by Alan Spencer
Tiger toad blew up his body like a balloon. The thing was five times its size now. Bloated and insane, tiger toad braced itself for a giant meal. One great FLICK later, the tongue wrapped around T-Rex's body four times, squeezed him tight, and lifted him off of his feet.
In four seconds, tiger toad's mouth shot open and unhinged like the entrance to some great castle. T-Rex went right down the toad's expansive throat and was gone.
Tiger toad.
Winner.
Not Safe Yet
Candy located the keys. There was a small hidden compartment in the boat's floor for a stashing place. Bruce was about to use that key to start up the engine when he noticed he was being watched. The toad was on the beach with its head turned at them. Its body was noticeably larger. Much of the forest was burning behind the monster. He wondered if the entire forest was going to be turned to ash by the time the blaze burned itself out.
"What's it doing?"
Candy's question was obvious. He didn't tell her that. He wanted his last moments in this world to be as pleasant as possible.
"It's waiting for the right moment to spring at us."
"Start the boat."
"If we start the boat, it might go after us."
"It's going to go after us anyway."
The simple movement of inserting the key into the ignition caused the toad to take one antsy step closer.
"Shit."
"Okay. Don't move. My bad."
"Figures it would happen this way."
"What do you mean?"
"I made movies where people were eaten by things like this though never a toad. I'm atoning for my sins. I made porno. I lived like a scumbag."
"Just because you made porn doesn't make you a scumbag. You're not a scum bag."
"I'm just saying; this situation is poetic justice."
"Fuck poetic justice. You're a good man. I love you. You're my husband. Fuck this toad!"
Candy reached into a compartment beside the wheel and fired a flare gun right at the toad. The flare landed inside the open track of its sinus cavity. The whole toad's head lit up a bright incendiary cherry. The toad scrambled, hopping left and right, and tripping over itself to put out the flare.
"Good work!"
"Just get us the hell out of here."
Bruce turned the key, and the engine came right on. They were speeding off and were a safe distance away when they noticed the toad on the beach with the backdrop of burning forest behind it.
Candy was screaming. "Oh my God! Oh my God!"
The toad's great belly was torn in twain. T-Rex's body lunged from the parted flesh curtains and dangling tubes of guts and organs. The dinosaur tossed aside the dead toad's body by kicking it. Its skin was melting from super powerful digestive enzymes. Chunks of flesh, meat, and bone were disintegrating fast. T-Rex didn't care. It threw its battle ravaged skull back and roared its dominance across the entire island and far out into the ocean. The glorious moment ended seconds later when T-Rex fizzled to death against the sand.
Safe?
Bruce guided the boat into the ocean. Hours has passed, and the inklings of dawn were coloring the horizon. It was then the boat ran out of gas. They were fortunate because there were more gas reserves inside the boat in another hidden compartment.
When morning was in full force, Candy broke the long held silence between them. "What are we going to do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Everybody's dead. The cast and crew. We're going to have to tell the police. When we do that, what in the world are we going to tell them?"
"Nothing they'll accept as the truth. We can show them the island. I think that'll be proof enough. They'll never believe a word of what we tell them without something to back it up.
"There's one thing I am worried about. When news of this hits, those who died on that island will be exploited. They'll use the tragedy to market the film. You won't finish the movie, right?"
"Of course not. That doesn't mean the company won't find some other idiot to slap together a collection of scenes and call it Dino Buffet 3."
"So what's going to happen to us?"
Bruce regarded her scared face. "Nothing, honey. We didn't commit any crimes. Everything's going to be okay. Don't be afraid, Candy. I'm here. We're alive. Nothing can harm us anymore."
Something pricked him on the side. He turned to his hip and saw the dart sticking out. Where had it come from? Candy was already on the floor sprawled out and unconscious. His vision blurred. Everything in his body went weak. He slumped down onto the floor alongside his girlfriend as the tranquilizer dart did its job.
Epilogue
Bruce came awake in a small tiled room with a metal, cot a toilet, and sink. He was hazy and blinking the double vision out of his eyes. Whatever drug was shot into him, it was intense. He tried the door. Locked.
He pounded his fist against the door. "Hey! Where am I? Where's Candy? Who are you people?"
He heard steps approach. A confident and cool voice said, "Mr. Ryder, can I count on you to be calm when I open this door?"
"Where's Candy? What did you do with her? You can't hold people like this. We're Americans. We have rights. I'm going to sue your ass!"
"Whoa, Mr. Ryder. Candy's perfectly safe. She woke up before you. We're taking good care of her. What we need you to do is calm down so we can talk. Can you do that?"
Bruce's heart rate had spiked. He bent over the sink, splashed cold water on his face, lapped up a handful of water, and leveled out his breath.
"Mr. Ryder? Are you okay in there?"
"Yeah. I'll be calm."
"Very good."
The door opened. Candy shot into the room and hugged him. She was dressed in military fatigues. Her blonde hair was put back in a bun.
"What's going on here?"
"The Colonel will explain everything."
"The Colonel?"
"Call me Colonel Painter."
Bruce stuck his hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you. I didn't realize this was a military situation."
The Colonel was an old man with a gray flat top haircut and a face with more wrinkles than a Shar-Pei dog. He was built like a wall of bricks. His handshake was firm enough to break his wrist if the son-of-a-bitch felt so inclined.
"Your lovely friend here filled me on all the details. Let's go to a private room for a word."
Bruce didn't like the sound of that. But Candy wasn't scared. Relief kept playing out on her face. She locked arms with him and patted his chest. "It's okay. They're the good guys."
"Yeah. If that's true, why did you dart us on that boat? I didn't see you coming. It's clear you snuck up on us. Where are we, Colonel Painter?"
"All in good time. Keep following me."
Colonel Painter guided them down a narrow white hallway into a conference room. Inside was a table with a buffet of food.
"Go ahead and eat, Mr. Ryder. You need to replenish your energy."
"For what? You brought us here for a reason, and now you're about to unload some serious shit on us."
"Serious, yes. Go ahead and eat. Please. We're getting ahead of ourselves."
The colonel crossed his arms and stood there until Bruce loaded a plate with chicken, macaroni and cheese, and a side of green beans. He was hungry. Candy sat next to him at a small table. She was Velcro'd to his side.
Once he was done eating, the colonel lit a cigar, and enjoyed a pull. He let the smoke crawl out of his lips.
"No matter what I say, hear me out first. You found that island on accident. Yes, we know about the creatures there. We've been researching them and doing tests over the years. We mined every scientific piece of information from that place. We weren't sure what to do with the island after that, so we left it alone. It was guarded for many years, then we had to pool our resources elsewhere. A new global threat has taken up all of our energies. We're understaffed. You getting on that island was a masterful fuck up. Somebody would've stopped you, but we haven't had surveillance on th
e island for awhile. I know, it makes us look like a bunch of assholes. Point noted.
"That said, you burned down that entire island. The fire is what brought us there, and why we picked you up. We shot you with darts to avoid resistance. We weren't sure if you were armed or if you were half out of your minds from what you witnessed. It saves time getting you from point A to point B if you're unconscious.
"Moving on, I'm in charge of a special branch of the government. I work for the AGCG. That stands for the Anti Globo Corps Group. Globo Corps has turned into a powerful terrorist superpower. These terrorists aren't the bomb in your shoe variety. They've already tried to destroy us with their battle whale."
"Battle whale?"
"Let me finish, Mr. Ryder."
Candy was holding him tighter. They were both nervous. The food in Bruce's stomach was being painfully digested. He was sweating now. Everything about the situation felt so wrong.
"Globo Corps used to be a corporate super power. They made normal garden variety products like your lawnmowers and tampons. Innocent enough. But now they want to take over the world. I'm talking about complete world domination. It's something right out of one of your movies, Mr. Ryder, and I'm not talking about the pornos.
"Globo Corps has created a new brand of weapons. They already have missiles, soldiers, high tech weapons, and the funding to pull off their plans. The one thing that worries us the most is what else they have."
Both Candy and Bruce said, "And that would be?"
"Monsters."
Bruce was shaken. "Monsters? Did I hear you right?"
"Hell yes, you did. They have monsters beyond your wildest imagination. Things with tentacles, and scales, and big ass teeth. I can go into the details later. Imagine your worst nightmare blown up to mega proportions. That would be the humble beginning of what we're up against. There is one thing Globo Corps wasn't counting on."
"And what was that?" Candy asked softly.
Colonel Painter had a knowing smile plastered across his face. The bastard was thoroughly enjoying this session. "We've got a team of some of the best operatives the government has ever had the pleasure of utilizing. I'm talking about Anchor Stevens, Freddy Stones, Pierce Range, and Nick Folder. We've got other operatives up our sleeves too. These are the best of the fucking best. They will serve our cause well."
"I don't know who any of these people are, Colonel." Bruce couldn't shake that horrible sinking feeling. "Why tell us any of this information? Please, this conversation is killing me. Why do you need us at all? We make movies."
"Oh, you'll understand things very soon. There's also another X factor these Globo Corps goons weren't counting on that you should know about."
"Yeah," Bruce said. "What else you got? A nuclear sling shot?"
The colonel was unfazed by the bad joke. "No. The thing they weren't counting on is that we have monsters too."
"Whaaat?" Bruce felt himself go limp in his chair. "This is so unbelievable. I don't know how we can help you. I really don't."
"I'm getting to that, and hey, what do you know? We're about to arrive to the point of this talk. That island you torched is all ash. That was a piece of government property you destroyed. That's a big no-no. We're talking about serious jail time."
Bruce struck his fist against the table. "We were defending ourselves! There were things on that island you can't imagine. I think self-defense applies here and then some!"
Colonel Painter moved swiftly to grab Bruce's pointer finger. He pulled it backwards and almost broke his finger.
"Oh God! Stop!"
"Let him go!" Candy shouted. "Okay. We'll listen to whatever you have to say. He's sorry. Now stop it."
The colonel released his finger. He enjoyed his cigar for a moment as Bruce was bent over clutching his hand in agony.
"Moving on. Yeah, you destroyed some government property. We can go on about what you had to do and why you did it, and it wouldn't change a thing. The point is, you can either go to jail, or you can serve your country. Those are your options. And know this, you don't get a lawyer. This is deep secret government stuff. When it comes to this brand of terrorism, all rules are thrown out the window. Our backs are up against the wall here."
Bruce looked into Candy's face. They both knew they had no choice but to go along with the colonel's wishes.
Bruce answered for the both of them. "What is it you want from us?"
"It's simple. I want you two to video document our battle with Globo Corps. We're going to an undisclosed location in the Middle East. That's where they're keeping their monsters trained to attack the United States. The plan is to attack their base, take out the threat, and save the day. We want you to record every moment. Call it the government covering their asses. Say it's for insurance reasons. Whatever. After the war in Iraq, we need clear evidence of the threat we're terminating. Otherwise, it'll look like we're just playing with our dicks, you get me?"
"I guess so," Candy said. "Maybe."
"Yeah, yeah, we got you." Bruce crossed his arms. "You're basically blackmailing us into doing what you want us to do. Whatever. This is a typical game of government chess. But we need some level of reassurance that if we do what you're saying, that once it's all done, we're free."
"Absolutely. You serve your country, you do your duty, you will return to your lives before all of this happened."
Candy blurted out, "How long do we go to jail if we don't? Just curious?"
"The jail sentence will be thirty-five years. At least."
"That answers that question," Bruce balked. "Give me a camera. Let's shoot this shit."
"Great, you're both in," the colonel said, smiling big. "You want to see something really cool before you're briefed on the mission and you meet the gang?"
They didn't answer.
The colonel didn't care. "Okay. Here we go."
They were following the colonel down several sets of stairs. It appeared they were on some kind of ship.
"Let me reassure you, you'll be with a group of soldiers that are topnotch. Real pros. Your safety will be number one."
Bruce held Candy's hand. They were both trembling. His life had gone from one extreme to another in a matter of minutes. The danger hadn't left their lives. They had fallen deeper into a bad place, and there was no turning back.
The colonel stopped in front of a steel door. Three soldiers armed with M-16s stood guard. They parted to let the colonel punch a code. When the door opened, Bruce and Candy's jaws dropped.
The colonel presented the contents of the room. "It's like from one of your movies, isn't it? And I'm not talking about the pornos."
Holy shit, was all Bruce could think. Holy motherfucking shit.
Candy's eyes were giant.
Inside towering glass cages, T-Rexes by the hundreds stood at the ready for battle. They were covered from head to toe in massive machine guns, rocket launchers, flame throwers, and new wireless technologies.
The colonel slapped Bruce on the back. "They're ready for their close up, Mr. Ryder! These dinos are only the beginning of our defenses. You should see the battle belugas."
Bruce had to hold up Candy. Her legs nearly buckled from underneath her.
"Battle what?"
"Put your questions on pause, Mr. Ryder. I'm going to brief you two on what's going on very soon. Don't you worry. We're about to go to war in a matter of hours. Globo Corps won't know what hit them."
Read on for a free sample of Dinosauria
THE BETRAYAL
He was the boss, and everyone knew it.
“Some people forget,” George Tanaka said, a twinge of unfamiliar sadness humming through his voice. He took another sip of Cristal and looked out his office’s massive picture window. While he gazed across the tropical jungle that had become the capital of his multi-billion dollar empire, he wondered when he had last felt regret. He was familiar with disappointment because he had high expectations, but sorrow was new and uncomfortable.
When the buzz soun
ded from the desk behind him, he wished it hadn’t. Wished the sound was only in his head, wished it wasn’t reality. Reality meant giving voice to a decision no right mind would ever wish to make. Being the boss meant there was nobody else above him to make all the hard decisions. The responsibility was his alone.
Speaking of buzz, that’s what he needed right now. He slammed the rest of the Cristal down his throat, poured himself another. Wash down the bitter taste with more bitter taste. Get his head feeling warm. Back in the good old days, in San Fran, he would do a couple lines of coke before he hustled stiff-necked idiots in board rooms.
Boss Tanaka turned from the large window and pressed the button on his bare Mahogany desk. He adjusted his suit and ran his fingers over his bald scalp—an old habit from when he used to have a lot of hair.
Time changes people. It changes their hearts.
Like his wife, Izanami. She wanted to turn their empire into a reality television show. Maybe include all the activists who constantly protested his operation. “We could feed them to our jungle beasts!” she’d once said, smiling and rubbing her hands together in a way that could only be described as ‘diabolical.’
But it wasn’t just his wife who betrayed him, and he couldn’t blame her, anyway. She was pretty damn hot, but there were plenty of younger girls, and newer girls—black girls, Cambodian girls, Cuban, Texan, Alaskan—he had tasted pussy all over the world, and none of it was Canadian. For some reason, that idea cheered him, put a smile on his face.
He needed to smile. Right now, more than ever.
Dmitri Kresevich, the big, burly Russian, stalked into the room. The man couldn’t conceal his pride; he knew this day meant a promotion for him. Boss Tanaka thought of him as nothing more than a common ruffian, but the former KGB operative had been efficient. Always efficient.
A dozen men followed Dmitri into the room and divided into two squads, one against each side of the wall. He approached the desk, walking across the sparkling-clean floor that mirrored the light from the picture window, casting the room in a bright glow and rendering every man into the likeness of a shadow.
