Dark Island
Page 22
“Yet, here they are,” Mack finished.
“Yep,” Ian agreed, checking his pistol. He glanced up at her. “How’s your ammo?”
“Iffy at best. We lost Nash’s rifle when the fossa attacked us.”
Ian’s eyes lit up. “Do you know where it fell?”
Mack shrugged. “Right here. Well, down there, anyway.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “We didn’t have a lot of time to look for it. He was afraid of the fossa’s blood drawing another predator to our position.”
Ian nodded. “Good thinking.”
Mack’s shoulders fell. “You think we’ll see them again—Nash and Babo, I mean?”
Ian shrugged. “I hope so.”
“Even Nash?” Mack asked, knowing Ian’s feelings for the mercenary.
Ian stared at her. “No one deserves to be left behind down here.” He turned and headed the way they had come. “Even a jerk like Nash.”
Mack followed him, carefully watching where she stepped. “He’s not much of an asshole once you get to know him.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ian asked, looking over his shoulder.
Mack grinned. “Don’t get me wrong… He’s as pompous as it gets, but there’s still a soldier in there somewhere. He was laser-focused when he needed to be, and well, he was Nash when the situation allowed it.” Mack grabbed a branch to her left and tight-roped over a crisscrossing of intertwined tree limbs. “He saved my life a few times when he could’ve just as easily have run.”
“You’re cute and have the other half of his money,” Ian said flatly. “Nash isn’t any deeper than that.”
Mack wanted to argue against Ian’s perception of Nash but didn’t. She thought the Brit had opened up to her a couple of times and revealed that he was a more complex person.
Unless he didn’t? Was he just trying to get in my pants?
Instead of arguing over nothing—it really was nothing at the end of the day—Mack kept quiet and stayed vigilant as they made their way back down the huge tree trunk. The coarse bark made it easy for their boots to find traction, making the trek much shorter than their climb.
The rest helped too.
Mack was in a lot better health than Ian, and even she momentary appreciated the respite. After seeing Babo and Ian, and experiencing Nash’s injuries firsthand, Mack knew she’d been lucky so far. She’d only received a few cuts and a couple other bumps and bruises, but nothing worse than that.
They were nearing the area where she and Nash had stumbled upon a turf war between flightless birds and bugs. The cleaned-out skeleton of what was probably Ian’s drongo-croc gave her another feeling of dread. The body was gigantic and had been taken down by a swarm of axe-wielding beetles.
Maybe they can kill the haizina?
Mack looked back at their perch just as the world around her came apart. Ian quickly shoved her out of the way of a falling tree limb, and she rolled and came to a stop to see him doing the same maneuver on the other side of the twenty-foot-long “appendage.”
The ground around them exploded into the air, driving them back the other way. Mack was slammed hard, wrenching her back and knee. Ian landed face first, and when he didn’t get up right away, she panicked.
Everything shook.
Everything.
Mack’s fillings felt like they were coming loose as the ground shuddered violently. She screamed, grabbing her head and clenching her eyes shut. Tucking her knees into her chest, Mack waited for either the quakes to stop or for herself to lose consciousness.
She and Ian were at the epicenter of a massive earthquake. There was no doorway to hide within, nor was there any wide-open spaces to run to and take cover. The only place she could go was deeper into herself. So, she did. Mack grabbed her knees hard and buried her face into them.
She wanted to check on Ian, but physically couldn’t. Once, she tried to open her eyes, and all she experienced was a rush of blood and a feeling of immense pressure and nausea. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop.
Mack mercifully lost consciousness moments later. When she did, the last thing she remembered seeing was a light.
Am I dead?
31
“Ah!”
Ian was startled awake. He’d never felt his hands shake so badly before. Climbing onto his hands and knees, Ian slowly realized that he wasn’t in his bed in South Africa, a place he’d not been to in years—nor was he in any bed at all.
The throbbing sensation that hit him like a ton of bricks eventually reminded him of exactly where he was. He was inside Madagascar…running from monsters. But something about his surroundings felt different now. Even without opening his eyes, Ian knew there had been a significant change to the world around him.
He knew it was going to hurt like hell when he opened his eyes. So, he used his other senses instead. First, he touched the ground and felt the same soil he’d been on before which gave him confirmation that he was still in the cave. Secondly, he listened for the sounds that he expected in the world below. There wasn't much to expect except for sounds of shaking and roars of hungry carnivores.
Huh? he thought. The shaking stopped. And his senses told him there was something else.
Even from behind his eyelids, Ian could tell that there was light—a lot of it. He could even feel the warm sun kissing his skin. Ian knew he’d lost consciousness…again…but he had no idea how long he’d been out.
Hours?
No, that wasn’t right. Ian could tell he was still on the cave floor. The dusky smell, while lessened some, was still there. As was the aforementioned dirt. If he was unconscious for an extended period of time on ground level, then why hadn’t he been eaten by something? And why was he in the same spot where he’d fallen?
And what’s with the natural light?
No, he thought, suddenly understanding where he was. That’s impossible!
Gritting his teeth, Ian readied himself for the searing pain he knew would come. Opening his eyes for less than a second, he took in the world around him, seeing it had dramatically changed.
It was no longer the world below Madagascar, but the world on top of it.
Ian, along with a significant portion of the underground forest, had been transported up through hundreds of feet of earth. How he wasn’t crushed to death by the cavern ceiling, he had no idea. As far as he could figure out, it was sheer luck.
Better than shit luck.
Remarkably, trees, dozens of them, still stood in all their majesty. Some were missing pieces, however, but a few of them were whole and incredible to look at in the morning light. The sun was low to the east, telling Ian it had just started its daily commute across the sky. It reminded him of the vision he had of him and Mack on the beach.
Oh, god.
“Mack!”
Ian shouted her name, spinning in circles. He frantically searched the immediate area around him but found nothing. All but forgetting his mind-numbing headache, he sprinted around a boulder as large as his apartment above Fossa’s Fangs and found her.
“No.”
The enormous stone had landed…right beside Mack, barely missing her. Rushing forward, Ian slid to his knees and checked for a pulse. He sobbed a cry of relief when he found it. It was strong, like her. Growling against the pain radiating through his entire body, Ian tried to scoop Mack up but she didn't move. A piece of her shirt was pinned to the ground beneath the boulder.
We were both lucky.
Unsheathing his knife, the last of his weapons, he’d lost his pistol somewhere, Ian carefully cut the fabric free and picked her up. Eyes closed, Mack nestled into him further, moaning against the sun as Ian turned to face it.
“Did I miss something?” Mack asked eyes closed “When did we get topside?”
“Hell if I know,” Ian replied, adjusting Mack a little. “Technically, we’re still in the forest.”
The words sank in, and Ian practically dropped Mack as she leaped from his arms. He had to steady her, while she took in her new, yet familiar
, surroundings. One of Mack’s hands went to her head, no doubt fighting off the same ill effects as Ian.
“Holy shit…” she said, choked up. Ian put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We made it.”
A blur to their left charged, and with no gun, Ian was helpless to do anything. Thankfully, Mack wasn’t too out of it. She drew her pistol and unloaded it into a creature Ian had yet to see. The tall, dark-feathered, dead bird slid to a stop a few feet from Ian and Mack.
One of her elephant birds.
Even in death, the animal really was a beautiful sight.
“Fuck,” Mack said, tossing her gun aside. Empty.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ian said, “you did well.”
Mack snorted. “I know. I was more upset that one of the shits made it up to the surface.” She faced him. “What if there are others—bigger others out here with us?”
Ian’s eyes opened wide. “We need to warn someone.”
“How?” Mack asked. “Last I checked, neither one of us has any of our gear.”
He knew she was right, but Ian knew of another way.
“I have a sat phone in my truck. If, and it’s a big if…” He rubbed his chin. “If we can get to it, we can call it in.” He waved his hand around. “All of this is going to gain international attention, but it may be too late for anyone living around the park.”
Both Ian and Mack stood there thinking, both silent. When he was about to speak again, something off in the distance caught his ear. He couldn’t see it, but he knew what it was.
“Is that a helicopter?” Mack asked.
Ian nodded and ran east, stopping when he came to the newly formed cliff. Beneath their perch was part of the old one. Unfortunately, it was much too far of a jump and too steep to descend without gear.
Maybe we won’t have to climb down after all.
Seconds later, the incoming aircraft showed itself, rising up from beneath. Ian immediately recognized that it was a civilian model that belonged to one of those tour agencies that charged outrageous fees to well-off people who want an eagle-eye view of the park. The pilot saw Ian and Mack and rose above and behind, setting down in a clearing to the west. They met it there and quickly climbed in, frightening a well-dressed couple as they did.
Ian’s scarred, and bloodied appearance was enough to give anyone a jolt, but what he said next, combined with a teeth-rattling quake, really tightened the sphincters of the couple and that of the pilot.
“Get this thing out of here, now!”
“But—” the pilot began, bouncing in his seat.
“The whole damn mountain is coming apart!”
Shutting his mouth, the pilot yanked back on the collective, bringing the helicopter into a low hover.
Ian purposely left out the part about the multitude of evolved predators on the hunt, knowing the looks he’d get. The first thing he needed to do was to get all parties out of here. It didn’t matter what he told them right this minute.
“What about any other survivors?” the pilot asked, his accent South African.
“None,” Ian replied, looking away.
It hurt to say that, but he needed to assume that both Babo and Nash were dead. Whether they were or not was something Ian would personally look into once the dust settled. He would go back into the underworld, guns blazing, and perform his own search-and-rescue mission.
But first, he needed to get patched up, eat something, and arm himself. Everything he required was in the back of his truck too. He could be back up the mountain later that day.
If it doesn’t actually come apart like I warned.
That, he couldn’t predict if it would happen. If the quakes continued and the magma rose, it was most definitely possible. The forest sitting atop the massif could be obliterated, along with everyone and everything within it.
Even now, Ian could see shadows darting in and out of the trees. The helicopter was high enough that they were safe, and Ian was pretty sure that the animals below were more of Mack’s elephant birds.
“Please, no raptors.”
“What?” the pilot asked, hearing Ian’s mumbled words.
“Nothing…” He glanced at Mack. “It’s nothing.”
Biting her lip, Mack was visibly worried—and she had a right to be. Ian was too. But as the aircraft rose higher and higher and began moving back to the east, toward the rising sun, Ian felt a weight slowly lift from his shoulders. He and Mack had survived, but neither was going to just walk away.
“Woah!” the pilot yelled, turning the aircraft sideways.
Through the left-hand window, the helicopter’s five occupants watched as the newly-formed, mountaintop forest caved-in on itself. The center of it bulged before finally giving in and returning to the depths, trees and all. The eastern cliff face also cracked and crumbled, turning into an enormous landslide. It took some of the cliff they had climbed to get to the top of the Andringitra massif along with it.
The eastern wall blew apart beneath the waterfall of stone and revealed a dark void. Ian knew it was an undiscovered vent, much like the ones they’d just finished navigating. As the pilot started to turn the chopper away from the swiftly collapsing mountain, something promptly exited the large opening.
“Dive!” Ian shouted. “Dive. Dive. Di—”
The shouts of the newest parties involved muted his last command as the monstrous beast leaped into the air, opened its enormous wing-like membranes, and took flight…straight for the helicopter.
Bolting from his seat, Ian dove over the rear-facing bench seat, separating the shrieking woman from her shaking husband with his body. Since the pilot wasn’t responding to the incoming threat, Ian took control of the stick and shoved it forward, putting the aircraft into a steep, out-of-control dive. Everyone, including Ian, screamed as the ground came up fast beneath them.
But his efforts were all for not. The chopper was struck hard from behind, sending them into a chaotic tailspin.
Seconds later, they crashed, sliding to a stop on the helicopter’s right side. Surprised he didn’t lose consciousness for the tenth time, Ian shook his head and looked up through the cracked left-hand window. There, circling the crash site in the sky above, was a giant, four-legged, demon vulture.
Then, the fanahin'ny haizina, the spirit of darkness, descended upon them.
32
Pushing himself harder than he’d ever had—and that was saying a lot—Ian army-crawled over the inert bodies of the wealthy couple, first checking their pulses. Finding theirs, he continued over to the pilot. Regrettably, Ian couldn’t find his. Leaning in closer, he saw what had killed the man.
When the windshield had broken, it had happened inwardly and a large piece of glass was lodged in the pilot's throat. There was nothing Ian could do for him. No CPR—no tourniquet could be applied. The vacant expression on his face said it all.
Dammit.
He took a moment to clear his head. It felt like a combat mission had gone terribly wrong, and the enemy was closing in on his position. While it was somewhat correct, the enemy, in this case, wasn’t of the human variety. Those he knew how to kill. The thing chasing Ian now was seemingly indestructible.
Mack was next on his list.
She had been buckled into her seat when the chopper went down—everyone except Ian had been buckled in. And yet, here he was, the only one still conscious. Eventually, his miraculous luck would run out, and he’d end up like the pilot, a name Ian didn’t know, a man who’d unintentionally saved his and Mack’s lives.
He glanced back over to the couple. Ian figured they had bribed the pilot to take a look at the new mountaintop forest, having no real interest in anything as noble as rescuing anyone from danger.
Feeling Mack’s neck, Ian found what he’d come to expect. Inside the ridiculously determined woman’s neck, was a strong and steady pulse. Nothing, it seemed, could keep Mack down.
He stroked her soft face with his grimy hand, knowing she wouldn’t mind. For just a moment, Ia
n forgot where he was and leaned in to kiss her. Then, it landed just outside the crumpled tin can of wreckage. He stayed silent and watched, thankful he was the only one awake to see what happened next. Not even Mack would’ve been able to contain her terror—not that he did much better.
A hot, acidy wash of air rolled through the helicopter’s rear hold. Without looking up again, Ian knew what was happening. The Madagascan dragon was inspecting the carcass of the strange, metal bird that it had just knocked out of the sky. Instead of gazing skyward, Ian focused on the world around him, starting with the creature itself.
The first thing he noticed was that it was bleeding. Its long front arms were just outside the glassless cockpit. The thing’s right leg was bleeding heavily from a giant cut to its wrist.
Rear rotor?
Ian remembered feeling something strike the backend of the chopper before they went spinning out of control. Not knowing what it was, the beast went for the fleeing mechanical prey, finding a spinning blade instead of meat.
Ian was actually stunned to see that it could be injured. Something of its size and age seemed like it should be impossible to kill. Then again, he saw similar animals lying dead within the subterranean world. First the one in the graveyard, and then the one in the living quarters at the top of the cliffside city. It gave him hope that the one standing over the helicopter would be joining its brethren as well.
But how?
Mack stirred, shoving her palm into Ian’s face while gripping onto the front of his tactical vest.
She didn’t know it was him.
“Shhh…” he hissed, covering her mouth with his hand. Hearing him, Mack calmed and blinked awake, eyes locking onto the monster looking down at her. Ian also took a peek at it for the first time.
And it was looking right at them…sort of.
Its snout was shoved into the rear hold, only feet from the back of Ian’s head. It could no doubt smell them, but could it see them? Ian knew it didn’t matter. Its jaws were so immense that all it had to do was quickly open and shut them and he and Mack would both be cut in half.