“And tell everyone we’re looking for it.” Emma frowned. “Is that a good thing?’
“So what?” Dan said. “Like Ben mentioned; most people don’t know, don’t care, or have long forgotten.” He held a finger aloft. “We’ll also need an in for Windlesham Manor.”
“I know someone who lives over there.” Steve opened his arms. “An English girl, zoologist; she might help us.”
“Done and done.” Dan slapped the table.
Emma and Steve high-fived and Andrea leaned across to hug him.
“Meet back here for breakfast at 9am, and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned.” Dan stood, pushing his chair back and pulling his phone at the same time. He jammed it to his ear, talking rapidly as he headed for the door.
Ben sat with an open mouth grin. “What just happened here?”
Emma sniggered. “I think we just got Murakami’d.”
Later, pulling up out front of his house, Emma switched off the engine and turned in her seat.
“So, do you think any of it is true? I mean, really?”
“Yes, no… maybe.” He grinned. “Could the notebook have existed? Yeah, I think it probably did at one time. But seriously, a hidden plateau where monsters lived? Come on.”
Emma rested her chin on the seat watching him. Ben smiled at her as he went on.
“Remember, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a fiction writer. Maybe there was something Benjamin found that was fantastic. But back in 1908, a lot of things were being discovered and probably seemed fantastic. I’m pretty sure that all the rest came straight from Doyle’s imagination.”
“Well, you know what I think?” She smiled, her eyes almost glowing. “There’s only one way to truly find out… find that mysterious notebook.” She rested her chin on her hand. “Besides, the only thing we’ve got to lose is time. If there’s no notebook, then at a minimum we’ll all get a nice holiday out of it. Be good for the old gang to hang out again.”
“And if there is a notebook?” He looked deep into her beautiful eyes.
“Then it could solve one of your family’s greatest mysteries. And just think; it might even lead to an adventure none of us will ever forget. You’ll be famous.”
“I don’t want to be famous.” Ben put a hand on the door handle and began to turn away but paused. “But I do like the sound of hanging out with the old gang again. Didn’t realize how much I missed you all.”
Ben felt her hand on his arm and he turned back. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, but managed to catch the side of his mouth. He felt a tingle run all the way through him.
“Did I say you all? I meant, just you.” He lifted a hand to her chin and kissed her on the lips.
They sat back, staring at each other for a moment. “Um, would you like to come in, for a… coffee?”
Emma smiled at him from under lowered brows. “Not tonight.” She put a hand over his. “I like being with you, just you, too. Please say yes to the trip.”
He groaned theatrically. “Oh, maybe.”
He went to turn away again, but she grabbed his shoulder. “Ben-nnn.”
He groaned louder. “Oh, okay.” And pushed the door fully open with a scream of rusting hinges.
“Yay! See you tomorrow; 9am — sharp.”
CHAPTER 03
The hurricane-like winds had died down and an armor-plated Ankylosaurus raised a dull expression skyward for a moment, seeing the clouds part to let rays of brilliant sunshine in through the hole that was widening above its jungle.
The creature was 18 feet in length, weighed in at around 4,000 pounds, and was heavily armored with a horned beak-like mouth. As well as its plated hide, its armory also included a tail that ended in a club of solid, dense bone that it used to great effect on any overly interested predators. It wasn’t invulnerable to attack, but rarely did the carnivores of the land bother it.
The lumbering beast pulled at the hard grasses, chewing down great clumps, grinding them up with its fist-sized molars, and then moving on to the next. Its path led it towards two tree trunks only six feet apart, and rather than go around, it wedged its huge bulk between them and relied on its powerful stump-like legs to pull it through.
The tree trunks and canopies shook, and from above rained down hundreds, possibly thousands, of spindly red ants in defense of their nest. The inch-long insects had spikes on their heads that resembled horned helmets, and upon alighting on the body of the perceived threat to their colony, they immediately commenced their attack.
Formic acid was injected, magnifying the pain from the countless bites, and then the insects began to swarm towards the head where they had learned that the massive, thick-hided beasts were vulnerable. They quickly found the tiny eyes, ears, nostrils, and also the soft inner tissue in the mouth.
The Ankylosaurus screamed with fear and pain and charged forward. Its bulk smashed trees from its path, and its cries reverberated through the jungle, silencing the other chattering, skittering, and squealing inhabitants. Winged creatures took flight above it as it found a watercourse and charged along it.
It was nearly blind when it entered the stream, washing away many of the insects, but the damage was already done. Fear and pain maddened, it blundered on.
Nothing seemed able to stop it, until the impact from above drove it to its knees as something grabbed its neck and shoulders. The grip was large, and the Ankylosaurus felt the scrape of sharp teeth across its armor-plated back.
The teeth couldn’t hope to penetrate its hide, but the grip of the jaws was strong enough to hold it in place. The dinosaur got back to its feet and began to lumber on. But then more of the thing that held it piled down on top of it and started to loop around and under, eventually completely enfolding it.
Once done, the constricting began. Titanic muscles compressed, and then unbelievably, the armor-plated hide began to buckle and crack. The plant eater bleated its fear, but when it did, precious air escaped from squeezed lungs that it could never hope to recover.
A rib broke, and then another, and then its entire chest collapsed as its body was slowly pulverized. Only then did the mouth’s grip on its back shift towards the Ankylosaurus’ head. The long, fanged mouth opened, stretched, and then inched forward, beginning the swallowing process.
As the dinosaur’s head and shoulders were fed into the maw, the coils gave one more mighty squeeze and the great beast’s heart finally exploded.
CHAPTER 04
Edward Barlow’s phone buzzed on the top of his Brobdingnagian-sized, antique oak desk. The cavernous hunting room he was working in had been tomb silent save for the deep ticking of a seven-foot-tall grandfather clock in the corner.
Along each of the room’s walls, mounted heads watched with wild-eyed but eternal glassine stares, and a monstrous polar bear reared up, jaws gaping and paws aloft as if to tear any unwary passerby limb from limb.
Barlow was a hunter. Or rather a collector, and one of the idle rich whose family had left him billions from a mining business he had no interest in. But what he was interested in was sport shooting, and the more elusive, dangerous, or rare the specimen, the more he would seek them out.