Return To Primordial Island Page 6

  The two raptors rolled around in a ball, and Jason wailed as the curved claws released him. He clutched his sides and rolled over to Mary, who was already getting to her feet.

  Balled up and tangled, the raptors presented an easier target. She fired at them repeatedly, her shots finding purchase. As they wriggled to stand, they took fire, the bullets tearing into their flesh. Jason, from the ground, fired his rifle. When the smoke cleared, both raptors lay dead, bleeding into the dirt.

  *

  The third pair of Umazoan hunters broke formation and ran at the raptor assaulting Hiu and Ryo. They thrust spears at it, piercing its vital organs, until it fell to the ground, its tongue dangling limp from its jaws. The second raptor that had the spear lodged in its mouth ran off.

  Ryo lay on the ground, clutching his chest. Blood pooled around him as his eyes grew dim. Hiu knelt beside him, clutching him, his expression desperate. He rocked the hunter in his arms as he died, the others watching in a mix of pity and horror.

  *

  Mary helped Jason up as he winced from the sharp pain in his sides. He struggled to stand, but she threw his arm around her shoulders to steady him.

  “You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve suffered worse.”

  He remembered the time the wolves had cornered him. He remembered the sensation of being mauled, teeth tearing through his coat and sinking into his soft, young flesh. “Yeah, I’ll be all right.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Mary.

  Jason nodded. “Those velociraptors were sent.” He and Mary traded looks, and then their eyes widened. “The tribe,” they said in unison.

  Hiu, covered in Ryo’s blood, and the remaining two hunters joined them as Jason and Mary ran to the other side of the plateau.

  “Wait,” cried Jason. “Wait!”

  Susan, sending the Umazoans down in small groups, looked at Jason. “What? What is it?” As he approached, she saw the blood stains on his shirt. “Are you all right?”

  Jason swallowed and tried to catch his breath. “Fine. It’s a trap.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Susan.

  “The lizard men sent the raptors up as a distraction. They’ll be attacking the tribe down below,” said Mary.

  Susan looked down as a tribesman turned the crank to lower a group of five down. Others waited at the bottom, looking up. “I don’t see anything. I sent each group down with a hunter for security once down at the bottom.”

  “That was a good idea,” said Jason, “but I’m afraid it won’t be enough.” He went to the edge of the plateau to look down. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He winced and clutched his side.

  “You need medical attention,” said Susan.

  He shook his head, sweating profusely. “There’s no time. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll get an infection,” insisted Susan.

  “Once we’re away from all this, we can have a look,” said Jason. “But right now, we need to get the hell out of here safely.”

  “He’s right,” said Mary. “That’s our first priority.”

  Susan shook her head. “There’s been no attack.”

  “That’s because they’re waiting for the whole tribe to go down,” said Jason. “No one else goes down. Send me. I’ll check for tracks.”

  “I’m coming too,” said Mary.

  Jason smirked. “Don’t want to leave me all alone, huh?”

  “Yes, that’s because you’re so damned irresistible,” said Mary in sarcastic monotone.

  “Okay,” said Susan. “When the platform comes up, you two are next.”

  They all watched as the platform reached the bottom and the group of five got off. They joined the others as the hunters down below hoisted their spears, scanning their surroundings. The only problem was they were looking for dinosaurs, not lizard men.

  Susan gave the order, and the man operating the winch cranked the platform back up slowly. It was a thirty to forty-foot drop, so it took a moment.

  Jason looked around from his elevated vantage point and saw nothing. Dinosaurs, particularly the larger predators, would’ve been easy to spot. Lizard men, however, were too small. They could’ve been camouflaged and no one up on the plateau would’ve even known it.

  When the platform reached the top, Jason got on, his rifle slung over his shoulder, steadying himself. He sat down, Mary helping him, and he flinched from the pain. Mary looked at Susan and nodded. Susan gave the order to the Umazoan man to lower them, and the man began to hand crank the winch.

  As they began to sink in a jerky, disjointed motion, Jason looked up and said to Susan, “Wait for our signal, and watch your back.”

  Susan nodded and ordered a few of the remaining hunters to watch the village for any more invaders. They answered in Umazoan and ran off to keep watch for man, dinosaur, or lizard man.

  *

  As they descended, Jason unshouldered his rifle and used the scope to sweep the surroundings. Down below, the Umazoans gathered, milling around, awaiting the arrival of the others. Jason swept his scope across their flanks, looking for any movement or any sign of ambush. In the distance, off to the west, he saw the long necks of a brontosaurus herd breaching the canopy. To the east was a quiet stretch of jungle, or so it seemed. However, upon closer inspection, he saw monkeys swinging from branches, crying out to each other in warning. He looked south and saw the river Hiu spoke about snake by. He followed it down with his scope. It twisted and disappeared under the canopy.

  “What is it?” asked Mary.

  “The monkeys,” said Jason. “They’re agitated about something.”

  “Can you see anything?”

  “No. But they’re definitely reacting to something.”

  They were now fifteen feet above the ground. Mary’s eyes darted around, searching. The Umazoans appeared completely unaware of anything out of place, even the hunters who kept a watchful eye.

  When they reached the ground, Mary helped Jason up. He groaned as his sides stung. “We have to start to move everyone,” said Jason. “They’re all a bunch of sitting ducks bunched up like this.”

  Mary nodded. “I can set them up down by the river.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” said Jason. “I’ll have Susan send the others down while I keep watch.”

  Underbrush rustled, and Jason held a hand up to silence Mary. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Out of the side of the cliff, lizard men burst out from a cave covered by thick vines. They seized Mary and Jason, ripping their rifles out of their hands before they had time to react. They immediately surrounded the Umazoa, pointing spears at them. The hunters whirled around, ready to engage.

  One lizard man stepped up to Mary and held a crude dagger up to her throat. He hissed, flaring the dewlap under his chin like an iguana, and the hunters looked on in horror. Their eyes darted from the knife-wielding lizard man to Mary, then to Jason.

  Mary squirmed as claws dug into her arms, holding her still. “Fight! Don’t worry about me!”

  Jason tried to wriggle free, but he was weak and in too much pain to offer up much of a fight.

  The lizard man holding the knife hissed louder, opening its mouth wide, pressing the blade to her throat. Mary whimpered as a rivulet of blood trickled from where the blade dug into her flesh. The hunters threw down their spears and surrendered.

  “No,” cried Mary.

  “It’s not their fault,” said Jason through gritted teeth, sharp pain wracking his midsection. “They’re outnumbered.”

  Susan called down from up above, but neither Jason nor Mary understood it. The rope attached to the wooden platform went slack, and the other end fell down to the ground, landing in a small heap, cutting everyone below off from the village above.

  Jason only hoped Susan would lead the rest of the tribe to safety, whatever that meant on this island.

  Chapter 5

  Peter regained consciousness to the so
und of gurgling water on the river bank, his body strewn across the mud, thankfully facing up. He turned his head and saw the river running past him. He realized he must’ve lost consciousness, as his head thundered with pain. He tried to move, but he felt strange. His limbs wouldn’t respond to his brain’s orders. As his eyes darted around, he caught glimpses of a pant leg and an arm, only they were in places they shouldn’t have been…at angles that shouldn’t have even been possible.

  He tried to crane his neck to look at his body, but he couldn’t do it. It didn’t even feel as if his body was even there. Was he dead? Had he been decapitated, and these were the last moments of sentience? Had the Spinosaurus bitten his body off and feasted on it, leaving his head behind? He blinked his eyes and crinkled his nose. At least his head worked.

  As his brain began to register the data his eyes sent, he realized that he was folded over on himself, contorted in a back-breaking position. Peter fought down panic, trying to analyze the situation. Then he remembered his powers.

  He closed his eyes, reached deep within himself, and sought out his own life force. It was there, and it was fading. He sensed it in his mind’s eye through the power of the orbs embedded within his chest. He must’ve sustained a spinal injury and become paralyzed from the neck down. He was thankful to even be alive, even as a human pretzel, and he knew he had to heal himself.

  He looked around, scouting out for carnivorous dinosaurs lurking about, but with his limited range of sight, the coast appeared to be clear. Satisfied he was alone, Peter closed his eyes and reached into his essence, tapping the power of the life orb. He felt the orb glow inside of his mind as he focused on healing his damaged spinal nerve.

  His eyes opened to splashing in front of him, breaking his concentration. He tried to crane his neck to spy what caused the disturbance, but to no avail. It, however, slithered into his view. A massive snake had slipped out of the river and was eyeing him for a nice meal.

  “Shoo! Git!” he shouted at it. He wanted to swat at it with his arm and kick at it with his leg, but those weren’t options.

  It slinked through the mud, bringing more of its body into view. Its head was massive, like that of a cow, a black tongue slipping in and out of its mouth, tasting the air…tasting Peter. Its scales were deep brown, its body two feet thick. However, as it revealed more of itself, it appeared to be three feet thick towards its middle.

  Peter forced his eyes closed and did his best to re-establish his link with the life orb. He really wanted to use the death orb to kill this monster, but he had no idea how. Desperate, he fired up his inner power, creating a neural handshake with the cells of his spinal cord. He injected his warmth into them as his body rattled. The massive boa, likely a Titanoboa, had just latched onto his feet. As he felt life and healing trickle through his nervous system, he had the faint sensation of teeth piercing his ankles and lips massaging their way up his calves. He didn’t feel it as much as he knew it, as if he watched it happen to someone else.

  His eyes opened to a much louder splash. What now?

  A beautiful woman stood waist-deep in the river, watching him. Peter thought he was hallucinating, but as he fixed his eyes on the woman in the water, he could’ve sworn it looked like…

  “Tracey?” He asked it out loud knowing full well it wasn’t Tracey.

  ‘I assumed this form as it would be pleasing to you. We haven’t much time.’ Peter felt its voice inside his mind, wordless as the intelligent lizard man, only this thing wasn’t using an orb to communicate. He knew, however, what is was.

  “What do you want?”

  ‘There is quite a large snake consuming you, feet first. It has already worked its way up to your thighs.’ Its voice was thin and hollow, like a hissing whisper in his mind.

  Peter felt himself being turned around and sensed the peristaltic movements of the boa’s throat muscles, guiding him into its esophagus. However, at the moment what stood before him in the river was much worse. It was pure evil. “I know what you are.”

  ‘You know nothing of what I am. I am as powerful as I am old, and I walked these lands well before the thunder lizards.’

  “You corrupted Mike Deluca. Turned him into a monster.”

  ‘I offered him power over death. What he chose to do with it was his responsibility.’

  “Leave me alone.”

  ‘The snake is now at your waist. You cannot feel it, but it’s pulling you in, further and further, until you will be digested slowly, in agony every second of the remainder of your life.’

  Peter wanted to heal himself, but he knew he didn’t have enough time. “Leave me alone.”

  ‘I can help you.’

  “I don’t want your help.”

  ‘I can teach you how to use the death orb.’

  This caught Peter’s attention, and it must’ve sensed it, because an eerie smile crept across its face, flashing rotten teeth. The sight jarred him out of whatever enchantment it had cast upon him. “No. I don’t want it.”

  ‘The snake is now working its way up your torso.’

  Peter strained to look and saw the top of its massive head on top of his chest, its curved teeth digging into his flesh, yet he felt nothing. He thought about Tracey. He felt how much he still cared for her, and the orbs glowed within the boa’s mouth. “She’s here,” he gasped.

  ‘Yes. She is. You want to see her again. You want to be with her.’

  Peter shook his head as he slid further into the jaws and throat of the Titanoboa. “No! Why did she come back?”

  ‘She came for you.’

  “No. You’re playing tricks on me. I don’t believe it.”

  The boa’s lips now touched his chin, and the force of the rhythmic muscle contractions forced his head back.

  ‘You are too late. Her death is your responsibility.’

  Peter was swallowed whole, and the world went dark. He struggled to breathe as the boa’s muscles tightened around him, working him into its digestive tract. What little air he could inhale was tinged with the odor of stomach acid, and his lungs burned with each limited draw of breath. He heard muffled shouts outside, and he was rolled around. He heard the pop of gunfire, and the peristaltic contractions around him slowed and then ceased. Sharp objects pierced the sides of the snake, poking Peter’s body, and the walls of the snake were pulled apart as he was rolled over and over, gasping for air.

  Just as he was about to pass out, fresh air and sunlight hit his face, and he felt hands grabbing at him, pulling the top half of his body up and out of the massive serpent. When Peter opened his eyes, he saw Tracey looking down at him. “Screw you. Leave me alone.”

  Tracey shook her head, looking confused. “Peter, what are you doing inside that huge ass snake?”

  Now he was perplexed. “Tracey? Is that really you?” He furrowed his brow. “This isn’t a trick, is it?”

  A rather stern-looking man stood next to her. “Hello, Dr. Albanese. I’m Trevor Nielsen from Poseidon Tech. We’re here to rescue you.”

  Peter turned his head towards the river. “But…but…did you see her?”

  Tracey turned to try to see what he was looking at. “Who?”

  “You…I mean, not really you. Not the real you. The fake you.”

  “He’s delirious,” said a man dressed in camos, toting an assault rifle.

  “I don’t even know how he’s alive,” said Nielsen.

  Peter eyed the man with the large gun.

  “That’s Collins,” explained Tracey, crouching by his side. “Head of security.”

  Peter met eyes with Tracey. He was overwhelmed to see her. “You came back.”

  “Of course I did,” she said, her voice soft and warm. It was a complete contrast with the voice of the thing in the water.

  Peter frowned. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  The other men in camos pulled the snake apart from either side, cutting through muscle, freeing his legs. He made to push himself up, but he felt strong hands reach under his arms, hoi
sting him up. Peter staggered as he regained his balance. He looked at each of the men holding him up. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

  Tracey threw her arms around him. He once again felt squeezed, but he welcomed it this time. He closed his eyes and drank it in. He heard shouts, weapons being drawn, and then Tracey’s voice, “No! Wait!”

  Peter opened his eyes. Collins and his men had their weapons drawn on him.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Collins pointed the barrel of his rifle at Peter’s glowing chest. Peter’s wounds from the snake and errant knife tips healed over, leaving his shirt tattered and stained but his flesh intact.

  Nielsen smiled and stepped between Peter and Collins’ men. “It was in the briefing. He gained some kind of power being on this island.”

  “Is he dangerous?” asked Collins.

  “No, he’s not dangerous,” snapped Tracey, standing next to Peter.

  Peter put his hands up, slowly. “I assure you, I’m no threat to you or your men.”

  Nielsen looked him up and down. “You look pretty damned good for a man we pulled out of a giant snake.”

  Peter suddenly felt self-conscious. He was filthy, his clothes were ragged, and he sported a bushy beard. He looked like a castaway, which really wasn’t that far from the truth.

  “Titanoboa,” corrected Tracey.

  “I knew it,” chortled Peter.

  “Stand down,” said Collins to his men. They all lowered their rifles.

  “Where are the others?” asked Nielsen.

  Peter’s expression changed from amused to grave. “I told them to evacuate the village.”

  “Evacuate?” said Nielsen.

  “What happened?” asked Tracey.

  “It’s a long story,” said Peter.

  Collins looked uneasy. “Mr. Nielsen, I hate to cut this reunion short, but we need to get back into our vehicles. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

  Nielsen nodded. “He’s right. You two can catch up in the truck, and we can hear about the village.”