It was a behemoth.
Chapter 60
Since he’d first arrived in the Vallerio, Caplan had seen a dire wolf, a short-faced bear, a giant ground sloth, an American mastodon, an American lion, a North American jaguar, and an American cheetah. He’d felt their wrath and watched as they’d dished it out on people as well as on each other. But nothing could’ve prepared him for the shock of seeing that saber.
He estimated its height at roughly thirty feet. The darkness and blazing inferno kept him from seeing its full length. However, he could see four tree-like legs and a distant swishing tail. Its eyes were lava-orange and blazed hotter than the surrounding fire. And those curving teeth on either side of its jaw were longer than he was tall.
Glad I don’t have to feed you, Caplan thought. And don’t even think about feeding on me.
The saber strode through the wildfire like it was nothing, its enormous paws stomping on shattered and broiling tree trunks. It stopped just outside the tree-strewn clearing and bared its massive teeth for all to see. Then it lifted its head and roared at the sky.
Vicious shockwaves shot across the clearing, striking the chopper and sending it into a tight circle. Caplan’s right hand slipped off the landing skid. He jolted and his left hand began to slide as well.
Perkins worked the controls, arresting the chopper’s momentum. Caplan managed to grab the skid again with both hands. But the effort depleted his reserves. He was simply spent and no amount of fear or anger was going to change that.
Pearson released his grip on Caplan’s thighs. Caplan experienced a momentary wellspring of hope. But it didn’t last long. Less than a second later, he felt Pearson’s right hand grab hold of his belt. The man’s left hand latched onto his shirt.
And then Pearson began to climb.
What does he think I am? Caplan thought. A ladder?
Inch by inch, Pearson climbed up Caplan’s body. And Caplan was helpless to stop him. He had just two moves left. Let Pearson finish the climb and possibly kill his friends. Or release the landing skid and fall to his doom.
More sweat beaded up on Caplan’s hands, further greasing his grip. Unable to move, he resolved to hang as long as possible or until Pearson was in reach of the skid. Then he’d let go. Because, quite frankly, there was no way in hell he was going to let Pearson hurt anyone else ever again.
The helicopter rose a few more feet, shifting wildly from side to side as Perkins fought to dodge dozens of falling tree trunks. The saber lowered its head and stared at the chopper with abject curiosity. As Caplan stared into its giant pupils, he couldn’t help but wonder if the saber had any type of self-awareness. Did it know how it had come into this world? Did it care that it had grown to a size nearly double that of a giraffe, the heretofore tallest animal of modern times?
And he wondered how it saw things. What did it make of the chopper? Did it consider the mechanical marvel and its strange occupants to be some kind of rival? A complex predator, possibly?
Or did it see them as mere prey?
Jaws gnashing, the saber bounded into the clearing.
“Look out,” Mills shouted.
Perkins didn’t flinch. With precision-like movements, he sent the chopper sailing across the smoke-filled clearing, weaving back and forth to avoid the sudden appearance of crumbling, burning pines and cedars.
The saber clambered after them, its paws crunching the cylindrical tree trunks, it jaws drawing ever closer to the metallic rotorcraft.
Morgan regained her footing. Staggering from side to side, she approached the cabin door. But at that exact moment, Perkins swung the chopper into a steep banking maneuver and began to gain height. Morgan toppled back into the cabin and bashed her head against the minibar.
The behemoth followed after it, its eyes blazing with deadly malice. Its long curving canines cut through the smoke time and time again, missing the flying contraption by mere inches.
And all the while, Pearson continued to climb. His head pulled level with Caplan’s waist, then stomach. Then chest.
Think, Caplan’s brain screamed. Use your head!
Perkins threw the chopper into another steep bank before coaxing the craft a couple more feet into the air. A dazed Morgan started to roll toward the open cabin door. But Mills loosened her buckle and wrapped her arms around Morgan’s waist.
Caplan glanced to his right. He saw they were above the creature’s eyes but within easy reach of its long paws.
The saber must’ve realized this as well. Abandoning its previous approach, it reared up on its hind legs and swatted at the helicopter with its front paws. Perkins anticipated the move and pushed the craft northwest. Undeterred, the saber jumped forward a few feet and tried again. Again, Perkins was forced to direct the helicopter to the clearing’s northwest corner.
“It’s boxing us in,” Perkins yelled.
“Can you take us through the forest?” Mills called out.
“Not in one piece.”
Looking northwest, Caplan saw what Perkins meant. The inferno had ravaged much of the Vallerio’s coniferous trees. But many others stood tall, their limbs ablaze, serving as both impervious obstacles and potentially deadly traps.
Caplan’s throat hurt from all the smoke he’d inhaled. His fingers, still curled around the skid, stung like hell. The stinging traveled up his arms and directly into his brain. He wanted to let go, needed to let go.
Think, Zach, think, he screamed silently. Use your head!
Perkins halted the helicopter a few feet from the edge of the clearing. Quickly, he set to work gaining altitude. But Caplan knew it would be too little and far too late.
The saber jumped close, so close it didn’t bother rising up on its hind legs. Instead, it opened its jaws and lunged upward at the helicopter.
“Remember me?” Pearson, sporting a wicked grin, grabbed Caplan’s shoulders and pulled himself up to an even level. “Cuz it’s the last thing you’re going to remember.”
Don’t listen to him, Caplan thought. Just use your head. Use… your… head.
With the last of his strength, he lunged at Pearson. His forehead smashed into the man’s skull.
A fleshy, cracking noise rang out. Pearson blinked, clearly startled. His fingers tensed up and he lost his grip.
Then he fell.
Pearson shouted, not out of terror but out of sheer anger.
Caplan watched the man fall, watched as an abyss of blackness, buttressed by giant yellow teeth and an enormous pink tongue, rose up to meet him.
The saber’s jaws snapped shut with perfect timing, slicing the still-shouting Pearson neatly in half. Part of the man’s body vanished down the creature’s gullet. The other part spun through the smoke-choked air, sputtering blood and guts into the waiting inferno.
Despite his aching skull, Caplan’s lips curled upward.
And he smiled.
Chapter 61
Flames swiftly consumed Pearson’s remains and Caplan shifted his smoke-infested eyes to the fiery clearing. Tree trunks were stacked high and burned brightly. They looked like logs in a super-sized campfire.
A snarl, ferocious and loud, assaulted his ears. Wincing, he stared at the saber. It was still close by, still staring at him with those lava-orange eyes.