Into the Mist Page 12

  Taine was too far away to help him…

  Read dashed in, firing at the monster – the noise infernal. With one hand, he dragged Nathan out of the way. No small task. Taine admired his quick action. The brute continued, ignoring Nathan and Read. The noise of the firearms had spooked it, sending it on its wild stampede? No, Taine could swear it had a purpose. It was heading to the opposite end of the campsite, intent on something. Fixed on… Taine plotted the trajectory. His face set hard.

  Jules.

  The doctor was frozen in place, her toothbrush in her hand, her face twisted in terror. Taine ran to cut off the animal. He had to do something. But what? He’d shot it in the head, and it had carried on.

  Belting towards Jules, Taine realised his error. He’d fired at the skull. Solid bone! It was designed to protect. His shot had glanced away.

  Taine sprinted, eyes on the lizard. It was going to be tight. Although Christ knew what he was going to do if he made it. Even shots aimed at the creature’s flanks weren’t slowing it down. But why? Trigger couldn’t be missing every shot. Sure, the wretched beast was moving, but Trigger was no slug. He wasn’t called Trigger for nothing.

  Fuck.

  Those Steyr rounds were as weak as weasel’s piss. Hopeless penetration. Even with human targets they were more likely to maim than kill. And this thing was armour-plated. They might as well be firing at a tank, their bullets bouncing like rain off a corrugated roof.

  They needed another way to stop it. Taine cast his gaze about for another weapon.

  Any weapon.

  At the same time, Trigger and Eriksen stopped their firing. They must have realised their Steyrs were useless, or they were worried they might hit a civilian. Or him. In the sudden hush, Jules let out a tiny gasp. The sound galvanised Taine, the image of a little girl in a hijab flashing through his mind. He put on a burst of speed.

  “Boss!”

  Read. Running parallel to Taine, ahead of the monster, he was unwinding a length of rope, twisting something around the end. A weight.

  Hell’s teeth! The newbie really did think he was Indiana Jones. But if Taine’s guess was right, it was a bloody good idea.

  “Yes! Here!” Taine called. “Trigger, help him.” Quickly, Trigger dropped his rifle, the veteran sprinting up behind Read, fast in spite of his bulk.

  “Lefty!” Taine yelled. “Behind me.” With no breath to spare, Taine could only hope Lefty would cotton on.

  Read launched the rope across the space to Taine, a hard flat pass that would’ve earned him the referee’s whistle had he been on the rugby field. Taine stretched out an arm. Grabbed it. Twisted it in his fist. Immediately, he veered off, looking for a decent tree. There! A big tōtara. Thick and solid. Taine dashed around its trunk, keeping the rope high and tight, and taking two turns about its girth before handing it off to Lefty.

  “Secure it! And make sure it’s tight,” he yelled.

  Then he was running again, making for Jules while Trigger and Read tied the other end around a beech. The rope secure, Read stepped back. The monster charged through it. The rope pulled taut across its colossal thighs. It faltered, but kept coming. The nylon rope creaked with the strain. Taine swore under his breath. It was caught on the creature’s scales, too high to act as a trip wire. It wasn’t going to hold. That thing must have weighed as much as a loaded concrete mixer. Taine had only seconds before the rope broke and the creature reached its prey. Not again. He couldn’t lose another person under his protection.

  He needed more time! “Dr Asher! Run!” he shouted, waking her from her paralysis.

  Dropping her toothbrush, she turned and fled, just as the first of the rope’s fibres frayed in a sickening rip.

  “Taine! It’s gonna go!” Trigger shouted. He made a fist, a signal for Taine to make it fast.

  Taine’s chest tightened; Jules was glancing back at the beast.

  No! Don’t look at it! Run!

  The monster bore down on her. Not looking where she was going, Jules caught her foot in a protruding tent peg. Stumbled.

  “Taine!” Trigger urged.

  But already it was too late. They were out of time. Stretched to its limit, the rope snapped, the torn ends pinging backwards.

  That’s when Taine spotted the fire.

  Fire! Animals hate fire. Taine scooped a burning log from the embers and threw himself in the animal’s path while the doctor scrambled to her feet. Ignoring his scorching hands, he thrust the torch at the snout in an arc of orange sparks. Its muscles bunched, and the animal slowed. Taine’s heart thundered with every step. It stopped, looming above him.

  Jesus Christ, the thing was enormous. Its eye was enormous. Within reach of those sickle-like claws, Taine stood his ground, waving his torch, face-to-face with the beast’s toothy grin, Jules Asher’s blue toothbrush crushed beneath its claws. Rank breath hit him full in the face.

  “Time for you to shove off now, big fella,” Taine said quietly, brandishing the torch.

  The beast swayed to one side, its eyes on Jules.

  “Hey, over here, you overgrown gecko!” Taine shouted.

  The creature seemed more bemused than perturbed. Ignoring Taine, it took a step forward, craning its head downwards for a better look at Jules.

  “Get back,” Taine warned her. “And you can get back too!” He leaped up then, forcing the burning end of the torch into the beast’s yellow eye, jabbing hard. The torch gouged soft tissue, the smell of singed eye replacing the stink of its breath.

  Blinded, the giant lizard bellowed, its tongue snaking out to swat away the nuisance. Taine jumped out of reach, Jules behind him. He struck again, this time hitting at the tongue, swinging the burning log like a baseball player at the plate. A sizzling hiss. Taine stepped back, panting. The monster roared again.

  Shit. His bravado with the torch had only made it mad. It thrashed its neck and stamped a horny foot, trumpeting with all the fury of a bull elephant.

  This was ridiculous. He was facing a wounded dragon, a damsel at his back, and armed with a burning toothpick. But the torch, stubbed in the creature’s eye, and then dampened on its tongue, was close to expiring. Taine figured he had just seconds before it went out. He was going to need a plan…

  But, miraculously, mercifully, the frustrated beast, having told Taine what he thought of him, turned away, plunging headlong into the bush.

  Trigger and Read leaped aside to let it pass.

  Chapter 15

  One by one the Task Force members assembled in the centre of the little campsite, Ben emerging from his hiding place in the bush, and de Haas from where he’d undoubtedly been shaking in his boots inside one of the tents. Taine resisted the urge to say, ‘I told you so’ to the geologist. He’d hardly believed Singh and Lefty’s report himself until he’d seen the creature. The geologist sat down on a pack in the middle of the group and said nothing.

  Taine checked out the rest of the party. Apart from a blanched look and some serious shaking, Jules seemed to be holding it together. Richard handed her a blanket, which she acknowledged with a nod, pulling it around her shoulders. Taine had lost sight of Foster during the skirmish. Looking at the mud on him, the man had taken cover in a ditch. He sat beside Jules now, patting her hand protectively, while Ira’s dog sat at her feet.

  Nearby, Singh was checking out Kerei’s injuries, the medic clearly happier now he had something positive to do. Or perhaps it was relief the beast had shown itself, proving once and for all that he wasn’t going crazy. Coolie and Trigger remained on alert, their guns off safety and their eyes on the bush, scanning the trees. The rest of the men were flopped on the ground.

  “Trigger, Lefty, Eriksen, good work back there,” Taine said. “And Read.” His legs straight out in front of him and his head almost on his knees, the young soldier looked up. “What you did – pulling Kerei out of the way, the rope obstacle – was good.”

  His eyes directed outwards, Coolie lifted his rifle in agreement.

  “Yeah, tha
nks, man,” Nathan called to Read. “You saved my bacon.”

  Read blushed. “I saw the rope trick in a movie,” he explained. “Ewoks trying to bring down the Imperial Transports. The image just jumped into my head.” He gave a sheepish grin. “I’m not sure it worked in the movie either.”

  “You slowed it down, son. It gave us the time we needed,” Taine said.

  Miller butted in, “What the fuck was that thing anyway?”

  There was a nervous silence.

  “Some kind of dinosaur,” replied Singh eventually. He’d had more time to think about it.

  “A scaly fucking tank of a dinosaur,” Eriksen said. He nudged at the remains of the fire with the toe of his boot.

  “But that’s impossible. There are no dinosaurs left,” Miller said.

  “Tell that to Winters,” Lefty said. “Singh and me, we saw it take a bite out of him last night. And it doesn’t do anything by halves either. That thing has two rows of teeth.”

  “Jesus, Lefty,” said Eriksen.

  “It’s true!”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to scare everyone to death!”

  “We’re already scared to death,” said Ben, who, bizarrely, was still clutching his mug.

  “It’s Temera’s taniwha,” Nathan said now, flinching under Singh’s ministrations. “We should have listened to the old man.”

  “That was no taniwha. That was real. Nothing mythological about it,” Eriksen said.

  Tears welled in Jules eyes and she brushed them away. “If it killed Anaru, do you think it’s killed Louise, too?”

  “Shit,” Lefty said. “You reckon it’s got a taste for us?”

  Coolie glared at him. “That’s enough, Lefty.”

  “He’s right though,” Taine said quietly. “Before Winters, it probably killed the pig hunter.”

  Plus nine civilians and an army section.

  “We should expect it to attack again at any moment. We need to be ready.”

  Miller fiddled nervously with the breast pocket of his vest. “Yeah, well, requisition some light sabres because standard rifle fire isn’t going to cut it. Our bullets just ricocheted off its hide.”

  “The eyes and mouth are vulnerable,” Taine said. “Aim for those areas. And light some fires. We know it doesn’t like flames.”

  “Time to get out the rocket launcher?” Trigger said, and Taine nodded his assent.

  “See if you can avoid setting the forest on fire,” Coolie said.

  * * *

  Singh insisted on looking at Taine’s burn. His left palm was black, soot scorched into the skin.

  “How’s Kerei?” Taine asked, trying not to wince while the medic cleaned out his wound.

  “He’s lucky. His jacket was torn to threads, but his skin’s intact. He’s got a bit of concussion and a wrenched shoulder, that’s all. When you think what happened to Anaru...” The medic’s voice broke. He coughed, then carried on, “In an ideal world, Kerei should stay quiet for a day, but he’ll do if we have to walk out.”

  Taine nodded. “And Dr Asher?”

  “Nothing serious. Grazed knee. She’s bearing up.”

  Taine felt a twinge of admiration for her. Soldiers expected to come across adversaries. It was part of the job. They were trained for it. But a biologist? Their day-to-day tasks involved test tubes and trees, not running from monsters. And the beast had singled her out. Most civilians would be in a state of near hysteria.

  He looked at his palm, the medic dabbing at it with an antiseptic swab. “What about you, Singh?”

  The man’s smile was grim. “I don’t mind telling you, McKenna, I’m still trying to stop my teeth from chattering and my knees from knocking together,” he said. “I hoped never to see that thing up close again. I prayed it was a figment of my imagination. This trip, it’s not just the physical scars that’ll need patching up. I’m no psychologist, but if even if we survive this attack by this... this... creature from the black lagoon, no one’s going to believe a word of it. Whatever happens, we’re all screwed.” He placed a dressing over the wound and pressed the edges down firmly, taping it closed.

  Getting up, Taine patted the medic on the shoulder. “Then let’s start by surviving and leave the explaining ’til later.”

  * * *

  “Richard. How is it even possible, this creature?” Jules said, her hands clasped around a cup of tea while her eyes followed the broad shoulders of Sergeant McKenna inspecting the ravaged campsite with Coolie.

  “I’m not sure,” Richard said. “It’s hard to believe.”

  “We both saw it.”

  “I was trying not to see it.”

  “Do you think the soldiers could be right, about it being a dinosaur?”

  Richard paused. “It’s a reptile, but not a lizard. Judging from what I saw of the shape of its head and the ridge of spines over its back, I’d say it’s a relative of the tuatara. And just now, Wright said it had two rows of teeth.”

  Jules tightened the blanket around her shoulders. “Two rows of teeth. So, from the Order Sphenodontia. That makes sense,” she said, trying the idea out loud. “Except animals from that order tend to be the size a loaf of bread. Or a sesame bun.”

  “Do you think that this creature – let’s call it Sphenodontia gigantis – has been here all along? I know it’s the Ureweras, but living and breeding and foraging in the bush for a couple of millennia without anyone coming across them? No tracks or scats. No bones. It seems unlikely.”

  It was good to talk. The tremble in her knees was subsiding. Jules watched McKenna enter a tent and drop out of sight before replying. “There probably have been tracks, but we haven’t recognised them. They might’ve looked like scuffs. But you’re right. It does seem unlikely. Something aquatic like Nessie might’ve gone undetected, but not a terrestrial organism.”

  Richard paused to swipe hair out of his face. There was a smudge of mud on his cheek. “Wouldn’t the tourism people love that?” he said wryly.

  “It’s possible bone fragments were here and we mistook them for the moa or the Haast eagle,” she said. The blanket slipped again from her shoulders. Jules put her mug at her feet, taking a moment to give the dog a pat.

  Richard brushed the dirt off his knees. “Did it look like a bird to you? It’s too big. Bigger than a moa. I think if a fossil had been found, it’s more likely to have been confused with a theropod, given its size. All we have of the Port Waikato Comsognathus is a toe bone, after all.” Richard paused. “You know, this might sound crazy,” he said, “but I think what we’re dealing with here could be something extinct that’s come back to life.”

  Jules pulled the corners of the blanket back up to her neck. “It’s occurred to me, too. Only it’s so outrageous, so far-fetched…”

  “DNA can be stable though. What about the 2000-year-old-date palm seed found in Israel. Grew into a tree.”

  “Plant seeds wait for the right environmental conditions in order to germinate. The same can’t be said for animals.”

  “What about water bears? They can survive desiccation for up to ten years.”

  “Water bears are practically microscopic, Richard,” Jules said. “What we’re talking about here is preserving a complex multi-cellular organism – a large one – in an ametabolic state, and not for just a few years.”

  Jules loved this intellectual sparring with Richard. Each of them playing the devil’s advocate, asking questions and speculating. It made for some cracking good arguments over the years and, right now, the normality was comforting.

  “But what if it wasn’t about preserving the whole beastie?” Richard said, enthusiastically. “What if a fertilised egg were to freeze-dry under natural conditions? And then, when conditions are suitable, it’s reconstituted in water. Voilà – instant living-breathing Sphenodon.”

  “Just add water?”

  “Yep.”

  Jules shook her head. “The odds are too long. Lyophilisation is simple enough in theory, but in practise it’s hard to
get right. There has to be a simpler explanation.”

  Richard just shrugged, shifting his bottom on the pack next to her. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t possible. It’s already been done in nature. Under the Siberian permafrost, with the woolly mammoth.”

  Jules frowned. “I’m not buying it. Those mammoths died slowly. They weren’t snap-frozen like a packet of peas.”

  “Their DNA was preserved though. So what we’re suggesting is plausible. What if our fertilised eggs dried out slowly in the nest? What if they were laid close to a geothermal area? And there might have been remains in the nest – proteins or sugars – that acted as cryo-protectants that spared the eggs from damage. Then, imagine if New Zealand – or what would eventually become New Zealand – suffered a cold snap? It’s bigger than a chicken egg, but a desiccated Sphenodon egg wouldn’t be so big that it couldn’t freeze quickly. And what if it was mired in silt, say under a landslip – that would add pressure and contribute to the freeze-drying process.”

  There were rather a lot of ‘ifs’ in Richard’s speech. “In any case, it’s all just conjecture,” Jules said.

  Richard looked into the bush where the creature had disappeared. “No Jules, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s reality. However it happened, that creature is out there.”

  * * *

  Taine and Coolie surveyed the damage. The clearing looked like a bachelor’s bedroom; clothes and gadgets scattered from one end of the campsite to the other. Taine stepped over an upturned boot, out in the middle of nowhere, as if it had been flung there in anger. Two of the hootchies were munted, the fabric torn, their ropes dangling forlornly. The radio was wrecked too, its face crushed under the animal’s weight, the dials mangled. While Coolie retrieved Read’s end of the rope, picking the knot free, Taine stooped to examine Jules’ toothbrush, buried bristle-down in the dirt where she’d tripped.

  “Time to get everyone out of here, Boss?”

  Taine nodded. “We better tell de Haas.”

  The geologist was in his tent. He scrambled out, pulling on a jacket. “I’m calling off the mission,” de Haas said, getting to his feet.