As his bladder emptied, Pratt noted that a strange silence had settled over the jungle around him. On the one hand, it was sort of pleasant. On the other hand, it seemed strange. Minutes earlier, there had been noises of every kind, from the nonstop buzz of insects to the distant chatter of nocturnal birds. Then, just like that, it had all stopped.
Pratt wondered if he was the cause of the sudden silence. Most of the island’s creatures weren’t used to human contact, so perhaps the mere act of walking into the jungle had raised some sort of natural alarm. He doubted it. Then again, he couldn’t think of anything else.
As Pratt zipped up his pants, he heard something in the distance. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but to Pratt’s trained ear, it was like the banging of a gong.
He listened carefully as the sound continued. It took him a while, but he finally figured out what it was.
Someone was moving toward him through the trees.
“What do you see?” Zane asked.
Skinner spoke without turning his head. “Instead of focusing on one spot, look across the whole area. And do it quickly before the moon goes behind the clouds again.”
As instructed, Zane moved his binoculars across the expanse. As he studied the view, he saw a shimmer that ran across the treetops. “Wow.”
“See it?” Skinner asked.
Zane nodded. “It’s like a giant spider web.”
“I still don’t see it,” Mortensen said.
“Don’t focus on individual trees,” Zane said. “Focus on what’s just above.”
A few seconds later, Mortensen said, “I see it now. Wow.”
“It’s like some sort of netting,” Skinner said. “And it appears to be confined to the center of the valley.”
“It’s impossible to tell in the dark, but it looks like the material — rope or whatever they used — is painted in various shades of green,” Zane said.
Skinner nodded. “The perfect way to hide structures from the prying eyes of satellites. One giant camouflaged tarp.”
“Except that it’s more like a mesh,” Zane said. “A tarp would kill the plant life underneath. This lets enough sun through to keep the rainforest healthy.”
“Genius,” Skinner whispered. “Something of that size would probably cost a small fortune, which I guess wouldn’t be a problem for Brehmer.”
“I think I see something else.” Mortensen pointed to their left. “Nine o’clock, near that large clearing. It’s a fence. Tall. Probably thirty feet or more and topped with razor wire.”
Zane focused his binoculars in that direction and found it. “Looks like they’re trying to keep people away from whatever is going on in there.”
“That’s just it.” Mortensen lowered his binoculars and looked at Zane. “The razor wire is hanging toward the interior. That’s not the way it’s usually positioned. It looks more like they’re trying to keep something in.”
Pratt listened to the approaching footsteps. The person was still about fifty yards out but closing fast. The interesting thing was that they didn’t seem to be using a trail — they were coming straight toward him through the undergrowth. It seemed an impossible task in the dark jungle, and yet that was exactly what was happening.
As the noise continued, Pratt considered his options. He had a Glock 19 in his pocket and a long tactical blade in a sheath on his belt. His rifle was about twenty yards away, propped against a tree. He had placed it there before stepping into the woods to relieve himself. If he made a move to retrieve it, he would surely give away his position. Then again, the rifle carried enough ammo to vanquish whoever might be stalking him. That was probably more important than staying out of sight. After all, the person coming toward him already seemed to know he was there.
As Pratt prepared to head out, the sharp snap of a branch sounded in the general direction of the beach. A second person was out there, and they were between him and the rifle. He cursed under his breath. He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to get pinned down so quickly. Zane had given him a simple task, and he was about to blow it.
How did the two attackers know I was here? He hadn’t made any noise since the others left. Maybe someone had seen the boat come in and called for help. Whatever the case, he would worry about that later.
As the attacker drew near, Pratt realized he had two choices. He could get down into a prone position and fire once the two men were in range, or he could attempt to hide. Since he didn’t know what kind of weapons the men had, the latter seemed a better option for the time being.
It was always better to be above the enemy, so Pratt scanned the area for a suitable tree. Looking around, he saw one about five yards away. It had low-lying limbs and lots of foliage, just what he needed. After stepping over to the tree, Pratt pulled himself slowly up onto the lowest limb. He made sure it was sturdy then climbed up through the branches, trying to make as little noise as possible. After reaching a height of about twenty feet, he paused and looked down. He had gotten away just in time. Bushes rattled in several directions. He frowned. There weren’t two attackers, there were four.
Soon the figures came into view. They appeared to be men, and yet something about the way they moved seemed strange. Pratt slid the Glock out of his pocket. There was already a round in the chamber, so it was ready to use if necessary.
The men stopped at the tree where he had urinated just minutes before. They dropped down on all fours and sniffed the ground like animals. What the…? It was clear they had been drawn by scent, but that didn’t make sense. Pratt had a strong sense of smell, but he doubted he could smell bodily fluids from more than ten or fifteen yards away.
Suddenly, one of the creatures stood. Turning toward the beach, it let out a low growl. The others stood as well. Something had drawn their attention. Do they smell something? Are Zane and the others returning?
The group took off through the brush, only this time, they didn’t try to mask their movements.
Once the sound faded, Pratt began to wonder who or what he had just seen. Their bodies were human, but their movements and actions suggested something wilder, primordial.
They were creatures, not men.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THREE GUARDS CAME to retrieve Noah Lind a little before nine in the morning. He had just finished his meager breakfast of a grapefruit, a piece of boneless chicken breast, and one piece of buttered wheat toast. At least it would give him some energy before enduring whatever they were going to put him through.
“Get up,” said the taller of the three, who appeared to be the one in charge.
After Lind stood, two of the guards yanked him out into the corridor. They didn’t cuff him this time. As far as he could remember, it was the first time he’d been able to leave his room without restraints. He had no idea what that might mean, if anything, but he was thankful for the small measure of freedom. On two occasions, he had been shoved so hard that he had fallen over. At least now he might be able to keep his balance.
Even though he wasn’t restrained, Lind gave no thought to escape. All three guards were armed, including the one who kept the rifle muzzle pressed into his spine. Despite the menacing act, he doubted they would kill him. They needed his knowledge for some dark purpose, which should ensure his survival, at least for a time.