by Jack Castle
He remembered how Maddie used to crawl into their bed at night when she was scared from a nightmare or a television show she probably shouldn’t have been watching. And that got him thinking about Tessa. His stomach turned at the thought of leaving her behind. What if she was still down in the underground tunnels? Should they go back and search?
Maddie rustled beside him, and then snuggled closer. No. They had barely escaped the tunnels last time. The first thing to do was to get Maddie out of whatever this place was, and get her home safe. That’s what he would want Tessa to do if their roles were reversed. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.
Tess, where are you?
As he drifted off to join Maddie in deep slumber, and Barnaby began to snore even louder, none of them heard the bushes rustling outside.
Chapter 19
“Dinosaur”
Buzzing noises.
That’s what George heard as he climbed the long flight of stairs toward consciousness. Eventually the insanely loud buzzing noises in his ears finally ceased.
In addition to his throbbing head and nauseated stomach, he felt a cool breeze flow across his stiff inert body.
George opened his eyes and saw the bottom-side of the bunkbed above him. It was all starting to come back to him now. Part of him had secretly hoped he would have woken up in the master bedroom of his beachfront home in Pensacola. And Tess would be sleeping delicately beside him.
Instead, there was an obese accountant sleeping in the adjacent bunkbed, snoring so loud it was ridiculous.
George sat up, albeit slowly. His muscles were so heavy and sore he felt as though a professional boxer had worked him over in his sleep. His cheek ached where one of Lady Wellington’s henchmen socked him good, and when he swung his legs over the side of the bed the stabbing pain in his thigh reminded him of the knife wound in his leg.
Why does it always feel worse the next morning?
With a groan he rose to his feet, but in the process he banged his head on the bunkbed overhead. He fought down a curse and rubbed his scalp profusely.
As the sting began to slowly wear off he scanned the interior of the bunkhouse. Barnaby was still out cold but Maddie was nowhere to be found. George could see where his daughter had been sleeping in the bed beside him, and for a moment he began to question whether or not she had been but a dream. Take it easy, most likely she’s in the bathroom or exploring upstairs; she’s a good kid and would never wander off outside. At least that’s what he told himself.
He was about to shout for her when the bright sunlight in the windows beckoned him to look outside. Now that it was daylight he could see a lot more details. For example, the steel walls encircling the compound weren’t entirely impervious, as previously thought. George could see alien-looking fauna, the likes of which he had never seen before, punching through the wall in various places, their vines sprawled across the thick interior walls like a spreading cancer. (Tessa’s voice suddenly popped into his head, her tone sweet and soothing.) ‘George, you need to find our daughter. You need to keep her safe.’ He could almost imagine her standing at the window beside him. Heeding her advice he leaned his forehead to the window and checked the front gates of the compound to see if they were still secure. What he saw caused a wave of panic strong enough to seize him.
Maddie!
George barely glimpsed his daughter (with her dog stuffie clutched in her arms) as she disappeared through the cracked-open door of the main entrance.
Although it had been less than two minutes since awakening he cursed himself for not thinking about his daughter’s well-being sooner.
“Maddie!” He shouted through the window after her, but he wasn’t really expecting an answer; he was still inside and she was already beyond the gate. Knowing Maddie had inherited her mother’s curiosity and his recklessness in equal measures, Maddie was probably headed back toward the gas station and gift shop to do a bit more exploring.
His homemade spear was leaning against the wall. He snatched it up and shouted, “Barnaby, get up!”
The obese accountant mumbled something about wanting to sleep for five more minutes, smiled, and drifted back to sleep.
“Barnaby, I said… wake up!” George threw a pillow at Barnaby’s head for good measure. The pillow bounced off the former accountant’s face and he woke up choking on his own saliva.
Not wasting a second longer, George raced for the exit as fast as his sore and broken body would allow.
Outside, George called out again, “Maddie!” This time he was louder and he could hear more urgency in his own voice. He ran down the wide steps and across the compound’s courtyard.
Stopping outside the main gates and not seeing her, he cried out once more, “Maddie!” If anything happened to that little girl, I don’t know what I would do, he thought, and then in the same thought, I don’t care how old she is, I am going to spank her little behind for running off without me.
“Maddie,” he shouted again, negotiating the doors and running out into the middle of the street.
Still nowhere to be seen he heard, “Over here, Daddy.” It was his daughter’s teeny-tiny voice, coming from far away.
George scanned the gas station and gift shop again. Still nothing. “Over here, Dad.” The moment he saw her, a tidal wave of relief rushed into him. Shielding his eyes from the rising sun, he saw Maddie standing on a muddy embankment of a wide stream that ran behind the gas station and gift shop.
“Maddie,” George began, sighing with relief that his daughter was not only alive and well, but actually looked as though she were having a good time standing next to the river. “Maddie, you shouldn’t have run off like that. You scared the bajeezus out of me.”
Wide-eyed, Maddie said, “Dad, you’re not going to believe this, but I think… I saw… a dinosaur.”
He was about to say something akin to, ‘That’s crazy’, or ‘Get back inside’, but then he saw the oversized tracks in the mud. Kneeling down , George studied the large three-toed footprints in the muddy embankment. They were at least twice the size of bear prints he had seen once on Kodiak Island--better known as ‘Bear Island’--in Alaska.
“I think I’ve seen this movie,” he mused under his breath.
George was about to turn away when a glimpse of movement caught his eye. Maddie saw it too.
“See, I told you. I told you I saw a dinosaur.”
Not daring to move, George stood motionless. In the stream, not thirty feet away, was a living, breathing dinosaur. Near the opposite shore it was standing in about three feet of water on two thick hind legs. George wasn’t sure how they had missed him. Perhaps it had something to do with how the dinosaur’s skin blended right in with the forest behind him. The thing was at least ten feet tall, had tiny forelimbs, and sported a tall, rounded fan-shaped crest on its head that reminded George of an Elvis pompadour. The fin continued down the length of its back and ended along its long tail.
Tapping a large book with colored pictures Maddie said, “I think it’s a Corythosaurus.”
“Where’d you get that book?” George asked incredulously.
“In the gift shop, while you guys were sleeping, like for-ever.”
If the dinosaur was a fake, it was a good one. George could see the rib cage flex as the creature breathed. And the way it chewed its food in its duck-billed mouth reminded George of the way a cow incessantly chews its cud.
“We need to go.”
“Why,” Maddie asked, using that whiney voice, the one she usually only reserved for him and knew better than to try it with her mom.
“Because I said so, that’s why,” he said curtly. Who knew what was lurking beneath the surface of the river, or beyond the shadows of the trees? George imagined an enormous water creature lunging out of the river and snatching up Maddie in its array of multi-toothed jaws before wriggling itself back into the depths of the stream. After everything they had seen so far? Sure. Why not?
“Dad, It’s okay,” pointing t
o a picture of the creature in her book, she added, “See? It’s a leaf eater. It doesn’t eat meat.”
“Yeah,” George said. “Who is to say that there isn’t a meat eater lurking around looking to eat a leaf-eater.”
As though for emphasis, a distant crash rose from the jungle. It was so loud a flock of iguana-looking birds erupted from a canopy of trees and took flight.
Yep. It was time to grab Maddie, and drag her butt back to the safety of the compound. Maybe he and Barnaby could get that old safari truck running and drive the heck out of this place. Down the road, they could find some real help, call the cops, the military; somebody needed to be told about this freak show.
Another menacing roar from the jungle, this one closer this time, was a harsh reminder that they were still out in the open, defenseless.
“C’mon, honey,” George said, taking Maddie by the hand, trying to keep the fear out of his voice and getting ready to lead her quickly back toward the compound.
“Oh, thank God. You found her,” Barnaby breathed, huffing and puffing, and sweating profusely from running for what had to be less than fifty feet.
His old instincts kicking in, George realized the jungle noises had gone quiet. Barnaby started to say something else but George shushed him. Suddenly, from downriver they all heard an eerie sound, like the bleating of a drowning elephant. This time, even the Corythosaurus picked up its head nervously. He quickly swallowed his leafy breakfast and dashed off into the woods. Feeling the adrenaline surge through his veins, George watched as a second dinosaur crashed through the jungle on the opposite side of the river. This second dinosaur had a broad beak and armored head. Its heavily armored back had thick plates and bony horns all the way down to its clubbed tail.
George guessed the length to be at least twenty feet, and about the size and width of a large truck. Without tearing his gaze from the new arrival he asked Maddie in a harsh whisper, “Your book say anything about that?”
“Let me check,” Maddie said, already flipping pages. “I think it’s a Euoplocephalus, You can tell by the club-shaped tail. It’s just like the fossil we saw back in the canyon last night."
“How’d you,” Barnaby started to ask, but then saw Maddie holding an open book of Dinosaur identification she had taken from the gift shop.
“Does it say anything about whether or not those things eat meat?” Barnaby asked.
Smiling broadly Maddie answered, “Says he’s a herbivore.”
Barnaby wiped some more sweat from his forehead and muttered, “Well, that’s a relief.”
A sly grin slid across Maddie’s face. “That doesn’t necessarily mean it doesn’t eat meat.”
Barnaby’s face fell. Then realizing she was just teasing him he replied dryly, “Oh. Hah-hah.”
George felt uneasy, vulnerable. He had seen this movie before. Everyone’s laughing and joking, and then the terrible dinosaurs show up and start eating everyone. “Alright, fun time’s over. Let’s find something in the gift shop to cook for breakfast and head back to the compound.”
Before they could, an extremely strange and loud trumpeting sound was heard in the distance. George had never heard the Arc Angel Gabriel’s horn but if he did, he imagined this is what it would sound like. Two more mighty blasts were heard, and before the echo of the last one died out completely they could hear the frantic beating of insanely loud drums.
Laughter ceased. Barnaby’s face went ashen. “Wait. I know that sound. No… no… no…” he kept repeating.
“What is it, Barnaby, what’s wrong?” George asked.
“We have to get out of here. We have to hide.”
“Why?” George yelled out after him.
“The Gatherers!” Barnaby shouted back over his shoulder. “The Gatherers!”
Running far faster than George would’ve thought the man capable of, George watched Barnaby sprint off through the trees. “Barnaby, where are you going? The compound’s the other way.”
But it was too late. Barnaby was gone. And as if he also knew better, so was the club-tailed dinosaur.
The trumpets sounded again and this time they took on a more musical note allaying any fears that it was some ginormous creature ready to devour them. So why did it scare Barnaby so badly? And where it was coming from? It sounded like it was coming from… everywhere.
Maddie was the first to realize where the bleating horns and beating drums were coming from.
Pointing her tiny forefinger toward the heavens she breathed, “Dad, look.”
When George lifted his gaze skyward, the source of the noise was already beginning to block out the sun.
Chapter 20
“Gatherers”
The floating barge was massive.
At first glance George thought his eyes were deceiving him, but a craft (for lack of a better word), about the size and shape of a football field, was hovering approximately thirty feet in the air above them. Floating wasn’t the right word either, at least not to George. Whether in the water or the air, a floating craft would bob up and down. Yet this thing was moving across the sky perfectly level, like a fixed object--yet underneath there was nothing visible to support it.
Mirroring his own thoughts, Maddie asked, “Is it a blimp? And what’s keeping it up there? I mean, there’s no motor noise or wind from rotor blades. Nothing. It’s just so still.”
“Let’s find out.” George walked forward, hands outstretched, half expecting to run into an invisible wall or post.
“Wait, Dad,” Maddie cried. “Who are those people on the edges?”
It was the way Maddie said the word ‘people’ that concerned him most. As if she weren’t really sure they were human.
To block out the daylight and see better George cupped his hands around his eyes and focused on the hovering barge’s edges.
Powerful men stepped onto short diving boards and, after a quick prep, leapt off into the void in a perilous nose dive. Screeching noises accompanied them as they plummeted to their deaths.
Maddie gasped. George put a hand on her shoulder.
But it was soon apparent the men had bungee cords trailing behind them attached to their ankles. The bungee cords, which looked more like brown vines, lowered them all the way to the surface. Still upside down, the men would gather things--like tools, foodstuffs, anything of value within easy reach--and then spring back up with loot in hand.
There was a slight hesitation before one of the men rose back up, and George and Maddie could see the men weren’t really men at all. They were monsters. Each was half the width of a normal man, but at least seven feet tall. And despite how skinny they were their limbs were sinewy and impossibly strong; George saw one pick up a barrel of oil and pull it back up with him with ease. At first George thought they were painted in some sort of clay paint; some in forest green, others in ocean blue, and another in fiery red. But when one bungeed down next to them and grabbed a discarded wheelbarrow George could see the clay paint was actually their skin.
Maddie screamed, gaining the attention of one of the-- What did Barnaby call them? Oh yeah, the Gatherers. It turned its hairless head toward them and George could see the creature had no mouth or nose, only a large v-shaped hole for what he assumed were its eyes.
He grabbed Maddie’s hand in his and they ran.
But outrunning dozens of repelling “Gatherers” proved problematic when their vessel was the width of a football stadium. And now that they they’d found her, they seemed to be concentrating their efforts on capturing Maddie.
They weaved around the gas pumps, past the safari truck, and headed toward the compound. George could only hope the building might provide some protection. He steered Maddie around one upside down Gatherer snatching for her legs and kicked away two more.
As they ran for the compound, several Gatherers dropped down in middle of the road and waited for them as though sensing where they were headed. George glanced skyward. The hover barge was still moving. They only had to outlast them for another
dozen or so minutes and they’d be gone. He remembered the safari truck behind them.
“C’mon!” he shouted, pulling her back toward the cab of the truck.
“Daddy, I’m scared,” she cried, running after him.
Dodging dropping Gatherers and grasping elongated limbs, they somehow reached the truck. George turned his back on his daughter only long enough to open the truck’s heavy metal door.
But a moment was all they needed.
“Daddy!” she cried as her small hand was ripped from his grasp and she flew up into the heavens, her arms and legs outstretched toward him.
George’s heart sank into his stomach. “Please, God. No.”
He dodged out of the way as another Gatherer tried to grab him. A second repelled to the floor but this time he didn’t hesitate to go back up. This time the elongated man flipped over expertly to land on his feet and stretched out his arms toward him like Frankenstein’s monster in the old black-and-white monster movies George had watched as a kid. The Gatherer, this one a green one, towered over George by at least a foot.
Remembering he still had his spear George held it in both hands now like a Bo staff. Once the elongated man was close enough George jabbed him in the face with the non-lethal end of the pole. While the stretched-out man was stunned, George struck him again in the knee. The Gatherer howled in pain as his kneecap cracked sideways. So they can be hurt. The elongated fellow didn’t fall to the ground though; instead he hobbled on one knee, grabbed his vine-bungee thingy, gave it two deliberate tugs, and within a second, the injured Gatherer rose skyward, feet first.
As George watched the injured creature lift to the heavens he saw another fiery red one dipping toward him. Before he arrived George used the bumper of the safari truck to quickly climb onto the hood, and when the red Gatherer rocketed past him, George grabbed the vine in one hand and gave it a swift tug. As predicted, the vine locked into place, and instead of rising back up the Gatherer went face first into the pavement with a loud CRACK. Before the Gatherer could recover George looped the vine around one hand while sawing below it with the other with the blade of his spear.
