It was all he had, but he couldn’t help the excitement creeping back into his gut.
Ben crept up over the rim, and then scuttled in amongst the fern stems. Slow down — no fast movements — stop and look—he had a long way to go, but he couldn’t afford to let impatience cloud his judgement.
Right now, a sixth sense made the back of his neck tingle, and he paused and hunkered down. A twig snapped behind him.
Ben spun; spear up, just as the hunter landed on his chest, crushing him flat.
The seven-foot-tall theropod had warty, pebbled skin, small eyes, and a large boxy head. It also weighed as much as a linebacker and hissed like a steam train as its dagger-like claws penetrated his flesh.
Ben felt the weight pushing the air from his lungs — one three-toed foot was on his chest, the other on his shoulder where the scythe-like daggers on its feet penetrated his flesh. He began to panic, as he knew that this would be the scout, and others of the pack would soon follow.
He stabbed upward with his spear, using his last reserves of energy. The spear dug into the creature’s shoulder, but not deep enough. The hunter reached down, grabbed at it with its rows of serrated teeth, and bit right through the pole, cutting it in two. The old blade fell to the mud.
Ben had nothing left.
I was so close, he thought. Sorry, Emma.
CHAPTER 24
Comet P/2018-YG874, designate name, Primordia, was now at its perihelion or maximum observable focus as it had now reached its closest point to Earth.
The magnetic distortion had also reached its peak, but now the field generated a form of stability. The hurricane-like winds that had been roaring above the top of the plateau ceased, and the boiling clouds dropped to become a mist that moved through a primordial forest.
Torrential rain fell on the surrounding jungle, but now on the plateau top it first eased to a warm rain, then stopped, and at its center, sunlight broke through.
The season of Primordia had begun.
CHAPTER 25
“Hang on.” Drake grabbed the edge of the basket and planted his legs as the balloon swung in the furious wind.
Camilla screamed and Andy threw an arm around Helen to hold her in place. Emma gritted her teeth and turned. “Drake?”
“I know.” The big man nodded. “Gonna try and rise above it.”
The clouds had thickened and visibility was down to around 50 feet. In addition, below and above them there was nothing. The danger now was that with the wind becoming stronger, and therefore the balloon accelerating in the air, flying blind was suicide. For all any of them knew, the plateau edge was right in front of them, and at the speed they traveled, if they collided with it, they’d either be tossed out or snagged up on a rock face.
Drake yelled at Fergus to give them some more burn, and the redheaded Special Forces soldier cranked up the propane gas burners to produce a strong jet of near colorless fire that increased the fill of the bag. In seconds, he felt them start to rise.
The balloon swung again, and he saw Emma’s fingers dig into the wicker railings. The commercial balloons were great fun in less than five-mile-per-hour winds, exhilarating in five to six, but once you got over ten, they became damned dangerous.
Drake knew sensible people didn’t usually go up in anything above eight. He also knew that sensible people didn’t try and balloon into a prehistoric world in the middle of a cyclone.
“Fergus, more burn!” Drake yelled.
“You got it.” Fergus shot another drought of hot air into the canopy, and their rise began to accelerate.
“Ease up,” Drake called, and Fergus slowed the rate of hot air delivery. He kept his eyes on Drake, his hands on the controls. Brocke and Ajax also watched, their hands on the flap ropes, waiting for orders to tug on one or the other. But for now, they lifted, and also sailed ever northeastward — toward, he hoped, what was the top of the plateau.
The wind eased a little, but they were still trapped inside a murky whiteout. Drake bared his teeth, feeling his patience run out. “No instruments, so don’t know if we’re at two hundred or two thousand feet. Hard to judge rate of climb without landmarks.” He scoffed. “We could be right up against the cliff edge and not even know it.”
“Quiet!” Andy hissed.
“Huh?” Emma turned.
The young paleontologist held a hand up to them. “Just… quiet. Listen.”
He and Helen were leaning far out over the side of the basket, their heads turned. Inside, everyone was frozen now, listening.
Then they heard it.
“What the hell is that?” Ajax’s brows snapped together.
Camilla nudged Juan, who lifted his telephoto camera and held it ready.
The sound came again — a scream, or maybe a screech. No one was able to identify it, and even Helen and Andy just looked at each other, confusion creasing their features.
Emma leaned far out of the basket, her head turning one way then the other. She spun, her face a mix of both relief and worry.
“Follow it,” she yelled. “It’s coming from the plateau top.”
Drake pointed. “That way; Brocke, give me some starboard vent, in 3, 2, 1… now.”
The man pulled on a cord, and gas vented from the opposite side of the balloon. Fergus needed to give the burner some juice to compensate for the loss of hot air, and the balloon moved sideways toward the sound of the screams.
The cry came again, but this time so close it made everyone cringe back in the basket.
“I do not like this,” Juan mumbled and crossed himself.
“Me either.” Ajax pulled his rifle from over his shoulder and held it ready.
“Hold fire.” Drake had his hand up. He cocked his head as he concentrated on tracking something.
“There’s something out there,” he said, and closed his eyes to concentrate.
Out in the mist, something flapped; big, heavy and leathery sounding. And it was close by.
“Oh shit.” Emma turned. “Quick! Get us up, get us up!”
“What the hell?” Ajax pointed his gun, but there was nothing to sight on. “Can’t see shit.”
Drake drew his handgun and listened, trying to get his bearings. Out in the murkiness, something that sounded like a sail flapping in a strong breeze continued. It came from one side, then the other — it sounded like it was circling them.
“Fuck this,” he said. “Let’s get above this crap. Fergus, take us up a few hundred more feet — give me a ten-second burn… now.”
The redheaded man twisted a knob and pushed a lever forward to the max on the burner, expressing a flame and jet of hot air. The basket immediately grew heavy beneath their feet as they shot upward.
Whatever was out there flapped again, and this time it was so close that it threw a massive shadow over them. Camilla shrieked and backed away, bumping into Fergus who elbowed her aside so he could concentrate on his job and watch Drake for instructions.
“Eyes out, boys.” Drake held his gun loosely, and Brocke and Ajax did the same, the barrels pointed out into the swirling cloud beyond the edge of their basket.
“What are they?” Juan asked.
Drake shook his head. “Dunno; but they’re big whatever they are.”
Helen’s eyes were on Emma, and she pointed. “You know, don’t you?” The woman tilted her head. “Are they what I think they are?”