by S. M. Wilson
Storm’s eyes widened. Every muscle in her body seemed rigid, her mouth open in shock. It took a few seconds before she clicked into defensive mode.
For the briefest of moments, Lincoln didn’t move either. “Galen?”
He couldn’t believe it. Galen was dead. At least, he should be. Last time they’d seen him was a couple of months ago when his arm had been bitten off by the T-rex. They’d all assumed he’d died.
Galen’s clothes were dirty and tattered, his eyes wild. Once clean-shaven, he now had a bedraggled beard. Where his arm used to be was a stump. A dirty, ragged wound. The stench was overwhelming.
In his remaining arm he held a thick tree-branch, which he was using as a club. He jumped towards Blaine, swinging madly, catching him on the side of the head. Blaine swayed, then fell.
Galen dropped the club and spun around, pulling a short axe from his waistband. He leaped towards Storm. “You left me!” he screamed. “You all left me!”
Lincoln kicked out at Galen’s arm as he brought the axe down towards Storm. Galen’s grip was strong, but the kick threw him off balance. He staggered to the side as Lincoln grabbed at Storm to pull her away.
But the fact he’d missed them just made Galen angrier. He swung madly, just as Blaine was getting back to his feet.
The axe caught Blaine by surprise, slicing the air at the side of his cheek.
Everything seemed to happen simultaneously, in the blink of an eye.
Blaine’s hand came up automatically, grabbing for Galen’s body just as the axe came back again and impacted the back of his head.
Storm’s knife flew through the air with precision, landing squarely in Galen’s eye. There was barely time for any noise.
“Dad!” yelped Jesa.
Lincoln couldn’t breathe. Galen’s swing had stopped dead, surprising even him. He lifted his hand, leaving the axe where it was as Blaine slumped forward. Then in slow motion, Galen fell backwards onto the ground.
Storm was frozen, still leaning forward, her hand open from releasing the knife. Lincoln looked from side to side, unsure of where to go first. Storm? Reban, knocked out from the blow to his head? Blaine with the axe in his skull? Motionless Galen? Stricken Jesa? Or Leif, still unconscious and bleeding?
Reban gave a judder. His leg twitched and he rolled onto his side.
Jesa collapsed next to her father. “Dad? Dad? Are you okay? It’s Jesa.” Her hands reached forward to touch him, then she pulled back, whimpering. How did you touch a body with an axe embedded in the head?
Galen wasn’t moving. Lincoln really wanted to go to Storm, but Leif was looking whiter by the second. He did what he should. He ignored Galen, but checked for a pulse in Blaine. Of course, it was absent.
One glance at sobbing Jesa told him he should leave her right now. He scrabbled on the ground and found the broad leaves that Reban had been carrying, grabbing them and pressing them firmly to Leif’s wound. He kept one hand there, grabbing his backpack with the other and pulling out one of the pots of ointment they’d acquired from Blaine’s shack. He stuck his fingers straight in the pot, pulling out a huge gloop of green. He lifted one leaf for a second and slapped the green ointment on it. Leif gave a groan as Lincoln tried to bind the leaves in place on his shoulder with some vines. Storm moved over beside him. Her eyes were wide. She pressed her fingers to the vine so Lincoln could tie a knot.
“You okay?” he whispered.
“I think I killed him.” Her voice was shaking. “I think I just killed someone.”
Lincoln tied off the vine and put his hand over hers. Her fingers were freezing. He leaned forward, talking low in her ear. “Storm, you did what you had to.” He glanced towards the two bodies still on the ground. Galen’s uninjured eye was wide open. It was clear he would never breathe again. Even if he hadn’t been dead, Lincoln knew he wouldn’t have done anything to help him.
Lincoln drew in a breath. “You might just have saved us, Storm.”
Part of him wanted to stay with Storm, but Jesa was hunched over the body of her father. The man who’d given them the potential cure for Lincoln’s sister.
Lincoln gave Storm’s hand one last squeeze as he moved over and put an arm around Jesa. “Help your…Reban, Storm. Make sure he’s okay.”
Jesa was shaking. Her whole body. Lincoln squeezed his eyes shut for a second as Blaine’s blood started to pool on the ground in front of them. He tightened his grip on Jesa as he stood up, pulling her to her feet and turning her away from the sight of her father’s body, back towards the bushes.
Reban pushed himself upwards. He still seemed semi-stunned. He rubbed his head and looked around. “What happened?”
His eyes fixed on the two bodies on the ground. His head whipped around, stopping as soon as he saw Storm taking a few steps towards him.
It was like slow motion. Lincoln imagined he could see every single cell in Reban’s body sigh in relief before his angry mask slipped back into place. He pointed at Galen and shook his head. “Who is this? Why on earth would he attack us?”
“It’s Galen,” Lincoln sighed. “Or, at least, it was.”
Reban wrinkled his nose as the stench of Galen’s old wound drifted towards him. “Galen? The Finalist? I thought he was dead.”
“So did we,” murmured Storm as she glanced around. She moved over to Jesa and put her hand on her arm. “Jesa, I’m so, so sorry.”
Jesa gave another sob and buried her head in her hands. Lincoln left her with Storm and went back to Leif, who was coming around.
He’d only just bent forward to help Leif up when there was a roar.
A familiar roar that sent a chill down his spine. “Move!” he yelled, sliding an arm under Leif and dragging him to his feet.
Reban grabbed both Storm and Jesa and started running. The rugged coastline offered no safe haven and the noise was coming from the trees behind them. Which left them running in the one direction they’d never gone before – towards the desert. The remnants of green were quickly replaced by prickly dead branches.
There was a thud behind them. Reban looked back, his eyes widening as he saw the T-rex erupt from the trees.
Lincoln was moving as fast as he could, but Leif was still dazed and weak from the pterosaur attack. He’d lost a lot of blood. Leif couldn’t run, his feet just stumbled along next to Lincoln’s.
Lincoln kept glancing behind him. “How did it find us?” yelled Reban as he ran. He was moving so quickly that Storm and Jesa could barely keep up.
Lincoln’s mind raced. He was thinking the same thing.
“The smell!” shouted Storm. “It must have been tracking Galen.”
Of course. Galen’s wound had stunk. The T-rex had proved its senses to them before. It was incredible that Galen had managed to evade it all this time.
Lincoln looked back again. The T-rex had paused next to the two bodies. It was nudging Galen’s body with its nose. Thank goodness. Leif was slowing him down more than he wanted to think about.
Reban stumbled slightly in front of him, pulling Storm sideways and shoving into Jesa with his other shoulder. “Right!” he shouted.
Lincoln had no idea why. But he didn’t have time to think about it. He just veered right. “Leif, come on. Try to help.”
They kept running, stumbling forward. Running on sand wasn’t easy. Sweat started to pour down Lincoln’s face. It was odd, even though they weren’t far from the coastline, as soon as they’d hit the desert, this whole terrain felt different. The heat around the jungle was humid, the heat here was starting to change. It was drier. More acidic.
Lincoln scanned the horizon. Sand dunes, with the occasional spurt of tiny green, or bare branches. Maybe he was missing something? True, he had most of Leif’s body weight on him. But where was the shelter? Where were they heading?
“Reban?” he spluttered out with the little breath he had left. “Where are we going?”
Reban’s head barely turned. He just kept running, dragging Storm and Jesa alongsi
de him.
Lincoln’s mind started to race. They should have headed to the coastline. They should have tried to double back to the jungle – at least then they’d have some coverage.
“Anywhere!” came the unhelpful shout from Reban.
It was the noise he heard first. That horrible thudding. That horrible, familiar sound. He held on to Leif tighter, pulling him along, their feet practically tangling with each other.
He wouldn’t look back. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to know. He’d seen the inevitability. He knew exactly what a T-rex could do.
There was a roar. More like a bellow. The thudding was getting louder, the noise closing in around them.
Sweat poured down his back and face. He tried to adjust Leif’s position, but his arm was aching from continually propping him up. He tripped. Both of them fell sprawling onto the ground.
Reban turned around, so did Storm. Lincoln could see the horror on her face.
He scrambled to try to pick up Leif. But Leif’s body was like a dead weight. Leif was still groaning. Still not completely with it.
The smell surrounded him. The signature stench of the Tyrannosaurus rex. That rancid, putrid smell of decaying flesh. For a split second he had a thought – was it animal or human flesh?
“Move, Lincoln!” screamed Storm. She was struggling, but Reban was holding on to her arm tightly, refusing to let her come back.
There was another noise. Different.
Now he had to turn.
For a few seconds, he didn’t understand what he was seeing.
The T-rex was on the sand, it was only a few sectars away. Another few paces and it would reach him and Leif.
But it wasn’t moving forward. Its tail was thrashing from side to side, as was its head.
Its feet seemed rooted in the sand. Stuck there.
But no, not stuck. Sinking.
The T-rex opened its mouth and roared, letting forth an even stronger gut-wrenching odour.
“Move.” Reban’s voice was low in his ear as the older man slid his arms under Leif and pulled him to his feet. Reban slung Leif’s arm around his shoulder and dragged him along.
Lincoln walked backwards slowly, still facing the T-rex. “What…what’s going on?” he asked.
Reban shot him a smile. “Quicksand, I think. Let’s just move before we find out first-hand.”
Storm and Jesa were at his side now. They all stumbled backwards, open-mouthed.
The T-rex was panicking. The more it thrashed, the more it sank. Its thick hind legs had now disappeared into the sand. The powerful tail was vanishing before their eyes.
The sight was mesmerizing. Lincoln kept glancing down at his feet, checking the ground they were on was actually firm. He turned to Reban. “How did you know?”
Reban shrugged. “I’d heard about the dry quicksand here. I literally felt it shift under my feet. That’s when I told you to go right.”
Storm stared at him. It was the strangest expression. “The book?” she asked.
Their gazes seemed to connect. A kind of acknowledgement. Lincoln smiled. They couldn’t see the similarities that he could. They couldn’t see how alike they were. Storm was too busy pushing Reban away to notice how connected they really were.
Reban gave the briefest nod. “The book.”
“Maybe not all parts need updating,” she added quietly.
The T-rex wasn’t giving up without a fight. Its body was now firmly encased in the sand. Its front arms clawed at the ground around it. It roared. It bellowed.
Storm touched Lincoln’s arm. “Maybe we should move? What if its calls attract other T-rexes? We don’t want to end up trapped.”
Jesa was still glancing in the direction from which they’d come. Lincoln cringed. He’d no idea if the T-rex had taken a bite out of either Blaine or Galen.
The T-rex lifted its head in the air, giving one last roar as the sand closed in all around it and it disappeared from view. It was so final.
They all took a deep breath.
“I want to go back,” said Jesa. “I want to bury my father. I want to say goodbye.”
Reban shifted position and gave Leif back to Lincoln, then leaned forward and took Jesa’s arm. His voice was authoritative. He sounded like a Chief Stipulator again. “No. I’ll do that. I’ll bury your father. I promise you. It’s time to get back to the bay. You should hurry, the ship will be there soon.”
Lincoln glanced at Jesa’s face then at Reban. “You know what, it will be easier if we help.” He gestured at Reban. “You might struggle on your own.” He pressed his lips together for a second, then glanced at Storm as he said the next words. “Let’s give Jesa a moment to say goodbye to her dad.”
But it wasn’t really Jesa he was thinking about, as Reban took her by the arm and led her away.
It was Storm.
It was amazing how fast you could dig when you had to. Leif wasn’t fit to help at all, so she, Reban and Lincoln quickly dug out the grave for Blaine’s broken body in a spot away from where Galen still lay.
As they laid Blaine to rest in the ground, Jesa sobbed openly, leaning forward and touching his forehead. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so, so sorry. I’m going to tell Mum and Caleb about you. How you survived out here. How brave you were. How resourceful.” She glanced at Storm and Lincoln with wide eyes. “And how you might be the person who helps create a cure for the blistering plague.”
Leif had his arm wrapped around Jesa. Storm wasn’t sure who was holding who up, but it didn’t really matter.
What did matter was the horrible feeling that was sweeping over her. How would she feel right now if it was Reban they were burying? How would she feel if he’d laid down his life to save one of them?
Lincoln’s fingers brushed against hers. “We would never have survived here without him,” she murmured.
Lincoln nodded. “I know.” He leaned forward and put his hand on Jesa’s shoulder. “You’ll never know just how much I appreciate what your father has done.” He gave a half-smile. “He’s shown that people can survive on Piloria. There is a chance for us here.” He glanced at Reban, obviously contemplating if he would be as resilient as Blaine had been. “And hopefully a chance for those left at home too.”
Lincoln spoke a little louder. “Just remember, Jesa, how much he loved his family. He kept the pictures of you all on his wall. He wanted to send messages home. He never stopped thinking about you.”
Jesa nodded as her tears dripped onto her father’s tattered clothes. From here, for the first time, with his head wound hidden, he did actually look peaceful. Storm signalled to Lincoln. They had to make tracks or they would miss the ship. He nodded and they started to slide earth back into the grave, followed by a range of stones on top.
When they’d finally finished, Jesa had stopped crying. She lifted her chin, and put her arm around Leif’s waist. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then added, “Now, let’s get off this damn continent.”
They all seemed to drift back along the beach towards the bay. No pterosaurs came near them, but one lay dead on the beach. Either it had washed up, or it had just died there.
There was no smell. The death was recent.
“Do you think it was us?” Storm asked.
“Not really,” answered Leif. “I’m not even sure if the last virus ended up in the watering hole – I dropped it when the pterosaur attacked me.”
“Maybe we didn’t need to plant the virus there,” said Lincoln. “Maybe the other team had already done it.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds. Reban tilted his head to the side. “How intelligent do you think these creatures really are?”
Storm frowned. “What do you mean?”
He held up his hands. “I mean, why did the pterosaur attack us in the first place? Do they have any memory capacity? Would they remember if other humans tampered with their watering hole? Would they associate that with the deaths of some pterosaurs?” He shook his head. “Are dinosaurs more intelligent
than we’ve been led to believe?”
Lincoln looked at him steadily. “I guess, over the next few months, you’ll find out.”
Every hair on her arms stood on end. Hours. That’s all they had left.
She couldn’t look at Reban right now. Blaine had survived here for nine years. It was possible. But Blaine had been different. He’d learned how to do new things. He’d learned how to adapt. Did Reban Don, Chief Stipulator, have that capacity?
Jesa’s hands were still trembling. She’d lost her father. Storm bent down and picked up some sand and watched for a few seconds as it trickled through her fingers. Yellow sand. Not like the sand back on Earthasia. That was darker.
She stood and pressed her hands into her hips, arching her back to stretch it, and taking a few moments to stare back across the terrain.
Grey cliffs, green land, dense jungles and the uncharted desert. She could look in every direction and see a different scene. In Ambulus City, everywhere she looked she would see grey, tall buildings. The only exceptions were the parliament building and the loch. But there were plans for the loch. Working in parliament meant she found out things she didn’t always want to know.
The ground surrounding the loch had been tested. It had been designated “safe”. Which meant in the next few weeks, building around the loch would start. It would soon be surrounded by grey buildings too. What would Milo think? Maybe it was best that he seemed to have already disappeared from the loch.
Lincoln put his hand on her back. “Storm? You okay?” He handed Leif back to Reban and hung back to stay with her.
She looked up. How much had he changed since she knew him? The determination was still there in his bright green eyes, but had they lost a little of their spark? His shaggy blond hair was a little shorter now and his skin paler.
She knew he would never stop fighting for his sister. And she admired that. Arta was worth fighting for. All the people with the blistering plague deserved a chance of treatment – a chance of survival.
