by Alex Scarrow
Liam pointed through a thin veil of leaves. ‘Blood …
lots of it, by the look of things.’
Whitmore swal owed and looked goggle-eyed again.
‘Oh boy,’ he whispered. ‘Oh boy. Oh boy.’
Franklyn joined them. Unlike Whitmore, his eyes lit up with joy. ‘Excel ent!’ he gasped. ‘Looks like something made a kil .’
Whitmore swal owed. ‘That’s exactly what I’m worried about.’ He looked at Liam. ‘I suggest we quietly back up and –’ But before Whitmore could nish Franklyn pushed his way forward through low sweeping fern fronds and into a smal clearing.
‘Oh, this is so awesome! Come on!’ he cal ed to them.
‘We must have frightened the predator o !’
‘We must have frightened the predator o !’
Liam looked at the teacher and shrugged. ‘Wel , I suppose if we’ve scared some dinosaur away, the last thing we ought to start doing now is look frightened ourselves. We’d bet er brass it out, right?’
By the look of Whitmore’s stil goggling eyes, he’d have been much happier with the backing quietly away plan. Liam left him thinking it over as he stepped forward through the fern leaves and into the clearing. Franklyn was squat ing over the eviscerated ribcage of some large beast, wrinkling his nose at the fetid smel of shredded organs, pul ed out and splayed across the jungle oor.
Liam felt something stir and rol queasily in his empty stomach. ‘Jay-zus, that’s disgusting.’
‘A recent kil by the look of it,’ said Franklyn, prodding the large carcass with his ngers. Shreds of tat ered muscle tissue swayed from the ends of the ribs as the body rocked slightly. Lam, Jonah and Whitmore emerged behind Liam.
‘Oh, man, that’s total y gross!’ said Jonah, holding his nose at the pungent smel of death.
‘I real y think we shouldn’t hang about here,’ said Whitmore. ‘Whatever did this might stil be close by.’
Franklyn nodded and smiled. ‘Exactly! Maybe we’l actual y get a chance to see something!’
Liam looked around the dense foliage, wary that some large creature with very sharp claws and teeth might just be watching them now. ‘You know, I think Mr Whitmore’s got the right idea. Maybe we should probably back o .’
got the right idea. Maybe we should probably back o .’
‘Look at these marks on the hide,’ said Franklyn, ignoring them. ‘The lacerations, lots of them, smal ones, not large like a rex might do.’ He studied the ground. ‘See?
’ Liam looked at where he was pointing and saw several three-pronged indentations across the ground. And then he spot ed something long and curved like a shhook on the ground. He stooped down and picked it up.
‘What’s that?’ asked Franklyn.
Liam shrugged. ‘Looks like some sort of claw.’
Franklyn couldn’t help himself. He snatched it out of Liam’s open palm.
‘Oh my God! That’s … that’s a claw, al right! Look, the serrated inner edge.’ He turned it over in his hand. ‘But it’s a weird shape, isn’t it, Mr Whitmore?’
Whitmore seemed more interested in leaving, but he quickly leaned over and inspected it more closely. ‘It’s certainly not the crescent shape you’d associate with a raptor or some other species of therapod.’
Franklyn grinned with excitement. ‘Maybe this is an unknown species?’
‘It’s possible,’ said Lam. ‘I mean, don’t they say something about we’ve only ever discovered the fossils of one per cent of the species that have ever lived on planet Earth?’
‘I real y think we should leave,’ said Whitmore. Liam nodded. He held out his hand. ‘May I have it back?’
back?’
Franklyn seemed reluctant to let it go. But after pul ing a face he passed it to Liam. ‘Cool nd,’ he ut ered. Liam smiled. ‘I’m sure you’l come across another.’
‘Yeah, probably … whatever that belonged to is smal . Probably pack hunters.’
‘Pack hunters?’ Jonah straightened up. ‘You know, I think Mr Whitmore’s right. Maybe we should go.’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Whitmore, smiling quickly,
uncomfortably. Looking around the clearing. ‘Wel , Franklyn, a fascinating nd. We can al talk about it on the way back.’
‘Pack hunters?’ said Lam. ‘Like raptors? You said there weren’t raptors!’
‘These aren’t. Look at the footprints … there’d be indentations from their sickle toe. No, these are some other species, maybe not even therapods. Something entirely di erent.’ He stood up. ‘This is so cool!’
‘Yes, wel …’ Liam looked at the others. ‘So now we know for sure we’re sharing this place with dinosaurs.’ He looked at the bu alo-sized carcass. ‘And now that we know there’s some bigger types we could hunt for food I think Mr Whitmore’s right – we ought to head back to the camp.’
Four heads bobbed enthusiastical y.
Franklyn sighed. ‘OK.’
‘Right, then.’ Liam gestured down the path they’d beaten. ‘After you, gents.’ They led quickly past him, Whitmore glancing awkwardly back over his shoulder as Whitmore glancing awkwardly back over his shoulder as he stepped by. ‘Actual y, I real y wish we hadn’t spot ed that,’ he said quietly, pul ing a face.
Liam knew what he meant. The poor beast, whatever it had once been, looked like it hadn’t just been kil ed for meat. The organs splayed out on to the jungle oor, the intestines dangling from loops of vine … it was as if the creatures that had brought it down had frolicked and played with the grisly remains – a gory celebration of the kil . The idea of an animal species capable of celebrating seemed somewhat disconcerting. It hinted at ritual. It hinted at intel igence.
Maybe they’re just messy eaters?
In the gathering stil ness, he thought he heard the softest click – like the tiniest twig snapping beneath impatient, shifting weight. He glanced back once more at the bloodsplashed clearing and wondered if predators’ eyes were cautiously eyeing him in turn from the cover of the dense green foliage.
Yel ow, unblinking eyes studied the curious creatures as they departed. Just a dozen yards away – no more than three or four strides from where the beast crouched – there were ve of these pale creatures the like of which he had never seen before. They made odd noises, not a mil ion miles away from the cranial bark he made when cal ing for the at ention of the rest of the pack. And these odd creatures moved in a not dissimilar way: upright, on long, developed rear legs, but far more slowly, sluggishly. developed rear legs, but far more slowly, sluggishly. The creature shifted position slightly, bobbing down lower to get a bet er look between the broad leaves of the fern he was hiding behind. These pale upright things, these new creatures … he wondered if this was the entirety of their pack, or whether there were more of them elsewhere.
They seemed harmless. They appeared to have no visible teeth, no slashing claws, nothing that signal ed any danger about them at al . Nothing that identi ed them as potential rival predators.
Except … except – the creature could see this – these pale things were clever. They appeared to work cooperatively, sharing tasks. Just like his pack did. He watched in absolute stil ness, his olive skin a perfect disguise among the varied greens of the jungle. He watched with intense eyes that faced forward, capable of binocular vision; capable of judging distance, range. A predator’s advantage.
These strange newcomers, these new creatures, also had eyes that faced forward. Another reason to be so very wary of them. Perhaps they too were predators of some kind, unlike the docile plant-eaters, whose eyes on either side of their heads were designed to detect potential danger from two directions.
Yes … these things had predators’ eyes. And yet they appeared ut erly defenceless, harmless and pitiful y slow and clumsy in the way they moved around the clearing. He cocked his head curiously. The long shhook-shaped He cocked his head curiously. The long shhook-shaped razor-sharp claws on its left front paw clacked together carelessly.
The last of t
he new creatures suddenly turned and looked back in his direction. It must have heard something, the snick of his claws. Incredibly the creature’s eyes looked directly at him – right at him – and yet seemed to see absolutely nothing. Its eyes panned slowly from left to right then nal y it turned and headed o after the others. The creature looked down at his claws: four of them, long and lethal, curled from the digits of one arm, three …
and a broken stump … from the other – damage caused many seasons ago ghting o a young male who had foolishly decided to chal enge his leadership. The chal enger had died, of course, and in a rage he had torn the body to ragged pieces in front of the rest of the pack as a lesson.
The claws usual y grew back. The young female who’d lost her claw today during the kil , she would have a new one before a new moon. But his stump had never regrown a claw. A constant reminder that his days as leader were numbered by how long he remained e ective.
Slowly and very lightly, Broken Claw stepped backwards, away from the fern leaves and further from the wel -lit smal clearing into jungle darkness. His powerful rear legs strong and agile – capable of incredible speed, but also able to move in almost complete silence. A simple thought passed through his mind – a thought not made up of words, but ideas.
not made up of words, but ideas.
The new creatures must be watched.
Instinctively he sensed there was something terribly dangerous about them. Until he knew exactly what it was, until he knew how weak or dangerous they could be, the new creatures should be careful y observed, studied, until he was sure he had the measure of them and then … then, when these things were least prepared, when they were certain these pale creatures had no concealed powers, they would be at acked and feasted upon. And the pack could celebrate their dominance once more as the quiet kil ers of this world, decorating the jungle with their organs, painting their blood on their hides.
His sharp teeth snapped together softly, and he resolved that patience, for the moment, was the correct course of action.
CHAPTER 29
65 mil ion years BC, jungle
Liam heaved a sigh of relief as he caught a glimpse of the raging river and the long slender trunk that bridged one rocky bank to the other. It appeared Becks had nished her work on the bridge. It could now be raised, courtesy of a crudely rigged counterweight of a bundle of logs. They were tied together and connected to a stout rope of a dozen twisted vines, which ran up and over the thick branch of a canopy tree that stretched a sturdy limb out above the river. The other end of the rope was tied round the end of their ‘drawbridge’, a thirty-foot trunk as straight as a javelin and a slender foot in diameter. It was thick enough to take their weight, one at a time, but not so heavy the supporting branch above would snap as it was raised.
One by one, they stepped on to the log, and cautiously inched their way over the tumbling froth a few feet below. Liam was the last one over and, as he anxiously awaited his turn, he scanned the wal of jungle behind him, wary that, being the last one on this side of the river, he might prove a tempting morsel for some hungry beast. But his turn came, and a few moments later he was on the far side with the others. ‘OK, let’s raise the drawbridge.’
the far side with the others. ‘OK, let’s raise the drawbridge.’
Between them they pul ed on the counterweight of logs, and with the creak of stressed vine rope and the branch above taking the burden, the bridge rose up until it was approximately at an angle of forty-ve degrees.
‘Good enough.’ Liam looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to head for the horizon and long dark shadows stretched across the river. Through the trees and tufts of bamboo thickets on their side of the river, from the direction of the clearing, they could hear the echoing hack of blades on wood: the others working on their camp, their home … a temporary home, Liam found himself hoping. The sound of activity was reassuring.
‘I hope somebody’s got the ket le on for us,’ said Liam. A minute later they were just stepping out into the broad clearing, keen to see what the others had managed to construct in their absence, when they heard a scream echo across the open space.
‘Uh?’ ut ered Lam.
On the far side Liam could see movement. Someone running. It was the girl Laura, running, staggering, stumbling to her knees, then back up on her feet. Behind her, pursuing with a swift purposeful stride, a gure al in black with aming red hair: Becks.
‘Whoa … cat ght,’ ut ered Jonah, grinning like an idiot.
‘Hey!’ Liam cal ed out. ‘What’s going on?’
Laura glanced his way and changed direction towards him. Becks was swiftly closing the gap. He noticed her holding one of their bamboo spears in one hand, the tip holding one of their bamboo spears in one hand, the tip bright red with a splash of blood.
What the …?
He ran forward. ‘Becks! What’s going on?’
Closer now, he could see a long gash down Laura’s left arm, blood splat ered across her bright pink sweatshirt.
‘Oh God! Oh God! She’s trying to kil me!’ Laura screamed. The rest of the group on the far side of the clearing, where a row of simple frames of wood had thus far been erected, were watching the scene in stunned, uncomprehending silence.
Final y Laura col apsed in a pile at Liam’s feet, clasping at her arm and looking back in panic as Becks strode forward. ‘She speared me!’ gasped Laura. ‘Just walked up and stabbed me for no reason!’
Becks came to a halt several yards away and looked calmly at Liam. She even smiled her faltering horse smile, lips slowly stretching to reveal a row of perfect teeth.
‘Hel o, Liam,’ she said.
‘Jay-zus, Becks! Why’d you go and at ack the poor girl?’
‘Mission priority. She has to be terminated.’
‘What?’
Becks nodded at the others standing just behind Liam.
‘Al of them as wel . The others, and you, Liam.’ He thought he detected a hint of regret in her voice as she said that. ‘After that, I must purge this area of evidence of human occupation. Then I must self-terminate.’
‘What? That’s crazy!’ said Lam.
‘Becks, listen,’ said Liam, spreading his hands slowly.
‘Becks, listen,’ said Liam, spreading his hands slowly.
‘This is not necessary, al right?’
She took another two strides forward, reached down and grabbed Laura round the throat, and e ortlessly lifted her up o the ground, her legs kicking in the air. Laura scrabbled and scratched at her face, one hand nal y grabbing a st of Becks’s red hair.
‘BECKS! STOP IT!’
Liam’s command halted her. She looked at him, confused. ‘It is a mission priority. We have already caused unacceptable levels of time contamination.’
‘PUT HER DOWN!’
Becks stared at him, but remained poised and perfectly stil , Laura stil dangling, kicking, struggling and slowly choking; the sharp ragged point of the spear held in Becks’s other hand hovered mere inches away from her throat.
‘THAT IS AN ORDER!’
Becks’s eyes slowly panned from Liam to Laura then back again. Her eyelids ut ered momentarily then nal y she said, ‘A rmative.’ She released her grip on Laura and the girl tumbled heavily to the ground, Becks’s red wig wrenched from her bare head, stil clasped by Laura’s bloody ngers.
‘Now, put that spear down!’ snapped Liam.
She obediently released her tight grip and it clat ered on the soft ground.
Laura’s breath chugged in and out in whooping gasps while the others stared in stunned silence at Becks and her while the others stared in stunned silence at Becks and her bald head, already sporting a quarter-inch fuzz of dark hair.‘Oh my God! She’s a complete freakin’ psycho!’ said Lam.
Behind him, Liam heard Jonah mut er, ‘Jeez … got that right, dude.’
Becks was staring at him. There was something in those cold grey eyes, something that looked like guilt, regret. Possibly even sadness. Like
a scolded baby in that moment
– that stunned could go either way moment – just before the face creases up and the tears and wailing come.
‘No,’ said Liam, ‘no, she’s not.’
‘She’s not a psycho?’ said Lam. ‘Sure about that?’
Liam nodded. He could see muscles twitching in Becks’s face. Confusion, desperation … her mind struggling to reconcile con icting priorities: Liam’s direct order versus hard-coded mission protocols.
‘She’s just doing what she thinks is right. She’s fol owing her programming.’
Franklyn cocked his head. ‘Programming?’
The re crackled noisily, il uminating their faces as they gathered in a circle round it like so many amber-coloured ghosts in a graveyard. The jungle, beyond the thrown ickering glow of light, was dark and noisy with the faro echoing cries of creatures cal ing to each other.
‘But how can we be sure that … thing won’t just freak out on us again?’ asked Kel y. He cast a glance at Becks out on us again?’ asked Kel y. He cast a glance at Becks standing several dozen yards away out in the darkness, motionless, dutiful y keeping watch for any signs of a night predator entering the clearing.
‘She just won’t,’ said Liam.
‘Yeah, wel , that doesn’t exactly l me with con dence.’
Kel y threw a smal branch on the re, sending a cascade of sparks up into the pitch-black sky. ‘I mean, it’s not like you knew she was going to at ack Laura earlier.’
Liam looked at the girl. Her arm was bandaged with a strip of cloth torn from her sleeve. The black girl, Keisha, had done a good job with the dressing. It hadn’t been a particularly deep gash, but luckily hadn’t severed an artery. Laura must have been incredibly lucky; Becks had stumbled on the uneven ground as she’d lunged with the spear. Laura had been fortunate Becks hadn’t managed to get hold of her. Liam had seen enough of Bob in action to know that, male or female, these support units were lethal kil ing machines up close and personal.
‘She won’t,’ said Liam again. ‘I’ve discussed the situation with her.’
‘Discussed the situation?’ snorted Jonah. ‘Can’t you just pul some sort of plug on her? I mean … she’s a robot, right?’
