Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx
Page 6
Bach’uuk licked his dry lips. “Or water.”
Jake shook his head, mystified as usual by the Ur Elder’s ways.
“Well, we can’t just sit here.” Jake pointed toward the rocky pinnacles. “We should make for one of those. At least there’ll be shade. Maybe water, too.”
Jake tossed his backpack over his shoulder.
Marika remained silent, her gaze contemplative.
“What is it?” he asked.
“We’re forgetting something.” She looked at the others, then down to her wrist. “When we were given these bands, five of them were handed out.”
Jake nodded. “To the four of us and to my sister, Kady.”
“Then where is she? Where is your sister?”
Jake appreciated her concern, but he put her fears to rest. “She’s back in my own time.” He remembered Kady’s scream as the mummified grakyl grabbed his arm. Luckily she’d kept away and not been transported with him. “Don’t worry. She’s safe.”
From out of the desert, a girlish cry of terror rang out like a crash of cymbals, echoing from far away.
Okay, maybe not.
7
A PRICKLY SITUATION
Jake sprinted up the highest dune and searched the desert in the direction of the scream. The rolling sands looked like a storm-swept sea. Beyond the dunes, he again noted a strange blurriness to the horizon. But he saw no sign of his sister. As near as he could tell, the cry had come from the direction of the largest rocky peak. The pinnacle was shaped like a giant flat-topped mushroom. They could use that strange landmark to keep them on track.
“Hurry!” Jake said, and took off.
His friends raced behind him.
He bounded down the far side of the dune, half sliding in the loose sand. His fingers clutched the stone he’d picked up earlier. It was his only weapon.
Another scream echoed over to them, more angry than terrified now. Jake knew it had to be Kady.
With the sun beating down, he raced toward the mushroom-shaped rock. As he led the others, he quickly found out it was faster to run between the dunes than up and over them. The valleys offered firmer footing but also forced them to take a zigzagging path. The four of them ran in a line like a snake slithering across the blasted landscape.
Jake made tiny corrections with each cry from his sister. Finally, he skirted around a dune and discovered a bowl of sand ahead, as wide as a soccer field.
Kady danced in the middle. She had shed her pack and held her fencing sword, a wicked length of slender steel called an épée. With one arm balanced behind her and her sword facing forward, she turned in a wary circle. Her face glowed red with exertion; her lips were tight with determination. She maintained that same deadly focus during a difficult fencing match.
But who was she fighting?
The sandy bowl just held a few of those tall, cactuslike plants and nothing else.
“Kady!” Jake called to her.
She swung around, spinning like a startled cat. Her eyes locked on his, then flicked over to the others.
“Where the heck are we?” she hollered to him. “What is this place?”
Jake stepped toward her. “I don’t—”
“Stay back!” she snapped at him.
Not seeing any danger, he continued a few more steps.
Then to Kady’s left, the sand exploded. A whiplike stalk, covered in hooked spines, snapped out of the ground and swiped at her. Without even turning, she lashed out with her blade and severed it with a single swipe. The stump retreated, seeping a yellowish red ooze. Even the amputated section squiggled back into the sand and vanished.
The nearest cactus shuddered. It was shaped like a man with a single trunk and two sprouting arms. Only its head was a bulbous blood red flower. The petals opened, bent toward Kady—and hissed.
Jake stopped as if he’d hit a wall.
Since when did flowers hiss?
The cactus drew its roots out of the sand, and the entire plant crawled back from Kady.
Before she could take a step, another attacked her blind side. A pair of snaking, spiny roots shot toward her back.
“Kady!”
Jake whipped his rock, aiming for the plant’s bulblike head. The stone flew true and smacked into the crimson petals. The cactus was unharmed but surprised. The snaking roots faltered enough for Kady to duck and spin. Her sword cut through both roots. The severed stumps hit the sand and continued to squirm, digging back underground.
The cactus had clearly had enough and edged sullenly away, dragging through the sand.
“Who else wants some?” Kady growled, making a slow turn.
The other cacti lifted their roots and retreated.
“I thought so!”
She collected her bag with her free arm and headed over toward Jake, but she never let down her guard.
One of the plants made a halfhearted swipe at her, but it didn’t even come close. It was more like the cactus was waving her off, or maybe flipping her the bird. Either way, the plants were letting her go.
Kady quickly joined Jake and pointed her sword at the battlefield. “Okay, who wants to explain all of this?”
Before Jake could even begin, a piercing screech cut through the hot air, sounding hungry and distinctly saurian. Jake knew there were as many dinosaurs in desert climates as in any other. Worst of all, harsh terrains forged the fiercest predators.
Across the sands, other cries joined the first one.
A pack.
Jake stared back at his group’s footprints trampled in the sand. The cries were coming from that direction. Something had found their scent, locked onto their trail.
“We’re being hunted!” he shouted, and pointed across the sand. “Get to higher ground!”
As a group, they fled away from the sandy bowl and toward the mushroomlike pinnacle. It still lay another three hundred yards off. They pounded across the slippery sand. The heat fought them as much as the terrain. After only a hundred yards, Jake’s lungs burned as if he’d been sucking on a blowtorch.
“We’ll never make it!” Pindor gasped out.
“Keep going!” Jake yelled back. “Don’t give up!”
Ahead, a long, sandy dune blocked their way. Jake had no choice but to lead the others over it. They were soon all on their hands and knees, clawing up the steep slope. The sand kept slipping under them.
The yipping behind them got louder.
Jake twisted around and spotted the pack bounding toward them. There were eight of them, definitely saurian, each standing about Jake’s height, running on two legs. Occasionally one would hop high up in the air like a carnivorous kangaroo, cocking its head from side to side as it scanned the way ahead.
While it was in midair, Jake spotted a single sickle-shaped claw poking out from behind each leg. He’d seen fossils of that distinctive spur. As recognition struck him, fear strangled his throat. He scrambled faster to reach the top of the ridge.
“What are they?” Kady shouted.
Jake swallowed hard. “Velociraptors.”
Kady gawked at him and raised her sword. Even she knew the name of that dinosaur. “Like in the movie.”
After returning from Calypsos, she had watched Jurassic Park fifteen times and now considered herself an expert on the subject of dinosaurs. But the movie got those raptors wrong, doubling their size to make the film scarier. Such movie trickery was not really necessary. Though small, velociraptors were vicious predatory dinosaurs. They hunted in packs to bring down far larger beasts. They were the piranhas of the prehistoric world.
Kady’s sword would never be enough.
Jake pointed down the far side of the ridge. “Run!”
No one had to be told twice. As a group, they took bounding steps and skidded to reach the bottom. But they still had a long way to go. The pinnacle of rock lay the length of two football fields away.
Jake struggled to think of a way to get the pack off their trail and searched for some weapon. He had once use
d a dog whistle to chase off a tyrannosaurus, but he’d given the whistle to Pindor as a gift. And considering the state in which his friend had arrived here—naked as a jaybird—Jake was sure he didn’t have that whistle. He wished he’d thought to pack another one.
But what did he bring?
Jake took mental inventory.
In his vest pockets he had crammed matches, a lighter, beef jerky, a Swiss Army knife, extra batteries for the flashlight in his backpack, water-purifying tablets, packets of sugar, aspirin, some antibiotics, bug spray, suntan oil, lip balm. He ran through all he had, trying to think if anything could be used as a weapon.
The yipping grew louder behind him.
Ahead, another dune blocked their path, its slope dotted by desert flowers that looked like blue daffodils. At least this sand hill wasn’t as high as the first. He risked a glance behind him, allowing the others to go ahead.
So far the raptors hadn’t cleared the ridge back there.
Maybe those buzzards will give up….
He wasn’t that lucky. The first of them burst into view, a scout for the others. The sickle-clawed reptile stopped at the top, eyeing the landscape below, again cocking its head from side to side to survey the terrain.
Jake’s friends had already cleared the top of the smaller hill.
Jake slowed at the foot of the slope. As his group vanished over the dune, he knew they’d never reach that pinnacle of rock before being overtaken by the raptors.
Jake came to a grim conclusion.
He turned toward the reptilian scout on the ridge, shrugged his backpack into his hand, and twirled it above his head. The scout’s gaze snapped toward Jake. Jake’s only hope was to lure the pack away from his friends.
That’s right. Here I am.
Jake took off running, sprinting along the bottom of the long dune, away from his friends. He had to get the beasts to follow him. A look over his shoulder revealed the scout already bounding after him. More of the pack followed.
Jake ran faster, searching for somewhere to hole up, somewhere to hide; but the landscape was featureless. The yipping grew sharper—and closer.
He’d never make it.
Movement on the dune’s slope drew Jake’s eye.
One of the blue daffodils turned toward him. He caught a glint of sunlight reflecting from the heart of its petals.
Like glass.
Surprised, he missed a buried rock in the sand. His right leg slipped, and he went sprawling on his belly. It felt like sliding for home plate across broken glass. But that was the least of his problems.
He rolled onto his back.
Four yards away, the pack’s scout leaped up in the air, sailing high. Its scimitar hind claw flashed in the sunlight. A hunter’s scream burst from its throat as it cocked its head at its prey—
—and dove straight for Jake’s belly.
8
PRINCE OF THE SANDS
Jake rolled as the velociraptor fell at him. He also swung out with his backpack and hit the beast in midair. The weight and impact knocked the monster’s leg to the side.
Claws hit the sand beside Jake’s head.
Jake scrambled up the neighboring slope on his back, avoiding the blue daffodils.
The raptor whipped around and snapped at him. Jake shoved his pack between himself and the beast. Razor-sharp teeth tore into the backpack and ripped it open with a toss of the raptor’s head. The contents spilled out: Jake’s flashlight, his Nintendo DS, an extra roll of toilet paper.
The distraction of a roll of Charmin unraveling down the sandy slope allowed Jake to scramble another few yards uphill. He found himself eye to eye with the raptor, close enough to spot the tiny openings of its ears. Other members of the pack gathered below, ready to share in this meal. Tails swished in anticipation of the kill.
Jake lifted the remains of his shredded pack like a shield.
The scout grinned, its jaws gaping wider, teeth glinting.
It stepped toward him.
Suddenly a warbling trill rose all around.
The raptor froze—so did Jake.
The blue daffodil to his right exploded like a geyser. But rather than plant roots, a skinny shape leaped out of the sand. A cloak billowed, showering sand over Jake’s head. From under the cloak, a small man or a boy appeared, landing on his feet, bearing aloft a long spear. Down the slope on both sides of Jake, eruptions of sand produced more cloaked figures.
The first one shook back the cowl of his cloak. Most of his head remained hidden beneath a hooded leather mask that covered head, eyes, and nose. The hunter was equipped with a set of goggles fitted to a periscope—a scope camouflaged to look like a daffodil. He spit out a breathing tube that ran up the stem of the scope. The periscope must allow the hunter both to see and breathe while buried.
With a war cry, the small hunter lunged at the raptor with his spear.
Others hurled what looked like ripe tomatoes at the rest of the pack. Where the fruits hit, they detonated with loud bangs. A few exploded into flashes of fire. The pack of raptors—already skittish after the ambush—leaped in surprise and fled.
The cloaked hunter and the lead raptor were left, circling each other. The fighters looked evenly matched. The hunter would thrust out with his spear, but the raptor would dodge and snap, catching only air.
As they continued their deadly dance, the other hunters chased after the pack, yelling, lobbing more firebombs.
Below, the small hunter continued his solo battle with the lone remaining raptor. Had the ambushers trapped this one beast, separating it from the pack on purpose?
By now, Jake’s friends must have realized he was missing. Or maybe they heard the commotion and bomb blasts.
Kady yelled from a distance. “Jake! Where are you?”
Jake feared hollering back, afraid it would distract the hunter from his deadly battle with the raptor. Only yards away, human and beast circled, mixing feints and attacks, parries and blows.
Then the hunter made a misstep. He danced back, and his heel hit a loose rock—the same one Jake had tripped on earlier. Losing his poised balance, he fell hard onto his backside. The butt of his spear jarred deep into the loose sand of the dune.
The raptor lunged, jaws wide.
Jake slid down the slope and screamed with all his might.
The raptor’s attack faltered. The hunter retreated, abandoning his spear. Jaws snapped after the escaping prey and caught the hunter’s cloak. With a toss of its head, the raptor dragged its prize closer. The beast bared the hooked claw it used for gutting prey.
Jake couldn’t reach the trapped hunter in time, but he spotted something orange-red in the sand. One of the firebombs. It must have slipped from an ambusher’s sack. He dove for it, snatched the bomb, shoulder rolled, and flung the gourd as he came up.
It struck near the tail of the raptor, shooting a blast of fire.
The monster screeched, bolting straight up in the air. The cloak ripped out of the raptor’s jaws, and the hunter was flung away. The beast landed, neck stretched low, hissing in fury. Its tail smoked. Flames still flickered up from the sand.
The raptor looked around—then backed away a step, then another. It must have realized it had been abandoned by its pack. Hurt and spooked, it flung its muscular tail, swung around, and raced across the sand. Reaching the top of the dune, it bounded over the ridge and vanished.
Jake turned to the hunter, who was still dazed from hitting the sand so hard. He crossed to help the guy up, but the hunter sprang to his feet on his own.
“You fool!” he shouted.
Jake stopped in his tracks, shocked. The words felt like a slap in the face. He stared over at those goggled eyes.
“How dare you interrupt a royal hunt?”
Royal hunt?
Jake bristled at the hunter’s attitude. He had just saved this guy’s life. A sharp edge entered his voice. “I was only trying to—”
“Silence! Who gave you permission to speak?”
The small hunter raised an arm to encompass half of the party. “Run down this one’s companions. Shackle them.”
“But we didn’t do anything!” Jake blurted out.
The hunter took a pose of amused disdain. He eyed Jake up and down. “From your strange appearance and garb, you are all clearly escaped slaves from some outlying village. So perhaps this hunt has not been a total waste after all. Your lives now belong to me.”
Jake took a threatening step forward, but a pair of spears crossed before him, blocking him.
“Put him in shackles! The rest of the hunt is ruined for the day.”
Jake was driven to his knees.
The leader reached up and tore off his leather hood and goggles, revealing his face for the first time. Black hair came tumbling down. Violet eyes stared haughtily down at Jake. Lips smirked at his surprise. The leader was much younger than Jake had thought. No older than Jake himself. But that wasn’t the biggest shock.
“You’re … you’re a girl!”
Under straight bangs, her eyes were elaborately painted. Blue and crimson lines—possibly tattoos—extended from the outer corner of each eye to her hairline. Jake had seen paintings of such facial decorations.
On the walls of Egyptian tombs.
“I am more than a girl,” she said. “I am the daughter of the Glory of Ra, he who walks the world like a giant: the pharaoh Neferhotep, the glorious ruler of all of Deshret.”
A grandiose wave of her arm encompassed the entire world, along with the sun, moon, and stars. And she clearly believed it.
“You should be proud.” She swung away with a sweep of her shredded cloak. “You are now slave to Princess Nefertiti.”
9
MAKE THAT PRINCESS
OF THE SANDS