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fredbassettTitle : Crow on the Cradle, Part 14 of 15
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen/Ryan, Lester/Lyle, Cutter, Claudia, Abby, Connor, OCs.
Disclaimer : Not mine (except all OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Lyle’s mother is on the scent of a story and it looks increasingly like the ARC team aren’t the only ones with knowledge of the anomalies.
A/N : this is my first official Primeval Big Bang! With many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lukadreaming for incomparable beta work and for holding my paw throughout a very long writing process. The total word count is 51,277 and I will be posting in 15 parts.
Cutter’s Land Rover had reached the mid-point of the swollen river. The professor was a skilled driver but even so there had been at least two occasions when Ryan had thought he was about to lose control. The first time was when he’d hit a deep rut in the river bed and forward progress had stalled abruptly. The second time, a dead tree carried down by the torrent had slammed into the side of the vehicle and slewed the Land Rover around so that it was broadside on to the weight of water bearing down on it. Ryan had watched Cutter fight for and finally regain control of the vehicle before finally exhaling a long sigh of relief.
The noises from the forest told Ryan that various predators and scavengers were massing, drawn by the scent of blood and death. They’d seen a few creatures poking their noses out from the cover of the trees and ferns, and a few of the smaller, bolder ones had already darted out and started to feed. In Ryan’s opinion it was only a matter of time before something else large and nasty turned up, but for the moment, the four men stayed crouched beside the Land Rover, weapons ready, waiting for the flood to subside enough for them to tackle the crossing. Kermit, still in the driver’s seat, was staring intently at the river.
If matters went according to Ryan’s plan, Cutter would get the wounded back through the anomaly cluster as fast as possible, leaving Stephen and Porter to provide additional covering fire from across the river. If things got sticky on their side, they could take the Range Rover Discovery they’d left there earlier. Ryan had been tracking how fast the flood was receding by placing stones at the water’s edge. The fall in the level was noticeable, even without the evidence of the markers, and the sun now shone brightly in a cerulean sky, carrying no further threat of rain. Water still dripped from the fern fronds growing in clumps at the river’s edge and the drone of insects surrounded them.
Ryan’s black uniform clung to him in the humid heat and he felt trails of sweat making their way down his back. He dashed more sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and continued to watch Cutter’s progress across the river. The Land Rover had been carried at least 20 metres down river, but in itself that would present no problem. The flood pain was wide and shallow and for much of the time the riverbed would be dry, the way it had been when Mason’s group had first crossed it. There was no bank to climb, so all Cutter had to do was choose a spot without too much vegetation and make his exit at that point.
Cutter was two-thirds of the way across now, the Land Rover still lurching and bumping its way forwards. The murky brown water was now only at the height of the wheel arches, rather than lapping over the bonnet, which was no doubt a distinct improvement for the driver and passengers. Just for a moment forward movement came to an abrupt halt and Ryan’s indrawn breath hitched in his throat, then the Land Rover broke free of whatever was impeding its progress – possibly some underwater debris – and surged forward again.
As the vehicle drove clear of the water, Ryan was conscious of a collective sigh of relief being heaved around him. He switched his attention back to the edge of the forest. The carcasses of the two huge tyrannosauruses had now attracted numerous scavengers but there was enough meat to go around. At least for anything with a normal appetite…
Ryan noticed the tree tops swaying slightly, but there was no breeze. The air was thick with the aftermath of the storm, undisturbed by even the slightest breath of wind. He licked his finger and held it up for confirmation. At his side, Carl Dewar shifted position and raised his rifle.
“Kermit, keep your eye on the water level,” Ryan instructed. “As soon as you think we have a halfway decent chance, we go for it.”
An enormous head broke out of the cover of the trees. At his side, Dewar muttered, “Fucking hell.”
At a rough estimate, Ryan reckoned the beast stalking in magisterial fashion out of the trees was at least three metres taller than either of the ones they’d already brought down. Its colouring was darker, more brown than grey-green and Ryan wondered whether that was a change that came with age. No doubt Connor would have some observations on the subject if they all lived to discuss the matter.
“Any advice?” Ryan asked the mercenary, conscious both of Dewar’s experience with big game hunting and his greater experience in this particular environment.
“It’s probably a cliché, but stay still is the best I can think of,” Dewar replied. “There’s plenty to keep it occupied provided we don’t attract its attention.”
“It might like tinned food,” Lyle said, pumping a grenade into the underslung M203 attachment on the rifle Ryan had traded with him earlier.
“Shame on it when there’s plenty of nice fresh stuff available. It ought to be setting a better example to the kiddies,” Stringer commented.
“We shot the kiddies,” said Lyle.
“And Daddy doesn’t look happy about it.” As Stringer spoke, the gigantic predator took two long strides to the nearest carcass and buried its muzzle in the mess of guts spilling out onto the damp ground.
“You were saying…?” Lyle said with a grin. “Doesn’t look very paternal to me. I hope someone’s taking notes, Connor’s going to want a full report.”
“Should have brought a camera...”
The tyrannosaurus lifted its dripping jaws from the dead body at its feet and roared. The smaller scavengers grouped around the other carcass promptly scattered into the forest. Ryan was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was holding his breath and his pulse was racing as adrenaline flooded his system, triggering his flight or fight reaction. In the face of the largest predator ever to walk the face of the earth staying still was very probably the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. His stomach churned with fear and for the first time in a very long time in a combat situation, he felt a desperate urge to empty his bladder.
“Am I the only one who really, really wants a piss?” Lyle said quietly.
“I’m just fucking glad I had a crap before we left,” said Stringer before Ryan had the chance to reply.
The sound of the other Land Rover’s engine could still be heard over the noise of the rushing water behind them and Ryan watched as the tyrannosaur’s head started to wave from side to side. Ryan couldn’t work out which sense was its dominant one: hearing, smell or sight and he had a feeling it was working on a combination of all three.
“Cutter’s stopped,” Kermit reported. “Jesus, he’s turned the fucking engine off.”
“He’s trying not to attract its attention,” said Dewar. “It’s started to take an interest in the movement and your guy knows the river isn’t going to stop it. It would barely come up to that fucker’s knees.”
Moving very slowly and very carefully, Ryan took two steps backwards to bring himself level with the open passenger side window. “Kermit, give me the radio.” He thumbed the transmit button and hoped he wasn’t going to be greeted with nothing more than a static crackle. “Cutter, you have wounded on board. Get the fuck out of here.”
“It was watching us move,” Cutter replied. “We can’t risk leading it through the anomaly. If that creature gets into another time period it could do incalculable damage.”
Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, knowing from previous experience that Cutter was impossible to argue with on some subjects. “Cutter, we’ll do our best to slow it down. We have two grenades left. Get the hell out of here and take Hart and Porter with you. This supersedes previous instructions. Acknowledge, please.”
“Nice try, but no dice,” Lyle predicted. “He’s a stubborn bastard.”
“I can’t do that, Ryan,” Cutter replied, living up to Lyle’s expectations. “If we stay still then there’s a very good chance it’ll leave us all alone. The area near you is knee-deep in meat. If we don’t provide a moving target then we’ll be all right. Once it starts feeding properly we’ll be able to make a run for it.”
“He’s right,” said Dewar. “And the smell from the other two will go a long way towards masking our scent, plus we’re down wind of it.”
The mercenary had a hunter’s instincts and he was right, although it wasn’t something that Ryan had noticed until then. A light breeze had blown up and was carrying a dry, almost musky scent towards them that reminded him of the smell of Abby’s pet snakes. He concentrated on keeping his breathing as slow and even as possible in the hope of bringing his heart rate down but he wasn’t expecting much in the way of success. He was just pleased that he hadn’t already needed a change of underwear, although it had been touch and go for a few moments.
He was strongly tempted to tell Lyle to use the last two grenades in the hope of bringing an end to the situation but that would leave them with almost nothing in reserve and if their experiences in the Forest of Dean were anything to go by, these creatures could sometimes be found in surprisingly large numbers.
The T. rex lifted its head again and let out another bellow, spraying blood and mucus around in a wide arc. From some distance away, an answering bellow almost brought and end to what was left of Ryan’s composure.
“That came from the other side of the river,” Dewar commented.
“Cutter, you’re about to get company,” Ryan said into the radio.
“Aye, you might be right… Ah, bugger it, you are right…”
For once, Cutter’s rolling rs raised no amusement at all. Ryan spared a quick look over his shoulder and was not comforted by the site of another tyrannosaurus, no less large than the one on their side, stalking along next to the river. It lowered its head to the water and drunk copiously, then tilted its head to one side in a now-familiar gesture.
“This could be a good thing,” Carl Dewar said. “They might be more interested in ripping shit out of each other instead of bothering with small fry like us. Now if we can only get ‘em together...”
It was notable that no one told the mercenary he’d been watching too many films. Dewar had the same calm confidence in the face of animals – even the ones that they were facing – that Abby so often displayed in the field and all the soldiers attached to the anomaly project had long since learnt to respect her opinions. Dewar’s experience might have been gained in different ways, but it was no less valid.
With water still dripping from its snout, the T. rex continued to prowl along beside the river. The black Range Rover Discovery was between it and Cutter’s vehicle. The creature stopped, sniffed at it, and carried on walking, each stride bringing it closer to Cutter and the others.
The beast on their side of the river lowered its head to the bleeding carcass at its feet and ripped a large chunk of flesh out of the distended belly, chewing on it slowly as blood dripped from the fresh meat. Between mouthfuls it paused to throw its head back and emit loud, gurgling roars that sent further spikes of adrenaline through Ryan’s system.
“Staking its claim to the kill?” Stringer said, addressing the question to Dewar.
“Looks like it,” the mercenary agreed.
On the opposite bank, the other tyrannosaur stopped in its tracks and turned to face its rival. Its tail was lashing from side to side like that of an angry cat and one such swing connected hard with the Discovery, flipping it over onto its side in the river as if it had weighed no more than a child’s toy car. If the T. rex got close enough to the other vehicle to inflict similar damage, Cutter’s plan of simply staying still and not attracting its attention could prove to have a very large flaw.
The tyrannosaurus on their side of the river dropped its head to the bloody and now partially dismembered body of one of its own kind and started to feed again. Over the gut-clenching noises it was making, Lyle suddenly remarked, “My thumbs are itching.”
Ryan turned to his friend, knowing perfectly well that a look of incredulity had almost certainly settled on his face. “Jon, I’m not sure how it’s escaped your fucking notice, but we are stuck in between two fucking T. rexes with a flooded river thrown in for good measure. Of course your fucking thumbs are itching.”
By way of an answer, Lyle’s hand snaked out and gave Ryan a hard shove, a second before the crack of a rifle bullet made it clear that someone had very nearly blown Ryan’s head off. Another shot followed a fraction of a second later and Lyle swore loudly.
“Creased my fucking leg,” the lieutenant reported as the four men rapidly made use of whatever cover the Land Rover could provide. Another bullet carved a deep furrow along one side of the vehicle.
“It’s Harris and he wants to steal a ride,” Dewar said, slamming home the bolt action on his rifle and looking for a target for return fire.
“He could have tried asking nicely,” said Ryan, loosing a three-round burst into the trees in the hoping of making their attacker keep his head down.
“Maybe he thinks some of us might be a tad annoyed with him,” Lyle commented, hissing with pain as he shifted his weight onto his uninjured leg.
To Ryan’s surprise, the tyrannosaur was more intent on its meal than it was on either the noise of the gunshots or their movement. Inside the Land Rover, Kermit had crouched down and was replying to Cutter’s demand to know what the hell was happening.
A bullet kicked up a spray of dirt only a few inches away from Ryan’s position. If he’d been in Harris’s shoes, Ryan would have started firing underneath the Land Rover, aiming for their crouched bodies. The vehicle itself would provide very little protection, but if Dewar was right, Ben Harris wouldn’t risk damaging his ride out of there.
“Chuck your guns down and walk away from the vehicle!”
The sound of Harris’s voice provided a target and Stringer delivered their answer in the form of a single shot.
“That’s a ‘no’,” Ryan yelled. He cast a glance at the water. It was definitely lower that it had been when they’d arrived and if Kermit kept gunning the engine, they had a good chance of making the crossing even with the exhaust under water. He lowered his voice and asked, “Dewar, what are the chances of that big sod over there ignoring us if we try to fuck off across the river?”
Carl Dewar shrugged. “I’ve got no fucking idea but we’ll be heading straight into its territory.”
“So what happens if this one follows us?”
Dewar stared at the churning waters. “We can’t make it across there faster than it can.”
“We can if it thinks twice about going into the other one’s territory.”
“And if it doesn’t follow us at all?”
“Then we have one less T. rex to deal with and a grenade left for the one over there. And if it does follow us then they can keep each other occupied.”
A burst of automatic fire from the trees came all too close for comfort. Stringer reacted quickly as Dewar said, “What about Harris?”
“He’s made his bed, now he can fucking lie on it,” Ryan declared. Renegade mercenaries with a penchant for rape were not high on his list of concerns, particularly as the man appeared to have no compunction about opening fire on his former boss. “You got a problem with that?”
“He just tried to kill me. I’m fresh out of sympathy.”
Ryan grinned. “Good. Jon, wait until Harris has another go at us then I want one of those grenades lobbed into the trees, as close to him as you can get. If it takes him out, good, if it doesn’t, it’ll still buy us time. Save the last one for a deserving cause.”
Lyle’s answering grin was wolfish. “Flush out his position and then cover me.”
Stringer reached around to the side of the vehicle and pulled the front passenger door open. It immediately acquired a hole to add to all the other things that would cause it to fail its next MOT.
Ryan sent three shots into the undergrowth as Lyle straightened up, taking his weight on the bonnet, and pulled the trigger on the grenade launcher. The high explosive round hit a large, fat-bodied tree fern and the force of the explosion sent lumps of wood and other debris raining down in a wide arc. Without waiting to see the full effect of the blast, the four men heaved open the doors of the Land Rover as Kermit started the engine and immediately edged the vehicle into the river.
The blast certainly succeeded in attracting the attention of the tyrannosaurus as chunks of wood flew in a wide arc, peppering its thick hide and no doubt doing some damage. Not enough to maim, but certainly serious enough to put the beast in a bad temper. It roared again but showed no sign of wanting to leave the scene, unlike the rest of the smaller creatures who were already scuttling away like cockroaches in a darkened room running away from a bright light.
On the far side of the river, the other T. rex was still stalking slowly along beside the fast-flowing water, staring across at its rival and roaring in a way that was undoubtedly a challenge. Ryan had absolutely no idea what size of territory the beasts ruled, or even if the river was a real boundary, but he was pretty certain they were going to get an answer to that question in the very near future. In the meantime, Cutter and the others had remained inside their vehicle, doing absolutely nothing to attract its attention, although Ryan could see rifle barrels poking out of the windows in the hands of both Stephen and Porter.
Kermit kept up the revs on the engine as the force of water started to break around the Land Rover. Ryan felt the wheels struggling to find their grip but he knew what the vehicle was capable of and the water level was starting to drop, so as long as Kermit kept the engine from stalling, their chances of making it across were good. What was waiting for them on the other side was rather less than good.
Ryan grabbed the microphone for the radio and said urgently, “Cutter, either our mate on this side is going to come over for a re-run of King Kong v. Godzilla or your friend is going to start taking an interest in us. Either way, when I say go, you go. Got that? We’ll make sure you’re not followed.”
“I’m not risking that thing following us through the anomaly…”
“And it won’t!” Ryan snapped. “Do as you’re fucking told, Professor. This is non-negotiable.” Ryan was using a tone he’d honed to the same edge as Blade had on his knives and if Cutter didn’t do as he was told, Ryan was going to fucking deck the man when he finally caught up with him, tyrannosaurus or no tyrannosaurus.
“Aye, I hear you,” Cutter acknowledged. “Connor reckons both beasties are spoiling for a fight.”
“So does Dewar,” Ryan confirmed. He glanced over his shoulder. The tyrannosaurus had become aware of their movement and had covered the distance to the water’s edge in three long strides. It was now no more than 50 metres away from them, but its attention appeared to be focussed on its rival as Dewar had predicted.
After a brief moment of silence in which all Ryan could hear was the sound of the engine and the noise of the water parting around them, a ferocious bellowing broke out on both sides of the torrent. It reminded him of two bulls he’d seen on opposite sides of a road, each hanging their heads over a fence and roaring the bovine equivalent of insults back and forwards.
“My money’s on our guy,” Dewar commented, grabbing the back of one of the seats to stop himself being pitched forward as the Land Rover rolled over what felt like a very large rock in the riverbed and tilted alarmingly.
“Twenty quid on the other one,” Lyle countered. “Your guy might be big, but mine looks like he could be nippier on his feet.”
In spite of their situation, Ryan couldn’t hold back a snort of incredulous laughter. The capacity of soldiers to lay bets on anything under the sun was well known, but this was extreme, even by their standards.
Without needing to be told, Kermit did his best to set the Land Rover on course to allow them to break out of the water some distance away from the T. rex on the bank they were now approaching. He was hoping to lead it away from the vehicle containing Cutter and the others. Once out of the water, they would have a reasonably broad shoreline to manoeuvre in and their chances would improve. They would probably be at their most vulnerable just as they emerged from the river.
The engine coughed and for a heart-stopping moment, Ryan thought Kermit had let the revs drop too far and as a result the exhaust was starting to flood, but the young soldier eased down on the throttle a bit harder and they shot out of the water. The T. rex was suddenly torn between tracking a moving prey and continuing its pissing contest with the one on the other side. Quick decisions clearly weren’t its strong point and they rapidly put some clear air between them before Kermit brought the vehicle around in a wide sweep to face back upstream and waited for further instructions.
“Hold steady a moment,” Ryan said, trying to gauge what the hell might happen next. “Dewar?”
“Wait,” the mercenary advised.
Ryan thumbed the switch on the radio and to his amazement it was still working, despite the large quantity of water they had taken on board. “Cutter, hold position.” He hesitated a moment and then added, “Have you lot started a betting pool yet?”
Cutter’s laugh crackled through the handset. “Abby’s money’s on the one on the other side, but Stephen fancies the wee one over here.”
Ryan could hear Stephen in the background calmly suggesting that Cutter rephrased that and the soldier was left wondering at what point in the last couple of years the civilians on the team had ended up quite as crazy as their minders.
“Here comes Godzilla,” said Dewar, as the creature on the far side of the river planted one enormous foot into the water.
Three strides took it to the centre of the river. It stopped, the water foaming up around lower limbs the side of tree trunks, and let out a roar that exceeded anything they’d heard so far.
“Attention seeking wee bugger,” commented Cutter over the still-open radio channel.
“He has an odd definition of wee,” Lyle said still grinning, in spite of the blood oozing from his injured leg. Ryan knew the lieutenant was as high as a kite on a mix of adrenaline and endorphins and almost certainly wouldn’t even be feeling the pain yet.
More roaring from the T. rex that Ryan was now thinking of as King Kong greeted what it was clearly seeing as an incursion into its territory. If the two dinosaurs kept their attention focussed on each other, there was a chance Kermit could start to edge the Land Rover forward. The two beasts were now staring at each other, heads waving again, the muscles in their strong necks rippling under their leathery hides. One lunged forward, teeth snapping. The other swayed to one side and so began a fighting dance of almost impossible ferocity combined with a grace that was surprising in creatures so huge.
“Time to take a chance,” Dewar quietly, eyes intent on what was happening on the riverbank.
“Cutter, start moving,” Ryan instructed. They still had one rifle grenade left that they could use to buy some time if needed and now looked like it was as good as it was going to get. He was also conscious of the fact that Cutter had injured men on board and he still didn’t know whether Blade had regained consciousness, although he doubted that the others would have been making jokes if he’d actually died. He didn’t think the civilian members of the team would go quite that far. Not yet, anyway.
It was impossible to hear the sound of the other Land Rover’s engine starting up over the noise the two tyrannosaurs were making and Ryan watched as Cutter slowly pulled away then gathered speed. The fight was still in its early stages and no serious blood had been spilt yet, but the two beasts were wholly focussed on each other as they trampled the soft ground of the riverbank under their enormous feet.
Ryan exchanged a glance with Dewar, raising his eyebrows questioningly. In response to the mercenary’s nod he ordered, “OK, Kermit, let’s shift.”
Their progress seemed painfully slow, but in reality they were soon travelling as fast as they dared without attracting undue attention. The creatures were still circling each other, lunging back and forwards, tails providing counter-balance to the movement of their upper bodies and on one occasion coming far too close for comfort forcing Kermit to yank the steering wheel over hard and accelerate out of trouble.
Stringer let out a long and inventive stream of profanity and Ryan was certain he’d caught a mention of a ferret’s foreskin somewhere along the line, although the context wasn’t wholly clear, and then they were past the immediate danger and gathering more speed. Apart from Kermit, the other four passengers swivelled around to watch what was happening behind them.
The two predators appeared to be oblivious to the two Land Rovers, still intent on their own activities. Ryan watched as one lunged again and this time succeeded in getting a grip on the other one’s neck. It looked like Dewar had been right to put his money on the bigger of the two creatures…
Behind him, Lyle gave a startled yell. “I don’t bloody believe it!”
“What?” Ryan demanded, wondering what the hell was about to try to rip them apart now.
“They’re not fighting!”
“Then why has that one got its teeth buried in the other one’s neck?”
Carl Dewar started laughing. “They’re not fighting, they’re fucking!”
Their laughter was still echoing in Ryan’s ears as Kermit gunned the engine as hard as he could, every metre of ground gained by the battered vehicle carrying them towards a very welcome exit from a hostile world.
Ed Mason and his clients had come there with the intention of exploiting the riches of the past in a way that few people would even have contemplated. It had cost him and numerous other people their lives. Their bodies would have to lay unburied, food for the denizens of a hostile world. Ben Harris’s fate was unknown, but Ryan was confident that no rescue missions would be mounted. Harris had forfeited that right twice over.
As they left one anomaly behind them and accelerated across the short grass towards the one that would carry them back to the grounds of Farnley Hall, Ryan finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief, before announcing, “I think that buggers up the betting pool, guys.”
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen/Ryan, Lester/Lyle, Cutter, Claudia, Abby, Connor, OCs.
Disclaimer : Not mine (except all OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Lyle’s mother is on the scent of a story and it looks increasingly like the ARC team aren’t the only ones with knowledge of the anomalies.
A/N : this is my first official Primeval Big Bang! With many thanks to
lukadreaming for incomparable beta work and for holding my paw throughout a very long writing process. The total word count is 51,277 and I will be posting in 15 parts.Cutter’s Land Rover had reached the mid-point of the swollen river. The professor was a skilled driver but even so there had been at least two occasions when Ryan had thought he was about to lose control. The first time was when he’d hit a deep rut in the river bed and forward progress had stalled abruptly. The second time, a dead tree carried down by the torrent had slammed into the side of the vehicle and slewed the Land Rover around so that it was broadside on to the weight of water bearing down on it. Ryan had watched Cutter fight for and finally regain control of the vehicle before finally exhaling a long sigh of relief.
The noises from the forest told Ryan that various predators and scavengers were massing, drawn by the scent of blood and death. They’d seen a few creatures poking their noses out from the cover of the trees and ferns, and a few of the smaller, bolder ones had already darted out and started to feed. In Ryan’s opinion it was only a matter of time before something else large and nasty turned up, but for the moment, the four men stayed crouched beside the Land Rover, weapons ready, waiting for the flood to subside enough for them to tackle the crossing. Kermit, still in the driver’s seat, was staring intently at the river.
If matters went according to Ryan’s plan, Cutter would get the wounded back through the anomaly cluster as fast as possible, leaving Stephen and Porter to provide additional covering fire from across the river. If things got sticky on their side, they could take the Range Rover Discovery they’d left there earlier. Ryan had been tracking how fast the flood was receding by placing stones at the water’s edge. The fall in the level was noticeable, even without the evidence of the markers, and the sun now shone brightly in a cerulean sky, carrying no further threat of rain. Water still dripped from the fern fronds growing in clumps at the river’s edge and the drone of insects surrounded them.
Ryan’s black uniform clung to him in the humid heat and he felt trails of sweat making their way down his back. He dashed more sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and continued to watch Cutter’s progress across the river. The Land Rover had been carried at least 20 metres down river, but in itself that would present no problem. The flood pain was wide and shallow and for much of the time the riverbed would be dry, the way it had been when Mason’s group had first crossed it. There was no bank to climb, so all Cutter had to do was choose a spot without too much vegetation and make his exit at that point.
Cutter was two-thirds of the way across now, the Land Rover still lurching and bumping its way forwards. The murky brown water was now only at the height of the wheel arches, rather than lapping over the bonnet, which was no doubt a distinct improvement for the driver and passengers. Just for a moment forward movement came to an abrupt halt and Ryan’s indrawn breath hitched in his throat, then the Land Rover broke free of whatever was impeding its progress – possibly some underwater debris – and surged forward again.
As the vehicle drove clear of the water, Ryan was conscious of a collective sigh of relief being heaved around him. He switched his attention back to the edge of the forest. The carcasses of the two huge tyrannosauruses had now attracted numerous scavengers but there was enough meat to go around. At least for anything with a normal appetite…
Ryan noticed the tree tops swaying slightly, but there was no breeze. The air was thick with the aftermath of the storm, undisturbed by even the slightest breath of wind. He licked his finger and held it up for confirmation. At his side, Carl Dewar shifted position and raised his rifle.
“Kermit, keep your eye on the water level,” Ryan instructed. “As soon as you think we have a halfway decent chance, we go for it.”
An enormous head broke out of the cover of the trees. At his side, Dewar muttered, “Fucking hell.”
At a rough estimate, Ryan reckoned the beast stalking in magisterial fashion out of the trees was at least three metres taller than either of the ones they’d already brought down. Its colouring was darker, more brown than grey-green and Ryan wondered whether that was a change that came with age. No doubt Connor would have some observations on the subject if they all lived to discuss the matter.
“Any advice?” Ryan asked the mercenary, conscious both of Dewar’s experience with big game hunting and his greater experience in this particular environment.
“It’s probably a cliché, but stay still is the best I can think of,” Dewar replied. “There’s plenty to keep it occupied provided we don’t attract its attention.”
“It might like tinned food,” Lyle said, pumping a grenade into the underslung M203 attachment on the rifle Ryan had traded with him earlier.
“Shame on it when there’s plenty of nice fresh stuff available. It ought to be setting a better example to the kiddies,” Stringer commented.
“We shot the kiddies,” said Lyle.
“And Daddy doesn’t look happy about it.” As Stringer spoke, the gigantic predator took two long strides to the nearest carcass and buried its muzzle in the mess of guts spilling out onto the damp ground.
“You were saying…?” Lyle said with a grin. “Doesn’t look very paternal to me. I hope someone’s taking notes, Connor’s going to want a full report.”
“Should have brought a camera...”
The tyrannosaurus lifted its dripping jaws from the dead body at its feet and roared. The smaller scavengers grouped around the other carcass promptly scattered into the forest. Ryan was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was holding his breath and his pulse was racing as adrenaline flooded his system, triggering his flight or fight reaction. In the face of the largest predator ever to walk the face of the earth staying still was very probably the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. His stomach churned with fear and for the first time in a very long time in a combat situation, he felt a desperate urge to empty his bladder.
“Am I the only one who really, really wants a piss?” Lyle said quietly.
“I’m just fucking glad I had a crap before we left,” said Stringer before Ryan had the chance to reply.
The sound of the other Land Rover’s engine could still be heard over the noise of the rushing water behind them and Ryan watched as the tyrannosaur’s head started to wave from side to side. Ryan couldn’t work out which sense was its dominant one: hearing, smell or sight and he had a feeling it was working on a combination of all three.
“Cutter’s stopped,” Kermit reported. “Jesus, he’s turned the fucking engine off.”
“He’s trying not to attract its attention,” said Dewar. “It’s started to take an interest in the movement and your guy knows the river isn’t going to stop it. It would barely come up to that fucker’s knees.”
Moving very slowly and very carefully, Ryan took two steps backwards to bring himself level with the open passenger side window. “Kermit, give me the radio.” He thumbed the transmit button and hoped he wasn’t going to be greeted with nothing more than a static crackle. “Cutter, you have wounded on board. Get the fuck out of here.”
“It was watching us move,” Cutter replied. “We can’t risk leading it through the anomaly. If that creature gets into another time period it could do incalculable damage.”
Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, knowing from previous experience that Cutter was impossible to argue with on some subjects. “Cutter, we’ll do our best to slow it down. We have two grenades left. Get the hell out of here and take Hart and Porter with you. This supersedes previous instructions. Acknowledge, please.”
“Nice try, but no dice,” Lyle predicted. “He’s a stubborn bastard.”
“I can’t do that, Ryan,” Cutter replied, living up to Lyle’s expectations. “If we stay still then there’s a very good chance it’ll leave us all alone. The area near you is knee-deep in meat. If we don’t provide a moving target then we’ll be all right. Once it starts feeding properly we’ll be able to make a run for it.”
“He’s right,” said Dewar. “And the smell from the other two will go a long way towards masking our scent, plus we’re down wind of it.”
The mercenary had a hunter’s instincts and he was right, although it wasn’t something that Ryan had noticed until then. A light breeze had blown up and was carrying a dry, almost musky scent towards them that reminded him of the smell of Abby’s pet snakes. He concentrated on keeping his breathing as slow and even as possible in the hope of bringing his heart rate down but he wasn’t expecting much in the way of success. He was just pleased that he hadn’t already needed a change of underwear, although it had been touch and go for a few moments.
He was strongly tempted to tell Lyle to use the last two grenades in the hope of bringing an end to the situation but that would leave them with almost nothing in reserve and if their experiences in the Forest of Dean were anything to go by, these creatures could sometimes be found in surprisingly large numbers.
The T. rex lifted its head again and let out another bellow, spraying blood and mucus around in a wide arc. From some distance away, an answering bellow almost brought and end to what was left of Ryan’s composure.
“That came from the other side of the river,” Dewar commented.
“Cutter, you’re about to get company,” Ryan said into the radio.
“Aye, you might be right… Ah, bugger it, you are right…”
For once, Cutter’s rolling rs raised no amusement at all. Ryan spared a quick look over his shoulder and was not comforted by the site of another tyrannosaurus, no less large than the one on their side, stalking along next to the river. It lowered its head to the water and drunk copiously, then tilted its head to one side in a now-familiar gesture.
“This could be a good thing,” Carl Dewar said. “They might be more interested in ripping shit out of each other instead of bothering with small fry like us. Now if we can only get ‘em together...”
It was notable that no one told the mercenary he’d been watching too many films. Dewar had the same calm confidence in the face of animals – even the ones that they were facing – that Abby so often displayed in the field and all the soldiers attached to the anomaly project had long since learnt to respect her opinions. Dewar’s experience might have been gained in different ways, but it was no less valid.
With water still dripping from its snout, the T. rex continued to prowl along beside the river. The black Range Rover Discovery was between it and Cutter’s vehicle. The creature stopped, sniffed at it, and carried on walking, each stride bringing it closer to Cutter and the others.
The beast on their side of the river lowered its head to the bleeding carcass at its feet and ripped a large chunk of flesh out of the distended belly, chewing on it slowly as blood dripped from the fresh meat. Between mouthfuls it paused to throw its head back and emit loud, gurgling roars that sent further spikes of adrenaline through Ryan’s system.
“Staking its claim to the kill?” Stringer said, addressing the question to Dewar.
“Looks like it,” the mercenary agreed.
On the opposite bank, the other tyrannosaur stopped in its tracks and turned to face its rival. Its tail was lashing from side to side like that of an angry cat and one such swing connected hard with the Discovery, flipping it over onto its side in the river as if it had weighed no more than a child’s toy car. If the T. rex got close enough to the other vehicle to inflict similar damage, Cutter’s plan of simply staying still and not attracting its attention could prove to have a very large flaw.
The tyrannosaurus on their side of the river dropped its head to the bloody and now partially dismembered body of one of its own kind and started to feed again. Over the gut-clenching noises it was making, Lyle suddenly remarked, “My thumbs are itching.”
Ryan turned to his friend, knowing perfectly well that a look of incredulity had almost certainly settled on his face. “Jon, I’m not sure how it’s escaped your fucking notice, but we are stuck in between two fucking T. rexes with a flooded river thrown in for good measure. Of course your fucking thumbs are itching.”
By way of an answer, Lyle’s hand snaked out and gave Ryan a hard shove, a second before the crack of a rifle bullet made it clear that someone had very nearly blown Ryan’s head off. Another shot followed a fraction of a second later and Lyle swore loudly.
“Creased my fucking leg,” the lieutenant reported as the four men rapidly made use of whatever cover the Land Rover could provide. Another bullet carved a deep furrow along one side of the vehicle.
“It’s Harris and he wants to steal a ride,” Dewar said, slamming home the bolt action on his rifle and looking for a target for return fire.
“He could have tried asking nicely,” said Ryan, loosing a three-round burst into the trees in the hoping of making their attacker keep his head down.
“Maybe he thinks some of us might be a tad annoyed with him,” Lyle commented, hissing with pain as he shifted his weight onto his uninjured leg.
To Ryan’s surprise, the tyrannosaur was more intent on its meal than it was on either the noise of the gunshots or their movement. Inside the Land Rover, Kermit had crouched down and was replying to Cutter’s demand to know what the hell was happening.
A bullet kicked up a spray of dirt only a few inches away from Ryan’s position. If he’d been in Harris’s shoes, Ryan would have started firing underneath the Land Rover, aiming for their crouched bodies. The vehicle itself would provide very little protection, but if Dewar was right, Ben Harris wouldn’t risk damaging his ride out of there.
“Chuck your guns down and walk away from the vehicle!”
The sound of Harris’s voice provided a target and Stringer delivered their answer in the form of a single shot.
“That’s a ‘no’,” Ryan yelled. He cast a glance at the water. It was definitely lower that it had been when they’d arrived and if Kermit kept gunning the engine, they had a good chance of making the crossing even with the exhaust under water. He lowered his voice and asked, “Dewar, what are the chances of that big sod over there ignoring us if we try to fuck off across the river?”
Carl Dewar shrugged. “I’ve got no fucking idea but we’ll be heading straight into its territory.”
“So what happens if this one follows us?”
Dewar stared at the churning waters. “We can’t make it across there faster than it can.”
“We can if it thinks twice about going into the other one’s territory.”
“And if it doesn’t follow us at all?”
“Then we have one less T. rex to deal with and a grenade left for the one over there. And if it does follow us then they can keep each other occupied.”
A burst of automatic fire from the trees came all too close for comfort. Stringer reacted quickly as Dewar said, “What about Harris?”
“He’s made his bed, now he can fucking lie on it,” Ryan declared. Renegade mercenaries with a penchant for rape were not high on his list of concerns, particularly as the man appeared to have no compunction about opening fire on his former boss. “You got a problem with that?”
“He just tried to kill me. I’m fresh out of sympathy.”
Ryan grinned. “Good. Jon, wait until Harris has another go at us then I want one of those grenades lobbed into the trees, as close to him as you can get. If it takes him out, good, if it doesn’t, it’ll still buy us time. Save the last one for a deserving cause.”
Lyle’s answering grin was wolfish. “Flush out his position and then cover me.”
Stringer reached around to the side of the vehicle and pulled the front passenger door open. It immediately acquired a hole to add to all the other things that would cause it to fail its next MOT.
Ryan sent three shots into the undergrowth as Lyle straightened up, taking his weight on the bonnet, and pulled the trigger on the grenade launcher. The high explosive round hit a large, fat-bodied tree fern and the force of the explosion sent lumps of wood and other debris raining down in a wide arc. Without waiting to see the full effect of the blast, the four men heaved open the doors of the Land Rover as Kermit started the engine and immediately edged the vehicle into the river.
The blast certainly succeeded in attracting the attention of the tyrannosaurus as chunks of wood flew in a wide arc, peppering its thick hide and no doubt doing some damage. Not enough to maim, but certainly serious enough to put the beast in a bad temper. It roared again but showed no sign of wanting to leave the scene, unlike the rest of the smaller creatures who were already scuttling away like cockroaches in a darkened room running away from a bright light.
On the far side of the river, the other T. rex was still stalking slowly along beside the fast-flowing water, staring across at its rival and roaring in a way that was undoubtedly a challenge. Ryan had absolutely no idea what size of territory the beasts ruled, or even if the river was a real boundary, but he was pretty certain they were going to get an answer to that question in the very near future. In the meantime, Cutter and the others had remained inside their vehicle, doing absolutely nothing to attract its attention, although Ryan could see rifle barrels poking out of the windows in the hands of both Stephen and Porter.
Kermit kept up the revs on the engine as the force of water started to break around the Land Rover. Ryan felt the wheels struggling to find their grip but he knew what the vehicle was capable of and the water level was starting to drop, so as long as Kermit kept the engine from stalling, their chances of making it across were good. What was waiting for them on the other side was rather less than good.
Ryan grabbed the microphone for the radio and said urgently, “Cutter, either our mate on this side is going to come over for a re-run of King Kong v. Godzilla or your friend is going to start taking an interest in us. Either way, when I say go, you go. Got that? We’ll make sure you’re not followed.”
“I’m not risking that thing following us through the anomaly…”
“And it won’t!” Ryan snapped. “Do as you’re fucking told, Professor. This is non-negotiable.” Ryan was using a tone he’d honed to the same edge as Blade had on his knives and if Cutter didn’t do as he was told, Ryan was going to fucking deck the man when he finally caught up with him, tyrannosaurus or no tyrannosaurus.
“Aye, I hear you,” Cutter acknowledged. “Connor reckons both beasties are spoiling for a fight.”
“So does Dewar,” Ryan confirmed. He glanced over his shoulder. The tyrannosaurus had become aware of their movement and had covered the distance to the water’s edge in three long strides. It was now no more than 50 metres away from them, but its attention appeared to be focussed on its rival as Dewar had predicted.
After a brief moment of silence in which all Ryan could hear was the sound of the engine and the noise of the water parting around them, a ferocious bellowing broke out on both sides of the torrent. It reminded him of two bulls he’d seen on opposite sides of a road, each hanging their heads over a fence and roaring the bovine equivalent of insults back and forwards.
“My money’s on our guy,” Dewar commented, grabbing the back of one of the seats to stop himself being pitched forward as the Land Rover rolled over what felt like a very large rock in the riverbed and tilted alarmingly.
“Twenty quid on the other one,” Lyle countered. “Your guy might be big, but mine looks like he could be nippier on his feet.”
In spite of their situation, Ryan couldn’t hold back a snort of incredulous laughter. The capacity of soldiers to lay bets on anything under the sun was well known, but this was extreme, even by their standards.
Without needing to be told, Kermit did his best to set the Land Rover on course to allow them to break out of the water some distance away from the T. rex on the bank they were now approaching. He was hoping to lead it away from the vehicle containing Cutter and the others. Once out of the water, they would have a reasonably broad shoreline to manoeuvre in and their chances would improve. They would probably be at their most vulnerable just as they emerged from the river.
The engine coughed and for a heart-stopping moment, Ryan thought Kermit had let the revs drop too far and as a result the exhaust was starting to flood, but the young soldier eased down on the throttle a bit harder and they shot out of the water. The T. rex was suddenly torn between tracking a moving prey and continuing its pissing contest with the one on the other side. Quick decisions clearly weren’t its strong point and they rapidly put some clear air between them before Kermit brought the vehicle around in a wide sweep to face back upstream and waited for further instructions.
“Hold steady a moment,” Ryan said, trying to gauge what the hell might happen next. “Dewar?”
“Wait,” the mercenary advised.
Ryan thumbed the switch on the radio and to his amazement it was still working, despite the large quantity of water they had taken on board. “Cutter, hold position.” He hesitated a moment and then added, “Have you lot started a betting pool yet?”
Cutter’s laugh crackled through the handset. “Abby’s money’s on the one on the other side, but Stephen fancies the wee one over here.”
Ryan could hear Stephen in the background calmly suggesting that Cutter rephrased that and the soldier was left wondering at what point in the last couple of years the civilians on the team had ended up quite as crazy as their minders.
“Here comes Godzilla,” said Dewar, as the creature on the far side of the river planted one enormous foot into the water.
Three strides took it to the centre of the river. It stopped, the water foaming up around lower limbs the side of tree trunks, and let out a roar that exceeded anything they’d heard so far.
“Attention seeking wee bugger,” commented Cutter over the still-open radio channel.
“He has an odd definition of wee,” Lyle said still grinning, in spite of the blood oozing from his injured leg. Ryan knew the lieutenant was as high as a kite on a mix of adrenaline and endorphins and almost certainly wouldn’t even be feeling the pain yet.
More roaring from the T. rex that Ryan was now thinking of as King Kong greeted what it was clearly seeing as an incursion into its territory. If the two dinosaurs kept their attention focussed on each other, there was a chance Kermit could start to edge the Land Rover forward. The two beasts were now staring at each other, heads waving again, the muscles in their strong necks rippling under their leathery hides. One lunged forward, teeth snapping. The other swayed to one side and so began a fighting dance of almost impossible ferocity combined with a grace that was surprising in creatures so huge.
“Time to take a chance,” Dewar quietly, eyes intent on what was happening on the riverbank.
“Cutter, start moving,” Ryan instructed. They still had one rifle grenade left that they could use to buy some time if needed and now looked like it was as good as it was going to get. He was also conscious of the fact that Cutter had injured men on board and he still didn’t know whether Blade had regained consciousness, although he doubted that the others would have been making jokes if he’d actually died. He didn’t think the civilian members of the team would go quite that far. Not yet, anyway.
It was impossible to hear the sound of the other Land Rover’s engine starting up over the noise the two tyrannosaurs were making and Ryan watched as Cutter slowly pulled away then gathered speed. The fight was still in its early stages and no serious blood had been spilt yet, but the two beasts were wholly focussed on each other as they trampled the soft ground of the riverbank under their enormous feet.
Ryan exchanged a glance with Dewar, raising his eyebrows questioningly. In response to the mercenary’s nod he ordered, “OK, Kermit, let’s shift.”
Their progress seemed painfully slow, but in reality they were soon travelling as fast as they dared without attracting undue attention. The creatures were still circling each other, lunging back and forwards, tails providing counter-balance to the movement of their upper bodies and on one occasion coming far too close for comfort forcing Kermit to yank the steering wheel over hard and accelerate out of trouble.
Stringer let out a long and inventive stream of profanity and Ryan was certain he’d caught a mention of a ferret’s foreskin somewhere along the line, although the context wasn’t wholly clear, and then they were past the immediate danger and gathering more speed. Apart from Kermit, the other four passengers swivelled around to watch what was happening behind them.
The two predators appeared to be oblivious to the two Land Rovers, still intent on their own activities. Ryan watched as one lunged again and this time succeeded in getting a grip on the other one’s neck. It looked like Dewar had been right to put his money on the bigger of the two creatures…
Behind him, Lyle gave a startled yell. “I don’t bloody believe it!”
“What?” Ryan demanded, wondering what the hell was about to try to rip them apart now.
“They’re not fighting!”
“Then why has that one got its teeth buried in the other one’s neck?”
Carl Dewar started laughing. “They’re not fighting, they’re fucking!”
Their laughter was still echoing in Ryan’s ears as Kermit gunned the engine as hard as he could, every metre of ground gained by the battered vehicle carrying them towards a very welcome exit from a hostile world.
Ed Mason and his clients had come there with the intention of exploiting the riches of the past in a way that few people would even have contemplated. It had cost him and numerous other people their lives. Their bodies would have to lay unburied, food for the denizens of a hostile world. Ben Harris’s fate was unknown, but Ryan was confident that no rescue missions would be mounted. Harris had forfeited that right twice over.
As they left one anomaly behind them and accelerated across the short grass towards the one that would carry them back to the grounds of Farnley Hall, Ryan finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief, before announcing, “I think that buggers up the betting pool, guys.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-07-01 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 08:30 pm (UTC)*Titters at the ferret's foreskin line*
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Date: 2011-07-02 01:10 am (UTC)Thanks for another excellent chapter.
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Date: 2011-07-02 07:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 08:35 pm (UTC)Excellent!
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Date: 2011-07-02 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 08:39 pm (UTC)Yay for them being on the right side of the anomaly!
*purrs loudly*
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Date: 2011-07-02 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 08:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 08:00 am (UTC)The logistics of that scene gave me absolute nightmares to work out.
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Date: 2011-07-01 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-01 10:28 pm (UTC)So very exciting and Ryan's frustration with Cutter was hilarious :D
Poor Lyle. *volunteers to stitch him*
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Date: 2011-07-02 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 04:12 am (UTC)It was so tense until I read this and I literally fell of the bed laughing*Giggle*
This chapter was the brilliant and yet I can't help feeling sad that theres only one left:(
You are a writing rock star!!!
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Date: 2011-07-02 08:02 am (UTC)Thanks, hon, and thanks for sticking with it for so long!
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Date: 2011-07-02 10:35 am (UTC)You and Ryan are wonderful narrators *g*
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Date: 2011-07-02 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 09:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-03 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-03 04:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-03 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-04 12:50 pm (UTC)Also... ferret's foreskin? Sounds vaguely familiar... *sniggers*
*drops a small mountain on Harris*
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Date: 2011-07-04 12:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-06 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-06 09:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-06 04:18 pm (UTC)And how you write, all the tension racheting up... And then a sharp burst of humour. Excellence! Absolute excellence!
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Date: 2011-07-06 05:50 pm (UTC)Thanks, pup! This chapter was a nightmare to write, but then the T rexes wrote their own ending.
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Date: 2011-07-06 05:42 pm (UTC)Thanks for such a funny end after a terribly tense part. Awesome! ^_^
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Date: 2011-07-06 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-10 08:54 am (UTC)////“We shot the kiddies,” said Lyle.////
Ooops. And LOL to Ryan's response to Lyle's itchy thumbs. Trust the T-Rexs to bugger (literally) the betting pool, but hey, even giant deadly monsters need some lovin'...
Poor Kermit didn't get to watch how the fight turned out!
Excellent!
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Date: 2011-07-10 09:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-11 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 09:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 08:48 am (UTC)I'm half expecting him to emerge, T-Rex like, to cause trouble in the final chapter though.
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Date: 2011-08-21 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-18 08:20 am (UTC)