Dinosaur World Omnibus

by Adam Carter

  It all happened so fast I can barely understand that it happened at all. The image of the monster is burned into my mind: the crocodile head almost two metres in length attempting to tear into prey nowhere near so large. Suddenly our raft hardly seems big enough to combat the horrors of this lake.

  “Focus, Corporal!” Winter shouts and I realise I’ve fallen into a daze. Tightening my grip upon the rudder, I correct our course and try to put from memory the terrible thing which almost took Harper in one bite.

  My eyes fall upon the water and I can see a dark shape just below the surface. No longer is the beast hiding, and I can no longer believe it is just curiosity keeping its interest in us. I’m fully aware that water and fear are both agents of exacerbation, yet I estimate the shape circling the raft is somewhere in the region of eleven metres, with a large bulbous body, a seal-like tail and two powerful flippers pushing it through the water. That this thing is not a crocodile is obvious to me now, although what it could be I have no idea. The only water reptiles I know about are the plesiosaurs, and this doesn’t seem to fit the description. I’m under the impression they all had long necks for one thing, like that Loch Ness monster hoax.

  The shape disappears beneath the raft and we shudder once more as the thing strikes us. I’m entirely grateful for the military training we’ve all received in raft construction: I can’t help feeling if we were a group of scouts the only badge we’d be earning today would be the badge of being eaten by an extinct reptile.

  Gunfire tears through the air and I see Spring taking careful aim with her rifle. I can’t see a target but it’s not my job to take care of those sorts of things. A spray of water stings my face, but I ignore it, entirely focused on my job. I’m vaguely aware of a commotion towards Summers, can see something rising from the water, but there’s nothing I can do so I close my eyes to the sounds of gunfire and just hope Spring’s managed to kill the thing.

  The gunfire ceases, the water begins to calm once more, and after half a minute I realise there’s every chance Spring has indeed managed to kill it. I scan the water with my eyes, but can see no sign of any creature circling. Either Spring killed it or frightened it off to seek out easier prey. I look over to the rowers, but they don’t seem injured and are continuing their work. Both look more than haggard and neither is entirely happy about the situation, but there’s nothing they can do but continue to press on. My eyes track up to Spring, who seems tense but a little more comfortable than she was. Harper looks as though she’s going to vomit, perhaps has already, but she’s still in one piece and that’s the main thing.

  I think we may have beaten the beast.

  And then the raft all but shoots in the air as something smashes it hard from the underside. I hear wood splinter, see water gush through several large cracks, can hear people shouting, but feel nothing. My fingers are numb with cold, stuck to the rudder which is my lifeline; my eyes are stinging with lake water, my body heavy through a soaking. Gunfire tears the air once more, and I can hear a woman screaming but can’t identify who; in all honesty right now it could well even be Corporal Summer.

  Harper is suddenly coming towards me, sliding across the wood and in no control at all of her actions. Wood explodes behind her as a crocodilian maw erupts through the raft, snapping at her and missing entirely. Harper is half running, half falling, but I can see she’s headed for the rails. I can’t leave the rudder to save her, but it would be a damn fool extraction mission if we let die the person we’re extracting. Deciding in one moment that the rowers should be fine without me for a few moments, I release the rudder and leap at Harper, catching her about the waist and preventing her from tumbling over the edge.

  Wood cracks beneath us, knots untangle, and suddenly the ground beneath us becomes unstable, water sloshing our legs, slapping our faces and obscuring our vision. I can hear someone shouting at me, I think it’s Spring, and I snag the rail to keep the both of us aboard the raft. Harper’s gone limp in my arm and I know to release her is to lose her. A terrible strain tears through my other arm, but I cannot relinquish my hold upon the rail.

  Then the rail surrenders for me and I watch as the ropes snap, the wooden logs come apart and the part of the raft upon which I so precariously stand comes away. We strike the water a second later and I tighten my grip upon the professor. I don’t know whether she’s unconscious, but she certainly feels it, and I’m not going to just let her die; not even to better my own chances for survival.

  Flailing with my free arm I manage to catch hold of a log and try to drag myself atop it. The log bobs upon the uneven surface of the lake, going under and gasping for air as though it’s still alive. After a few seconds I’m still no closer to being upon that log and try to control my breathing. Training will kick in if I just allow it, although I’ve never had to fight a lake before. Forcing myself to concentrate, to work with the swaying of the lake instead of trying to fight against it, I wait until the most opportune moment before dragging the log once more. This time I’m able to throw myself across it, so that my belly’s clutching the log, my back facing the sun. I pull Harper up after me and just hope the log is sturdy enough to carry us both.

  The log dips into the water uneasily and I realise my plan’s just not going to work. I check on Harper again, but she’s still unconscious, so I have to work with what I have, not what I would like. There’s some vine trailing from the log, and I quickly put it to use, dropping myself back into the water and positioning Harper upon the log so her belly and chest are pressed against it. Quickly I tie the vine about her wrists beneath the water, doing the same with her legs. It will keep her securely upon the log, and just so long as it doesn’t overturn with her weight she won’t drown. Making sure of that will of course be my job. Removing the girl’s glasses, I shove them under the collar of my suit. Losing them wouldn’t be too good for her, and I might well need her eyes if the two of us are trapped here together for a while.

  Casting a speedy glance about me I can see the fog is lifting slightly, as though it was the creature causing such weather to begin with. I can barely see the raft continuing in the distance. It does not appear to have stopped for us, but then there’s every chance they haven’t realised they’ve lost us. Either that or they’ve still got problems with that animal. Which is the only thing which is going to keep the two of us alive. Now the immediate danger of drowning has passed I’m suddenly reminded of what put us here in the water to begin with. There’s no sign of that beast, and if it had noticed its success in throwing us off the raft I think it would have killed us both by now.

  The waves are slapping me in the face at every pass and I know I have to get us out of this place before I freeze to death. So far I’m treading water through instinct, but I can feel my body losing feeling and cast my eyes about for the nearest shoreline. I can just make out some trees to one side and head for there. Throwing the vines over my head I hold them in my armpits and fashion a very primitive rein. Pushing off, I put every ounce of strength behind my movements and slowly drag the log and Professor Harper along behind me. My body is screaming out that this isn’t going to be possible, my heart is beating furiously in a vain attempt to compensate for what I’m putting it through. My thighs are both numb and stinging at the same time, the muscles rejecting these foolish demands I’m placing upon them.

  I realise with a sinking feeling that this is going to take me a long time, but it’s the only way to keep Harper alive. Alone I would stand a much better chance at survival, but as I glance behind me to see the closed eyelids of the professor I realise I could never do that to her. In sleep she looks at peace, no different to anyone else. It’s the best time I’ve ever had with her, and I’m not going to ruin that by cutting the vine and letting her fall into the water. No matter how easy that would be.

  Pushing myself on, I keep the trees in sight and just pray I can make it there before my heart gives out.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I think I’m getting fed up with forests,
but Ceres is full of them. Even when we cut them down they bite us in the backside by allowing lake monsters to smash through, but maybe that’s just the forest getting its own back on us. It took the best part of an hour to reach the shore, and of course it was to find it lined with trees. I tried not to collapse as soon as I hit the mud and soil and somehow managed to cut Harper free of the log to drag her up into the cover of some of the closer trees. My head was pounding, my body burning with the heat of exertion, but I knew I couldn’t allow myself to surrender to my body’s wishes until I’d made sure Harper was alive. Lying her on the ground I carefully placed my ear to her chest to check her heartbeat. It was still going, and I smiled at the realisation since it meant I wouldn’t have to try to resuscitate her.

  It was at that point I believe I closed my own eyes and gave in to the wishes of my body. I had already put it through seven torments of hell and there was only so much demand I could place upon it before I let it have what it wanted.

  I awoke about an hour ago: enough time to put into cohesive order those events which occurred after I reached the shore. It’s strange how your brain doesn’t register everything it’s doing but always seems to record it for later evaluation. The human brain is a wonderful thing: I wouldn’t be much without it in fact.

  I have a fire going by the time Harper wakens. When I awoke I stripped off entirely to dry my clothes, my underwear being the first priority so I could at least be decent when the professor came around. Armour would have been the primary concern for a rational mind, but there’s no way I’m going to be parading in the nude before Harper, so the armour can wait. I keep my guns handy of course, knowing a well-placed shot would be enough to deter most predators even if the loud rapport didn’t prove sufficient. And if that daspletosaurus or one of its similarly-sized kin comes for a look I don’t think any amount of armour short of a tank-suit would do me much good.

  Harper wakes slowly, stirring and holding her head. Fright, pain and water pressure all play their part in her headache, I’m guessing, but she’s alive and should be grateful for that. Whether she will be I have no idea, but then I’m not a stuck-up Daddy’s girl so I wouldn’t know.

  She blinks, narrowing her eyes due to the pain in her head, and slowly takes in her surroundings. I say nothing, allowing her to come to her own conclusions in her own time. I carry on sitting there stoking the fire and trying to dry our clothes. She sits up slowly, and I can tell just by looking at her that she’s stiff, sore and in a whole lot of discomfort.

  “Hey,” she says weakly.

  I offer her a small smile. “Hey yourself. You OK?”

  She nods slowly, noticing the blanket I’ve wrapped her in as snug as a sleeping bag. It’s formed of lightweight material and is very, very thin. They’re handy things which are factory-packed to become no larger than a paperback novel. Handy to fit into a belt pouch and essential for every soldier considering how well they retain heat. I watch with a twinkle to my eye as she looks at the sleeping bag strangely, lifting the top to stare down at her own naked body.

  Her eyes snap up to me but I’m not looking at her any longer, my concentration back upon the fire. Yes, I took your clothes off, I think without comment. No, I didn’t dwell on what you looked like naked: it’s a rule of survival not to lie there unconscious in wet clothes. She does not say anything however, but does seem to hold the sleeping bag closer to her, as though I’ve intruded on some form of hallowed ground.

  I toss over her underwear, all dried and laundered. She doesn’t catch them, but takes them slowly, and they disappear into the sleeping bag as though to hide them from my sight will make me forget I just spent the past hour drying them for her.

  “We fell overboard,” Harper says. She doesn’t remember precisely what happened, perhaps didn’t even know fully at the time what was going on. She was perhaps even unconscious when she struck the water so no doubt she’s a little confused as to why she’s no longer on the raft at all.

  “We fell overboard,” I confirm, looking at her now. I expected to see defiant anger flaring her face that I had dared to place my hands upon her royal person. Instead I see nothing but a confused and frightened girl and I scold myself. Whatever her faults, Marigold Harper is still a young woman, little more than a child, and being attacked by prehistoric reptiles is not something which is ever going to go down well with her psyche.

  “I don’t remember anything,” she says, and I can see she’s desperately trying to work through what happened.

  Perhaps it’s time I threw her a bone and see whether she decides to bury it. “We fell overboard, I brought you here.” I shrug. “That’s about all there is to it really.”

  “You saved my life.”

  “Yes.”

  A pause.

  “Why?”

  Of all the responses I’m not sure I was quite ready for that one. Gushing gratitude was a long shot, but a grudging thanks might not have gone astray. Being asked why I saved her is like returning to the lake just to get a wet fish to slap in my face.

  “Why did I save you?” I ask, just for clarification that this really is what she’s asking.

  “You could have died.”

  “I’m a soldier. It might sound cliché, but I do have to protect people.”

  “But you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.” I realise as I say the words that they’re true. “I don’t like people like you, Mary. I don’t like people who throw themselves into bad situations because they know other people are going to come along to help them out of them. But that doesn’t mean I hate you. And you didn’t mean to be thrown off that raft. What did you expect me to do, just stay at my rudder and watch you tumble over the side?”

  Her eyes widen then as she realises something else. “You mean you fell overboard because of me?”

  Uncomfortable isn’t the best word to describe what I’m feeling right about now, but I’m not sure a better word’s been invented. She’s about to gush after all, and I’m not quite ready for that from her.

  “Can we not talk about it?” I ask, certain this will please her also.

  Her eyes become hard, her jaw tenses and I’m oddly aware she’s fighting back tears. Angry tears which really have no meaning here. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”

  All right, maybe she’s not going to gush. “What? Why?”

  “Because I wouldn’t have.”

  “Well you’re not a soldier. You’re a botanist.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  I’m not sure how this conversation turned so weird, but I feel more exposed before this girl than I’ve ever felt before anyone. “Here,” I say, tossing her glasses over. “Figured you might not want to lose these.”

  She holds them in her hand, staring at them as though I’ve just given her the secret to eternal youth. “You saved my glasses.”

  “They would have fallen off your face otherwise.”

  “You saved my life because it’s your job.” She meets my eyes and I can see she’s confused, almost angry, and certainly still on the verge of tears. “No one back home would care about my glasses.”

  It’s an odd statement. “No, but you do.”

  “That was ... kind of you.” The words are simple, but the way she says it one would think I’d just saved her pet from drowning instead of her glasses.

  “Like I said, I don’t hate you.” The whole non-gush is making me more uncomfortable than ever, and I focus my attention once more on drying out the clothes.

  “Did you get that because of me?”

  I look down to my chest. There are dirty red and black marks under my arms, which incidentally are so sore I’m finding it difficult to put my arms down by my sides. There’s a corresponding thick slash across my chest which has even started to bleed, although I’ve applied some salve to it already.

  “Rope burns,” I say. “Don’t worry about them.”

  “Did you get them because of me?”

  I look at her again. Her eyes are
tight, her demeanour more mature than I’ve seen from her before. It’s almost frightening, this change in her, and I’m not sure I didn’t prefer it when she was lying there unconscious. Maybe I’d even prefer it if she was gushing right about now.

  “Don’t worry about them,” I reiterate and hope that’ll mark the end of the discussion.

  The silence descends once more and I busy myself through it by playing with the fire. I don’t normally feel this uncomfortable talking to people, but Harper’s mood towards me seems to change too much for me to understand her. That she hasn’t thanked me yet is something of which I am fully aware, although I can’t help but suspect there’s something more to her reasons than whatever I’m assuming.

  She’s shivering in the sleeping bag, but it has nothing to do with the cold. It doesn’t matter what I think of this young woman, or what she thinks of me. No one deserves to be chased around by monsters. Leaving the fire I move across to her, crouching on my haunches. She doesn’t even seem to notice, and I can see at last just how terrified she is. I reach out and place a comforting hand to her face, allowing my own warmth to infuse through her body.

  “You’re alive,” I tell her at last, my words gentler than even I had expected. “You’re alive, and I’m alive. And so far as we know everyone else in my unit’s still alive. Nothing else matters, Mary. So long as we all get off Ceres alive, none of this matters at all.”

  She looks at me, our eyes closer than they’ve ever been. She’s still afraid, still hateful, although now I’m this close to her I can see it’s self-loathing. Whatever she’s going through she blames herself. Probably because it’s all her fault we’re even here in the first place, but I’m not tactless enough to tell her that to her face. Maybe once we’re all out of this mess alive, but not here, not now. Not while we’re both lost in the jungle on a world filled with monsters.

  I hold her to me, pressing her against my chest, and her resolve breaks. She sobs uncontrollably and I set my own resolve, knowing I could very easily join her but that I have to be strong for the both of us, else we’re going to die here at this lakeside.