Natural Selection

by Dave Freedman

  In a sparkling new white undershirt, Craig read his mind. “You think one of those rays would try to eat it?”

  Jason started to answer when he noticed Lisa, standing by herself at the front of the boat. He joined her. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Hair in a ponytail, she looked unsettled, even nervous.

  “You OK?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  She eyed the calf, almost angrily. “What’s wrong is I saw Darryl take out his rifle before. What’s wrong is this is getting frightening.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know we’ll be fine at all. If we actually find one of these things . . .” She just shook her head.

  “Can we stay rational about this and see what we find, not decide it beforehand.”

  She said nothing.

  “Lisa, we will be fine. You and I will be fine.”

  “You and I?”

  He leaned into her, looked her right in the eye. “I’m not gonna let a goddam thing happen to you, all right? I swear it on a stack of Bibles.”

  She saw the fire in his eyes, the fire normally reserved for his work alone. Now it was focused on her. She kissed him on the cheek.

  “You feel better?”

  “Did you just promise to be my guardian angel, Jason?”

  “I guess I did.”

  “Then I feel better. For a few minutes anyway.”

  He smiled, and they joined the others. “What do you want to do now, Jason?” Craig said immediately.

  Jason studied the landscape. “Look around. The water, the riverbank, everything.”

  They searched as much as they could right up until it got dark. They found nothing. Rather than navigate the creek at night, they tied the Expedition to the inlet’s only dock and slept on flat water for a change.

  The next morning they returned to the ocean. A few hundred yards north of the inlet, everyone studied the rocky shore’s sloshing white water with binoculars.

  Jason shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Me neither.” Craig pivoted. “How ‘bout you, Phil?”

  “No, nothing.”

  Jason gave Phil a dirty look. Phil had become increasingly short with him as of late, and Jason knew why. Clearly, Phil felt he deserved to be an official researcher after all. Jason no longer had the time or patience to deal with this issue. He’d treated Phil fairly, honestly, and as a responsible adult. Phil was still his friend, but if he wanted to act like a petulant child, so be it. No one else even noticed the subtle change in behavior. The bottom line was that Phil continued to work hard documenting the group’s findings and that was what mattered most.

  Jason turned. “You see anything, Lisa?”

  “I’m not sure, but”—she paused, readjusting the focus knob—“I think I do. . . .”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure. I can’t make it out exactly.” She paused. This was a classic moment for Jason’s second-guessing. “You want to take a look?”

  “No, that’s all right.”

  She paused. “You don’t want to see for yourself?”

  “I doubt I’d make it out any better than you. Where is it exactly?”

  “On those rocks jutting out of the water. Over there.” Maybe I really got through to him, she thought.

  “Want to check it out, take a closer look?”

  “Yeah.”

  They paddled to shore in a twelve-person rubber raft, tied it up, and stomped through white water. Shin-deep, Lisa led the way, her head slowly turning. “It was right around here. . . .” She pointed. “There.”

  Jason saw it right away. Caught on a big black rock, a skeleton of some kind.

  They waded toward it, and Lisa wondered if it was another dead dolphin. But as they got closer, she saw it was something else entirely.

  Craig’s eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

  Lisa struggled to lift it out of the sea, a heavy bone-white skeleton. Clearly not a fish but a land-based animal of some kind. Bigger than a dog, with four legs, a large triangular head, and thick bones.

  “It’s a bear cub,” Darryl said quietly.

  Craig eyed it closely. “God, I think you’re right. So . . .” He looked around. “Where’d it come from?”

  Jason glanced up the coast. “With the currents, who knows.” Currents were deceptively powerful and could carry inanimate objects for miles in just half a day.

  “What the hell are those?” Lisa said suddenly.

  Jason sloshed up next to her. “What?”

  She pointed to the top of the skull. “Those.”

  She was shaking slightly, so he took the skeleton from her. There were two huge holes in the top of the skull. “My God. I think they’re . . . teeth marks.”

  Craig leaned in. “Holy cow, they are. So . . . one of those rays killed a bear?”

  “A bear cub,” Darryl said precisely.

  “But a bear.”

  Phil looked around. “So where’d it come from?” He scanned the landscape, the towering redwoods, the black rocks, the coast farther north. “I mean did this thing fall into the ocean and get attacked?”

  No one answered. They all told themselves that must have been what happened.

  Lisa continued to shake. Jason didn’t know whether it was from the cold water or something else. He put an arm around her, but she just continued, and he noticed her face was tight. He wished he could say something to calm her down, but he wasn’t sure that was possible.

  Darryl just eyed the holes in the top of the skull. “Jason, I think we better teach you . . .” He glanced at Lisa and Phil. “I think we better teach all of you . . . how to fire a rifle.”

  Jason scanned the wild, desolate terrain. “I think you’re right.”

  CHAPTER 47

  THE PREDATOR hadn’t moved. Flat on the plateau in front of the cave, its colossal frame gently rose and fell. It was breathing evenly now, its large lung fully adapted to the air.

  Its eyes shifted, calmly studying the giant dark space before it. The animal was ready.

  It started flapping, smacking its wings loudly and ferociously against the rock. It didn’t lift off. It barely budged.

  It ceased all movement.

  Then the muscles on the left side of its back began rippling very fast. They continued for several seconds, then froze, and those on the right began. Then they stopped and the left started. Then the right. Then both sides froze, and very quickly, the front half of the great body coiled off the rock. When the massive head was completely vertical, the hulking form went still. The animal didn’t move. It effectively stood there, more than six feet tall, its back half flat on the rock, its front steady in the air.

  From the new vantage point, it studied its surroundings anew, little puddles on the plateau, two dozen wriggling crabs, the spray of seawater from the breaking waves behind it, the mountains, and the sky.

  The wind started gusting and the head turned slightly, sensing it.

  Then, in a fluid series of motions, the creature bodily threw itself into the air, simultaneously flapped its wings and, like a seagull, rose on the diagonal. Pumping hard, it surged straight for the vast cave opening, then banked and veered over the ocean. It rose to one hundred feet then began testing itself: flapping, gliding, speeding up, slowing down, rising, diving, and hovering. Every movement was smooth and graceful. Like breathing air, they were all effortless now.

  The creature veered into a wide, sweeping circle and focused on the cave. Then it dove toward it.

  The air whipped past and the space rapidly grew larger. Surging closer, the animal felt a tinge of cold air. Then it arched lower and rocketed right in.

  The tunnel seemed to go on forever, an abysmal shaft of dank black rock, small stagnant puddles on the floor. The great body hurtled through, the sounds of the ocean quickly fading. Then the creature began pumping, its wings blowing away one puddle after another. The pud
dles were growing smaller. The light was disappearing. . . .

  The predator didn’t know the significance of what it was doing. It didn’t know it was about to become the first animal to permanently leave the sea since the amphibians 300 million years before. It only knew there was food on the land.

  It rocketed forward and disappeared within the lightless cavern.

  PART III

  CHAPTER 48

  THIS CAVE was smaller than its oceanside counterpart, eight stories high and three car lanes wide. At the very top of the mountain range, it offered a towering view. A field of gently flowing cornstalks was below; miles beyond that, the looming redwood forest.

  It was midmorning, and there was no sun. Near the cave’s entrance, the creature was sprawled out on the dank stone, still moist from the previous night, its thick hull rising and falling as it breathed. Submerged in shadows, the animal blended seamlessly into the black rock and was very hard to see. It had long since made its way to this side of the mountain, the land side.

  It was an ugly, cloudy day, and its eyes were pointed at the sky. Though the predator wasn’t looking at the sky, nor at the clouds. It was studying the light. It had just brightened, if only slightly. Human eyes, which took in one-five-hundredth the amount of visual information, never would have detected it. It was another shade of gray, one of more than four hundred the creature had seen in just the past hour.

  It didn’t move. As the day continued, the sun gradually peeked through the clouds, reached a maximum height, then began to dip. A sunset followed, then disappeared. The night came, the moon rose, and still, the animal remained still. The moon fell, the muted light of day arrived, the sun rose again, and the process repeated itself. When the sunrise returned once more, the study of light was complete. It was time to sleep. Though not here.

  Seconds later, the predator zoomed through the maze of blackened tunnels behind it, cold air whisking past its large horned head. It saw nothing yet sensed everything. It continued for several seconds when it entered a towering, unseen central cavern. It pumped its wings hard, rising several hundred feet, then glided down in wide, sweeping circles. Ten feet from the dank rock floor, it simply stopped flapping and landed with a loud, echoing thwack. Then it closed its eyes and slept.

  FOURTEEN HOURS later the creature awoke. It was pitch-black here, yet the animal knew it was light outside. Its study guaranteed it. Hungry, it flew to the nearby carcass of a bear it had killed, the mother of the cub. It feasted savagely, tearing off ragged bloody chunks of fur-covered meat, then chewing. When its stomach was full, it flew back to the cave mouth and landed with a thump that kicked up surprising amounts of black dust. As the dust settled around and on top of it, it didn’t move. It focused on the distant redwood forest, knowing prey was there. It wanted to hunt badly but knew it could not. The sun was in the sky. It just had to wait for it to disappear.

  CHAPTER 49

  TRY THIS one, Jason.”

  Craig handed him a Winchester Game 94 rifle.

  Under fading bleak skies, they were half a mile offshore of Redwood Inlet. They’d been practicing shooting for hours, aiming at a huge floating target Craig had set up in the ocean. The size of a Las Vegas roulette wheel with big white and blue rings and a faded red bull’s-eye, the target sat on its own little raft, weighted heavily so it bobbed as little as possible when a wave struck.

  Jason nodded, taking the rifle. The previous one, Craig’s old Mossberg RM-7, had been surprisingly heavy; but this one, he felt right away, was much lighter.

  “Load it, aim, then fire. Phil, when he’s done you’ll go.” Craig turned to Monique. “Lisa still doesn’t want to shoot?”

  “That’s why she’s at the front of the boat by herself, Craig. All right, I’m gonna go hang with Darryl. Let me know if you need a hand with this.” She went below deck.

  “OK, get to it, Jason.”

  Jason aimed carefully, waited as a big wave splashed the target, and . . . Bang! The rifle kicked back with a violent jerk, and he missed completely.

  Craig shook his head. “Pay attention, and watch the recoil. This is a lighter gun. Hold it firmly but not too tight.”

  “OK.” Jason drew the rifle close, eased down on the trigger again and . . . Bang!

  Craig nodded. “Three rings from the bull’s-eye. Not bad at all. OK, Phil, now you.”

  “Oh, sure.” Phil pivoted and inadvertently pointed his rifle right at Craig when . . . Bang!

  “Jesus Christ!” Craig felt a bullet whistle past his ear. He grabbed the firearm away furiously. “You could have fucking killed me, Phil!”

  “My God, I am so sorry. Are you all right?”

  Jason put his arm on Craig’s shoulder. “Are you OK?”

  Summers exhaled, feeling around his ear. “Yeah. I guess I’m fine.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Phil was devastated. “You know that was an accident.”

  Craig chuckled. “Yeah, no harm, no foul. You spend so much time on your laptop, maybe you should shoot that instead.”

  Jason smiled, but Phil didn’t seem to find this remark amusing.

  “All right.” Craig returned the rifle. “Try again. Carefully.”

  Phil held the rifle out in front of him, eyeing the target.

  “Aim.”

  “I am.”

  “Watch for the recoil.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Craig shrugged. Phil Martino wasn’t listening and it showed. He was holding the rifle too tightly, not looking down the line of the barrel, and, worst of all, not easing down on the trigger. Craig could already tell he was going to jolt it down like a kid on a pinball machine. “Fire whenever.” Bang! As expected, the bullet didn’t even come close to the target. Craig just shook his head. How had Phil Martino even learned to type? He glanced up at the sky. It was starting to get dark. “All right, guys. I think that’s it for the day.”

  Jason handed over his firearm. “Thanks again, Craig.”

  Phil just put his on the deck. “I’ve got some work to do. No more jokes about shooting my laptop, Summers. Your notes are on there too.”

  He went below deck, and Craig stared after him blankly. “Is he kidding?”

  Jason just shook his head. Somehow he didn’t think Phil Martino was kidding at all.

  “What’s going on, fellas?”

  It was Darryl, up from below deck in a bright orange Izod and green pants, looking like a guy off a Hamptons polo field except for the big bow over his shoulder. “Big Dog’s been getting rusty.” He held up three arrows. “Just gonna fire a few for fun.”

  Before Jason even realized . . . Voom! Voom! Voom! The arrows rocketed through the darkening air. . . . One after another they ripped into the dead center of the target, the last splintering into the first. Darryl shrugged. “Not as rusty as I thought.” He started to smile, but then he glanced at the nearby creek and suddenly looked unsettled, even disturbed.

  “Grab a beer, Big Dog?” Craig asked, not noticing his friend’s change in demeanor.

  “Definitely.” Darryl turned. “Jason?”

  Jason eyed someone at the front of the boat. “Uh, maybe in a little bit, guys.” Darryl and Craig disappeared below deck, and Jason walked toward Lisa. She immediately glared at him.

  “What did I do?” he said as if wrongly accused.

  She glanced around, checking to see that nobody else was on deck.

  “Guns scare me, Jason. They scare the hell out of me. My God, look at what almost happened to Craig.”

  “That was an accident.”

  “It’s always an accident with those damn things!”

  He wanted to stay calm. “Guns scare me, too, Lisa. But if we actually find what we’re looking for . . . we’ve got to be cautious, right?”

  “I’m not touching a damn rifle, you got it?”

  His cell started ringing, and he saw it was Ackerman. He didn’t pick up. “Lisa, in this situation, it might be more dangerous not knowing how to shoot than—”

  �
�Jason, I am a biologist. Do you understand that? And if any situation arises where we need to use guns, I am gone, get it? Gone.” She gave the ringing phone a dirty look and stormed away.

  Jason picked up. “Hi, Harry . . . yes, I know; this area has horrible service. . . . How are you?”

  The voice on the other end was cold, matter-of-fact. “Honestly, there have been some more . . . financial challenges with my companies.”

  “Really?”

  “Plus, I gave personal guarantees on a few bank loans.”

  Personal guarantees? Jason had heard the term before but didn’t know what it meant. “What is a personal guarantee anyway?”

  “To put this in perspective for you, Jason, the bank is trying to take my house.” Harry’s tone remained matter-of-fact.

  “I had no idea, Harry. Are you going to be all—”

  “I’ll be fine. I can’t seem to raise capital from the VCs, but I have a new plan to harvest an existing asset to cover our liquidity needs.”

  “So . . .” Jason didn’t know what any of that meant. “You’re all right, then?”

  “Fine. What’s the latest on your new species?”

  Jason explained, and when he finished, Ackerman’s retort was direct.

  “So you think this bear-cub skeleton further suggests these animals could have flown? I guess a bear is a land-based animal, but don’t they swim once in a while? I don’t know, Jason—to be candid . . . flying monsters . . . I just don’t see it.”

  “I’m not saying I see it either, Harry. I just want to keep following the trail.”

  A chuckle. “That sounds reasonable. Keep me abreast; we’ll see what happens.”

  Jason hung up and went below deck looking for Lisa. Then he noticed Phil’s open door and remembered he still had to type up his notes. In sweats, Phil was stretched out on his single bed, going through pictures on his digital camera.

  “Mind if I type up the day’s notes, Phil?”

  A blank look. “Sure; computer’s over there.”

  Jason went to the desk. The laptop was in screen-saver mode, and he smiled wide at what he saw. “What the hell is this?”