Prehistoric: (A Prehistoric Thriller) (Bick Downs Book 1)

by Michael Esola

  Corstine had to find a safe way out, he simply had to, but, more importantly, he needed to see his son again.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  A sharp stabbing pain brought Downs back, and as if being awakened violently from a nightmare, he shot straight up, as if in bed, and sucked in a huge but necessary breath.

  “Holy shit,” the words spilled out of his mouth while breathing like there was no tomorrow.

  In an instant it all came flashing back to him. He saw himself falling helplessly back and away from the boardwalk as something monstrous swiped at him from above, and then after that, the memory went black on him, like it had been wiped or erased from its very existence.

  Downs let out a quiet gasp of agony, and he remembered the sharp intense pain from behind. It was hard to imagine he had forgotten it had been there in the first place. He reached into his back pocket and extracted a claw, a killing claw to be exact. It was from the late Cretaceous predator, Velociraptor. Downs had always carried this dinosaur’s killing claw in his back pocket, figuring if he ever got confronted in a dark alley back in the real world, it would be his last line of defense. He had always loved dinosaurs, and he had been carrying it in his back pocket since his early teen days. Downs’ mind rotated suddenly to his quaint little action sports store back home. He had to get back there. He had big plans for the store, plans for how to get it to turn a profit and plans for how to incorporate his physical brick and mortar action sports store into a more hip and sleek place that would be able to survive in the age of e-commerce and corporate titans like Amazon. However, for now he continued to fumble the killing claw nervously in his right hand.

  Slowly, with eyes beginning to come into clearer focus, he began to take in his surroundings. Downs could see the tall tualang trees that extended and grew all around him, and as he took in more he could see that the massive trees surrounded him on all sides in a tight circle. Rather gingerly he stood to his feet, tucking the claw into his back pocket once again. Nothing seemed broken, albeit a few incredibly sore spots primarily around the rear end region, but all appeared to be in good working order. The ground beneath him was stable yet gave off the air of being soft, fluffy, and cushiony all at the same time.

  Downs took a few cautious steps forward, realizing in a moment of stunned confusion that he was walking on bedded down leaves, fronds, vines, branches, twigs, and just about everything else that the rainforest could offer up. As wild and crazy as it sounded, it looked like he was in a nest, and as he marveled at the sheer size of the very thing upon which he was standing, a quick mental calculation tabbed it at some ninety five feet in width and equally as long. The nest was weaved in and out of about a dozen or so of the massive tualang trees. It was enormous and almost too much to comprehend, although everything that had happened to Downs and the others high atop Corstine’s boardwalk could be construed as not believable.

  Instinctively, Downs began to scan the nest for eggs, eggs that would ensure the very survival of the species itself. He had no way of knowing whether the creatures gave birth to live young or did so via the laying of eggs. It was that first thought that made his senses once again go on heightened alert, the idea of live and deadly young, ready to stalk and take down prey even in their sheer infancy.

  His eyes suddenly shot upward, in the direction from which he had fallen. He could see the boardwalk and the opening through which he had slipped as he must have fallen some forty feet. The soft, cushiony bed of leaves and materials in the nest broke his harrowing fall. The nest had saved his life. He also knew that the nest had the ability to ultimately end his life as well.

  Downs looked up once again and resisted the urge to call out, realizing that if someone were still up there, they probably would have been doing the exact same thing to him. It was then that he began to realize the long shadows that the jungle was beginning to cast, signaling late afternoon. Downs knew that he had been knocked unconsciousness. Had he been out several hours or several minutes? He scratched his head and let out a deep breath. He had no clue. The days, hours, and minutes were all melding into one long and confusing life age.

  And where were the others? What the hell had happened to them? He feared the worst for his friends and colleagues.

  The hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle, possibly in an effort to prepare him for something. Downs had learned over the years to trust his gut instinct, trust what his body was telling him, trust what his nerves were telling him, but, most importantly, to trust himself. And right now his entire body was screaming that he was not alone in the nest.

  Quickly, his eyes did their best to scan the area, turning up nothing. His body was screaming for him to listen. The hairs on the back of his neck continued to stand straight up, and he knew, just knew, that something was with him.

  Downs had just begun to reach into his back pocket to remove the velociraptor claw, when, without warning; something rose up from behind him.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Beyond his hands still intently gripping the steering wheel, Corstine could see the grand staircase entrance to the boardwalk. He was no more than one hundred yards from it, the mere size of a football field, yet the objective may as well have been a million miles away. As Corstine swerved the Jeep, he tried to avoid the slashing attack by the teenager behind him, but it was too late. The creature’s already enormous and elongated talons had managed to puncture his back right tire.

  Corstine tried continuing to maintain control, but with what appeared to be effortless strength as well as the ability to change course of direction on a dime, the teenager spun itself and clawed down on the back left tire. It clamped down with vice-like power and punctured its thick rubbery core. Yet it didn’t stop there. With both of its three-toed paws, it dug deeply into the tire, while planting its back legs into the dirt road. It attempted to bring the still moving vehicle to a halt.

  Corstine’s gas-powered Jeep now had two flat tires. Still the vehicle continued on though. Corstine was shocked at the raw power of the creature as it felt as though he were having a tug of war with the teenage predator still clamping down on the back left tire.

  The teenager continued to pull with unbelievable power, like that of a world strong man in competition pulling a small plane or large bus. At one point Corstine felt as though the vehicle was actually in reverse, being pulled towards the teenager that possessed awe-inspiring power.

  Finally Corstine and the Jeep gave up the struggle and came to a complete stop, only some fifty yards or so from the staircase that led up to the boardwalk. Corstine’s hands remained firmly gripped on the steering wheel, as did the pistol, wedged between his left hand and the wheel. He stared straight ahead for a moment, as if he had just been pulled over by the highway patrol and was trying to play it cool.

  Corstine knew better than to make any sudden movements, and he certainly knew better than attempt to make a run for it. He would be tracked down before he even began. Ever so gingerly he switched the gun from his left to his right hand, and he adjusted the driver side mirror with his now free left hand.

  He breathed softly as he could see the creature, still crouched down by the back left flattened tire, as if guarding its kill. Corstine watched out of the driver side mirror as the creature began licking its paws with its forked tongue. Was it wounded? Perhaps it had suffered some cuts and scrapes during the all out battle to bring the heavy Jeep to a stunning halt.

  Whatever the case was, the teenager was not acting swiftly. Rather it took its time, still licking its wounds and behaving more like an animal than some type of blood thirsty monster. It was not acting malicious or giving off warning signs of an attack whatsoever.

  Meanwhile, Corstine continued to sit frozen. He wasn’t quite certain how he felt about the situation, having observed similar scenarios on safari in Africa, with lions feeding and hunting on the plains of the Serengeti. It felt all too familiar. There was a large predator just outside his vehicle. Yet despite that, it was not showing malice or
ill will towards him. Rather it just seemed to be going about its life as nature had always intended it to do.

  Corstine continued to watch from the mirror as the creature picked itself up off the ground and stood on all fours. He felt his senses on overload, eyeing the creature the entire time from the mirror. John Corstine’s heart skipped a beat as the creature suddenly locked its gaze onto his, staring the real-estate tycoon straight in the eyes via the driver-side mirror.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  “Keep quiet, brotha,” the voice whispered into Downs’ right ear, while an enormous and equally powerful hand covered his mouth, and seemingly most of his face for that matter. “Keep quiet or we’ll both be toast.”

  It had been a whisper, merely just a whisper, but the voice was none other than William Jamison’s, his unmistakable tone and command of the English language on full display.

  Jamison released Downs slowly from his paralyzing grip and watched as the man stumbled forward, immediately turning round to see him. It was odd seeing him there, and as Downs looked up at the man, he realized just how large and imposing Jamison’s 6’9” presence was.

  Jamison had both a confident and cocky glow about his face, but also one which hinted at the seriousness of the situation. Before Downs could even speak a word, Jamison cut him off.

  “No time for small talk, brotha. They’re all gone. I’m assuming the same for you on your end?” Jamison said.

  Josiah and Max suddenly popped into Downs’ head. He had been trying with every last shred of mental energy to put the image of Nat and what had happened to her out of sight.

  “I don’t know,” Downs replied. “It all happened so quickly when I fell.”

  Downs didn’t wait for Jamison to reply and spoke just as the big man was about to open his mouth. “We need to create a feeding frenzy. Something that will draw everything in, divert the attention to this place, and allow us to get up and out once and for all.”

  Jamison smiled and replied. “I thought you’d never ask. That dawned on me earlier today as well.”

  Downs remained emotionless. He wasn’t certain if Jamison had come up with the concept as he was insinuating, if he was simply lying through his teeth, or if he simply could not stand the idea of Downs coming up with a plan with which he was not intellectually capable of devising. Either way, as Downs continued to stand there still as a statue, none of that mattered. All that mattered now was that the plan was executed to the T.

  “Okay,” Downs said, bending down as if he were a coach sketching out the next team play. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  Jamison rolled his eyes to himself but bent down as well to have a look.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  The sound of something piercing and cutting through the air caught the attention of Corstine’s left ear, as if an object itself had just sailed by it, and quickly at that. Suddenly, Corstine heard howling, the howling of pain, the howling of a wounded animal.

  Corstine turned and could see the wounded creature with a brightly colored arrow sticking out of its side. It tried to pull the arrow out with its paws, but it was no use. The arrow snapped in two, allowing the broken shaft to fall to the ground, while the arrow itself still remained burrowed deeply within its victim’s body.

  The creature again howled in pain as it dug its oversized talons into the ground, digging and scratching as if that would offer some sort of pain relief. Next Corstine heard footsteps, the sound of footsteps coming down the grand staircase. He turned just as the next arrow pierced the air.

  The shot was an accurate one and hit the juvenile smack dab in its stomach region. Corstine swiveled his head back towards the footsteps, and once again another arrow pierced through the neck of the juvenile. There was no fight, no struggle, as the creature keeled over to its side with a thud.

  The figure continued to race towards the gas-powered Jeep, and before Corstine could even process any of this, there stood his son, Jeremiah Corstine. Jeremiah had a large grin on his face, and for a brief moment, the two said nothing to one another, their eyes speaking what their lips would not.

  Jeremiah sprung forward into action, first slinging the bow over his shoulder and then sprinting towards the Jeep as Corstine opened the door. Corstine’s feet touched down on the dirt, and the two embraced in a big long and drawn out hug, still not a word being said as they remained suspended in silence.

  “Come on,” Jeremiah prompted, grabbing hold of his father’s shaking hands.

  He hurried and pushed his father forward, but Corstine headed off a few steps, then turned right back around towards the Jeep. His pistol--it must have dropped out in all the excitement. Frantically Corstine opened the Jeep door and quickly scanned the area with his eyes. It wasn’t in the side paneling of the door nor on the seat. Then Corstine saw it, wedged between the floor and the accelerator. Carefully, he reached in with his hand and extracted the weapon. He turned and faced Jeremiah, gave his son another all engulfing hug, and the two began to make their way towards the staircase. Corstine went first, doing his best to sprint, though it was more of a half ass jog with Jeremiah taking up the rear.

  When they were about forty yards away from the Jeep, Jeremiah stopped and turned around, the bow ready to fire at anything that caught his attention as he did a quick sweep of the area. There was the Jeep, and there was the dead creature at the back of the vehicle. Nothing caught his eye so he turned and began sprinting in pursuit of his father.

  Corstine’s feet had reached the grand staircase that opened up to greet would-be guests to his boardwalk creation. Quickly and doing his best, Corstine began to ascend the stairs towards where he hoped both he and Jeremiah could assume safety in his offices. Jeremiah, meanwhile, was in an all-out sprint now, covering huge amounts of ground with his broad and powerful runner legs. In no time he reached the bottom of the staircase and began taking three steps at a time with great huge bounds, the bow still clinging tightly to his side.

  He could see his father up ahead, slowing and struggling to keep up the pace that he had set. The sounds and grunts of carnage assaulted Jeremiah’s ears as the creatures were most likely ripping into one of their own back at the Jeep, but he didn’t bother to turn. Rather, he focused all his efforts on continuing to leap three stairs at a time. It wasn’t until the sounds of scuttling and footsteps rang out from the bottom of the staircase that Jeremiah finally forced himself to have a look back.

  The creatures had finally reached the bottom of the grand staircase as Jeremiah and Corstine continued to scramble their way up it.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  Jamison and Downs moved about in stone cold silence as the two of them fanned out to the farthest reaches of the nest. The ground beneath them was surprisingly firm, seeming to be built for more than just the weight of two humans.

  Downs slowly began taking in what his eyes had originally not. On the ground and seemingly everywhere was what appeared to be all that the jungle had to offer up. There were scattered leaves of every shape and size, vines, thorns, and insects, some crawling and moving about while others were dead. Only their exo-skeletons remained as a subtle reminder of their once existence. The entire nest was a tightly wrapped and wound ball, weaving in and out of the towering tualang trees.

  As Downs moved further out and away from Jamison, he could see bits and pieces of dead butterflies, bats, and what looked like the wings of several types of tropical birds, the likes of which he could not identify. Then Downs began to see teeth, small teeth everywhere. He felt a shiver come over him. They were human.

  Downs looked back towards Jamison who was busy crouching down in order to examine something. He watched the big man for a second.

  What the hell’s he doing? Downs thought to himself.

  Jamison was holding something, and he appeared to be examining it, but his large and broad back prohibited Downs from getting a better view. Turning his attention away from Jamison, Downs continued to move out to one of the far corners of the nest
. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, just in time to witness a butterfly as it gently landed on his right shoe. His eyes scanned down for a moment and then back up towards what had originally stopped him in the first place.

  Swatting aggressively at his face, Downs managed to shake the flies that had been buzzing in and around his head. They were rogue flies, possibly scouts from the huge black swarm that was up ahead. As he moved closer and closer, the overwhelming smell of dead and decaying flesh stung his nostrils. Eventually the black mass of swarming flies thinned just enough for him to peer inside that over which they had been swarming.

  Eyes, hollowed-out eyes, stared lifelessly back at him from inside the buzzing darkened cloud of flies. Downs recoiled and almost choked on his own spit, the sight at what he was looking almost too much to take in.

  He must have caused a slight disturbance because he could hear Jamison moving about behind him. He didn’t bother to look back, rather he just kept his eyes transfixed on the gruesome and mutilated corpse of Nat Kingsworth, her hollowed-out eyes staring back at him as if they were calling out for help.

  Jamison’s large hands touched the back of Downs. Jamison did not move from behind him and stood deathly still, whispering in his ear.

  “Nothing we can do for her now, bro,” Jamison said.