Primordia 2: Return to the Lost World

CHAPTER 14

“Here we go.” Jim Henson stared into the viewing piece of the 12.5-inch Newtonian reflector. The massive steel tube of highly polished glass lenses and mirrors, plus large view aperture, gave the man crisp images of the solar system.

“Just like clockwork.” He squinted and used one hand to gently turn the imaging dial with the precision of a safe-cracker.

“Huh?” Andy Gallagher leaned away from his computer screen. “P/2014-YG332?”

“No-ooo. Not even close.” Henson pulled back from the telescope. “P/2018-YG874, Primordia—look at the date.”

Gallagher checked his calendar. “Oh right — the magical number 8.” His eyebrows rose. “Hey, did you know that ‘8’ is a lucky number in China? It means—”

“Yeah, yeah, money, luck, good fortune, or something.” Henson waved it away and then squinted back into the eyepiece. “I love this little guy. He isn’t big, and probably originated in the Oort cloud over a hundred million years ago. But he’s perfectly formed — good coma, tail, and nice glow, which undoubtedly means there’s some sort of iron base, rather than just being a lump of super-compressed ice.”

“Venezuela,” Gallagher said. “That’s where it’ll be closest, i-iiin… ” He typed on the screen. “… five days, forty-seven hours, forty minutes, and counting down.”

“Of the nearly 6,000 known comets visiting us in the inner solar system, we only get to see around one per year with the naked eye. But Primordia is a real beauty.” Henson pulled back, snapped his fingers, and pointed to Gallagher’s screen. “Get some pictures, will ya?”

“Right.” Gallagher started typing furiously at his keyboard. Beside them, the enormous computerized 25-inch aperture Truss-Dobsonian reflector came to life. The powerful computerized telescope looked like a barrel on a robotic arm, and it whined as it lifted and swiveled to gaze into space.

The Truss-Dobsonian sent its images directly to Gallagher’s computer. “Here we go.” He focused on the small streak in the sky. “Our baby is just passing by Venus now.”

Gallagher folded his arms as he watched, but from the distance of 162 million miles, it seemed stationary even though it was probably traveling at around 50 miles per second in space.

“I’d love to be there,” he said dreamily. “To the closest planetary point where its apparition becomes observable, I mean.”

“Meh.” Henson wrinkled his nose. “There might be some sort of aurora borealis effect, and you’d see the coma for sure, but would that be worth trekking into the center of the Amazon jungle?”

Henson and Gallagher looked at each for a few seconds.

“Hell yeah!” they both shouted.

They chuckled for a few moments, and then Henson sat back.

“Maybe one day.” He spotted something on the desk beside Gallagher. “Hey, Pete, toss me those Doritos, will ya?”

Gallagher picked up the bag, twisted it shut, and then tossed it into the air. “Look out; it’s Primordia—incomi-iiing!”

CHAPTER 15

Emma shifted in her seat and then reached for a bottle of water. She was parched dry from all the airline travel, and her back hurt; both her legs were going crazy from inactivity, plus her nose, lips, and eyes were so dry she felt like she had just crawled out of Death Valley.

She shifted to try and straighten a kink in her back, but gave up and slumped again. She felt fatigued already… and scared, and resentful, and anxious as all hell.

It wasn’t like this was the first time she had flown into Venezuela. She remembered the youthful exuberance, the excitement, the curiosity… the damned stupidity. Now, ten years older, and with full knowledge of what she was getting herself into, she couldn’t help feeling just as stupid.

She looked around and sighed. She knew what awaited them, but the others didn’t. Even though she had made them read her report, cover to cover, she knew there was no way they could fully comprehend what they were walking into. Her expression dropped as her mind took her back there for a moment.

Who could possibly believe that there was a place where creatures from Earth’s primordial past lived and breathed? That it was a land of brutality, miasmic swamps, and horrors waiting to tear them limb from limb?

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. Maybe it was for the best that they didn’t really believe the truth. Would she have been able to get them to come with her if they did? She doubted it.

She let her eyes touch on her team. Including her, she now had a party of nine: her soldiers, Drake, Fergus, Brocke, and the foreboding Ajax. There were her paleontological experts, Andy and Helen Martin. Plus two extra gatecrashers: Camilla and her cameraman, the large and jovial Juan Marquina, who to her amazement, had even won over Drake and his team with his good humor and his serious knowledge of the Amazon.

Emma knew she might be leading them all to their deaths. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her and screwed her eyes shut for a moment.

Then they slowly opened, and the steely resolve had returned. This was a rescue mission, she reminded herself. That’s what really mattered.

Following the many hours and 2,300 miles of flying, they had a smooth landing into Caracas. Their cargo was unloaded, and Camilla had earned her keep by negotiating a low level of scrutiny over what they contained, for a handsome amount of extra fees.

Along with their cargo crates, they were hustled to a large truck, and then headed directly to the Rio Caroní to wait for their flying boat to arrive.

“Looks good.” Drake nodded to the sky as a twin-float seaplane circled and then came down to glide smoothly along the surface. “DHC3 Otter; that’ll do nicely.”

“Good STOL,” Fergus observed.

“STOL?” Andy asked.

The redheaded soldier grinned. “Short take-off and landing; STOL for short. In these parts, if you’re gonna navigate narrow rivers with all sorts of bends and twists, you might not have a lot of clear water to come down on. A shorter landing and take-off craft is better for getting you closer to your target insertion or extraction point.”

“Got it.” Andy nodded, and then walked a few paces over to his sister. He pointed to the plane. “DHC3 Otter; got good STOL.”

She frowned at him, and Fergus chuckled.

Emma watched as the single-propeller craft eased into their wharf. There was a single pilot, middle-aged and grey-bearded, who touched his cap and masterfully maneuvered the floats and rudders to guide his plane in against the wood. Ajax and Brocke grabbed it, pulled it in close, and then tied it off, the propeller slowing and then jerking to a stop.

It only took them 15 minutes to load up and board, and after she met the pilot, Jake, a retired Canadian commercial pilot, she supplied him with their destination coordinates.

He nodded and whistled as he looked at her map.

“You know it?” she asked.

“No one really knows it. But been over there,” he said, pushing his red cap up on his forehead. “Not much down there. Just miles and miles of nothing.”

“That’s what I’m expecting. How long?” Emma asked.

“Good weather, so, two hours, give or take.” He straightened his cap. “Say the word.”

She grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “Word.”

Emma headed back into the cabin. Just two more hours, she thought. It had taken them nearly an entire day to come down via boat the last time.

She found her vacant seat and dropped into it. The DHC3 only took 10 passengers, and with the bulk of Drake and his oversized buddies, it felt crowded as hell inside. And hot. But right now, and for the next couple of hours, it was all up to Jake’s flying and navigation skills.

Emma settled back as the propeller started up, and the craft vibrated all around her. She leaned her head on the backrest and stared out the window. They were here, and now they were closing in. When Jake dropped them in the middle of nowhere, it would all be down to her memory and a truckload of luck.

The DHC3 began to ease forward, and Emma let herself relax and settled deeper into the seat. She closed her eyes.

Emma perched on the precipice, one hand on the cliff edge and the other gripping onto the wrist-thick vines. Around her, the wind howled like the scream of banshees, and debris was whipped around so hard and fast it stung her exposed skin and forced her eyes into slits.

Over the roar of the tornado, she yelled for Ben to run toward her. But instead, he backed away, not from her, but from the monster that reared up before him.

She went to climb back, but he turned to her and held a hand up to stop her, and then shook his head.

As she watched, the giant snake, the Titanoboa, lifted the front of its 70-foot body nearly 20 feet into the air. Its soulless glass-like eyes were fixed on the man, and its huge muscular body emanated the raw power of an alpha-apex predator.

Ben turned back, seeming transfixed by the thing or maybe just resigned to his fate. He just stood there, a mouse before a cobra. He finally held up a gun, pointing it at the creature, but it was rusted and old, and eventually, his arm dropped to let the ancient revolver fall to the ground.

The snake gathered itself in behind it, coiling its huge muscled body. Emma saw Ben half-turn to her, and her eyes met his. He mouthed something to her. Was it: Hear me? Help me? She couldn’t hear it clearly, but knew it was the most important thing he wanted to tell her.

Emma became frantic and began to clamber back up over the cliff. Ben turned to the snake, distracting it, and then he took a step toward it.

“Don’t!” she screamed.

The snake struck, its massive diamond-shaped head moving faster than her eyes could follow — or for Ben to react. One second, the man she loved had been standing there, and the next, he was in the thing’s mouth. The snake lifted its head, and gulped, letting Ben slide deeper into its gullet.

“No-ooo!” She clambered up onto the cliff. “No-ooo!”

The snake spotted her, and then faster than anything its size should be able to move, came at her like a heavily scaled river of terror. She backed up and felt her foot right on the cliff edge. A hurricane-like blast of wind pushed her sideways, and she overbalanced and fell. Her legs dangled, and she scrambled for the vines as her body began to slide into the abyss.

Emma looked down, barely making out the jungle thousands of feet below her, as everything seemed oily and distorted. She had one arm on the cliff edge and she began to slide.

The snake must be close now, she thought, and she tried to find the cave to leap into — it was there — she could make it. Emma went to swing into it but was jerked to a stop — it had her arm.

She screamed.

Emma’s eyes shot open as she furiously slapped at the thing on her arm that held on, shaking her. Her teeth were bared.

“Whoa, easy there.” Helen backed up, holding her hands up and away. “Nightmare much?”

“Huh?” Emma blinked away the images that still floated in her mind. “No, yes, I’m okay. What is it?”

“The pilot,” Helen said over the sound of the propeller. “He’s calling for you.”

“Oh, okay.” Emma unstrapped and launched herself toward the cockpit doorway. Inside, Jake turned to nod. He lifted some earphones, held them out to her, and she slipped them on so they could talk to each other without being drowned out by the engine.

“Look outside,” he said.

She did, seeing nothing but the endless green of an impenetrable tree canopy, with the dark highway of the river splitting it in half.

“This is where your instructions and map has put us.” Jake glanced from Emma to the cockpit windscreen. “Are you sure about this?”

The river continued into the distance, narrowing here and there, the occasional small clearings at the water’s edge. But for the main part, it was unbroken, and there was no evidence at all of any side rivers.

“Yes, I am.”

But she knew they were down there. Plus, she had a secret weapon. That was if Camilla proved to truly be of value.

“Bingo.” She pointed.

Camilla had succeeded — about a mile or so in the distance, there was a ribbon of smoke rising lazily into the humid air.

“There; that smoke, put us down there,” Emma said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake accelerated in the air, and in no time, they were over the top of a tiny clearing, and looking down, she could see a single canoe pulled up and a fire burning.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Emma felt her confidence soaring.

The pilot half turned. “Taking her down. Make sure everyone is strapped in.”

Emma got to her feet and scurried to the cabin where she yelled instructions, getting everyone to sit down, redo seatbelts, and prepare for a fast disembark. Once done, all heads turned to the small porthole windows.

The DHC3 banked, lining the river up, and then they came in fast as though Jake was in a hurry to get them down. In another few seconds, there was the thump and bounce of the flying boat’s floats meeting the flowing waters. Even though it seemed smooth, the plane rattled and jerked over even the smallest of ripples until they slowed and settled.

The pilot brought the craft around and then eased it in toward the shoreline. Emma saw from the window a single nut-brown man with a bowl-cut hairdo and round belly watching solemnly — she knew who it was, recognizing him even after all the years—Ataca, their original guide and her eventual savior.

Jake guided them into the shoreline, and the nose of the plane bumped up onto the bank. Drake was already up with his men and they threw open the door to leap out, immediately setting to secure the plane with ropes, hammering in spikes to lock it in place.

Jake cut the engine, and after another moment, the sound of the jungle came alive around them, and with it the rush of humid heat, and the smells of decaying vegetation, acidic sap, strange blooms, and brackish water.

Emma leaped down and staggered for a moment on the soft earth. She quickly straightened and waved to the solemn-looking Pemon Indian. As she approached, she saw that he had aged — so had she, but obviously years in the jungle were a lot harsher. The once fierce-looking young man with a smooth face, black bowl-cut hair and daubs of vivid paint on his cheeks, now looked shrunken and less colorful.

She smiled broadly. It was Ataca that had helped her a decade ago when she had staggered from the jungle, more dead than alive, babbling and fevered. Emma went to him and held out her hand, knowing that hugging was not something that the Pemon understood or even wanted.

“Ataca, my friend, thank you for coming.”

He took her hand and held it rather than shook it. His felt like bone and leather, and to him, she was sure hers was silk, and not designed for a life lived here.

“You come back,” he said in soft, halting Spanish.

She smiled. “And you learned Spanish.”

“A little.” He hiked sharp, brown shoulders. His face became serious. “The wettest season comes. And you are here for your friend.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes.” Emma looked out over the jungle for a moment. “Yes; if he’s alive, I’ll bring him home.”

Ataca looked saddened. “All my life, ah, one person only ever comes back from the bad place.” He looked up into her eyes. “That was you.”

She half-smiled. “And I will again.”

Ataca’s dark eyes slid to her group. “And will they?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, more forcefully than she wanted to.

The Pemon Indian grunted and went to turn back to his canoe but paused. “I will ask my gods to protect you, again.” He looked toward her team once more, who were unpacking the last boxes. “But I don’t think the gods can protect everyone.”

“Wait.” She rushed back to the plane, drew out a plastic bag, and jogged back to the small man who was already sitting in his canoe. She crouched beside him and put the bag in front of him. “This is for you, as a way of thanking you… for everything.”

He looked in the bag and his eyes lit up. It was only a bottle of whiskey, a few hundred American dollars, and two shiny new hunting knives. Ataca smiled, nodded, and reclosed the bag.

He picked up his paddle. “I will come back, after the wettest season has ended. I hope you will be here. With your friends.” He pushed away from the bank.

Emma raised a hand to wave, but the small man never turned. Thank you, she thought. But this time, I hope I don’t need you.

Drake Masterson joined her and stood watching Ataca disappear with his hands on his hips.

“Your guide?”

“He was.” She turned to him. “I wish we could get him to come with us. He knows more than he’s telling us.”

“About the Amazon, sure. But about where we are going; probably not more than you do now,” Drake responded. “I know the Pemon; they’re very superstitious and see the jungle as a living thing which they’re a part of. Your friend might be fine for a while, but also might not be able to hold it together if some of his gods or demons come to life before his eyes.”

She scoffed and looked over her shoulder. “And you think they will?”

Drake grinned. “Time will tell.” He turned about. “This will be base camp; where we’ll launch from and where we all agree to return to — even if we split up.” He checked his watch. “According to your timetable, we now have twenty-one hours, seventeen minutes until this phenomenon begins. So let’s call ‘em all in, so we can begin.”

“Yep; first things first.” Emma went and checked the plane was fully unloaded, and then confirmed her instructions with Jake — he was to be back in four days. If everything went to plan, they should all be back here waiting for him.

The older man nodded and saluted from the edge of his cap, and then started the propeller. Emma backed up, squinting and hugging herself as she watched the seaplane maneuver out toward the center of the river, accelerate, and then take off.

Jake didn’t circle back, salute from the cockpit, or dip his wings like they did in the movies. He just lifted and headed home. Emma felt emptiness in the pit of her stomach as the plane vanished into the distance. It was like watching the modern world leave her behind, and now she belonged to the jungle.

She blew air through her lips, turned, and then clapped her hands once. “Okay, everyone, in here, please.”

The group assembled in front of her. Behind them, stacked in the center of the clearing on the riverbank, was their pile of boxes and bundles. Phase one of their journey was complete.

“This is base camp. It will take us a day to reach the plateau—”

“I thought it was going to be less than that?” Andy complained.

“Hopefully, it will be less,” she replied. “The last time I was here, navigating via the streams, it took us several days. We’ll be able to lift up above all that, and if the winds are favorable, then yes, we should arrive in plenty of time. We can be early, but we cannot be late. So, you might notice we’re building in slack for any unforeseen eventualities.”

Emma looked up at the sky, and then at her watch. “From now on, we treat this expedition like it’s a military mission. Drake will be calling the shots with me acting as advisor.” She waited. And though Helen’s lips were clamped, and Camilla seemed a little amused, there was no pushback. She held out a hand to the formidable Special Forces captain. “Drake.”

“Thank you, Emma.” Drake Masterson had both hands on his hips as he eyeballed the group. “This is a rescue mission. And from what we understand, it’s going to be a damned dangerous one at that. We will be entering extremely hostile territory. My job, and the job of my men, will be to keep everyone alive.”

Andy’s hand shot up.

“Go.” Drake nodded to him.

“Are we launching the balloon from here?” Andy asked.

“Yes, but not yet. Tasks will be handed out to everyone, and I mean everyone. Because everyone here needs to pull their weight, and no one is here just because they have a nice smile.”

“Damn,” Juan said with a grin.

“To begin with, my guys get the hard stuff.” He nodded to his men. “Everyone else, under the supervision of Emma, will be unpacking the gear and laying it all out. We’ll need to suit up in our jungle clothing, and also do a weapons check, load up our packs, and then… ”

Drake looked at the forbidding wall of jungle. “… then, we’ll be launching the balloon.”

“And what will you be doing?” Andy said with a cocky grin.

Drake turned to him. “To launch the balloon safely, we need about an extra hundred feet of clearing. So for the next few hours, Fergus, Brocke, Ajax, and myself will be hacking out some more space. We’ll then lay out the canopy bag and give it a once-over. We’ll construct the basket and check the heat blaster.” He lowered his brow to Andy. “You are welcome to pitch in, Mr. Martin.”

Andy shook his head and held his hands out. “See these? These are academic’s hands, and the toughest things they’ve dealt with lately are paper cuts and maybe a hot coffee spill.”

Drake snorted. “I’ve read your bio, Mr. Martin, and I know you’ve done plenty of fieldwork in some pretty nasty places. We could use your help.”

Andy puffed up a little. “Okay, sure, I’m in.”

“Good man,” Drake said, and then checked his watch. “It’s too late to launch today, as by the time we’ve done all of this, nightfall will have overtaken us. Launch is first thing in the morning.”

He looked along their faces. “Questions?”

There were none, and he nodded to Emma. “Then let’s begin.”

CHAPTER 16

“Well, well, well; old Santiago was right after all.” Mateo folded his arms as he read the data on the bank of screens before him. He turned to the young man sitting at the desk behind him.

“Hey, Nicolás, you see that storm cell gathering energy over the northeastern jungle?”

Nicolás had an open-mouthed grin, but his brow was furrowed. “Yes, I see it, but I don’t believe it.” He switched to the satellite images. “It doesn’t make sense — it’s just over the deep eastern jungle. But nowhere else.” He swiveled his seat to Mateo.

“It comes again.” Mateo turned back to his screen. Santiago, his former boss, mentor, and friend had retired just last year. And he remembered well seeing the same phenomenon exactly ten years ago. Back then, he was the fresh-faced kid, and just like Nicolás was as confused as he was intrigued by the occurrence.

“Every ten years, almost to the day, and always over just that part of the jungle, there looks to develop a localized hurricane, but coming out of nowhere, and centralized. But strangely, it stays centralized.” Mateo watched the cell become ever more dense every few moments.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Or even ever read about this unique occurrence.” Nicolás turned back to his screen, and his fingers raced over the keyboard. “It’s impenetrable,” he breathed.

Mateo chuckled. “Give up; I tried the same thing when I first saw it. Satellite, thermal, or even geographic readings over the site are near useless.”

As they watched, even the satellite image started to blur over the affected area as if there looked like a smudge was starting to obscure his screen. The localized cloudbank swirled and was so dense it looked like an error in the software or hardware.

“Every ten years, we have what the locals down there call the wettest season.” Mateo watched, feeling like an old friend had come to visit them again.

“What should we do about it?” Nicolás asked.

“Do about it?” Mateo turned. “What should we do about the sun coming up, or going down? Or about the sky being blue, or the trees green? We do nothing but observe, document, and enjoy a unique weather phenomenon.”

Mateo reached forward to pull a battered old paper folder from a shelf. He looked at it for a moment, and then thumbed through it, finding the pages he wanted.

“History repeats. This was given to me ten years ago by my former boss; you’ll see my notes of the last occurrence.” He held it out. “And now I hand it to you to make your notes.”

Mateo pointed to the open pages as Nicolás read. “Every ten years, like clockwork, there is a unique phenomenon that happens in these parts.” He shrugged. “The conditions manifest over a single area, only remain for a few days, and then just as abruptly, dissipate and then vanish. It’s been happening for as long as anyone can remember. Maybe forever.” He looked up.

Mateo nodded. “Theories are that it is caused by an upswelling of thermal activity in the area that alters ground heat, and then the associated humidity and air density.”

Nicolás flipped back through the book. “2018, 2008, 1998… ” He let the pages fan. “… there are pages stuck in, handwritten, that go back hundreds of years.” He looked up. “What happens down there?”

“No one knows,” Mateo said. “Our best technology can’t see through it, so for all intents and purposes, whatever is or was there ceases to exist as far as we’re concerned.” He chuckled. “Maybe everything goes to the Land of Oz.”

“We should go there,” the young meteorologist said.

“No, we won’t. And I don’t think anyone would be mad enough to try and visit that strange cauldron at this time. Even if they could get there,” Mateo said wearily.

Nicolás nodded, and then began to read from the notebook. “One day, someone will.” He paused. “Hey, the weather satellite will be in a complimentary position for the next twenty-four hours. Mind if I continue to monitor the site?”

“Knock yourself out, kid.” Mateo had already lost interest.

CHAPTER 17

Ben had been traveling all through the night, like he had for the last few days. Dawn was coming fast and he needed to find shelter soon. Though there were the nocturnal night hunters, there were fewer of them than the ones who hunted by sight.

Ben had found out the hard way that the daylight hunters, even the smaller ones, had eyesight comparable to that of birds of prey, with vision that was mostly triggered by activity.

When he had to move during the day, it meant having to crawl along the ground, avoid rapid movement, and stop for many minutes and just let his eyes scan the foliage.

Many times, he had seen them, the hunters, like weird crocodiles standing up on hind legs, remaining motionless in the dark of the jungle, just waiting for something to amble close enough for them to ambush. And they were fast — the prey animals rarely outran a pack of hunters.

Ben often marveled at the predator’s natural camouflage — mottled patches or splotches, tiger stripes, or skin that looked to be able to mirror its surroundings and change color.

He looked up at the outline of the plateau in the distance, just recognizable against the blush of the sunrise. Clouds were beginning to form over its surface and were slowly rotating. Around him, a soft rain fell. It was as warm and slick as oil, giving him good sound cover.

He couldn’t help grinning — after 10 years, he was coming home. Ben wanted to run forward, screaming and waving, his impatience drawing him nearly mad with an urge to act, and fast. His long wait might be finally over. But he knew that impatience would kill him as surely as putting a gun to his head.

He’d find shelter now, and then in the next night, he’d begin to work his way up the slope to the tabletop mountain.

“I’m coming, Emma,” he breathed. “I’m coming home.”

CHAPTER 18

At dawn, Emma woke to the sound of a tiny whine and opening her eyes saw the cloud of gnats, mosquitoes, and larger insects trying to find a way in through her mosquito netting.

She sat up and saw that Drake and the others were already moving about. They had all spread around a campfire at the water’s edge, with one of the soldiers taking turns on guard. Though the river here moved too fast for small caimans, there were bigger ones this far in, and sleep was when people made themselves vulnerable, so there was no need to take unnecessary risks.

She watched the dark water for a moment more as she pulled her knees up to her chest. The thought of waking to the feeling of her foot clamped in a caiman’s jaws and being dragged into the water sent shudders up her spine. But this green hell was something she’d only have to experience for a number of days, and she tried to imagine what it was like for Ben, who was forced to live in a jungle far more dangerous, day after day for a decade.

If he was still living in it.

He’s alive, she demanded of herself. She had to believe that for herself and for everyone else she was driving forward.

At her feet were her jungle clothes ready to put on: the tiger-striped Army uniform, belt with knives, ammunition pouches and holster, plus the calf-high boots with in-built snakebite armor.

Emma grabbed her water, sipped, and began to dress, making sure she stayed within the netting until she could reapply her chemical shield.

It took her ten minutes to work everything out, lather on the bug spray, and then throw back her netting. Brocke was grilling some fish he’d caught, and Drake, Fergus, and Ajax had laid out their ordnance, checking it over.

Emma turned from the river to the jungle and chuckled. “Holy wow.”

The guys must have worked like machines all afternoon and evening, and now she saw what they’d accomplished. The clearing they had arrived on was now three times as large, and several hills of green debris had been pushed up to one side.

The orange balloon canopy was laid out, and she could see why they needed so much clearing space — it looked huge. Also, the basket had been constructed from the panels — it was about ten feet square, light but formidable, and would fit them all in with room to spare.

Emma inhaled the humid jungle air deep into her lungs. She felt good; she was certainly getting her money’s worth from Ben’s old comrades and felt vindicated for bringing them along.

She also knew they weren’t doing it just for the money — the motto: no one left behind, was something that was in their DNA. Ben was more than just a fellow soldier; he was a blood brother to them. They’d bring him home, or she bet they’d die trying. Her years of planning were taking shape, and so far, she regretted nothing.

Emma saw that Andy was lending a hand with the weapons, and even Helen was in amongst the soldiers, chatting and helping out. She then looked across to her outliers — Camilla and Juan. The pair hovered close by, and from time to time, Juan would take a picture or tell a joke, a funny one, by the look of the expression on the team’s faces.

Their work was nearly done, and she thought if nothing else, they all certainly looked the part in their camouflage outfits — a private army about to do battle deep in the Amazon jungle’s dark and mysterious center.

Emma reached for her holster, slid out, checked, and then replaced her sidearm — it was a new SIG Sauer M17, straight off the line. The 9mm handgun was a dark earth tone, and was lightweight, corrosion-resistant for tropical environments, accurate, and reliable. Against the adversaries she had in mind, it might prove to be more of an irritant. But it made her feel safe, and she had practiced enough over the years to know she could hit a dime from 50 feet.

She’d feel even better when she was packing an M4 rifle. She almost felt… confident.

Emma went to turn away but noticed that Camilla was staring. She nodded to the journalist, and in return, the woman scurried to the fire, poured two coffees, and came toward her, holding them both in front of her.

She held one cup out. “Good morning, Emma. Did you sleep?”

Emma took it and raised it to the woman. “Thank you, and yes, surprisingly well. You?”

Camilla shrugged. “A little.”

Emma just nodded. Given they’d be on the plateau soon, she might regret not getting more sleep.

“So.” Camilla sipped her brew. “Where do you think Ben will be?”

Emma noticed her eyes twinkled as if they were sharing a secret. “Somewhere on the tepui. I don’t know where. Maybe he’ll find us.”

“Really?” Camilla lowered her cup. “Do you really think he’s alive? I mean, really?”

“That’s why I’m here. We’re all here.” Emma turned to face the smaller woman.

“Closure.” Camilla nodded. “For you and for Cynthia Cartwright. Can’t have been easy on her. You coming back, but her son, not.” She looked up into Emma’s face and tilted her head. “I hear she’s not well these days.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. “That generation was from far stronger stock than us. She’s fine.”

“But if she dies, who inherits the Cartwright estate?”

“Ben does,” Emma fired back.

Camilla turned side on. “But if Ben—”

“Ben does.” Emma’s jaw jutted momentarily. “He will be coming back.” She leaned in close to the woman’s face. “Got something to say, say it.”

Emma’s raised voice turned every head in the camp. She noticed that Juan was filming her and Camilla.

The journalist stood her ground, and the corners of her lips just turned up a fraction. “Well, you see, it’s just that you win either way. You find Ben, and live happily ever after. Or you don’t find Ben, inherit the Cartwright estate, and live happily ever after.”

Emma saw red and leaned in real close so only the woman could hear. “Watch that mouth, or else.”

“Or else?” Camilla straightened. “You’ll leave me here… as well.”

Emma had the urge to grab the woman’s shirtfront and shake her. “No, but I’ll break your fucking jaw.”

She stormed toward Drake and his team. Juan filmed her the entire way.

CHAPTER 19

Kueka was the last high-borne priest remaining. A few others had managed to flee, but he and his warrior escort had waited too long, and now he would pay.

The others of his group had scattered, but the chance of their survival could be counted in the breaths of a bird, rather than in days or even hours.

The priest bounded up the steps of the temple, past the majestic stone idols, and also past the bowls of large, fragrant blooms, fresh fruits, and other offerings to their gods.

He paused, confused—where were the guards? They knew not to leave until he had returned. They would pay with their lives.

Kueka cursed; he had always known his gods were angry and demanding ones, and the sacrifices were becoming costly. Too many lower-caste men, women, and children had been offered and accepted, greatly thinning out their tribe. Now it seemed the eyes of the great gods had turned upon the high borne.

It was said to be an honor to be sacrificed to the great snake god. But it was an honor that Kueka wanted to ensure never fell upon him. As head priest, he was said to be able to talk to these monstrous creatures. But today, no god was listening, as were any of his people. It seemed no one was left to listen.

The small man bounded down the steps and leaped through the hole in the wall, accelerating to the pathway that would lead back down to the base of the plateau. The wettest season would be over soon, and everything would vanish back to the underworld. He must escape before that happened. Or he’d be trapped. But first, he must survive.

He sprinted down the cave passageway, closing in on his escape route, when he skidded to a stop. The burning torches along the way threw distorted shadows on the rough-hewn walls, but in the dancing light, there was one shadow looming ahead that he wished was just a trick of the light. The snake god, one of them, was waiting for him, and blocking his way.

Kueka half-turned. From behind, he heard the heavy sliding of another huge body — he was trapped between two of the great beasts. He couldn’t really talk to them; that was just to fool the tribe. There would be no entreaties, no mercy, and no hesitation. He’d end up food, just like the rest.

He had one chance, and he darted to the side where there was an alcove for storing building materials. He clambered in and quickly used the cut stones that were stored for construction, lifting them quickly into place, one on top of the other, sealing the entrance to the small hole, and also sealing himself in.

He had no choice; he’d wait until the creatures left. Surely that would be soon.

CHAPTER 20

Drake stood, finished his coffee, and then flicked the dregs into the jungle. After breakfast, two coffees, ablutions, and all jobs done, it was still only 8am. He was satisfied with progress.

“All right people, we’re gonna start inflating the bag. It’ll take two hours, need everyone involved, and once done, we will immediately board and set off — morning breeze is a good breeze, so we’ll use it.” He turned to Emma. “Once we’re up, it’ll be over to you for navigation.”

Emma also stood and wiped her hands on her pants. “That’s right; we can use GPS and compass for only a while. Then once we arrive over what I’ll call the fern forest and are closing in on the plateau, I expect everything to go haywire again. Also, by then, I’m expecting low cloud and fog. That’s where we’ll be relying on skill, precision, and some luck.”

Luck, thought Drake with disquiet. If there was one thing a soldier hated to rely on, it was that. He kept quiet and watched the woman. He couldn’t help admiring her. She was single-focused in what she wanted to achieve, and there was a steely resolve and toughness about her that he wouldn’t dare bet against. She was confident, and she made him feel confident.

Helen raised her hand. “Remind me again how we are going to find it, if we’ve got no compass, GPS, and if there is fog, no line of sight?” She stared at Drake from under her brows. “I mean, I’ve been doing some reading on recreational balloons, like this one, and though they’re pretty tough, you don’t want to bang into the side of a building or a mountain when you’re a thousand feet in the air. The canopy punctures and deflates, and we’re all going to drop like a rock.”

The soldier grunted. “Modern balloons are tougher than that, and a lot more navigable. But the plan is we rise above the cloud layer. Emma believes we can drop in through a permanent eye effect that is over the center of the plateau.” He turned. “That right?”

“It’ll be there,” Emma said with conviction.

“How high can we go up?” Camilla asked, and raised her chin.

“Well, some hot air balloons can go to one-hundred-thousand feet, and that’s well into the stratosphere.” Drake stuck his thumbs into his belt and tried not to laugh as their faces went a few shades paler. “But this recreational model isn’t designed for that. We can certainly get some good height, and if we needed to, we can climb to five thousand feet. Though I expect we’ll only need to climb to around two and a half, or maybe three, depending on the cloud mass.”

“Will we need breathing equipment?” Andy asked, still looking excited.

“No, not at that height,” Drake replied.

“Still no parachutes?” Andy pressed.

“Oh shit, parachutes.” Drake slapped his forehead, and Andy’s mouth dropped open, but stayed curved up at the corners. Helen looked like she was going to pass out.

Drake couldn’t help himself and guffawed. “No, no, like I said before, we won’t need them. These modern balloons are pretty tough and can be lowered and raised quickly. We should be fine.”

“Should be,” Helen repeated.

Drake ignored her. “Anything else?”

Andy’s hand shot up again.

“Jesus,” Drake said with a groan. “Yes, Andy?”

“One more thing; what happens if we don’t find the plateau?”

Okay, good question, Drake thought. “Well, it’s like this; with all our propane cylinders, we have about twenty-four hours flying time — a lot of that is getting there and back. The plan is we find the plateau, rise above it, and then descend down to the top of it, where we will either tie off the balloon or deflate and store it. We find our man, then reinflate and leave. All up, well within our burn boundary.”

Drake bared his teeth for a moment as he thought it through. “Unfortunately, we do not have a lot of time for sailing around looking for something. We either find it, or we don’t.” He turned to Emma. “If we don’t find it within the first twelve hours, well, we’ll need to head back.”

Emma’s jaw clenched and she didn’t say a word.

Drake stared into her eyes for a few more moments, and bet that as far as she was concerned, there was no way she was returning until she was good and ready. He’d have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

He clapped his big hands together. “Okay, people. We got work to do. In two hours, we are airborne.”

And they were.

CHAPTER 21

Comet P/2018-YG874, designate name, Primordia, was on its approach to the third planet from the sun. The magnetic bow wave that preceded it caused collisions between electrically charged particles in the Earth’s upper atmosphere, creating an aurora borealis effect over the jungles of South America.

In one of the most inaccessible parts of the eastern Venezuelan jungle, clouds began to darken, and in another minute or two, they started to swirl and boil like in a devil’s cauldron, throwing down a torrent of warm rain.

Beneath the clouds, a gigantic tabletop mountain became cloaked in the dense fog, and brutal winds began to smash at its sides and surface. Thunder roared and lightning seemed to come from the sky, air, and even up from the ground itself.

The first of the bestial roars that began to ring out even drowned out the crash of thunder, and before long, the hissing, roars, and screams rose to be like those from the pits of Hell.

It had been ten years since the primordial sounds had been heard in this part of the Amazon, and even the creatures on the jungle floor over 1,000 feet below the plateau scurried away in fear.

It was the wettest season, and Primordia was returning.

CHAPTER 22

The balloon lifting off and soaring above the treetops gave Emma an odd feeling in her stomach. Not so much nausea, but more a sense of unreality as it felt more like she was on a fun park ride instead of a flight into a primordial hell.

Sure, now and then, there was the growling sound of the burners blowing hot air into the canopy, but for the most part, with no engines, there was only the odd creak of rope and squeal of the wicker basket under their feet.

Looking over the side when moving so slowly meant they had time to see and enjoy the jungle below them.

Juan reeled off dozens of photographs as Camilla pointed things out for him to capture. Andy and Helen leaned over together and grinned like school kids as they watched flocks of birds sail over the interwoven branches of the tree canopy. Occasional bands of monkeys stopped to stare up at them and scream, with a few trying to pelt either fruit or dung up at them.

“How’d you like a face full of my dung?” Andy yelled back at them, as Helen gave him the sort of look of distaste that only an older sister could conjure.

After a few hours, Emma stared down almost trance-like, as she tried to make out the winding brackish river they had navigated all those years ago. But she found it impossible to see through the green mesh of the massive trees. The treetops were so thick in this area that it actually looked like solid ground. But she knew it was an illusion as the real ground was another few hundred feet below it.

That permanent twilight world was a green ocean, and below the surface, things swung in branches, hung from tree trunks, and burrowed through leaf litter. There was another entire world hidden down there, and she was thankful they were floating above it, and not having to paddle or trek through it.

Another advantage was even though the balloon moved at around five miles per hour — jogging pace — it was faster than if they were crossing over the ground on foot or canoe. They also were able to travel as the crow flies, thus cutting out miles and miles of meandering river twists and bends.

Camilla came and leaned on the basket edge beside her. “It’s beautiful.”

Emma looked at her briefly and worked hard to resist the urge to tell her to piss off. After another moment, she nodded. “The jungle is a monster, but she hides her fangs well.”

“Most monsters do.” Camilla half-smiled, but her eyes held a quizzical expression. “You never told me how you feel coming back again?”

Emma turned to lean her back against the basket edge. “I’m conflicted — part elation, but scared shitless.”

Camilla snorted. “Sounds like my first marriage.” She continued to stare down at the canopy top. “If we do ever find Ben, I mean, when we do, do you think he’ll be happy to see you?” She tilted her head. “What do you think he’ll say to you?”

Emma’s teeth ground for a second or two as she started to get what the woman was after. It didn’t matter her motives now; they were well on their way. Over her shoulder, once again, her cameraman filmed them.

“I would think he’ll be overjoyed, relieved, disbelieving… ”

“Yes, maybe disbelieving.” Camilla’s smile fell away.

Emma’s brows drew together as she looked down at the smaller woman. “Why did you come? Really?”

Camilla brightened again. “Looking for clues, señorita. I am a journalist; it’s what I do.” She turned to lean her back against the basket railing as well. “My apologies if I seem… intrusive.”

“Intrusive?” Emma snorted. “Yeah, well, you do what you gotta do, and I’ll do the same.” She went to push off the basket railing but paused. “You don’t believe me, do you? About where we’re going and what we’ll experience.” Emma smiled grimly. “You’re in for a surprise, lady.” She went to stand by Drake.

She watched as Fergus worked the burners while Brocke manipulated the vents and flaps that could be opened and closed with a series of cords. This allowed him to inflate or deflate the canopy, or just expel air from one side or the other that would cause the balloon to be gently pushed in the direction they wanted.

The modern balloons also had something akin to a trap door in the top that allowed for rapid drop if needed. In the past, balloons would land, and in strong winds wouldn’t stick the landing, instead getting tipped and dragged. The vent-trap meant they could release a large volume of the hot air quickly and either drop themselves fast and stick, or totally deflate the bag.

Drake turned. “Looking good.”

“Yep,” Emma said. “Took us more than a day to traverse this first part.”

“We just did it in under three hours,” he replied, and then pointed. “I think we’re headed in the right direction.”

In the distance, there was a line of clouds, low and so dark they looked purple. They could just make out the flashes of light within them as lightning was being discharged. It reminded her of those science pictures of electrical impulses within a human brain. Just the sight of it gave her a tingling in her stomach. This is where the shit gets real, she thought.

“Looks like thunderheads,” he said.

“Only looks like it. But it’s something else entirely,” she mumbled in return.

They scudded onwards, moving with the zephyrs and at the time, only a few hundred feet above the treetops.

Emma looked upward and past the enormous, bulging sack of air above her. Where they were at that moment, it was a cloudless, azure blue and seemed empty. But invisible to them within that atmosphere, it was like an ocean with different currents, rivers of air movement, and eddies that swirled in place, dropped or shot upward, and all depending on your height.

There were highways, laneways, and hidden alleys, and if they failed to gain enough traction and forward movement in one lane’s river of moving air, they could simply rise or drop until they found another more suitable stream.

For now, they were headed in the right direction, and with the warm sunlight, calm air, and without even the noises of the jungle below, it was a luxury they needed to soak in, and also gather strength for the ordeal she knew was coming.

Emma looked at each of her team members, and suddenly felt a pang of, what, guilt?

The soldiers looked formidable enough and she was glad they were here. But she had coerced Andy and Helen into coming. She needed them, and though she had told them what to expect, she had never really tried hard to impart the full horrors and dangers involved.

Maybe I’m the monster now, she thought, and let her eyes move to Camilla and Juan. They had bullied themselves into coming, so she felt less concerned about them. In fact, given the direction Camilla was taking with her questions right now, she couldn’t give a shit about the woman.

Besides, even if she had told them what to expect, she bet they would have come anyway. Andy had also told her that some of the questions Camilla had been asking them bordered on being intrusive, and some were even directed more at whether they were worried about Emma, more than where they were going.

Because I’m the monster, remember? She laughed softly, and then turned away to look over the side.

Emma looked down and noticed the treetop canopy had opened out a little. There, finally, a landmark — a clear stream like a sparkling ribbon threaded its way through the green. Colored birds looking more like exotic, tropical fish darted in and out of the branches. It had to be the river of paradise she remembered from their last expedition. And maybe, if it truly was, they were making very good time.

She continued to stare, her mind taking her back to that last time — their sense of joy at finding a place that was Eden-like in such a dangerous jungle. There were green meadows, clear streams full of plump fish, birds, flowers, and clear air, before they then headed into the miasma of a stinking bog. It was like the Promised Land that also came with a warning—Go no further.

But they did anyway.

Her mind then took her to the plateau, and those last few moments all those years ago when she went over the lip of the cliff edge and left Ben behind. They had no choice; the thing that pursued them was going to kill her, and the last glimpse of Ben had shown her his face creased with fear and worry… not for himself, but for her.

She screwed her eyes shut. Please be there, Ben, she silently prayed. She opened her eyes and dispelled the memories, but none of the guilt. Emma breathed in the warm-scented wind of the jungle. Focus, she demanded.

More hours passed, and it was only when the sunshine dimmed did Emma become conscious of the change in the atmosphere. There was also a slight breeze now that ruffled their hair.

The broad scents of fragrant jungle blooms, rotting vegetation, animals, and brackish water were replaced with hints of ozone, as if lightning had just made jagged forks through a night sky. She noticed that the hair on her arms stood on end.

“Look.”

Drake’s voice jolted her out of her reverie. He held up a compass, and she saw that the arrow floated inside and never stayed on true north.

“GPS is gone to shit as well,” Ajax yelled.

“Like you said,” Drake observed. “The magnetic effects have distorted all our electronics.”

“It’s beginning,” she breathed, feeling her own heartbeat quicken. “Now, we get to use what we were born with — eyes, ears, any other senses we can call on to help.” Emma straightened. “But I think it’s pretty clear which direction we need to head.”

In the distance, the cloud was changing, growing, and now looked like a chaotic explosion as a column of cloud swirled like a tornado and now reached high into the atmosphere. Within that dark column, lightning crackled non-stop and forked downward, sideways, and even up into the sky.

“What the hell is that?” Fergus said, his mouth continuing to hang open.

“The finger of God,” Juan said. “Reaching down to the earth.”

“Or maybe, the devil, reaching up from Hell,” Camilla added.

Juan turned and raised an eyebrow. But Camilla just clung to the small crucifix around her neck and gave him a half-smile. “Don’t mind me.” She turned away.

The swirling cloud began to spread out, not into the upper atmosphere, but lower like a fog that crept over the land, and at its center, the huge purple column over just one area of the jungle.

“Well, whether it’s the finger of God or the Devil, it’s pointing the way,” Andy observed.

“Yup.” Drake lifted binoculars to his eyes. “Don’t like the lightning inside it; not good if we get a strike. But it has a low ceiling, and that’s what we want.” He lowered the glasses. “Provided the wind doesn’t get too high, we’ll need to rise above it soon.”

“The column won’t last, but the cloud will.” Emma turned. “The wettest season is here. We better get everyone ready.”

CHAPTER 23

Once again, Ben had covered himself head to toe in greasy mud. He belly-crawled forward and kept his eyes as slits as he lifted his head over the plateau’s edge.

At this time in history, the future flat-topped mountain was only just beginning to have the surrounding jungle weathered down around it. Over the millions and millions of years to come, the jungle would sink, while the harder granite would erode more slowly, making it seem to rise like an island into the sky. But now, it was just a slightly raised area in a vast primordial jungle.

Ben knew there was something different about this raised area. Just like the surrounding jungle, it was home to all manner of creatures, hunters and the hunted. But it was also home to something that was vastly more deadly than any two-legged, razor-toothed theropod.

He glanced up through the trees and saw the thick cloud swirling above him. It’s started, he thought, as a thrill of excitement and impatience ran through him.

The cloud was also starting to drop, creating a misted atmosphere on the plateau, and though slightly cooler, it was still dripping with humidity. He also knew that at its center, the cloudbank would break and rise. But right now, as the comet, Primordia, approached, everything was thrown into chaos — the atmosphere, the weather, the magnetic orientation of the Earth, and even time and space, as a portal or doorway to another reality was opened.

For Ben, that doorway would be to the future, his home. And in that future, the reality was a pathway to right here and now. The plateau itself was only a few square miles. The surface of that tiny landmass was thrown forward or the future backward, but only for a little over 24 hours. And at the end of that period, when the comet pulled away and the time distortion ended, the two realities went back to being ordered once again. And anything left behind on the plateau would find itself back here, just like he did.

He moved his head slowly, no fast movements, scanning the undergrowth before him. He let his eyes move over the dense jungle, the broad and fleshy leaves and bulbous hanging fruits. There were the tangling vines, some with hooked barbs that tore at the flesh, cycads, and tongue-like ferns. There were massive trees that climbed into the clouds, some recognizable as being primitive pines, ginkgos, and redwoods. Many had fungi, like flatbread growing out from their trunks, and their lower branches had what looked like strings of green pearls hanging from them.

There were also trees he was now familiar with but had no idea what names to call them. The ones with bark-like course hair, or plated scales, or even a surface that looked like popped rice.

He was horribly familiar with all of them, but he was still as much an alien in this world, as if he had crashed here in a spacecraft from another planet. Tiny, soft little human beings didn’t belong here, and when their time came to rule, it would only be because the land giants had all departed into a fossilized history.

Ben licked dry lips. He knew time was his enemy now. If Emma was coming, he needed to find her quickly. But where would she be? She was a climber, so the odds were she would be coming up over the cliff edge, somewhere. And from there, he’d have to make some educated guesses, and try and get in her head and think like her.

Perhaps she might decide that a good place to start was somewhere they both knew — the site of their first entry. It was a familiar place and somewhere they could rendezvous. If there was a chance she was there, then that’s where I’ll be too, he thought.

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?”

Emma had her own gun drawn and turned to look out into the impenetrable cloud. “We never got close to them. But we saw them in the skies. Pterosaurs.”

“Terror-what?” Ajax yelled back, his lips curled.

“Flying dinosaurs,” Andy replied. “Well, flying reptiles actu—”

“They can fucking fly?” Ajax just shook his head, and everyone turned back to the cloud.

“Why does the cloud suddenly seem creepier now I know that?” Brocke said, chuckling nervously.

“How big are they? Will they attack us?” Drake asked, trying to see through the billowing mist.

“They were undoubtedly territorial,” Andy replied. “And some of them were very big.”

“Bigger than a condor or albatross?” Brocke asked.

“Well, the sea-going albatross has the largest wingspan of any living bird today,” Andy began. “They can spread wings up to twelve feet, tip to tip. But they usually only weigh in at under twenty six pounds.”

Helen turned. “But there were species of pterosaur that were literally flying giants. They weighed in at seven hundred pounds, and one of them, the Arambourgiania, had a wingspan of over forty feet, and on the ground would have stood taller than a giraffe.”

“Okay, so big then,” Brocke stated, nodding.

“Good. ‘Cause, the bigger they are, the bigger the target.” Ajax grinned cruelly.

And the bigger they are, the more damage they can do to the balloon, Drake thought. He spoke over his shoulder. “Fergus, give me another ten-second blast. I don’t want one of those flying giraffes crashing into us.”

It was too late. An enormous shadow came out of the swirling mist and materialized as a leathery vision from hell. It hit the side of the basket and clung there like an obscene bat. A massive wedge-shaped head, furious red eyes, and a beak three feet long lined with backward-pointing teeth lunged inside.

Screams, yells, and the screeching of something from Earth’s dawn caused a chaotic panic in the crowded basket.

It’s a man in a Halloween mask, Drake thought insanely. For the first time in decades, he felt the electric jolt of pure fear run through him. It looked like a giant man in a leathery suit and weird ugly mask that was clinging to the side of their basket. And the bastard must have been heavy as it dragged down one of their sides.

“Out of the way!” Drake yelled as he ducked and weaved, gun up, trying to take a shot.

Juan screamed as the beak opened and snapped shut on his arm, and then tugged. His feet came off the ground, and Brocke dived and grabbed one of his ankles. Emma did the same to the other leg and a tug of war ensued for a few seconds.

“Hit the deck,” Drake yelled.

Camilla, Helen, and Andy dove to the floor, and gunfire rang out as Ajax, Brocke, and Drake poured dozens of rounds into the thing. Blood spurted, the screech turned to a scream of pain as the massive creature let go, and Juan fell back to the floor of the basket, wailing and gripping a torn arm.

Emma jumped up and peered over the side in time to see the huge body fall away in the swirling cloud.

“Jesus Christ,” Fergus yelled. “A fucking monster.”

Drake still had his gun pointed out at the boiling fog as more huge shadows began to loom.

“Fergus, get us out of here, now.”

Fergus pulled hard on the throttle lever, and gas jetted out like a dragon’s roar. The balloon jerked upward so fast it made the group hunker down to maintain their balance.

Emma gripped one of the ropes to stay upright and also had her M4 carbine under her arm and her legs braced. Between Drake, herself, Brocke, and Ajax, they had all four quadrants covered, and in another few moments, the looming shadows were left behind.

“I see sky,” Fergus yelled.

“Thank the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” Camilla stammered.

Emma saw she was holding a cloth against Juan’s arm that was already stained scarlet. Her lips moved in silent prayer.

“Let me help.” Helen scooted over and peeled it back. “Okay.” She pulled out the first-aid kit.

Emma knelt beside her. “Bad?” She saw underneath the man was a growing stain of dark blood on the basket’s wicker flooring.

“Gonna need stitches, and… ” she rummaged, “… yes, we have a needle and thread in the kit.”

Helen went back to feeling up and down the lacerated arm. “Doesn’t feel like a break, so that’s a good thing. Hold your breath.” She liberally poured iodine onto a cloth and wiped it over the gashes.

Juan grimaced and sucked in a breath.

“Can you move your fingers?” Helen asked.

The cameraman wiggled all five and nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s good; also means there’s probably no tendon damage.” She held a cloth on the wound and lunged forward to grab Camilla’s hand.

“Here, keep your hand pressed down here.” Once again, she rummaged through the kit. “Damn, no morphine, so… ”

She held out three oxycodone to Juan. “Take these. I’m going to have to stitch it and wrap it tight. You’re losing too much blood.”

“Yes, please, go ahead.” He threw down the tablets dry and swallowed several times to force them down. Juan then tugged the remains of his now tattered and very red sleeve up as high as he could manage.

Helen expertly threaded a needle with nylon twine, and then eased Camilla’s hand away. She squeezed the folds of ripped flesh together, pushed the needle right through, and then began to sew, pulling the ragged lips of the wound tightly closed as she went.

Juan’s brows came together and his lips pressed so hard they went white, but to his credit, he never made a sound.

In another few moments, she had bandaged it and then rubbed his shoulder. “Now that’s a scar with a story behind it.”

Juan held out his arm so Emma, Helen, and Camilla could pull him to his feet. He patted the bandage and wore a devilish smile. “I’m going to be famous.” He staggered for a moment. “Oops.”

“Easy, might be a little shock setting in.” Helen hung onto him.

Juan gripped her arm to steady himself. After a moment, he looked up into her face. “Thank you.” He held on, and the corner of his mouth turned up. “You are a very good woman. Are you single?”

Camilla groaned. “He’s back to his old self.”

Helen slapped his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s just the oxy talking. Let me know if it gets itchy or the pain increases. We don’t know what that big guy might have left behind when it bit you.”

Blue sky opened above them, and sunlight streamed down on top of the balloon. Drake took one last look around, and then reholstered his gun. He eased forward to look out and upward, feeling the dry sunshine on his face for a moment, before facing down. As he did, he slipped a little on Juan’s blood on the basket floor. First chance he got, he’d clean that up. If Emma was right about there being big predators on the plateau, they didn’t want fresh blood spread over their home base.

Drake also saw that Juan was up cradling his arm, but his face was still pale. He came through it okay and didn’t think shock would be a problem. The Special Forces soldier looked over the side and down again — below them, the thick clouds were like a field of purple cotton. And within the boiling, angry mass, lightning forked to light up portions as though there were Christmas lights hidden in there somewhere.

“No way we’re dropping back down into that,” Ajax seethed. “Freaking nightmare.”

“What put you off?” Fergus grinned. “The zero visibility, high winds, or flying monsters?”

“Fuck you,” Ajax fumed.

“He’s right,” Drake observed. “Can’t chance dropping into that cauldron again.” As he watched, the entire mass slowly rotated, like dirty bathwater circling a plug.

“There.” Emma pointed.

Drake saw it. “Fergus, Brocke, 10 o’clock.”

All other heads turned to where Emma was pointing. The dark and slowly turning clouds seemed to dip into a sort of vortex. Fergus and Brocke opened and closed flaps, expertly maneuvering the balloon closer. It took them another 30 minutes until they edged over the vortex.

“Ho-oooly shit.” Andy grinned. “I think I can see jungle down there… and a lake. But it’s sort of … distorted, oily.”

“I expected that,” Emma said. “I believe there’s some sort of barrier, like a partition layer, magnetic waves or something, between our time and the past. It’s probably what stops those pterodons from flying away. We’ll need to pass through it.”

“Cool,” Andy said and turned back to hang over the basket’s side.

Drake leaned further out and held his binoculars to his eyes. “No clearings for landings that I can see.” He looked to Emma. “Were there any you can recall?”

Emma bobbed her head. “The only open spaces we encountered were at the jungle’s end — right on the plateau edge.”

“That’s where you said it ended up becoming like a hurricane?” Ajax threw in.

“That’s right.” Emma turned. “Hopefully, we’ll be gone long before then.”

Drake was looking down through the binoculars again. “It’s not a huge plateau to search, so the plan is we’re in and out quickly.”

“Not too quickly,” Andy said.

Drake saw Emma turn away. She’s hiding something, he thought. He didn’t like it. Lack of information on a dangerous mission got people killed.

“We’re over the center, boss,” Fergus intoned. “What are your orders?”

Drake looked to Emma. “Okay?”

She nodded.

“Take her down, Mr. O’Reilly.”

“Aye, aye.” He opened the top bag vent and let out some hot air. Immediately, the balloon started to drop in the air. “And, going down.”

“Hoo-wee. Next stop, ladies stockings, haberdashery, and freaking dinosaurs, man.” Ajax grinned ear to ear.

Emma gripped the edge of the basket hard as the balloon dropped into the funnel-like vortex in the clouds. Her heart hammered in her chest, and even though she had been mentally preparing herself for a decade, now that she was actually doing it, a growing ball of nausea in her stomach told her she was fooling herself to believe she had it all under control.

She also knew that once down there, it wasn’t the plateau at all. In fact, it had seemed more like a tiny slice of an entire world, not ours, and so ancient as to be unrecognizable to tiny, soft, and modern creatures like us.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, would everyone be ready for a fast disembark when we hit the ground?” Drake said. “We don’t know what we might encounter, but as we’ll be coming down big and slow, if anything looks up, we might be perceived as some sort of big fat bird coming in to roost.”

“You mean like something’s big fat dinner?” Camilla asked.

Drake just shrugged, but Emma knew everyone got the point. Backpacks were checked, loaded, and zipped. The civilians’ weapons were holstered and anything not secured was strapped down. The soldiers rechecked their weapons and held them ready.

The balloon approached the oily film-like layer that almost seemed like a cap over the land below, and as the basket touched it, it actually slowed in the air as though it was a type of membrane. Helen reached over and stuck a hand out as the basket settled through it like they were sinking into it.

“It’s sort of like… thick oil. But it’s dry.” She wiggled her fingers in the air as the basket eased down through the layer, a little like it had landed on the ocean and was now slowly sinking.

“More like some sort of distortion layer,” Emma said. “Between our time and theirs.”

Helen frowned as she leaned over. “I can hear something.”

The balloon settled further down into the layer by another few feet.

“Sort of like, um, whistling.” Helen looked up. “Or howling.”

“Howling?” Drake’s eyes widened. “Wind.”

They dropped all the way through the membrane layer, and then all hell broke loose.

The balloon and basket were grabbed by hurricane-force winds that acted like a mighty hand pulling and tearing at them. Immediately, the bag of the balloon was dragged down, and the entire basket went sideways. Bodies slid and crashed to the side, and equipment also skidded, smashing into them and also some bouncing and then disappearing over the side railing.

Juan yelled in despair as his camera case bounced once, twice, and then sailed into space.

“Hang on!” Drake yelled over the roar of the wind.

Emma screwed her eyes to slits and hung onto one of the basket’s ropes as she tried to remain upright. The wind was like a living thing; it was loud, had a physical presence, and seemed goddamn angry.

It became obvious that the strange distortion effect over the land not only separated the two worlds, but also had a layer of super agitated air between them, like the very planes of reality were rebelling against each other.

In the next second, Andy lost his grip on the basket’s railing, fell, and then slid into Fergus’ legs, knocking him over. As the soldier’s hands were knocked away from the burner, the jet shot up to its maximum three-foot flame.

The envelope of the balloon was treated with significant flame retardant, so they didn’t catch fire like the Hindenburg Airship. But that doesn’t mean they can’t burn — they can, but instead of catching fire, they melt, and to Emma’s horror, she watched as a four-foot hole was seared through the side of the balloon.

Gas heaved out, and the bag began to rapidly deflate as the wind continued to pummel the huge floating sack, squeezing even more of the hot air from it.

The balloon immediately dropped a hundred feet, as people yelled, screamed, and tried to hang on. Eventually, the balancing act between lighter-than-air travel, and gravity, is always won by gravity.

The upside was they passed out of the wind agitation layer, but they were coming down now at a rate of about 10 miles per hour, and as the balloon continued to deflate, they accelerated, going from balloon rate, to parachute rate, to falling at a rate that was going to mean serious injury, or death.

Drake struggled to his feet. He dragged himself to the basket’s edge and peered over.

“Coming down…!” and then, “… on water!”

Oh shit, no, Emma thought.

“Bra-aaace!” The big man bent his knees.

The basket struck hard, and it was like a bomb going off, as they were all crushed flat to the bottom of the basket.

And they bounced. Bodies, equipment and supplies lifted and dropped again. Juan, who could only hold on with one arm, landed on top of Emma and his elbow smashed her lip, cutting it.

They were all thrown to one side of the large basket, and it immediately caused it to tip. Water began to pour over the side as they settled.

Emma pushed the big Venezuelan off and climbed to her feet. They were toward the middle of a lake, the lake, and she quickly looked one way, then the other to get her bearings.

“Out, out, out.” She grabbed Juan and dragged him up. “Swim, swim… ” She pointed to the closest bank. “Drake, to the shore, there. Fast.”

The soldiers were tossing packs over the side, and also helped in pushing people out. In another few seconds, the basket was inundated and beginning to sink.

She went over the side and found herself next to Drake. “Well, we’re here, and at least we’re alive,” he said glumly.

Emma’s head spun left and right. “We’ve got to get out of the water.”

“We will.” He trod water beside her. “But we need our equipment.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She grabbed at him. “Something… ” She coughed out some water. “… lives in here.”

Drake stared for a second or two before he got it. “Jesus Christ; everyone goddamn swim!”

He yelled as he watched the balloon start to sink. “Hurry, get away from the bag when it starts to go down. It’ll snag you and take you with it.”

Drake trod water for a moment as he watched his men set off, pushing packs before them, or stroking one-armed. Andy and Helen were already swimming away strongly. But Camilla was struggling and looked like she barely knew how to keep afloat let alone swim.

Emma headed for her, but Drake headed her off. “I’ll get Camilla, you get to the shore. You’re bleeding. Go.”

She felt her lip, and the sting of the cut there — blood in the water — bad news. She started to swim, now feeling vulnerable in the open lake. The sun shone down strongly, but below her, there was nothing but a deep, dark blackness. Added to that, it was brackish and warm—blood warmth, she thought morbidly.

They were strung out in the water, separated now by a good 100 feet. Some of the soldiers were close to the bank, and in fact, it looked like Brocke had already clambered up and dropped off his package.

She was mid-way. Behind her, the balloon was just a colored lump at water level, already being dragged down by the basket. Debris littered the surface.

Well back, she saw that Drake now had Camilla on his back. The woman had her arms around his neck and the big man breaststroked with her along for the ride.

“Dammit.” Emma hovered in the water. Even further back, Juan splashed, only just staying above the surface. He held his bandaged arm up, as though trying to keep the already-soaked bandages dry. But even from where she floated, she could see that the gauze was leaking red.

“Just damn swim.” She grimaced, and then turned about, indecision wracking her. She was about to try and swim over to get him, when she heard splashing behind her. Emma spun, eyes wide.

Brocke grinned and motioned with his head. “Head in, Emma, I got this.” He winked. “Used to be the state swim champ.”

She felt relieved, and before she could even thank him, the young soldier put his head down and powered on.

“Keep moving!” Drake yelled to her, spitting water as he tried to keep himself and Camilla afloat.

Emma nodded and was about to turn back, when she spotted the large, dark lump on the surface. She felt a shock run right through her body.

She prayed it was something that came down with them and had floated away but knew that was a lie. She froze, and all she could do was watch.

The thing was big, and she had no idea what was still below the surface, but the one thing she was sure of was that thing didn’t come from their balloon and sure as hell wasn’t there when they came down.

Emma continued to stare, and her chin began to tremble even though the water was like a warm bath. Then, to her horror, the small island began to sink, ever so slowly, and just as the lump vanished, it was immediately replaced by the familiar V-shaped water pattern of something moving just beneath the surface. And its destination was clear — straight at Juan.

“He-eeey!”

She forced her body to unlock, and then launched herself high in the water, waving madly to Juan and to Brocke. Everyone else was on the bank now and could only watch. Drake caught up to her and turned.

“It’s going for them,” she spluttered.

Drake pushed the woman off his shoulders and Camilla immediately latched onto Emma. The soldier then dragged his M4 rifle off his back and hung in the water, arms up and the gun pointed.

“Goddamnit, no shot.” He turned to Emma. “Get to the bank, we can’t do shit here.” Then he spun to his remaining men on the water’s edge, yelling so loud it echoed across the lake.

“Give Brocke some cover. We got company.”

It both heard and felt the impact through the water. It sensed the thing that struck was large, so for the first few seconds, it slid below the surface to hide.

The freshwater mosasaur was a smaller variety to its giant sea-going cousins, but was still nearly 40 feet long, squat, and powerful. It had four paddle-like flippers that were the last vestiges of limbs, plus a scythe-like tail akin to that of a dolphin. It was a powerful water hunter, and an expert ambush predator.

It knew that the thing that landed would be either a threat or food. And as no attack came, it decided it might be prey instead of predator.

Then it began to feel the thrashing of smaller creatures on the surface, and gently rose up to investigate. Though the huge lake had many varieties of fish, it supplemented its diet by also taking the land-based animals that wandered too close to the water.

It saw the thrashing bodies, strung out in a long line, leaving a large mass behind. Its long tail thrashed and propelled it forward, with just the top of its head showing. As it approached, it moved into attack-ambush mode and dropped down another foot, so the only telltale sign was a V-shaped wave on the surface as it closed in.

When it was within 50 feet of the creatures, it then smelled the blood in the water — rich, salty, and nutritious. The things were edible. It selected its target and began to accelerate.

Brocke reached Juan and pulled the man close. “Gotcha, big guy. Gotta get outta here now.”

Juan held up his torn hand and arm, still spluttering. “Can’t swim, can’t.”

Brocke grabbed him and immediately saw the idiot had one of his huge cameras still hanging around his neck. He grabbed it and ripped it up and over his head, tossing it over his shoulder where it splashed and vanished.

“Hey.” Juan’s eyes widened.

“Shut up.” Brocke grabbed his shirt. “Listen, there’s something in the lake. You swim, and you don’t look back. Understand.”

“Something in the water?” Juan’s brow furrowed and his head snapped around. “Shit.”

Brocke pushed him at the shoreline. “Just swim.”

Juan threw one arm over, and then the other that resulted in a shortened deformed stroke from his wounded arm, but at least he was moving. Brocke hung back for a moment, letting his face sink to nose level and his eyes just on the surface. He looked along its top, scanning about. He couldn’t see anything. He knew that might not be a good thing.

He felt his testicles start to shrivel and knew there was nothing but deep, dark water underneath them.

“Fuck it, I’m outta here.” He started to swim as well.

He kept his head above the water as he stroked this time. He didn’t want to outpace Juan, but he also wanted to see and hear what was going on. Maybe, he hoped, the thing was spending its time investigating the balloon as it sank. Maybe, he hoped even harder, it got caught up in the rigging and was being dragged down to the bottom.

He looked ahead to Juan who was now only 10 feet in front of him. The man’s wounded arm was still bandaged, and the blood that had soaked it had now washed away… into the water.

Please, I hope whatever this thing is, it’s not like a shark who can smell the blood in the water, he prayed.

There was something about being a soldier that had seen active service, and in extreme hot zones, that seemed to heighten the senses to danger; call it a soldier’s sixth sense. And right now, those sensory alarms were screaming in his head.

There was clear and present danger, and a pending attack. Brocke felt a calm come over him and he stopped and trod water, bicycling his legs to keep his upper body above the surface. He drew his M4 from over his shoulder.

He spun, and not six feet away, the thing’s head surfaced. It was like a smooth alligator, but bigger, so much bigger.

From where the eyes sat toward the back of the skull, he could just make out about six feet of snout and jaws. The thing turned a little, regarding him with one large, predatorial eye.

Any normal man would have been frozen in fear or been reduced to a screaming pile of insanity. But instead, Brocke kicked hard in the water and launched himself high. As he lifted, he pointed his weapon and yelled a battle cry that carried right across the lake.

The creature also lunged, perhaps stirred by the activity. It became a test of which killer would be quicker.

Brocke never got to fire a shot.

On the shoreline, they watched with a mix of horror and fury. Helen had hands up on each side of her head, and a small sound escaped her lips like that from a tiny, frightened animal. Camilla sat down and turned away, her lips moving rapidly. But Andy was riveted.

Drake, Fergus, and Ajax had waded back into the water, guns tight to their shoulders, but the attack was too far out for them to do anything but watch, teeth bared in impotent rage.

Emma stared as the animal surged and then jaws that were longer than the man sprung open and closed over Brocke, snapping shut with an audible clack like a bear trap closing. The massive beast’s momentum took it upward and its huge body lumped in the water before diving again. A tail as long as a Buick flapped in the air, and then in only a few more seconds, the surface of the lake returned to calm.

Drake lowered his weapon and let his eyes drop to Juan who was nearing the shore. He half-turned to his men.

“Get him out.”

“What the fuck was that?” Ajax’s voice was high.

“Freshwater mosasaur,” Helen breathed. “Probably.”

“They’re usually sea-going creatures, and those guys can get to seventy feet.” Andy stared out into the lake. “But they also lived in large bodies of fresh water. And grew pretty big there as well.”

“No shit,” Ajax seethed, and then spun back to the lake. “Fu-uuuuuuk!” He continued to roar his curse as he fired a long burst into the water, throwing up a zipper of sprays out to where Brocke had been taken.

“Stow that!” Drake yelled.

The young soldier spun to Emma and jabbed his finger at her. “She knew. She fucking knew that thing was in there.”

“Shut it.” Drake showed his teeth. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not in fucking Kansas anymore.”

Ajax still stared from under lowered brows. “If we had—”

“Nothing,” Drake cut him off. “So what if she did? We crashed, remember? We weren’t supposed to be anywhere near a goddamn lake.”

Ajax continued to glare as Fergus helped Juan up onto the bank, and his jaws tightened for a moment before he marched over and jammed the muzzle of his rifle into the Venezuelan’s stomach.

“Why didn’t it take this fat piece of shit? He’s the one bleeding and probably attracted it.”

“So are you,” Emma said softly.

Ajax looked down his body to see blood seeping through his pants. He slapped the wound hard. “Fuck it.” He turned away, cursing even more.

Drake looked down at Juan who was now up onto the bank and lying down, breathing hard.

“Brocke, our brave soldier and friend, died doing what we were designed to do, what we were bred to do — protect people.” He looked up into Emma’s eyes. “That is our lot.” He turned to Fergus first, who nodded, and then to the sullen Ajax.

Emma looked around, trying to get her bearings. It was the same, and it was different to how she remembered: alien.

Huge trees launched up into the sky, but between them, there were stands of strange plants that looked like 30-foot-high green pompoms on sticks. Spiky-looking cycads spread wide on the ground, in between ferns with strappy or broad, pulpy fronds, and stuff that looked like hanging beads that might have been fruit, seedpods, or maybe even insect eggs, for all she knew.

Emma sighed. “We need to move. And we need to be silent. There are hunters everywhere.”

“Equipment and supplies check, everyone,” Drake said, and the group quickly looked over what they managed to salvage.

Emma looked back out to the lake. A few packages, boxes, and assorted flotsam and jetsam bobbed there. They might as well have been on the far side of the moon, as no one was going to get them.

Fergus squatted by his packs, forearms on his thighs. “Good ammunition for the M4s, we’ve got a dozen grenades for the launchers, and a few spare mags for the SIG Sauer; not so bad.” He looked up. “A defensible ordnance. Not enough to make war, but enough to stand our ground.”

Drake grunted. “Good. We only need to do that for twenty-four hours.”

Andy and Helen sorted through some other packs. “A bottle of water each, water purifiers, and some protein bars.” She sighed. “I’ve got some personal medical supplies, but the medical kit wasn’t stored away after Juan, so… ”

“So it’s lost.” Drake exhaled through his nose. “Okay, overall, could have been a lot worse.”

Ajax scoffed. “Jesus, man, are you missing the fucking elephant in the phone booth here?” His face was flushed and eyes wide. “The balloon’s gone; you know, that big fucking thing we were gonna fly out in?”

“We climb down,” Fergus said evenly.

“Oh yeah, how? If Ben really has been here ten years, why didn’t he climb down then? He was top-notch Special Forces guy. If anyone coulda done it, he could have.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Emma stepped forward. “If Ben had climbed down at any time other than when the portal was open, he’d be climbing down into the world as it was a 100 million years ago.”

“So he needs to try it now?” Andy queried.

“Exactly,” Emma replied. “Now that the two time zones have been thrust up against each other.”

“Now?” Helen repeated, her gaze flat. “Now, when the plateau is as high as the top of the Empire State Building.”

Emma turned, her voice quieter. “We’ll find a way.”

“Oh, we’re fucked.” Ajax threw his hands up and walked in a circle.

“We’re alive. So I think you just won the lottery,” Emma said. “Coulda been worse… just ask Brocke.”

Ajax’s eyes bulged for a moment, but he kept his mouth shut.

“We gotta move,” Drake said. He turned to Emma. “You think Ben might have tried to get to the cliff edge? Where you scaled down?”

She nodded. “It’s where I’d go.”

“Then that’s where we try first. How far?” Drake asked.

Emma pointed. “Miles, I don’t know. This isn’t part of the jungle we went through. But it took us about four hours to get there. We followed a stream… but that was a mistake.”

“Why?” Helen asked.

Emma turned. “Because that was where the snake found us.”

Helen stared. “The snake, our snake?”

Emma nodded.

“Oh Jesus.” Helen rubbed her face.

Andy put his arm around her shoulders. “This is crazy, but I want to see it, and I also don’t want to see it. I can’t help it, I’m a scientist.”

Helen gave him a horrified look. “Not sure I do now.”

“Trust me; you don’t want to see it either,” Emma said, sounding wearied.

Andy looked around and saw everyone’s expressions. “Okay, yeah, well then let’s avoid following the river.”

They loaded up, Drake checked the group, and then ordered Fergus to lead them out. Emma stood staring back out over the water, and he came closer.

“I was going to go back for Juan,” she said. “But Brocke took my place.”

Drake exhaled and nodded. “Well then… I guess it was just his time, and not yours.” He turned to her. “Five minutes in, and we’re already one down,” he said softly. “I don’t intend to lose any more.”

She half-turned to him for a moment and studied his face. After a few more seconds, she just grunted and turned back to the water. She bet he didn’t intend to lose Brocke either. This place makes the decisions, not us, she thought bleakly.

“Come on, let’s catch up.” She headed into the jungle.

CHAPTER 26

Drake crouched and scanned the undergrowth. Jungles were crap places to make war. There were so many potential places of concealment that it rendered the human eye next to useless. As a Special Forces soldier, he was trained to identify shapes — heads, faces, human forms, even if those shapes were fragmented and broken up by camouflage. But in here, that’s not the type of adversaries they were trying to avoid.

In jungles, human camouflage was reaching new levels of sophistication thanks largely to technology. He heard that the next thing to come off the production line was real invisibility tech that grabbed surrounding landscapes and projected the images onto a uniform. The result was that you didn’t just blend into the environment, you became part of it.

But evolution, not technology, ruled in this place. Things had evolved to hide, and wait, and not be seen while they were doing it. Drake had been in jungles all over the world and witnessed how some creatures were able to change the colors of their skin, use weird body shapes to merge with their surroundings, and even pretend to be something else entirely.

He’d read Emma’s report. And basically, right here, right now, there were animals that had that ability, except were a hundred times bigger and meaner. And that worried the hell out of him.

He looked down again at the print in the mud — three-toed, many inches deep, and had to be close to six feet long; whatever made it weighed several tons.

Drake turned to the group; all had eyes on him bar Camilla and Juan. The cameraman was sitting down and looking flushed in the face. Camilla was holding a water bottle to his lips. The guy had lost plenty of blood and now was being asked to push himself beyond his limits—tough; there was no other option.

Drake clicked his fingers to get Helen’s attention and waved her over. Emma and Andy came with her.

He pointed to the mud. “Like your expert opinion here.”

“Jesus.” Helen touched the print gently with the tips of her fingers.

“Big theropod carnivore.” Andy rested on his haunches. “Aucasaurus?”

“Hmm, no, I think bigger,” Helen replied.

“Carnotaurus? That bad boy was a local down here and grew to thirty feet in length. Stood nearly ten feet tall and weighed in at about three tons.” Andy raised his eyebrows.

“Look; this is hard soil, and check again the depths of the print.” Helen turned to look at her brother. “Think even bigger.”

“Oh wow,” Andy breathed. “Giganotosaurus.”

“Okay, I only got the first part of that.” Fergus crouched beside them. “But I’m betting anything with the word gigantic on the front of it has got to be bad news.”

“The baddest,” Andy replied. “It was the biggest shark-toothed dinosaur that lived in these parts during the Late Cretaceous Period.”

“Shark-toothed, huh?” Fergus’ mouth twisted. “Well, that sounds fucked up.”

“Yeah, and I hear it only ate redheads.” Drake raised a brow at him.

“Ate everything,” Andy said. “Had an oversized head and jaws, giving it massive bite power, plus ten-inch-long serrated teeth.”

“Jesus.” Fergus ran a hand up through his sweaty hair and Andy went on.

“Walked on two large and powerful hind legs, small three-clawed arms, and was up to forty feet long, fifteen feet high.” The young paleontologist made both his hands into three-fingered hooks. “And even though it weighed in at about thirteen tons, it was extremely fast and agile.”

“Yeah, well that motherfucker is going to be even faster when it gets a grenade up its ass. Let’s see it run fast with a three-foot hole in its gut.” Ajax grinned down at them like a death’s head.

“Were they solitary hunters?” Emma asked.

“We think so,” Helen replied. “The mega alphas tended to be territorial, so they pushed anything else out, even their own kind. Mating season excluded.”

“Good.” Emma looked up. “The big guys were a nightmare. But it was the smaller ones that hunted in packs that were the real threat. They moved like greased lightning. Hard to outrun them.”

“That fast?” Fergus asked.

“Think of a cheetah crossed with an alligator.” Emma gave him a humorless smile.

Fergus turned to Drake. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Drake scoffed. “This from the guy who said he missed the action only six months back.” He looked across to Emma. “Anything else you can tell us, based on your experience?”

Emma thought for a moment. “Their colors are more striking and varied than you can imagine.”

“Like you said about the Titanoboa?” Andy queried.

“The what?” Ajax asked.

“The snake.” Drake frowned. “You read Emma’s report, right?”

The huge soldier just shrugged. “Some of it.”

“Good prep, soldier. Since when did you start going on missions without doing your homework?” Drake glared.

“One, this ain’t a mission, and two, who thought any of this shit was actually going to be real?” He glared back.

“In this place, reality comes at you fast,” Emma said dismissively, and then turned back to Andy. “As for body markings, mostly striped or blotched with colors ranging from brick red, to shades of green and brown.”

“If they’re motionless in dappled light, they’ll be invisible,” Drake said.

“Until you walk right into them,” Andy said.

“I read Emma’s notes on the snake. Is it as big a threat to us as she says?” Fergus stared hard at the young scientist.

Andy took in a deep breath. “The Titanoboa was the largest snake that ever lived. Its fossil remains were found right around these parts. They were deep in a coalmine. At this point, we don’t know if it was down there due to sedimentary settling, it lived there, or just crawled down there to die.” He rested on his haunches and picked up a stick. He cleared away some dirt and began to draw.

“One of the biggest snakes alive today is the Asiatic reticulated python. Grows to about thirty feet in length and can weigh in at five hundred pounds.” He had drawn a stick figure of a man, and a squiggly line, the snake, next to him. The snake was enormous and five times the size of the human. He looked up at Ajax. “About twice your body weight I’d say.”

“Big sucker,” Ajax replied.

“It certainly is… today.” Andy grinned up at him. “But it’s an earthworm compared to what existed in our primordial past.” He began to draw again. “Those fossils the scientists discovered in that mine just a few years back had paleontologists estimating its length to be well over fifty feet. But here’s the kicker, they had no idea whether the specimen found might even have been representative of the largest of its kind, so they could have grown bigger, much bigger.”

Andy finished his drawing and looked up, brows raised. “Imagine, a snake fifty, seventy, feet long?” He dropped the stick. “They called the snake Titanoboa; the name says it all. And it wasn’t just long, but solid muscle that was as thick around as a small car.”

Fergus rubbed his face hard, and Ajax seemed to be brooding as he took it all in. The picture now showed a monstrous snake; thick, powerful, that made the stick figure look like a bite-sized toy.

“One more thing,” Emma said. “It wasn’t slow moving. It was quick, very quick. For something so big, it moved like lightning.”

“And thus ends the motivation session.” Drake checked his weapon and cradled it in his arms. “We need to do our jobs, and then work on getting the hell home. Any questions?”

Andy got to his feet and wiped his hands off. “I still want to see one.” He looked at Helen. “Just a glimpse… but from a distance.” He smiled crookedly.

“No,” Emma said. “Just forget it. If you see it, it means it’ll have already have seen you. And then you’re dead.”

“Well, maybe,” Andy said, and his eyes gleamed. “But just imagine a snake that big.”

“I don’t need to imagine,” Emma shot back.

Andy continued to beam, and Fergus nudged Drake with an elbow. “Jesus, look at this kid, will ya? He’s lovin’ being here.”

“Beats working in a museum.” Andy waggled his eyebrows.

Drake sighed. “Come on, move out.”

CHAPTER 27

Ben slithered through the undergrowth and stopped to rest as his head spun from dizziness. The wounds on his chest felt like they were on fire. Three deep gauges, and he was sure he had fractured ribs from that big bastard landing on him.

But just as big fish ate small fish, it was also true that big fish got eaten by even bigger fish. While Ben was being mauled, and he thought his number was finally up, something had burst from the jungle and scooped up the seven-foot-tall theropod standing on his chest like it weighed nothing. The others of its pack had fled screeching in panic back into the undergrowth.

Ben didn’t wait to hand out thank yous, but instead ignored the pain and ran between a pair of clawed feet that must have been six feet long. One thing he’d found out about being in the vicinity of a big carnivore was that everything else headed for the hills. So the jungle had been empty on his blind run.

But now, he had other priorities. Wounds festered, and even a minor cut could mean blood poisoning if not attended to.

He slithered on, finally seeing what he was looking for. He pulled himself into the patch of thick grasses, choosing the greenest stalks and carefully tugging them from the damp soil. He was careful not to dislodge the bulbs as they came up. He quickly shelled one the size of his thumb, and then stuck it in his mouth, grinding the bitter plant root down to pulp, and then spat the mush back onto his hand.

Maybe one day the plant would evolve into an onion or garlic. But as he hoped when he first found them, whatever it was, it was close enough to contain a potent chemical called allicin that was a powerful natural antibiotic.

With his vision blurring from pain, Ben smeared the salve into the chest wounds, feeling the agony as he rubbed the bitter mush into the torn flesh. The extra bonus was the odor of the root masked the smell of open wounds. He chewed some more, his jaw working slowly as he made sure to liberally coat all his wounds. He then finally tugged up some more bulbs and stuck them into a sack which was the last shred of his shirt that had long given up as a garment of wear.

Ben’s head swam, and he crawled and dragged himself under a huge palm frond, hoping he was concealed as he spun away into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 28

The trek was slow, arduous, and hampered by the thick tangle of vines, bracken-like fern fronds, and the occasional hooked thorn that punctured even their tough jungle clothing. It was also slowed by their caution, as Drake would ease through the tangle, rather than hack his way.

Fergus was taking his turn out at point and was first into the clearing. “Ho-oooly shit.” He turned and pointed out the obvious.

“This is bullshit.” Ajax’s lip curled as he also stared. “This doesn’t make sense; there were people back then? I thought that evolution stuff told us humans didn’t appear until only a few thousand years ago.”

“Millions actually. In fact, 4.4 millions,” Andy added.

Fergus turned to Emma. “This can’t be real.”

The building was ancient, massive stone blocks, columns and mighty carvings, but now eroded and beginning to crumble.

“I’m guessing it can and it can’t be,” Drake said. “Just like us being here can’t be real.”

“He’s right,” Emma agreed. “The way we climbed up originally began in a secret passage in a structure like this. The locals, perhaps the Pemon’s ancestors, knew about this place and the wettest season. We think they’d been coming up here for hundreds or maybe even thousands of years and feeding the creatures.”

“Magnificent,” Helen remarked. “Of course they’d feed them, by sacrificing themselves to them. But in their minds, they were honoring them. And if they built this, even the hardest of stones would weather down to nothing by the time it became our present time.”

Once again, on each side of the doorway was the coiled behemoth strangling another mighty creature.

“The gargoyles — the snake and the beast,” Andy said. “Their god of gods.”

“So where are they now?” Ajax asked. “The people, I mean.”

Emma snorted softly. “Ever heard that expression about feeding the crocodile, in the hope it’ll eat you last?” She turned to him. “I’m betting it finally got around to eating them.”

“Are they the same as the ones you encountered on the jungle floor?” Drake asked.

Emma nodded slowly. “The same basic form; the same Amerindian style, part Aztec, part Mayan, part Olmec. But there were also glyphs and carvings that were nothing like either.” She narrowed her eyes. “But these statues are a little more rough-hewn, and that might be because they were constructing them in an environment a million times more hostile, and so might have been a little rushed.”

Helen nodded. “It’s not really my field, but I’d bet money on them being the same.”

“Good,” Drake replied.

They peered out from behind their curtain of foliage across the clearing. Hidden insects buzzed, chirruped, and hummed in the undergrowth and also in the thick canopy overhead. Bars of sunshine threw down columns of light between the trees, and the occasional leathery-winged creature darted from tree branch to tree branch above them.

Drake and Fergus used their binoculars to get a close-up view of the temple structure, while Ajax watched their backs. Emma did the same, but Drake noticed she seemed to be more interested in scanning the treetops.

The Special Forces soldier looked for unusual shapes, colors, or anything out of the ordinary. The problem was, to his modern brain, everything in this place was out of the ordinary.

“I got nothing,” Fergus said, and he did another sweep.

“I don’t like it. Why don’t we just go around it?” Ajax said over his shoulder. “Stay low, stay in cover. We ain’t here for sightseeing anyway.”

“What? No way we don’t look.” Andy looked appalled.

“We’re going to check it out.” Drake lowered his glasses.

“Is it safe?” Camilla asked. “I mean, I’m professionally curious, but have we got time for this?”

“We don’t have time to not investigate it.” Drake turned to Emma. “You said that the ruins on the jungle floor had a secret cave that led up here. Do you think there’s a chance at all that these ruins have a similar cave vent that leads back down?”

“Maybe, why not? For all we know, the Pemon found other ways to the top of the plateau and built their temples over them.” She hiked her shoulders. “But I’m not the expert.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Drake said. “Finding Ben is our mission objective. But staying alive and getting home takes precedence over anything else. So we check it out.”

Something slammed into the treetops over their heads. Guns were immediately pointed upward, and the suspects were flying things that could have been bats that skimmed awkwardly from treetop to branch. Could have been bats, in that their wings were noisy, and they landed clumsily. But that’s where the comparison ended, as they were emerald green, and had long heads with a knob on the back to balance out a long serrated beak in front.

In addition, they didn’t sing or even squawk. These varieties made a tock noise that sounded like metal on a hollow log. They turned their heads sideways to regard the humans with interest, and maybe a little hunger.

“They’re not birds,” Andy said. “Smaller cousins of the thing that attacked our balloon.” He grinned up at them. “Probably scavengers.”

“I bet they taste like chicken,” Fergus said.

Suddenly, the constant background noise of the jungle was shut off as completely as if someone had flicked a switch. The group turned about.

“What just happened?” Fergus slowly lifted his weapon.

“Not good,” Helen spoke softly in a silence where even the insects had gone quiet.

Drake scanned along the jungle’s edge, trying to see in past the first long line of foliage. The group started to bunch up, like a small herd of animals pulling in close to the pack.

At first, Drake could hear or see nothing, but then he began to feel it — like the jungle was suddenly holding its breath. He’d been on a mission in the Congo, when a big cat started to stalk them one night. Same thing happened. It was like the creatures of the jungle shut down, all hoping that it was the other guy being stalked and not them.

“Predators in the vicinity,” Helen whispered.

“Oh, fucking great,” Ajax spat. “I’ve changed my mind; I think we should take a look in that temple thing after all.”

“No, not yet.” Andy’s eyes were round. “Let’s wait and see if whatever it is just passes us by.”

“And if it doesn’t, we’re exposed as all hell out here,” Fergus countered.

“I think defensive cover would be a bonus right now.” Drake pointed. “We should also change Juan’s bandages. He’s leaking.”

Juan looked down and saw that his arm was stained a dark red-brown again. “It itches.”

“Yeah, that’s a good sign,” Ajax said, chuckling.

“Means it’s healing?” Juan asked, hopefully.

“Nah, means it’s probably infected,” Ajax scoffed, but then grinned. “But don’t worry; we have the skills to perform a rapid field amputation if necessary.”

Juan paled and gripped his arm.

“Shut it, Lieutenant,” Drake said with a scowl.

Ajax continued to laugh cruelly as he turned back to peer at the temple ruins.

Emma also looked at the man’s arm with concern, and then back at him with her lips pressed flat. Drake bet he knew why — the smell of his blood would draw predators like flies to crap.

“We move.” Drake eased his head around. “On my word; Fergus, ten feet forward, left flank. Ajax ten feet, right. Everyone else, close in tight, single-file up the center. I’ll bring up the rear. We stay low, fast, and quiet.”

A single twig snapped just a dozen feet out to their left. Then some tree branches shook a little on their other side.

Fergus eased his gun around. “Boss, we’re about to be surrounded.”

“Yep, time’s up. Focus on the temple, nowhere else.” Drake took one last look around. “3, 2, 1… go!”

Fergus and Ajax shot out to the left and right, guns up. Everyone else was in the center with Drake behind.

As Drake sprinted, he could sense the eyes on them. He hoped they were nothing oversized but couldn’t help feeling this was like a kill box. Then the jungle exploded around them.

What he at first thought were muscular ostriches came bursting from the jungle on three sides. Except instead of feathers, their skin looked warty and rough, blotched with green, brown, and some red. Their legs were heavily muscled and small arms ended in talons. They were only about six feet tall, but dozens were piling out and moving faster than they were, making a weird hissing rattle in their throats.

“Move it!” Drake yelled.

He turned and let loose a short spray with his M4—his bullets pumped into two of the hunters and they immediately went backward, blown off their feet. The others just accelerated.

“Engage!” he fired again.

Fergus and Ajax lay down controlled bursts, the professional soldiers never missing. The hissing rattle got louder as the theropods closed the gap.

They were still 50 feet out from the wide-open temple doorway, and Drake began to doubt they’d all make it. They were heavily outnumbered, and he turned again, and noticed the creatures were now only a dozen feet behind him. They ran like roadrunners, necks pointed arrow-straight at him as they leaned forward with their whip-like tails pointed out behind them for balance.

Their small red eyes were almost luminous with excitement, and their open mouths showed backward-curving teeth like a band saw. Drake wondered what the bite would be like — would it shred flesh and rip it from the bone, or would the bite be powerful enough to simply sever an arm or leg?

He turned, running sideways, and took out two more that had been so close. He could even hear their ragged breathing. At just 20 feet from the doorway, he turned to fire again, expecting to see them basically at his neck.

Drake slowed. “What the hell?”

The creatures had veered off and given up the chase. His group were now safely inside the temple, and Ajax and Fergus took a position up on each side of the doorway.

Drake stood on the front steps, breathing hard. The pack of carnivores melted back into the jungle. He jogged up the steps, and he turned at the doorway again, gun up and pointed back the way they’d come. Nothing followed them.

Weird, he thought. They basically had them and gave up. He looked inside and saw his people lying on the stones, sucking in deep breaths.

“Yeah.” Ajax grinned. “We kicked their ass, man.” He whooped and lifted his gun. “Don’t mess with modern man, you fucking big-ass lizards.”

Drake let his eyes drift to the walls of the jungle. “I don’t get it. They had us dead to rights. But they gave up.”

“Superior firepower tends to do that to an enemy.” Ajax fist-bumped Fergus.

“They’re not our enemy,” Helen said. “They’re just doing what nature intended.”

“Something spooked ‘em,” Drake said.

“Us,” Fergus added.

“Hey, maybe they’re superstitious.” Andy laughed softly, and moved further inside, pausing at carvings, crouching to examine something here and there, or just marveling at the architecture.

Drake watched him for a moment before examining the arched doorway. Then he noticed what was scattered about on the ground.

“This opening had a door once, I think.”

On either side of the framework, huge blocks were tumbled away. Also, what looked like to have once been wooden logs. There were signs in the rotted wood that they had been lashed together, but they fell to dust when he touched them with his boot.

Emma crouched. “I don’t think this was a door. More like a barricade.”

Ajax snorted. “A barricade? Well, didn’t work, did it? Whatever they tried to keep out just came on in anyway.”

“Last stand,” Fergus said ominously.

“Yeah, well… ” Drake attached a flashlight to the barrel of his M4. “Whatever went down happened a lo-oooong time ago.”

“There are no remains,” Helen said. “Maybe they got away.”

“Or maybe they got eaten, whole,” Ajax replied.

“Those blocks have gotta weigh at least five hundred pounds each. Whatever pushed them in probably wasn’t the size of a brush turkey, right?” Fergus said. “Or even the size of those things that took a run at us.”

“Yeah, had to be something real powerful,” Drake agreed. “But the doorway isn’t that big.”

“Maybe not big, but long,” Andy said from the dark interior. “Look.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“They worshipped them,” Andy said, standing before a statue in an alcove.

“Jesus Christ.” Drake felt a chill in the pit of his stomach.

The statue was of a giant snake, 10 feet high, leering down on them. Its eyes glittered green in the light of their flashlights.

“Hey, shit, are they emeralds?” Ajax crossed to the statue and stared up at it. He pointed, grinning. “I think they’re emeralds; big as damned golf balls, man.”

“Leave ‘em,” Drake said.

“The hell I will.” Ajax pushed his gun up over his shoulder and drew his blade. He turned. “Hey, Fergus, gimme a leg up.”

“Nah, man. I’m superstitious. Leave me out.” He turned away.

“Fuck you then; more for me.” He went around the back and scaled up the body of the snake and crawled on the neck out toward the head. He pulled his blade from its scabbard and reached forward to dig into one of the eye sockets for a few seconds. The gem popped free and fell to the ground. He did the same with the second eye.

Camilla picked one up that had rolled toward her.

“That’s mine,” Ajax said quickly as he slid off the statue and dropped to the ground.

“You’re welcome to it.” She held it up, turning it in the beam of her flashlight. “I’ve got good news and bad news.” She faced the young soldier. “The good news is, it is a gemstone.” She tossed it to him. ‘The bad news is, it’s not emerald. I think its aquamarine, and quite common in South America. It’s a good one though.”

“So, worth something then?” Ajax refused to be put off.

“Sure; the big ones, I’m guessing a few hundred dollars, maybe even a few thousand.”

“Damn.” He shrugged. “Better than nothing.” He tucked them into a pouch on his leg. “At least I’ll have something to show from this hell jungle.”

“One person’s heaven is another person’s hell,” Andy said, staring up at the carvings in the wall. He turned. “The natives found a way to ascend to heaven, here, to pay homage to their gods.”

Emma joined him. “In the previous temple we found, it depicted human sacrifice. I think they were trying to buy these creatures off.”

Andy nodded as a few of the group crowded around. “This temple is already thousands of years old and looks abandoned for maybe that much time again. But just imagine it.” He scoffed. “Them finding this place. It would have confirmed all their prayers, legends, and fears.”

“And nightmares,” Helen added. “The Mayans, Aztecs, Olmecs, many of the ancient races of this area had sophisticated calendar systems. They would have been able to predict when the time was right to ascend.” Helen folded her arms. She turned to them. “One more thing. A lot of these ancient races also thought Heaven was down, and Hell was up. So maybe it wasn’t gods they were trying to appease.”

“But demons,” Andy added softly, staring up at the wall. There were images of small figures kneeling on the ground. A monstrous snake was bending to consume one. Andy blew air between his lips. “I’m guessing here, but it looks like at first, they gave themselves over willingly.”

“Perhaps it was an honor,” Emma said.

“Some honor. Poor saps.” Andy frowned. “I’m happy just getting a participation ribbon in the 100 dash.”

The next image showed the figures setting fires and the beasts being driven back. “The beautiful relationship came to an end.”

“Feeding them just brought more to the dinner table,” Emma observed. “So they finally decided to keep them out of the house. Or try to.”

“Then they must have tried to seal the entrance; tried to stop them coming into the temple.” Drake turned back to the tumbled blocks. “But they got in anyway. And when they did, looks like they were pissed.”

“They walled themselves into their own tomb,” Camilla mumbled. “So sad.”

“Maybe not,” Emma said, as everyone turned to her. “Maybe they were just trying to protect their way home.”

“So this could be a way home?” Ajax grinned.

“I didn’t say that,” Emma added quickly. “But it’s possible.”

Drake turned again to the front door. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we got work to do. Fergus.”

“Yo.” The redheaded man’s head snapped around.

“Watch the door. Helen, take a look at Juan’s arm and redress it. Emma, you know what we’re looking for in the shape of some sort of escape hatch.”

“Vent or what we call a chute,” she replied. “Could be just a crack in the floor or wall. Might be air movement.” She sighed. “But basically, we’re looking for anything that looks like a natural opening.”

The group spread out, and Helen sat Juan down. The Venezuelan man held his still seeping arm and grimaced — not a good sign, Drake knew. She began to unwrap the bandages.

Drake went and put a hand on Fergus’ shoulder at the doorway. “You see anything move, even a freaking bug, you let me know. If there’s no other way out deeper inside, then this place… ” he said evenly, “… is either a fort or a kill box.”

“Got it, boss.” Fergus kept his eyes on the jungle outside.

Drake joined the group as they began to investigate the ink-black interior of the temple. There were dark alcoves, doorways with heavy slabs of stone lintels, and carvings of all manner of great beasts, some he recognized walking on two titanic legs, all head and teeth, and others on four with long necks. But the dominating theme, and that must have been their preferred deity or demon, was the giant snake.

There were also more images of men and women, some bound by the wrists and neck. Some of the people were tied to stakes, and all presented as offerings to the snake god. To be close to one of these monsters would have been gut-wrenching, but being lashed in place, knowing you were going to be eaten alive by the beast, would have been a terrifying way to have your life ended.

“Bastards,” he muttered.

Drake shone his light inside one of the vestibules and then entered. The room was filled with stacked urns, and shining his light inside one of them, he saw a brownish crust in the bottom—blood? he wondered.

“Hey!” Andy’s shout brought his head around.

Drake backed out of the room. “Where are you?”

“Here.” Andy stepped out of a room on the other side of the temple. “Got steps leading down inside.”

The group crowded in, and they found a room only about 30 square feet, this time with statues of warriors seeming to lunge from the walls. At its center, there was a dark square.

Andy stood at its edge. “Goes down to another floor, I think.”

“Down is good,” said Ajax. He lifted his gun and placed a foot on the first step.

“Wait.” Emma crouched by the dark entrance.

Ajax frowned down at her. “What?”

Emma turned to Helen and Andy. “Smell that?”

“Yeah, it stinks; probably some goddamn mold,” Ajax said. “So what?”

Helen settled beside Emma. “I smell it.” She looked up at her brother. “Snake.”

“Yeah, snake musk,” Andy agreed. “Don’t know how I missed it.”

“Ah, fuck.” Ajax backed up off the step.

“I’ve smelled it before. Last time I was here. Like heady cat’s piss; a mix of body odor and ammonia.” Emma backed up a step. “We need to get out of here.”

“We do,” Drake said. “But we also need a way down. And if this is a possible way down, then we need to check it out.”

“You know what I’m thinking?” Andy asked.

“No, but let me guess; you’re scared shitless.” Ajax grinned as he stared down into the dark.

Andy chuckled. “Yeah, I absolutely sure am. Anyone with a brain would be. But I’m thinking that the reason that pack of theropods outside stopped chasing us and peeled off was not because we overwhelmed them with firepower, but because they smelled something that scared them off. Something coming from in here.”

“Or they already knew what lived in here,” Emma said.

“Well, that doesn’t spook me at all.” Drake shook his head. “To hell with it.” The soldier reached into a pouch and pulled out a flare.

“Everyone stand back. Ajax, on my ready.” He punched it down onto his thigh and ignited the pyrotechnics. Immediately, a brilliant red light illuminated the room, making everyone squint or hold up hands in front of their faces. He tossed it down the steps.

He and Ajax crouched, guns up, waiting for a moment, seeing if anything made an appearance. After another full minute when there was still no movement, the pair headed down.

Emma half-turned. “Stay here.” She followed them.

Emma marveled at how the Special Forces soldiers moved: walking forward, legs braced and guns up, sweeping the barrels left, then right, up, down, and then back again. They seemed to move like machines and miss nothing.

The flare cast a hellish glow over the interior of the room. Underfoot things crunched and though now the room was filled with the smell of burning chemicals from the flare, she could still detect the vinegary sourness of the snake. It made the hair on her neck stand on end.

Drake turned and saw her and waved a hand forcefully, indicating she stay behind them. She had no problem with that. She held the SIG Sauer handgun in a double-handed grip, tight, and as she’d spent countless hours training with the weapon, she trusted it more than any other.

She swallowed, her mouth now bone-dry. It was a labyrinth down below, and the further they moved down a dark corridor, the further back they left the light of the flare. Underfoot things still crunched and looking down, Emma now understood why.

“Guys… ”

“What?” Drake hissed over his shoulder.

“That isn’t gravel we’re walking on.”

Drake looked down, and then half-turned to Ajax. “Bone fragments — this must be their nest.”

“Kill room,” Ajax muttered.

The soldiers continued to move forward and Emma followed closely. They turned into a large room, and she noticed that the doorway had been abraded on either side. Drake reached a hand to it, running his fingers up and down along the smoothed edges.

“Something big passed by here, often; wore it down,” he said. “One guess.”

“Jesus, this doorway is six feet wide.” Ajax grimaced.

Emma felt it first — the breeze on her face — and she straightened. “Something up ahead.”

“Hey, what are those things?” Ajax pointed his barrel light into the corner where there was a jumbled pile of objects that looked like leathery footballs, all broken open.

“Exactly what they look like — eggs,” Emma said.

“All hatched,” he replied. “But they look old.” He nudged one with his boot and it fell to pieces. “Very old.”

At the far end of the room, there was a coal-black hole in the wall, with a carved surround.

“There,” Drake whispered.

They eased cautiously toward it. The surrounding stones had been ornately carved with glyphs, and what could have been letters or words, but were impenetrable to the trio.

“Wish we could decipher it,” Drake said, lifting his barrel light a little higher to shine inside the portal.

“I know what it says,” Ajax said, chuckling. “It says, this way home.”

Just past the ornately carved surround, they could see that the worked stone was only on the outside; inside, there were raw stones and a dark shaft leading on well beyond their light beams.

“A natural cave mouth, and there’s airflow,” Emma said, feeling her spirits soar. She sniffed. “But also might be home to something.”

The large portal was also abraded, and the ground smoothed by the constant rubbing of something big.

“Wanna take a look?” Drake asked.

“Not really,” Emma replied, chuckling nervously. It was her turn to pull out a flare and followed Drake’s example by jamming it down on her thigh — it freaking hurt.

“Put it further in,” Drake whispered.

Emma nodded and then leaned in to launch it in through the portal. The flare sailed in and never even got to bounce as the snake that was lurking just inside burst out at them like it was on a spring. The foot-wide head and glinting eyes caught the glow of the flare as it shot forward, making them blaze like it was a demon rising from Hell.

Emma screamed and fell back. But Ajax and Drake stood their ground and responded with the calm reactions of professional killers. They fired long bursts into the head and body.

The M4 rifle’s medium-caliber shells punched through the armored scales, but the snake still managed to rear up, ignoring the dozens of punctures. It started to pour into the room and the two soldiers continued to pile it on before finally they shredded the neck, nearly severing the head until the thing thumped down dead at their feet.

“Fuck you,” Ajax said. “We’re king of the jungle here.”

Drake held out a hand and Emma grabbed it, hauling herself up. “Jesus, that just scared ten years out of me.”

“You and me both.” Drake turned back to the dead snake. Then gun back up, peered past it into the portal where the serpentine body disappeared for dozens of feet. “You’re right, these guys are huge.”

Emma looked down at the length. The head was a foot wide, the body thicker around than hers. But given its girth and how quickly it was tapering inside the hole, she bet it was about 30 to 35 feet.

“A juvenile,” she said.

“Say what? It’s just a freaking kid?” Ajax’s mouth dropped open and he kicked at it. “Thing’s gotta weigh a thousand pounds if it’s an ounce.”

Emma looked into the hole. The flare still glowed and she could see the remains of bone fragments, plus the tell-tale sign of the white, chalky packages of their droppings.

“The nest.” She looked back at the eggs. “Don’t know how many are in there. Or whether Mom is home.” She shook her head. “Shit.”

“What?” Drake asked.

“That might be our way down.” She leaned in a little further and turned her head, trying to listen for movement, but all she heard was the hiss of the flare. She took a chance and leaned in a little more, reaching for Drake’s flare. Her fingers extended, and she had the unsettling sensation of being watched.

Emma grabbed it and then tossed it in even further than her own. She looked up and froze. Eyes, lots of eyes, glinted red in the dark. “Guys… ” She eased back. “I think… ” She backed up and out of the portal opening. “We need to get the hell out of here… now.”

Suddenly, the airflow stopped, and she heard a sound coming up from deep down inside the cave — it was something heavy and coming closer.

“Oh crap; I think its Momma.” She grabbed Drake’s arm. “Let’s go, move it!”

“Oh yeah?” Ajax loaded a grenade into his M320 undercarriage launcher. “How about I give this asshole an enema — clean ‘em all out at once.”

“No,” Drake said forcefully. “You might collapse the tunnel or bury us all.” He grabbed the young soldier’s arm and backed up. “Right now, we poked the hornet’s nest, and the hornets are angry. We’ll make a plan and finish this later.”

The three of them backed up to the steps and ran up to meet the group. Drake led the way.

“Okay, people, we are leaving.”

“Find a way out?” Andy asked.

“Maybe,” Emma said. “Just one problem — there was somebody home.”

Juan groaned and Camilla wrung her hands as she knelt beside him. “I don’t think we can travel much more. He’s sick.”

“Leave him here, then,” Ajax dictated.

Camilla got to her feet. “Can we both not stay, and maybe… ” She looked at each of the soldiers. “… maybe, Fergus can stay and guard us.”

Emma walked toward her, her eyes hooded. “Still think it was me that killed Ben? Still think I made this all up now?”

“I never said that,” Camilla pleaded.

“You didn’t have to.” Emma’s jaw clenched. “If you stay behind, you’ll be dead within the hour. Your call.”

“No, they come. Get him up.” Drake motioned to Juan, and Ajax went and dragged the Venezuelan cameraman to his feet.

Drake joined Fergus at the door. “Anything out there?”

“Nada. Everyone’s gone home.” Fergus turned. “You guys got a bit noisy down there — all good?”

“The residents didn’t like us poking around in their bedroom. So we’re giving ‘em some space… for now.” Drake let his eyes run over the green wall and then pointed. “2 o’clock; that space between the two big tree trunks. That’s our entry point.”

“Got it.” Fergus watched the jungle.

Drake turned. “Okay, people, let’s clear out.”

Emma joined him. “We’ll need to come back.”

He nodded. “But not right now. We can’t fight these snakes in a small space; we’ll need to draw them out first.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. First, let’s find Ben.”

Emma nodded. “That’s what we came here for.”

“Damn right.” Drake looked past her. “Okay, people, same as before, my men will take flanking positions, everyone else stay in the center and keep up. We move hard and fast.” He turned back to the jungle, taking one last look. “On my 3, 2, 1… go.” He sprinted out.

CHAPTER 29

The rest of the day was spent darting, hiding, crawling forward a few feet at a time, and then scurrying to the next place of concealment. The humidity and heat sapped their strength as much as the constant tension and fear sapped their mental acuity.

At one point, they emerged from the miasmic jungle into a vast open area of primordial forest. Emma recognized the smell, but not the shapes. “Like pine.”

“It is. Or will be one day,” Helen observed.

The stand of huge pine-like trees had waxy, flaking bark, and large, heavy wood cones. It was like a land of giants as everything here dwarfed their tiny bodies. Later, they also had to skirt around a herd of brightly colored and crest-headed dinosaurs, that each stood about 12 feet at the shoulder.

“Hadrosaurs,” Helen said.

“We suspected they fed off the pinecones.” Andy grinned. “And now we know for sure.”

Fergus scoffed. “Jesus, how the hell do you eat a pinecone? Like eating a freaking rock.”

“Dinosaurs like hadrosaurs, which we know as duckbill dinosaurs, had unique jaws with thousands of rows of teeth adapted to grind up the tough cones. Think of the cones as super big and hard nuts,” Andy said. “In these Cretaceous forests, marshlands, and swamps, everything is food.”

“Including us,” Ajax said over his shoulder.

“Got that right.” Emma wiped her face, feeling the grime. There were twigs in her hair, and the odd tiny bug wriggling in the rivulets of salty water pouring from her.

They’d need to reapply their repellent soon. It was an odorless form of DDT — supposed to keep everything at bay, but Emma wondered whether it being odorless to them was the same as being odorless to things that had the sense of smell of bloodhounds.

“It’ll be sundown soon,” Fergus said and swigged from his canteen.

“So what?” Emma shot back. “We continue to search all night. We can sleep when we’re home.”

Drake turned. “I agree. We’re on the clock, so we continue the search. But we’ll need to recharge, so we’ll be taking rests every three hours. If there was ever a place where we need to be sharp, it’s right here, right now.”

“Another hour,” Emma shot back.

“No, we need to rest now,” Camilla said softly. Beside her, Juan’s face looked like it was shaped from wax, and his bandage had already turned several different shades as his arm now seeped a yellow fluid.

Emma grunted her annoyance. She knew Drake was right. But, so was she. They only had a small window to find Ben, and then get the hell out. She’d just make sure the rest stops were as short as possible.

“Fine; rest, eat, drink, recharge, and then we continue.” She turned away.

“Anyone else hear that?” Ajax asked. He lifted some glasses to his eyes and scanned the foliage.

“Insects,” Andy said.

“Yeah, there’s always insects, you putz. But not like this… listen.” Ajax turned back.

Emma focused; there was something over and above the constant background hum, click and chirrup of the Cretaceous bug life — there was a constant drone, like one of those kit airplanes the enthusiasts fly in the park on weekends.

“Flies,” Drake said. “Lots of them.”

“Yep, and that means death,” Fergus added. “Just up ahead, I think.” He turned to Drake. “Take a look?”

“Not all of us,” Drake said and turned. “Emma, we’ll do a quick scout.”

She nodded and turned back to where the noise was coming from. The ancient conifers were smaller here but tightly packed together.

Drake set off, rifle ready, and eased around and between the spiked limbs and trunks. Emma followed as he burrowed through the living barriers of young pine, bracken stalks, and eased around the odd hairy tree trunk. In another few minutes, the buzzing became loud enough to drown out everything else.

“There.” He pointed with the barrel of his gun.

“I see it,” Emma whispered, even though she didn’t need to.

There was a cloud of insects swirling madly over something on the jungle floor. The surrounding ferns and grasses had been trampled into a mat, and many of the larger remaining fronds were splashed and shining — blood, and not old blood — as it still retained some hues of glossy scarlet. It was these fresh areas that excited the vermin.

“Last few hours. Fresh kill.” Drake eased upright. “Stay here.”

He walked slowly forward, crouching, his eyes never stopping as they moved over the jungle. Emma took her M4 off her shoulder and covered him.

She knew that the hunters had camouflage and an ability to remain motionless that rendered them nearly invisible. Plus, they were fast, and deadly. If one attacked, she might have time for one shot, so she needed to be ready.

She watched as Drake stood in amongst the remains of whatever had taken place there, and then he craned forward as he spotted something in the ground. He darted forward to retrieve it, and then took a few more seconds to examine the area, looking in along the jungle line.

Emma couldn’t make out what he had found, but after another moment, he rose, quickly looked about again, and then backed away, returning to crouch beside her.

His expression was grave as he grabbed her arm. He then held the thing out to her. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

She stared — it was an old rusted knife, lashed to a broken stick. She continued to stare, her brain at first not understanding what the implication was.

Drake continued to hold her arm. “Something was killed there within the last few hours. There are no remains, but plenty of blood, and this.” He turned the knife over. “That’s a military-issue jungle knife… or used to be.” He sighed heavily. “Like the type Ben Cartwright would have been using.”

She got it then. “No way.” She shook her head, violently. “No way. You think that Ben would survive ten years in this hellhole place, and get himself killed the damn day we arrive? No. Fucking. Way.” She glared, and was too forceful, she knew.

Drake just looked away for a moment and sighed again. “We can talk to the group. But I think you have to face the fact that our mission might be over.” He let her arm go. “Come on.”

The hell it is, she thought.

They pulled back from the site of the massacre and rejoined the group. Drake told them what they had found and showed them the broken spear tip.

Fergus picked it up. “Was a Ka-bar — high-carbon, non-reflective black blade, with epoxy powder-coat; it’s why it survived with only a little rusting.” He looked at Drake. “Yeah, it’d be his.”

“He got attacked, put up a fight, but… ” Ajax shrugged. “… it went bad.”

“But you said there were no bodies.” Fergus’ forehead creased. “Come on, we know Ben Cartwright; that guy could take down an elephant with his bare hands. He would have gutted at least one of them. Where were they?”

“Two things,” Drake said with resignation. “Maybe the Ben we knew could have. But maybe not the Ben Cartwright that’s been trapped here for ten years. It’d wear any man down.”

“Bullshit,” Emma spat. “Half a Ben would have been enough to fend them off.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Drake responded. “But there is one other answer to why there’s no bodies. These things eat their own; all meat is good meat here; nothing is wasted.”

“Then we’re done here,” Ajax said.

Fergus grimaced. “Gotta agree. I think the evidence points to the fact he put up a fight but didn’t win this one.”

“Bullshit,” Emma spat. “Until I see the body, I’ll never believe it.” Emma folded her arms.

Helen stepped in front of her. “There’ll never be a body, Emma. Even if it wasn’t a big predator, these creatures even consume bones; you know that.”

“Sorry, Emma, but she’s right,” Andy said, but wouldn’t meet her eyes for a moment. He finally looked up. “For what it’s worth, I vote we stay a little longer. Just to be sure.”

Thank you, she mouthed.

“I see what you’re doin’,” Ajax sneered. “He’s only saying that ‘cause he wants to do more looking around to satisfy his egghead curiosity.”

“Egghead?” Andy’s brows shot up.

Ajax grinned back at him. “Well, the vote is in and the ayes have it. We go home.”

“Fuck you, fuck all of you. I’m not leaving here until I find some proof he’s dead. Until then, he’s still alive.” Emma bared her teeth.

“That’s your decis… hey, wait a minute.” Ajax scowled. “If you don’t come back, we don’t get paid.”

She rounded on the big soldier and couldn’t help tears of frustration welling in her eyes. “The money is already in your account, you chicken shit. I transferred it the day we left.”

Ajax’s anger flared, and he went to step forward, but Drake reached out one big arm across the man’s chest. Ajax gripped his wrist, hard. The younger man glared at Drake, and the older soldier returned the gaze with unflinching confidence.

“Listen up. We’re all tired, all on edge, and all a little beat up. We take a few minutes to rest our feet, have something to eat and drink, and then plan our next move.” Drake pushed Ajax in the chest, making him back up a step. “Agreed?” He looked at each of them, and then faced Ajax dead on. He raised his voice a few decibels. “Agreed?”

“I guess,” Ajax grumbled.

The others nodded, or simply sighed, shrugged, and waited for the next move. Drake found them a patch of ground that was hidden and less sodden than the rest. They sat, chewed hard protein bars, and sipped water that was as warm as blood, while they all became lost in their own thoughts.

Emma tried to think through what she would do if the group decided to leave. She was resolute, and it only took her a few seconds to choose a course of action; she would stay and continue to search. She hadn’t waited all this time, and come all this way, to give up so quickly.

She turned to look at the team. Fergus, Ajax, and Drake were in a huddle and talking quietly. Andy and Helen had finished eating and now examined something they had found interesting in the soil. Camilla seemed withdrawn, pale, and stared at the ground between her feet, while Juan lay back, shivering slightly. He was fevered, and she knew that if anyone needed to bug out, it was him.

The Venezuelan cameraman lay flat on the ground, eyes screwed shut, and looked to have passed out. Needs his rest more than any other, she thought. His arm was wrapped in new bandages, but already she could see the seep and swelling; it looked damned bad. The last time Helen had rebandaged him, they all got a whiff of the sweet smell of corruption. Without a doubt, either the pterodon had a bacteria-laden bite, or there had to have been some sort of venom at work.

Emma had read about the bite of the Komodo dragon that was so laden with bacteria, wounds festered quickly, and could result in blood poisoning and toxic shock in hours.

She rubbed her eyes. Maybe Ben was dead. And maybe it was time to get the hell out. She sighed deeply.

They’d already lost one good man when Brocke was taken. Juan was getting sicker, and she knew what everyone was thinking; now was the time to cut and run. It’d be so easy to do.

Her problem was, she just didn’t feel that Ben was gone. For some insane reason, or some sixth sense, something was telling her he was still alive. She knew he was one of the most resourceful and tough men she knew. She smiled dreamily; they say love is blind. But she knew it was also deaf, dumb, and sometimes, just plain stupid.

That’s me. She sat straighter. And I’m not ready to go yet, she thought determinedly. Her only decision was whether she, in good conscience, should try and keep the team with her or send them home.

She’d been here before, and lived through it, just. But how long would she survive by herself? she wondered. And how long would the group survive without her, the only person here with any experience in this place?

She looked across to them — Ajax noticed her looking and nodded with a smirk. Andy and Helen continued to place things in tiny sample bags, and Camilla still looked like she was suffering from post-traumatic stress.

But it was Juan that worried her — she wanted him gone. The guy would be an anchor soon, doing nothing but slowing them down. She hated herself for being so mercenary. But I’m different now, she knew.

She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. The man was still lying flat out, but oddly his body jerked and jumped as though he was having a restless sleep… very restless. He had to be bone tired, and his fever would have sapped any remaining energy, but the ground he was on was muddy and damp and can’t have been that comfortable.

As she continued to watch, she saw that the soil under him seemed to have been churned, no, was churning. Then to her horror, something eased up from the earth, just below his thigh, at first looking like a long rubbery penis before two long pincer-like limbs opened from the end and clamped onto his flesh, dug deep, and then tugged the muscle downward toward the soil.

“Juan?” Her mouth worked as she stared, her eyes now wide.

Another revolting pipe came up from the soil, affixed to the man with its pincers, and started to burrow into his flesh.

“Juan! Get him up, get him up!” Her voice was loud enough to snap everyone’s head around, to first her, then to the cameraman. Even Camilla was roused from her zombie-like trance.

Drake and Fergus were at the man in an instant and each grabbed an arm and tugged — but he wouldn’t budge. Both the Special Forces guys were hugely muscled, and though Juan was overweight, they still would have outweighed him by 20 pounds each.

They tugged again and heaved. The man came forward, and Camilla screamed. Like hoses, there were several blood-red pipes extruding from his body. Emma’s first thought was his organs had somehow spilled from his back.

“Jesus; there’s something stuck to him!” Fergus yelled.

Then she saw those two hooks, or claws, or teeth, or whatever the hell they were hanging on, so the thing’s head could remain attached and eat at his flesh like a lamprey.

And then the nightmare began — the grotesque worms fought back and tried to drag Juan back down. They wanted him close to the ground so they could continue their feast in private.

Ajax leaped forward and unloaded a dozen rounds into the soil underneath him. Immediately, the worms disengaged and snapped back below the earth like a man slurps up strands of spaghetti. Fergus and Drake quickly dragged Juan away, but his head lolled forward loosely onto his chest.

“Lay him down,” Helen said. “On his stomach.”

“What the hell were they?” Emma demanded.

The men laid Juan down and ripped open his shirt. There were circular holes in his body and several on his wounded arm that probably attracted the revolting things in the first place.

“They were feeding off him,” Emma observed. “They’re below us.” She turned in time to see a rubbery head emerge from the soil where there was a splash of the Venezuelan man’s blood. “There.” The pincers opened, and the head was exposed — the thing was little more than a mouth on the end of a long muscular pipe.

Ajax fired again, and the thing vanished.

“If I had to guess, Websteroprion armstrongi, from the polychaete family, I think.” Andy stared, his eyes going from the soil to Juan’s wounds.

“They’re a very ancient species of giant bristle worm, what’ve been around since the Paleozoic, 500 million years, give or take. They were scavengers, but because of their size, we think they could have been opportunistic hunters.”

“Well, consider that fucking theory confirmed,” Ajax spat.

“Yes, yes,” Andy said distractedly. “Fossil records had them at ten feet long. But they could have grown bigger. We’ve found evidence of them from oceans to swamps — basically, places like this.”

Helen looked up at them. Her hands were red to the wrists, and she had patches of bandage over a dozen places on his back, arms, and legs. The man groaned and his eyes were rolled back.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. Too much blood,” she agonized.

“He’s fucked,” Ajax said.

“Don’t say that.” Camilla glared at the young soldier, but her eyes now looked haunted and dark shadows circled them.

Ajax just smirked. “Oh, okay, he’s fine. My bad.”

Drake rested on his haunches beside Helen and rubbed both hands up over his face He exhaled. “Chances?”

She wiped her hands. “Without a transfusion? Plus, his body was already weakened from whatever infection he got from the pterodon bite?” She shook her head. “One, maybe two out of ten if he gets care in the next twenty-four hours. Zero out of ten if he doesn’t.”

Ajax laughed. “Darling, do you remember where we are? Even if we got him down off this prehistoric hell, somehow, we’re still smack in the center of the biggest jungle on the planet.”

“Lighten up.” Drake glared up at his man before turning back to Helen, and then fixing his eyes on Camilla. “I don’t like his chances, but don’t worry, no one is going to get left behind.”

Camilla pressed her hands together. “Thank you.”

Emma walked a few paces away, letting her mind run. She turned. “Drake, got a minute?”

He stood, brushed his hands off, and joined her. “What’s up?”

Emma faced away from the group. “The blood.”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

She faced him. “No, you don’t. Maybe you’re starting to get it, but blood draws the hunters. And there are things here from your worst nightmares.”

“I know what you’re saying, what you want, and I won’t do it.” He looked at her from under lowered brows. “If it was you injured like that, would you want me to dump your ass?”

She didn’t blink. “Yes.” She walked in even closer to him. “Juan’s already dead. We drag his blood-soaked body with us, and he will cause more of us to die with him.” She motioned back to the group. “Look.”

Drake turned for a moment before facing her again. He folded his arms.

She continued to stare hard at the Special Forces soldier. “Which ones are you willing to sacrifice? Because I’ll tell you right now, one or more of them will be killed, probably badly, if we bring him with us. Like Ajax said; he’s fucked.”

Drake shook his head, baring his teeth. “You are one ice cold bitch, lady.”

“No, I’m someone willing to put the group over the individual.” She stood her ground.

“We’re leaving,” he said evenly.

She nodded. “I know you are. I won’t try and stop you.”

He exhaled and ran a hand up through his hair. “Jesus, Emma. Come on. You know in your heart that Ben can’t possibly be alive. Don’t goddamn sacrifice yourself.”

“That’s not my plan. I’m just going to do what I came here to do. What I’ve waited ten years to do.” She grabbed his wide shoulders and stared into his eyes. “And in my heart, I know he’s alive. I have zero doubt of that.”

“You’re crazy brave, or just plain crazy.” He hugged her, stood back, and gave her a small salute. “Good luck, and may God walk with you.” He turned and rejoined the group.