With a gout of water, it thrashed away. Andy watched for many more minutes, but there was no dark shape gliding back and forth.
“And goodbye to you too… I hope.”
Andy looked up at the sun — it was still only at mid-morning. Everything he owned was with him or on him, and he had miles to travel. He decided. He began to walk up the beach to the cliff wall, and then turned to head north toward the small spit that was like a natural wharf that would take him out from the coast.
If he was going to hitch a ride, he knew he would have to cross some water — so the farther he could get out onto that spit, the better.
It took him 30 more minutes to reach the spit, and in the far distance, he could see the massive tree starting to make its way back down toward him. It was moving slowly, probably only a few miles per hour right now. But as soon as the tide really began to turn, it would pick up speed. He needed to be on it and settled by then.
The rock wharf extended out like a finger for about 50 feet, and by the way the water pushed up in a small wave at its end, there must have been a sand spit as well.
Andy turned to look up the coast again — the log was about 500 feet from him, and now picking up speed. There were plenty of leafless branches and gnarled roots for him to use as a ladder to climb up when he got there, and he mentally went through the motions he would use — swim, grab on, climb up, don’t look down, don’t look back.
He turned and faced the water again. Just beyond the spit, the shelf would drop away to at least 50 feet in close, maybe more, otherwise the tree trunk’s branches would get snagged up on the bottom.
Andy opened his bag and reached in for the last remnants of a shirt that was just a length of rag now. He carefully picked up Gluck and began to wrap him up like he was swaddling a tiny infant. The small reptile had felt it before and didn’t complain too much.
“Gonna get wet real soon. Wish me luck, and you hold your breath.”
“Good luck, Andy friend.”
“Thank you. And I know you didn’t really say that.” He smiled. “But I don’t care.”
Gluck never made another noise as Andy pushed him down deep into the bag and tied it closed. He then secured it over his shoulder.
He rolled his shoulders like an Olympic swimmer getting ready for a heat and looked to one side of the rocky spit then to the other. The water was fairly shallow so the risk was minimal. But further out…
He carefully moved along the rocks, slowly, arms out. His gaze went from the tree stump, to the rocks, and then to the water—I need eyes in the back of my head, plus a few more on the sides, he thought.
When he reached the end of the rocks, he saw that there was a sand bar extending for another dozen feet, just about a foot below the waterline. Beyond, the water was dark blue and he could see the rip lines as it was beginning to pick up speed as it headed down south on the outgoing tide.
Andy looked toward the massive log again that was bearing down on him and also picking up speed. He only had a few minutes more before he had to commit — he wanted, needed, more time, but any second now, it’d be at the go/no-go split.
His heart galloped like a racehorse in his chest.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered from a cotton-dry mouth.
Damnit, he thought. Gotta catch my ride, see Helen again. He stepped down onto the sandbar.
CHAPTER 27
Ben waited while Drake slid the door back on the drop crate, and as soon as it was open, the heat, damp, and smells of the jungle rushed in. He inhaled the wet smell of decay, the cloying sweetness of scented blooms intermixing with the sharp tang of acidic plant resins. There was also the smell of the rich soil and corruption — life and death in equal measures was all around them.
Walking further out into the small clearing, Ben could almost physically feel the waves of raucous sound from a million insects competing in song to attract a mate, give a warning, or just enjoying the warmth of the sun. Things flitted through the jungle canopy, some small and brightly colored and others larger shapes that caused the leaves to rain down like confetti.
“Welcome home,” Drake said.
“God, I missed this place,” Ben said.
“Really?” Drake’s brows went up.
Ben turned and grinned. “Nah, not one bit.”
Helen joined them. “And then we were seven.”
“Yeah.” Ben sighed. “And only we noticed her gone.” He looked at Helen. “Like you said, it’s reached us. But I don’t understand how it just took her? What happened?”
Helen shook her head. “Who knows? Maybe somewhere back in her lineage something happened to change direction — an ancestor had a son instead of a daughter, or maybe never had children at all.”
“We could be next,” Drake added.
“Sobering.” Ben looked over his shoulder at the mercs and then lowered his voice. “Do you think… it will affect us?”
“Who can say?” Her mouth turned down. “But my guess is that the bigger changes will start to happen soon and become evident.” She looked up at him. “But evident only to us.” She looked down at something moving through the grasses at their feet and crouched to scoop it up.
Helen opened her hands and let Ben and Drake crowd closer. “Like, what’s this thing?”
In her hand was a tiny creature that just covered her palm. It was the size of a mouse, except instead of fur it had pebbly skin and a beak rather than a long whiskered snout.
“Some sort of… ” Drake just snorted, “… ugly little bastard?”
The thing mewled like a cat as Helen turned it one way then the other. “Well, it looks like an Aquilops, a distant relative to the huge Triceratops. But it’s different — new things are appearing, and old things are winking out.” She put it down. “But one thing’s for sure, it shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should we,” Ben said. He turned and whistled to Chess and waved the mercs on before turning back to Helen and Drake. “Seems we’re in a race. We find Andy and bring him back before we get erased from history. We can’t afford to lose.”
CHAPTER 28
Andy sunk down into the sand a few inches and felt the strength of the current in bath-warm water as it came to just above his knees. The sand spit was only about 10 feet wide and was like a shoulder that sloped to rocks on either side.
He licked his lips and tore his gaze away from the water, saw the tree trunk approaching now just another 100 feet further north and, worryingly, was going to pass by a lot further out than he anticipated.
50 feet, he thought apprehensively. He tried to do the math — a single swim stroke would drag him forward about 3 to 4 feet, so maybe 15–16 strokes, 20 tops, and he’d be there. Once he got into the shadow of the log, anything in the water wouldn’t be able to see him.
As the tree approached, he was able to get a better look at its characteristics: leafless branches, some massive, extended 20 feet in the air and all clustered around the front end. And at the other end, the roots were like a massive 10-foot-wide tangle. But there was plenty of room in among them for one skinny paleontologist to hide — he’d be caged in, but everything else would be caged out, so that’s where he’d head for: the rear.