“You need to secure the box,” she shouted back at them. “Make sure it’s packed in tight.”
“Right,” Becker said, fixing the luggage straps round the cardboard. “And then open up all the packets — right?”
“All of them,” Abby acknowledged, and she nodded, straining back in her seat to check they were doing it properly. Becker tore at the cardboard packaging.
“Come on, come on,” Abby said. “Wave one of them around so they pick up the scent.”
Connor reached for a packet, tore off the top, then turned to face the Sauroposeidons that had massed further down the track.
“Oi!” he yelled to them. “You lot with the long necks. Get a whiff of this!” Cautiously he moved closer, holding the packet out in front of him. He blew across the top, trying to waft the scent in their direction.
Like tall trees moving in the breeze, the Sauroposeidons turned to stare at him through the gloom. Abby saw their eyes open wide as they sniffed the pungent, grassy odour. She’d learnt to make stink bombs in chemistry lessons at school, and had been given detention for gassing the boys’ toilets. Why can’t you apply your talents to something useful? her headmaster had despaired. If only he could see her now.
“They’re coming!” Connor cried. The dinosaurs moved slowly at first, but with more excitement as they picked up the scent and their instincts kicked in. The young ones in particular had been without much to eat ever since they had arrived, and they followed as quickly as their bulk would allow.
“Right,” Abby said, “that all the catnip?”
“We’ve got some more in the other truck,” Becker told her. He took the open packet in Connor’s hand and dropped it into the box. “But all of these are open, and I think they’ll do the trick. Good luck!”
“Thanks,” she said gratefully.
“But wait,” Connor said, “aren’t we coming —”
She put the car in gear and the 4×4 thrust forward, jarring her teeth as the car juddered over the sleepers. In her rear-view mirror, out through the still open hatch, she saw Becker dragging Connor out of the way of the Sauroposeidons, who were picking up speed as they gave chase. Like most creatures — and people — she had encountered, they were motivated mainly by their stomachs. And though they might never have smelled catnip before, it appeared they found it appealing.
She drove at speed into the tunnel, and suddenly the car engine was echoing loudly all around her, the car thrumming and bouncing over the sleepers. She glanced up at the mirror again, and saw the first Sauroposeidon ducking its head down to squeeze into the tunnel. With its neck stretched out in front of it, it continued to chase after her. She hoped the others would queue in an orderly fashion and follow on behind.
Ahead of her the anomaly twinkled and spun. She put her foot down hard again and the 4×4 sped into the light. She felt the topsyturvy prickling as she passed through time, the uncomfortable pull as everything metal in the car strained towards the light, and then the car was bouncing over the dry earth of a vast savannah. Abby kept going for a couple of hundred metres then skidded to a halt.
As she leapt out of the car, the first Sauroposeidon emerged from the anomaly behind her.
The sun beat down hard on her damp skin and clothes, making them steam as she ran to the back of the car and heaved at the box of catnip. Her face and hands were slick with sweat, and the box remained stuck fast in its moorings. Becker had lashed it in too well. She struggled with the knots with her sweaty fingers, but to no avail. Her plan had been to dump the box then steer a wide arc round the dinosaurs and drive back into the anomaly. She had to get rid of the catnip, or the creatures would just follow her back through.
Digging her hands inside the box, she scooped out as many packets as she could manage. They jostled to escape as she turned around, and fell at her feet. She had thought she might throw them, to divert the dinosaurs from the car. But there wasn’t time.
The Sauroposeidons lumbered towards her. There were seven of them, eight as another emerged from the anomaly. She couldn’t re-member how many there had been in London, cursing herself for not thinking to count them. She looked back at the 4×4, but it was too late, they had almost reached her. Instead, she scrambled out of the way just as the first Sauroposeidon poked its head in through the hatch, squash-ing the box altogether.
The other Sauroposeidons collided with the first, shoving and jostling for the strange food they could smell but not see. They nosed at the packets and the more they struggled, the more she could see their frustration. They lowed and shoved and snapped at one another. One Sauroposeidon stumbled against the 4×4 and knocked it over on its side. The others seemed to agree that the car had been at fault. They shoved it and slammed their bulky sides against it, smashing glass and crunching metal.
Abby ran back in the direction of the anomaly. She could smell the stink of the catnip on her clothes and skin, and hoped the Sauroposeidons would be too busy with the car to notice. Her boots sank into the soft brown earth, and to her weary legs it was as tiring as running through sand.
She glanced around. No, they weren’t following. But they’d stopped pounding her poor car. They stood tall, long necks craning towards the horizon.
Puzzled, Abby stopped in her tracks, maybe a hundred metres from the twinkling anomaly. She followed the dinosaurs’ gaze across the vast plain of pale brown earth, trees, ferns and foliage under a sweltering, clear sky.
And her jaw fell open in amazement.
They were in the Early Cretaceous, something like eighty million years before Abby’s own time. Yet on the horizon stood a squalid black factory; a man-made monstrosity, belching thick smoke into the sky.
TWENTY-FIVE
They watched Ted from the hallway as he went out to his car. He took his time rearranging whatever lay inside, and then he stepped back, glancing around at the starlit darkness while he rolled a cigarette. A few moments later he turned to the lodge, nodded almost imperceptibly, and rummaged for his lighter.
Danny and Lester walked swiftly out into the night, and clambered into the back hatch of the SUV. There was hardly room for them both, even without the cartons of Jo’burg beer. They folded themselves up as tightly as they could, and Ted slammed the door behind them.
They were immersed in total darkness. Danny could hear Lester breathing right up close. Outside, he heard the crunch of gravel as Ted ambled to the front of the car. Then the engine started and they took off at some speed. The cartons of beer sloshed and jostled around them as the car bumped and bucked along.
Danny tried to lie still, but his legs protested at being folded up so tightly. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing steady.
After a few minutes the car slowed to a stop. He tensed, hearing Ted leaning out the window to call to someone in his clicking isiXhosa. A couple of other men replied, laughing at some joke that Ted had made.
The laughter sounded cruel, and with a rush of panic Danny realised what a vulnerable position they had put themselves in. Had Ted just sold them out?
He heard the driver’s door opening, and Ted hauling himself out of the car. His footsteps crunched on the earth again as he made his way round to the back. The two other men continued to laugh as he chatted to them.
Danny heard Lester cocking the pin back on his pistol, ready to put up a fight. But realistically, crammed in the back of an SUV, they were both sitting ducks.
The hatch creaked open, letting bright starlight flow in behind them, partly obscured by a human silhouette. As he leaned in, Ted didn’t make eye contact, and ignored the pistol Lester pointed in his face. Instead he reached forward for a couple of cartons of beer, wedged them in the crook of one arm and used his free hand to slam the hatch back down.
Danny sighed as he heard Ted making his way over to the two other men, and more cruel laughter echoed as he handed out the drink. He guessed that Ted had been telling them that the two Englishmen wouldn’t now be needing the beer they’d asked for.
; After what seemed like an eternity, Ted returned to the car, climbed in, and they moved off again. Danny found that the cartons had acted as a useful shield for his shoulder, preventing it from hitting the side of the car, and now that they were gone, he kept bashing against the same hard, metal edge. He gritted his teeth against at the pain.
When the car finally ground to a halt for the second time, he almost cried out in frustration as Ted took his time getting out and ambling around to the back. And then the hatch was open and they scrambled out, stretching aching limbs and gasping in the cool, clean air.
He had parked up beside the tall chain-link fence that stretched off as far as they could see in both directions. Signs at regular intervals showed the same stick-man being electrocuted. The top of the fence, high above their heads, stuck out an angle, barbed wire glistening in the silvery starlight.
Danny looked back at the rough scrub and bushland of the game park, a vast expanse in the dark.
“I thought you were getting us out of here.”
“Yeah, but not through the gates — they’d probably search the car. Lucky they’ve not missed your two friends yet.”
“So we scale the fence?” Danny asked. “That might get a bit hot.”
“You think?” Ted pointed at the ground. Heavy-set tyre tracks snaked back and forth under the same portion of the fence. Danny recognised the tracks they’d seen before. “You know what’s in that direction?” Ted asked, indicating where the tracks disappeared off to on the far side.
“The mine, I’d guess,” Danny said.
Ted nodded, then using his torch he scrutinised the marks in the ground.
“Come and go most nights. Been through here twice today.”
“That’s because they’ve tried to get us eaten twice in the last twenty-four hours,” Lester said. “I’m beginning to think it’s personal.”
“So how do we get through?” Danny avoided the temptation to simply prod the electric fence.
“Don’t know.” Ted scratched his chin. “Never seen them do it. Just followed their tracks.”
Lester picked up a stone, bounced it in his hand as he assessed its weight, then threw it in a precise arc so that it hit the fence just above the tyre tracks. The fence clattered with noise and sparks of electricity, and the stone exploded in a plume of dust.
“Ah,” Lester sighed.
Danny squinted into the pale starlight.
“Maybe there’s a remote control box, something they can switch on and off without getting out of the truck.”
Without getting any closer to the fence, they appraised the tall poles that were supporting it, looking for any incongruous detail. But there was nothing.
“Perhaps they just turn the electricity off at specific, pre-determined times,” Lester suggested.
“It’s dangerous to turn the fence off,” Ted said, “since the inmates might escape.” He shook his head slowly, trying to puzzle it out.
Danny paced up and down in front of the barrier, nervous about how exposed they were, and how soon the other gamekeepers would be on their trail. They had to get past this thing, and quickly.
He walked over to the fence, and stood in between the two lines of tracks. Peering through the chain-link, he could see only scrubby earth. He didn’t dare get any closer for fear of ending up in very small, crisply barbecued pieces. He turned carefully around, his back to the fence, and took three careful steps away from it.
“Look,” he said, pointing. Lester came over to look from his vantage point.
“Tyre tracks,” he said, “leading off into the distance. I expect the top lot go back to that tree where Sophie died.”
“And —” Danny prompted.
“And what?”
“Look. There’s a kink in them. Just there.”
Lester looked. Danny took another few steps forward and stood directly on the point where the truck had changed direction ever so slightly before passing through the fence.
“The tracks are sunk further into the ground, so they must have stopped here for a bit.”
“Waiting for the electricity to be turned off,” Lester said.
“Yeah, or because —” Danny turned back to face the fence, then adjusted himself so he stood beside the right-hand track, in roughly the same place as the driver would have sat while the truck had parked.
To Lester’s distain and Ted’s delight, he mimed rolling down a window and reaching his arm out, and the tips of his fingers nicked the needle-like thorns of an acacia. He withdrew his hand quickly, sticking his cut fingers in his mouth. They tasted of blood and dust.
Ted came over and crouched down by the acacia bush. He tentatively poked a finger in between the thorns. Something hidden inside clicked distinctly, a ticker whirred and they watched the fence, assuming it would swing open.
Nothing happened.
Lester hefted another stone and bowled it at the electric fence. It rebounded, still intact.
“A timer — we can get through as long as that thing’s still whirring. How long does that give us?”
“Let’s not find out,” Danny said, racing for the fence. He examined it quickly and soon found a long metal pin that seemed to connect one section to the ground. He fought to release it, and then found the section of fence trying to swing away from him.
Ted fired up the engine of his SUV and drove quickly through the gap, the other two following behind on foot. They closed the fence and Lester reached his fingers through to grasp at the long metal pin that would secure it once again. His fingertips brushed against it, missed, and pushed it further out of reach. He sighed, exasperated.
“Let me,” Danny said. And not waiting for a response, he pushed a stick through the chain links, tapping the pin towards its slot. The timer whirred from the far side, then went silent.
Danny gave the pin a sharp bash with the stick and it fell into place. A sudden rattle of sparks exploded in their faces. They leapt back, falling into the dirt. As they sat up, Danny raised the stick he’d been holding. Smoke trailed from the burnt-off end, just a centimetre from his fingers.
They left the car about a mile from the mine and made the rest of the journey on foot. Ted had a Winchester Model 70, and Lester and Danny the Colt pistols they’d taken from their would-be killers.
A cool night breeze brushed at them as they followed the road that went snaking through the scrubby landscape. When a car appeared further up the way, its headlights dazzling novas in the otherwise twinkling night, they dropped to the ground, lying flat in the earth where it dipped away from the road. The headlights created a long shadow over them as the car passed by. They waited a good minute after it had gone, just to be sure, then continued on their way.
The mine stood tall and imposing, a looming behemoth on the otherwise unsullied horizon. It stank of oil and industry. A fork-lift truck moved a huge drum across the forecourt to join a vast stash of the things; equivalent to the petrol needs of all the ARC’s own vehicles for about a year. Danny could almost smell the money pouring from the place.
Avoiding a second tall electric fence ahead of them, they skirted around the perimeter of the complex. Ted pointed out armed guards on duty, but none of them looked their way. Danny also spotted large trucks with trailers — just the thing for transporting oversized cargo back and forth — prehistoric predators, for example.
They continued on, until they located a break in the fence, a man-sized gap guarded by a bored sentry. He was a solid black shape, back-lit by the glaring bright lights of the mine. Danny would have attempted to get past him, but Ted grabbed his arm. They hung back, in the shadows, watching as another soldier emerged through the gap. The sentry and the soldier exchanged a few words, then the soldier took a few steps further out into the open and lit a cigarette.
“You wouldn’t want to allow smoking on top of an oil mine,” Danny whispered. “Think of the insurance.”
A few minutes later the soldier stubbed out his cigarette, turned, cuffed the sentry on the elbo
w and made his way back into the mine.
“Okay,” Ted said, getting to his feet.
Danny touched his arm.
“You can leave us here; you’ve done more than enough.”
Ted shrugged. “I’ve come this far...” His eyes gleamed with excitement, and something else.
Danny grinned and smacked him on the back.
“Okay then, we know they’ve got their own private store of dinosaurs, but they’ve also got gaps in their fence, so the animals probably don’t roam freely round the complex. I reckon they don’t want anyone seeing them, anyway, so we just need to handle the human security.”
“We go in,” Ted said, “knock them out, and put on their uniforms. Just like in the movies.”
“Or we just go in and knock them out. Probably a similar result.”
They kept to the shadows as best they could. The silhouetted sentry seemed to be gazing out to their left, so they arced round to the right. Heart pumping, Danny sprang out from the darkness about a hundred yards from the man, who still didn’t look their way. He ran quietly, swiftly, fifty yards... twenty...
He skidded to a halt as huge searchlights blazed into life, blinding the three intruders.
“Drop your weapons,” a South African accent blared through a loudspeaker from somewhere behind the glare. “Drop your weapons, or we’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Ted laid his rifle at his feet, then took a step back. Lester and Danny snapped the magazines out of their pistols then tossed the guns onto the earth just in front of them. Soldiers rushed forward, rifles aimed towards them. Danny heard one of them — perhaps the one who’d spoken through the loudspeaker — say something into an earpiece.
“Tell the boss we’ve got them. And Ted as well.”
“He’s not with us,” Danny said. “We brought him here against his will.”
The soldier punched him hard in the chest. He collapsed down on one knee, struggling for breath.
TWENTY-SIX
Sarah dived across the desk, the massive creature just missing her legs. It collided hard with the toughened glass window that looked out over the operations room, and fell back, stunned.
Fire and Water Page 18
