bugger, we could have dangerously altered their territorial boundaries! They might move, they might change behavior, they might put themselves in the path of predators or their natural enemies!”
“Oh, come off it, Sissie,” Thomas moaned. He withdraw his flask. “Ye gods, we almost perished!”
“But we didn't.” Dust raised his eyebrow at Jack. “You didn't seem concerned about behaviorism and territories back on the Venture. Did you think about that before we drove into this mess?”
“Between all the speculation on the gate, and Ryder's insistent claims of taking a dinosaur skin for his prize, I didn't think to engage the matter.” Jack scowled. “I wasn't exactly given the room to be heard on everything I had at my resources. Whenever it would have been pertinent to bring it up, others were generally speaking over me, but that doesn't make these things any less important now.”
Point taken.
Up ahead, the jungle closed in even further, offering zero line of sight, and no understanding of the road ahead. Dust grimaced, and slowed down so he didn't run over something that could damage the jeep even more than the beating it had already taken. Losing their ride would be the second-worst thing that could happen to them at this point, aside from running out of bullets for the only gun they had.
“Also,” Jack said defensively, “I assumed that Ryder, with his tracking and trapping experience, would understand the nature of territories and behaviors. So I didn't see fit to press the matter.” She leaned back and crossed her arms, frustrated. “I should have done better.”
“Look,” Dust replied gently. “I'm sorry I got heated. But now we're in a life or death situation. The jungle is our enemy. We're dealing with creatures that man has not dealt with in, what, hundreds of thousands of years?”
“Millions,” Jack responded. “Hundreds of millions. These creatures existed before the dawn of mankind. Which is damned confusing, as what we saw back there in the valley shouldn't have looked as they did.”
“How so? The feathers?” Dust narrowly avoided a fallen tree trunk that had claimed the road, and had to slowly push the jeep over the bulk of its narrowest side. More trees were stretched out over what he could see of the road ahead. At this rate, if he couldn't navigate the path, they'd have to abandon the jeep entirely and hope it wasn't overrun by smaller beasts in their absence.
“Evolution,” Jack stated. “These dinosaurs should have evolved over the millennia to resemble their more, how do I put it lightly, more modern cousins in the animal kingdom. The feathers here only serve to indicate that they are, in fact, ancestors of modern birds, but they haven't changed bone structure, or, or body type. Instead we have what appear to be great beasts that are as though they haven't seen the passage of time.”
“Maybe the theories of evolution are not as solid as they would like.”
“Really, Mister McAlan. The evidence for it is there, and after hundreds of millions of years – ”
“Maybe,” Thomas offered, “there is no bloody reason for it, and we should concentrate on, oh I don't know, beating Ryder to the honey of immortality!”
“Thomas!”
“Now's not the time for conjecture, dearest. Besides, evolution was a woman's notion, I believe, and you'll understand if I'm not inclined to take a woman's word for science.”
Jack began to seethe. “Charles Darwin – ”
“Quiet,” Dust commanded gently. “Problem ahead.”
He drew the jeep to a halt, slowly rolling over a root to ensure the tire wouldn't get snagged, and regarded the problem before them. While most of the trees that had fallen over the road previously had been small enough or had been splintered into enough sections to drive around, what lay across the road now was sizable enough to be the prehistoric cousin of a California Redwood. Dust had seen the redwoods plenty of times when he'd lived in Los Angeles, and while he'd been in awe of them, he'd also understood that such a mighty sentinel ever being sundered could cause quite a degree of damage on its way down. Here, now, he saw something of the image he'd had in his mind. Other trees had attempted to grow itself around the log, with warped S-shapes that wound from one side of the road to the other. The trunk was as thick as Dust was wide, and then doubled. Driving over it would be impossible. Looking around, he could see where the collapse of the giant had impacted both the road, and the forest around. Sunken earth around the log dictated that it had been there for quite some time; bits and branches strewn about and mossed over allowed for how many trees the beast had felled in its fall. As it was, the way was blocked, there seemed to be no way around it, and now they sat as dumbly as dodos. Dust stewed over the scenery, flummoxed.
Jack leaned forward, pondering. “What do we do?”
“Probably we'll have to walk from here,” Dust mused.
“Not on your life, old boy,” Thomas declared. He chuckled. “I'll not go on foot with those overgrown chickens about, you know?”
“Well, unless you can lift a solid trunk with just your bare hands, then looks like you'll be walking with the rest of us.”
“We can't go round?”
Dust held out his hands in frustration. “Seven hells, are you even looking?”
Jack pointed up towards the jungle ceiling. “What about that tree up there? Can we use the winch on it, drag the jeep over?”
Dust followed Jack's line of sight, and noticed that one of the S-shaped trees crossed over the road just above the massive log in the way. He pondered this. If the length of the cable could get up there, and then the tree itself were strong enough, perhaps – but the jeep would have to rise up to the point of the vehicle pointing vertically, which would be problematic in lowering it. But, the idea was promising enough for the moment, and he had no other options.
Dust nodded. “It's not ideal, but we might be able to make it work. Everyone out.”
Thomas leaned forward and huffed. “I believe I just said – ”
Dust whirled in his seat and g
lared.
Thomas nodded. “Right you are old son, out of the jeep, eh?”
As they clambered out of the jeep, Dust made his way to the winch and began to withdraw as much coil as he could. Gauging the height of the tree above, he figured at least twenty-five feet, which he dearly hoped that Ryder had been prepared for.
While unwinding the cable, Jack approached. “Look, I should apologize. You did save our lives. I just – I'm overwhelmed with all of this, and everything has moved so quickly already, and, I'm sorry. I'm just – I feel angry. This isn't how I imaged this would begin at all.”
“You should be angry,” Dust assured. “Hell, you should be pissed. I am. I knew Ryder would betray us, but I didn't expect it to be as soon as it was. I should have been more careful. But now we need to focus on what to do when we reach the ruins of Shambhala. Because Ryder will have a head start on searching for the Amrita, and we don't exactly have much in the way of defending ourselves.”
“He doesn't understand the city the way I do,” she replied. “At least, not what to look for in the way of signs and directions.”
Dust shook his head. “Ryder's smart, much as I hate to admit it, and he can navigate ancient cities like the best of us. I need you to be thinking two steps ahead, so that if we run into trouble you can give us some insight on how or where we should proceed.”
Jack nodded, and bit her lip, lost in thought.
Dust left her to her notions, and the cable stopped short. It had reached its limit, and so he would have to work with twenty feet or so of line. Great. Walking was quickly becoming what would be their new mode of transportation. Swinging the heft of the cable's hook back and forth, he built up momentum until he felt confident enough to send it flying high. With an underhand toss, he grimaced as the hook flew up, drifted in the air, and somehow blessedly fell just over the branch of his aim. Dangling with only a few inches of give, the hook could still yet be clipped onto the cable, and they might actually be able to get the jeep over the log. Dust grinned; this might just be his lucky day after all.
