“We mark our position, and then we head out. Follow me, stay quiet, low, and in tight.”
Ben eased out and dropped to the ground. He held a hand up and just crouched for a moment. He turned his head slowly, and then looked up above them. There was a rocky hill behind them, mostly covered in plants, and even from where he was only a few feet in front, it was hard to make out the hole he had just climbed out of.
He waved them out, and one after the other, the men and women jumped lightly to the ground. The mercs and Drake had their guns up and all pointed out at the jungle.
Helen also leapt down followed by Nicolás. The young man just gawped as he turned slowly.
“This is not real,” he breathed and fumbled for a camera, but cursed when he saw it was dead. He turned to Helen. “How can this be real?”
“We told you. You just didn’t want to believe us,” she said. “This world is our world. But it’s from about 100 million years ago. Somehow, the comet that is passing overhead distorts time, opens a portal to long ago, and right here, on this tabletop mountain, we get a little slice of the Late Cretaceous period.”
Nicolás continued to stare. “This is where those giant bat-birds came from.”
“Yes; pterosaurs,” Helen said softly.
“Hey.” Drake nudged Nicolás back to attentiveness. “And I’m betting there’s something else you didn’t believe us about this place… it’s the most damned dangerous one on Earth.”
Nicolás nodded, his eyes blinking. He turned back to the jungle as Shawna looked over her shoulder.
“Buster was right: it stinks.”
Helen pulled out a small scope and held it to her eye, shifting it to thermal, and turning slowly. “Rotting vegetation, sap and plant resin, early flowers, and one extra thing — lots and lots of dino-poop.”
“Big shits mean big assholes,” Chess said. “Stay in tight, people.” Keeping his eyes on the wall of jungle, he moved in closer to Ben. “Which way, Cartwright?”
Ben turned to the female paleontologist. “Helen?”
The woman looked up, sighting the sun for a moment. “Even as a kid, he wanted to see what America was like in the past.” She held out an arm. “So I’m betting he went up north, and if he came back, it would have been coming from that way.”
“Then let’s meet him halfway,” Ben said. “Francis, take us out.”
The big man grunted, kept his gun tucked under his arm, and went to move off into the jungle.
“Wait,” Helen hissed.
Francis turned.
“Some of the creatures here, the snakes, Titanoboa, also use the trees. Make sure you stay aware of what’s above you.”
“Those tinyboas; that’s them big snakes you mentioned?” Francis’ voice was deep but untroubled.
“Titanoboa, but yeah.” She nodded. “Be careful.”
“And the dinosaurs.” Shawna grinned. “They can fly as well.”
“Francis, also big damn spiders, just like you hate, right, Drake?” Chess chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Drake sighed.
“Oh man, this is getting better by the minute.” Francis shook his head. “Hope I live to get that big paycheck.”
He turned back, scanned the tree canopy for a moment, and then led them in.
CHAPTER 41
Barry Ryebeck pushed the mower around his large grass backyard for 20 minutes before stopping, grabbing the brow of his cap, and lifting it to wipe his streaming brow with a forearm. It was hot, damned hot, and the Nevada summer was going to be a bitch as always.
His home in Humboldt County was a good 3,000 square feet with a few orange trees, camellias for color, and plenty of flat ground for his magnificent emerald-green grass. It was Kentucky Bluegrass Supreme, and was soft, thick, and a pleasure to walk on in bare feet. Everyone commented on it. It made him feel as proud as a rooster.
He took a moment to inhale the sweet smell of fresh cut grass, and then jammed his cap back on and was about to check his progress when the lights went out.
“Huh?”
As soon as he noticed it, it was all over and the sun shone hotly once again on his upturned face. He blinked, turning one way then the other.
Musta been my imagination, he thought and straightened his cap and looked back to his work. He was pretty much done, with just some tidy up to go around the trees, and along the hedge line — he’d tackle that one first.
Barry pushed the mower along the hedge line, coming to a hole in the hedge at ground level that was roughly the size of a hubcap. He pushed the mower on past, and then just as he was beyond it, something that felt like molten daggers stabbed his calf.
Barry screamed and went to the ground while the damn mower continued on without him. He turned over, gripping his leg, and just caught sight of two black stick-like things repositioning themselves just at the hole opening in the hedge.
As he grimaced, confused, he felt the spreading coldness work its way up his leg to his groin. And then begin to rise higher.
“Help me!” he shouted but his words were weak as already his chest was succumbing to the spreading numbness.
Then he remembered. “Ah damnit.” It was Meso season. He should have known better — those big bastards, the Mesothelae, were the world’s largest and heaviest spiders. They lived in burrows, and a big one could get to be two feet across and weigh 40 pounds.
Barry began to take short breaths, as it was getting hard to breathe. He turned his stiffening neck and saw it then, the Meso, as it eased further out of the hole in the hedge. Just as he thought, it was a big sucker, and had been in its burrow, lined with silk, just waiting for an ambush.
The spider came out slowly and in the sunlight, its skin looked like polished plastic. The eyes, two big central ones and many smaller ones surrounding them, were glossy black buttons devoid of soul, but Barry knew every damn one of them was focused right on him.
Below those eyes was where the shit got crazy — the two chelicerae, the things that housed the fangs, were an angry red, and those twin curved daggers were as long as his big fingers.
“Shit, shith, thithhh,” Barry whispered as the numbness spread to his face. He lay back then on his magnificent grass, and it felt like a soft, sweet-smelling pillow. “I gith thup.”
Barry didn’t feel the spider’s first touch, as he was totally numb now. And thankfully, he didn’t feel when it began to drain him of his body fluids. He just felt dumb for not remembering sooner.
CHAPTER 42
Drake tried to look everywhere at once. Ten years ago, he escaped this hellish place with his life and little else. He promised then to never return — he groaned for a moment — but now, here he was.
Out front, Ben had taken over the lead, and next was Helen. He never stopped thinking about her, and when things went well for him or he ran into trouble, it was always her he wanted to talk to. Guess I’m still hooked, and her coming was probably why he was really here. I’m dumb like that, he thought and snorted softly.
Ben paused to look again up at the jungle canopy. Sunlight filtered down, but it was shredded into thin bars by the thick leaf cover. At their feet, mud pulled at their boots, and roots thick as Drake’s thighs lifted from the slime to plunge back down like the muscular tentacles of a massive mud-slick octopus.