Dinosaur Thunder (36 page)

“Fire!” Conyers said.

Arrows flew and guns went off in a disorganized broadside. The center of the Inhuman mob collapsed, squeals of pain heard above the battle cry. Those in back tripped over those in front, and the charge faltered, Inhumans piling up, stumbling, falling.

“Reload!” Conyers called out unnecessarily.

Jacob knew the riflemen had no more than five rounds each, the men with pistols a little more. Bowmen might have more arrows. Helping injured Inhumans back toward the trees, the Inhumans reorganized, still passionate about killing the humans. With the wounded out of the way, one Inhuman began yodeling, a sound pleasant to human ears and eerie at the same time. Others picked up the musical call, and then the Inhumans began bouncing on their toes, jumping higher and higher, at the same time working themselves into a skirmish line.

“They’re going to charge!” Jacob called to Conyers.

“Take aim!” Conyers said repeatedly, riding Torino the length of the line and then pulling up at the far end of the armed men.

“Come and get it!” Crazy screamed, shaking his machete.

As if they understood him, the Inhumans launched their spears and then charged.

“Fire!” Conyers commanded.

Busy dodging incoming spears, the humans fired only some of their weapons, the bows doing most of the damage, the guns suffering from a large number of misfires. The Inhumans took the losses, and still closed the gap. Pistols fired until they were empty, and then the Inhumans hit the line and the hand-to-hand combat began. Stepping out from the rest, Crazy split the skull of the first Inhuman, and then slashed left and right, gashing one Inhuman, severing the arm of another. Using his rifle as a club now, Jacob knocked an Inhuman senseless, and then parried the thrust of a knife. Next to him, Mel Williams took a spear in his thigh, his brother Willy knifing the Inhuman, then pulling the spear out and using it to jab left and right, driving Inhumans back, protecting his brother.

All along the line the battle raged, men falling, the injured crawling out of the fray, others filling the gap. Four men were down with serious wounds. Others retrieved spears, using them to jab at Inhumans. The ferocity of the attack caught the humans by surprise, and they fell back, dragging their injured with them.

“Hold the line!” Jacob commanded, knowing it was about to break. If the Inhumans reached the women and children, the slaughter would begin. “Hold the line!”

Then Conyers charged through the Inhumans, Torino knocking bodies left and right. Inhumans fell, tripped over one another, and jumped out of the way. Taking advantage of the disarray, the humans re-formed their line, women and old men running forward to drag the wounded away from the battle. Conyers continued her drive, disrupting the full length of the Inhuman ranks. At the end she turned, making another pass, shooting an Inhuman trying to spear Torino, and then another who lunged with a knife. When Conyers turned to make another pass, the Inhumans broke, fleeing toward their hiding place, carrying their wounded with them.

“What’s the matter? You chicken or something?” Crazy hollered, fresh blood spattered on his face.

Three Inhuman bodies lay at Crazy’s feet, and two other Inhumans crawled away from him, bleeding profusely from gashes.

“Yeah! Run, you chickens!” Crazy shouted.

Conyers rode over to Jacob. Up close, Jacob saw cuts in the horse’s sides.

“We need a more defensible position,” Conyers said.

The officer’s leg bled from a six-inch cut in her trousers. Blood dribbled into her leather boot.

“The hill where we found you is through those trees,” Jacob said.

He and Conyers looked at the sky and then at the many wounded.

“Let’s get there and then see how we’re doing,” Conyers said.

“I’ll hold the Inhumans here while you take them to the hill,” Jacob said.

Taking charge, Jacob shouted orders, dividing the men with guns and bows, sending half to lead the column and half to stay behind with him as a rear guard.

Wynooski came up, helping Gah, who was having even more trouble walking.

“You should have formed a vee, not a straight line,” Wynooski said. “That way you can split their forces. Divide and conquer is the name of the game in war. Ever heard of it? Should have. It’s common sense.”

“Ranger, I need you to help Officer Conyers herd everyone through the forest,” Jacob said. “Can you do that for me?”

“Any fool could,” Wynooski said. “I’ll get them there.”

With the ranger out of his hair, Jacob organized his half of the men, taking stock of the weapons, redistributing bullets and arrows. There were four arrows per bowman, but only three rounds per gun.

“Why you?” Leah complained when she learned Jacob was staying behind.

Bea and Bonnie were hanging on to Leah again, once more terrified. It broke Jacob’s heart to see them cowering. He had seen it too often. That was the only life they had known—a prehistoric war zone where everything in the shadows wanted to kill them.

“Who else, Leah?” Jacob asked.

Both Williams brothers were injured now, the only other leaders left among the men. The natural leaders among the women had taken charge of the nursing, cleaning and bandaging wounds.

“But we were going to get ice cream,” Leah said, crying.

“We will,” Jacob said. “I promise.”

“Come with us, Daddy,” Bea said.

Bonnie cried like her mother, unsure of what was happening.

“You go with Mom, and I’ll meet you there,” Jacob said.

“Dairy Queen,” Leah said.

“The others are leaving, Leah. Stay with them. It’s safer.”

“I’m not going unless you keep Crazy,” Leah said.

“Okay, sure,” Jacob said. “Crazy, you’re with me!” Jacob shouted.

“Right!” Crazy said, coming to stand with Jacob.

“Crazy, you take care of him,” Leah said.

Big, strong, and dumb, Crazy shook his head enthusiastically. “Sure, Leah,” Crazy said. “Anything you say.”

“You bring Jacob back to me, Crazy, and I’ll make you a pie when we get where we’re going.”

“All right,” Crazy said. “For a pie.”

Leah kissed Jacob, and Jacob hugged and kissed his girls. Then, taking the girls in hand, Leah hurried after the others. Jacob formed the men across the meadow, blocking the trail the humans were retreating down. The Inhumans could filter through the trees, but Jacob could see them grouping inside the trees on the far side of the meadow. To be safe, he sent scouts into the trees.

“I can see some of them,” Crazy said in a whisper.

“Keep your eye on them,” Jacob said. “Let me know if they head this way.”

“Right,” Crazy whispered.

With the sun low, Jacob did not know what to expect. The Inhumans could see some of the humans escaping, but they stayed in the trees. There was still time before sunset for another attack, but they were not forming up, not chanting, not doing anything they typically did when getting ready for war. Inhumans would attack at night, they had proved that when they drove the Community out of their Home Depot compound. But night attacks were rare. The Inhumans were waiting for something, but what? Two hours later, the sun was nearing the horizon, and still no attack.

“Let’s start after the others,” Jacob said, circulating among the men, most of whom were resting, some even sleeping.

Sending them in groups of five, they began withdrawing from their positions. They weren’t particularly stealthy, so the Inhumans had to see them leaving, but still they held their position. Crazy, true to his word, was next to Jacob when he stopped to take one last look at the distant Inhumans. They were up now, gathering, but facing the wrong way. Then they parted, and Jacob felt a familiar distant vibration. Out of the trees came an Inhuman mounted on a triceratops. The Inhumans had brought in their armor.

43

Distant Thunder

The tyrannosaur family includes more than a dozen members, varying in size from the one-ton
Nanotyrannus
to the forty-ton
Tyrannosaurus
rex.
It seems evolution just couldn’t stop creating superpredators.

—John Roberts, guest lecturer, Dinosaur Ranger Academy

Sixty-five Million Years Ago
Unknown Place

Lieutenant Weller moved down the line, whispering to each man, making sure they were awake. John was the last in line.

“Sun’s coming,” Weller said. “Time to get moving again.”

They were miles off course, driven off the trail by a group of predators from the tyrannosaur family that settled for the night on their route. Forced to backtrack, the marines gave the predators a wide berth. Difficult terrain drove them even farther off the trail, but no one wanted to tangle with a single
T. rex
cousin, let alone three. Nightfall forced them to establish a defensible position and wait for morning light.

“I didn’t think
rex
es hunted in packs,” Weller said as the men ate MREs for breakfast.

“I’ve seen
T. rex
es hunt together,” John said. “One of them stampeded a herd of
Monoclonius
toward two other
rex
es who were hiding in wait. After the kills, there was enough to eat so there was no fighting. When game is scarce, or small, then it’s every tyrannosaur for itself.”

“Sounds like the way raptors hunt,” Weller said.

“Raptors are even smarter,” John said. “They’ll not only ambush prey, but bait them, chase them down, feign injuries, tail them, and split their forces.”

“At least they’re smaller,” Weller said.

“Size isn’t everything,” John said.

They finished eating and then cautiously worked their way through the forest, trying to pick up the trail they had been driven away from by the tyrannosaurs. The morning was cool but not cold, and John was a little chilled. The rising sun eventually drove away enough shadows to warm their bodies, evaporating the night dampness. Exercise did the rest, and John was soon warm and on his way to hot.

Terrain made keeping away from the tyrannosaurs difficult, and they meandered, carefully working around where they had last seen the pack. They were making good progress, John estimating they would cross Nick’s trail in another half mile or so. Then he heard gunshots, followed by echoes bouncing off rocks and distant trees.

“Which way?” Weller demanded.

Kelton and Snead pointed in roughly the same direction.

“Get us there,” Weller said, and Kelton and Snead led the way, setting a brisk pace.

44

Siege

Miserable men indeed were they! whose distress forced them to slay their own wives and children with their own hands.… So they being not able to bear the grief they were under for what they had done any longer … They then chose ten men by lot out of them, to slay all the rest; every one of whom laid himself down by his wife and children on the ground, and threw his arms about them, and they offered their necks to the stroke of those who by lot executed that melancholy office.…

—Flavius Josephus, on the siege of Masada,
A.D.
72

Sixty-five Million Years Ago
Unknown Place

Torino snorted a protest as Officer Conyers climbed into the saddle for a better look. The refugees from Reverend’s church were huddled together on the top of the hill where Conyers had met Nick Paulson and the others. The creatures the church members called Inhumans were arrayed around the hill, cutting off all escape routes. Fear was thick in the air, and Torino reacted to it, now restless, dancing off nervous energy.

Patting his neck affectionately, Conyers tried to calm the horse. “I know what you’re thinking, because I’m thinking the same thing,” Conyers whispered into Torino’s ear. “What the hell are we doing here?”

Dawn was breaking, and in the morning light Conyers could see the forces deployed against them. Seeing the strange creatures, Conyers understood why Reverend’s people called them Inhumans. Dressed in loincloths and little else, the warriors were more lizardlike than anthropoid. The hairless heads, large eyes, and snouts triggered an instinctive loathing. Killing one would be easy, Conyers thought, at the same time realizing the Inhumans must react the same way to humans. When they took the hill, Conyers circulated, checking weapons. Only a few men had rounds left for their rifles and pistols. Conyers distributed the spare ammunition for her pistol. Prepped for crowd control, Conyers had carried only one spare magazine and a canister of Mace. Thankfully, Conyers saw no bows and arrows, or spear throwers among the Inhumans. Given the human position on the hill, the spears would be a manageable threat. With bows and spear throwers, the humans would have been facing artillery.

The bigger problem was the triceratops positioned at the bottom of the hill. With three horns, a neck collar, and standing seven feet tall at the shoulders, the ten-ton animal was evolution’s battle tank. Jacob warned Conyers that the triceratops was attack trained, ridden into battle by an Inhuman. Like Hannibal’s war elephants, triceratopses were used to trample the humans, smash through their lines, and scatter them, breaking them into smaller groups and making them easier to pick off. Armed as the humans were, repelling an Inhuman attack without the triceratops would a miracle. With the triceratops, the Inhumans would follow it right through the human line, flanking in both directions.

“Our best chance is to concentrate our fire on the triceratops,” Jacob said, standing next to Conyers. “Luckily, there’s only one of them.”

“They have more?” Conyers asked, straining to see in the dark.

“Several more. Some are trained for a harness. I saw three in a column once, pulling carts.”

“Why bring only one, then?” Conyers wondered.

The human lines rippled with whispering and pointing. Over the trees beyond the triceratops rose the asteroid, and it was huge.

“This can’t be a siege, or we’re all dead,” Conyers said.

“A charge would be suicide,” Jacob said, looking at the asteroid and then back to where his wife comforted his hungry children. “They’d get to our families.”