Battle Lines (The Survivalist Book 5) (10 page)

BOOK: Battle Lines (The Survivalist Book 5)
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“Even if that’s true, they couldn’t have ordered an attack like this. You’d have to have the president’s signature—” She stopped and stared at him. “President Pike? He’s behind this? Are you sure?”

“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not sure. But I am certain that General Hood, who I’ve been told is Pike’s right-hand man, was responsible for the murder of hundreds of US marshals.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “What do marshals have to do with any of this?”

“Hood hired a band of mercenaries to kill the marshals in an attempt to get his hands on weapons stored at a law enforcement training center. Those weapons were then to be delivered to Lenny Bruce as part of a plan to remove President Glass.”

“How could you possibly know all this?”

“The lead mercenary told me of the plan.”

“And were the weapons ever delivered?”

“No. Bowie and I stopped them.” He reached down and scratched behind Bowie’s ears, and when he did, the dog’s hind leg began to bounce up and down.

“One man and his dog stopped a whole group of mercenaries?”

“What can I say? We can be pretty industrious.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, thinking.

“What post does General Hood hold?”

“I’ve been told he’s in charge of Special Operations.” Mason turned to look in the direction of the helicopters. “The kind of position that would give him access to prototype military hardware.”

“Do you have any proof? Something that would stand up in court?”

“There are no courts, Leila.”

“You know what I mean. Is there any hard evidence to follow?”

Mason shook his head. “Not really. What I have is the word of the mercenary hired to deliver the weapons and the confession of one of Hood’s operatives.”

“That’s not much.”

“It’s enough for me.”

“How do you know that these men weren’t lying?”

“Let me ask you something. If you knew you had only a few seconds to live, would you bother lying?”

“I suppose not. There’d be no reason to.”

“Then these men weren’t lying.”

She looked into his eyes.

“You killed them?”

“Let’s just say I encouraged both men to go for their pistols.”

“Like in some kind of old-fashioned gunfight?”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an old-fashioned gunfighter.”

Chapter 8  

 

 

Squatting beside to the stream, Tanner squeezed out the wet rag and handed it up to Samantha.

“Really, it’s not so bad,” he said, covering a smile. “You’ve almost got it all off.”

She used the rag to wipe the last bit of mucus from her shirt.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Think about how special you are. How many people have ever had an elephant blow its nose on them?”

“It’s not funny.”

“Are you kidding me?” He stood up and gave her a hug. “It’s hilarious.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“It was also one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. How could an elephant even be in this park?”

“Don’t forget the bighorn sheep and whatever killed it too,” she said, tossing away the rag.

“This place is like the Island of Doctor Moreau.”

“Do they have nose-blowing elephants on his island too?”

“It’s filled with them,” he said with a smile. “The only explanation is that some of the animals escaped from the city zoo and made their way here.”

“The zoo?”

“You got a better idea?”

“No, but what does that mean? Should we turn around and go back?”

The answer wasn’t obvious to him either. They were nearly halfway through the park, and going back presented almost as much danger as going forward. While they didn’t know what lay ahead, they did know that something with very sharp teeth inhabited the trees behind them.

“Let’s push on to Canal Road and be rid of this place.”

“On one condition,” she said, holding up a finger. “No more elephants.”

“Fair enough. Next time we encounter a giant African elephant, I’ll be the one to make friends.”

With the decision made, they gathered their gear and continued down the trail. Having dispelled the notion of the forest being infested with dinosaurs made the hike a little less stressful—but only a little.

“There could be anything out here,” she said, staring off into the dark woods.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Most zoo animals would run away if they saw us coming.”

“Because you’re scarier than Bigfoot?”

“A fact that I am quite proud of,” he said, grinning. “Still, it’s probably a good idea to make a little noise to keep from walking up on something unannounced.”

“Can I whistle?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

Samantha began to whistle, and the tune was surprisingly rich and complex.

He looked over at her and nodded.

“Not bad.”

“Whistling is one of the few things I’m good at.”

“Sam, despite what you may think, you’re good at all kinds of things.”

“Like what?”

“How many kids your age can drive a car?”

“Not many, I guess.”

“Or shoot an apple off a man’s head?”

“I’ve never done that.”

“But you could.”

“Will you let me try?”

“No.”

She shrugged and went back to whistling. They hiked for another ten minutes without seeing anything more exotic than a few squirrels jumping between trees. The trail narrowed even further as it came to a dark tunnel cutting through a rocky hillside. The cavern was a good two hundred feet long, but they could see light shining in from the other end.

Samantha dug out her flashlight and shined it into the tunnel. The dark stone walls and floor glistened with moisture.

“Everything’s wet in there.”

Tanner gripped his shotgun. “I’ll take the lead. You shine the light on the ground about ten feet in front of me.”

“All right,” she said, lowering the beam and sweeping it across the ground.

Tanner started into the tunnel, and Samantha stayed close behind, leaning around to shine the flashlight. The air was damp, and they could hear water trickling through the walls. Their feet made a wet squishing sound as they padded across a light layer of mud covering the rocky floor.

“This is cool,” she said, her voice echoing down the tunnel.

“You’re not afraid?”

“Why should I be? It’s not like that big tunnel we walked through before. This one—”

They both stopped as something rustled ahead of them.

“You were saying?” he growled.

She scanned the walls and floor with the flashlight. They were both clear. It was only when she flicked the light across the ceiling that they spotted the source of the noise. Nesting in the wet rock were hundreds of small brown bats. A few shifted around to get out of the bright shine of her flashlight.

Tanner immediately started forward.

She grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

“What?”

“The bats!” she said, shining the light on them.

“And?”

“They might bite us.”

“Nah, bats are harmless. If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.”

Samantha was in no way convinced.

“What if they’re… you know, vampire bats?”

“They’re not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“No capes.”

Without waiting for the joke to set in, Tanner walked ahead, crunching small mounds of bat guano beneath his boots. When he got directly beneath the bats, he stopped and looked back at her.

“See. They’re harmless.”

Before Samantha could make up her mind one way or the other, a dark shape slid in through the cave’s entrance behind her. It was long and squat, with short legs and a thick tail.

“Sam, behind you!”

She spun around, whipping the flashlight in its direction. When she saw the shine of its wicked green eyes coming toward her, Samantha fumbled the flashlight, and it fell to the floor.

As she bent to reach for it, Tanner shouted, “Leave it!”

She turned and bolted toward him. It took Tanner only a moment to realize that they wouldn’t both make it all the way through the tunnel before the creature caught them. Samantha must have come to the same realization because as she approached him, she started to slow.

“Go! Go! Go!” he shouted, bringing his shotgun up.

She sprinted ahead, letting fear provide the necessary juice to her arms and legs.

The flashlight rolled to the closest wall and stopped, barely casting enough light for Tanner to see the creature skittering toward him. In some ways, the beast resembled a crocodile, short and thick with a long neck and tail. But with every step, it flared its legs out to the side so that it could drag the backs of its huge claws across the stone floor. Tanner wasn’t sure if it did it to keep from stumbling, or just to look scary as all hell.

He leveled the shotgun and fired.
Boom!
The blast was deafening in the narrow tunnel, and it sent hundreds of bats into the air. They fluttered against him with leathery wings and sharp barbs, clicking in fear. He squinted to protect his eyes as he dropped the shotgun back on target. Bats darted all around the dark tunnel, and he could make out only brief snippets of the creature racing toward him.

He fired again.
Boom!
The ear-shattering blast sparked more flapping and jabs from the frightened bats.

“Tanner!” shouted Samantha. “Should I come and help?”

“No!”

He didn’t dare turn to look at her. Bats were fluttering in every direction, and the creature had scuttled out of the light. Two shots fired, and he wasn’t sure that either had drawn blood. Tanner waited, working to quiet his heart as he swept the shotgun from side to side.

For ten long seconds, nothing happened. Had he hit it after all?

Without warning, the beast lunged from the darkness. Tanner started to backpedal, blindly firing the shotgun at the ground in front of him. It grabbed the edge of his boot and shook hard. He stumbled and nearly fell, desperately trying to kick it away. The sole of his boot started to pull free, and the creature lurched forward hoping to get something meatier to hang onto. Tanner shoved the shotgun toward it and fired one-handed. The gun bucked into the air, nearly striking the ceiling overhead.

The creature released his foot, and Tanner shuffled back a few more steps, his heart pounding. He swept the gun back and forth, straining to hear the scraping of the monster’s fearsome claws. It was then that he realized that the ringing in his ears was so bad that he wouldn’t have heard the beast even if it had tap danced up to him. He shook his head from side to side, hoping that it might help.

It didn’t.

The tunnel was dark, and he was damn near deaf. It was time for a tactical retreat. Tanner carefully slid four fresh shells into the shotgun and slowly backed the rest of the way out of the tunnel.

Samantha hurried over to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am if I still got all my fingers and toes,” he said, looking down warily at the hole in his boot. He handed her the shotgun. “Cover me for a second, will you?”

She slipped her own rifle over her shoulder and gripped the shotgun with both hands.

Tanner set his pack on the ground and dug around until he found a flashlight. He stepped to the edge of the tunnel and switched it on. The beam barely illuminated a dark shape lying on the floor about forty feet inside.

“What is that thing?” she asked.

“Some kind of crocodile, maybe.”

Samantha saw him contemplating his next move.

“Are you crazy? Leave it. It might not be dead.”

He considered her words. She was right, of course. But it did nothing to satisfy the curiosity gnawing at him.

“The gun,” he said, holding out his hand.

She handed the shotgun back to him.

“Okay, but if you die, I’m putting this on your headstone.”

“Oh really? What’s it gonna say?”

“It’ll read: Here lies Tanner Raines, killed because he was dumb enough to go back into a dark tunnel to fight a dinosaur.”

“That’s a big headstone.”

She squinted at him. “I’ll write small.”

He reached over and tousled her hair.

“Just cover me.”

Samantha slid the rifle off her shoulder and took aim at the dark shape. As Tanner started into the tunnel, he thought he heard her tell him to be careful, but when he looked back and nodded, she only made a face like she didn’t know why he had stopped. That, he thought, was classical Samantha.

Keeping the flashlight pressed tightly against the muzzle of the shotgun, he swept the light across the shape. The creature didn’t move. It was lizard-like in appearance, ten feet long and weighing a good one hundred and fifty pounds. The creature’s skin was thick and coarse, and it hung from its body like an oversized suit of chainmail. Its hands resembled that of a human’s except for the huge curved claws. A baseball-sized hole gaped on one side of the creature’s belly, and wet innards bulged out.

Tanner stepped a little closer and gingerly kicked it in the head. It didn’t move. It was either dead or one hell of a heavy sleeper. Brushing aside the bats, he walked deeper into the tunnel and retrieved Samantha’s flashlight. Then he stepped around to the back of the creature and lifted its heavy tail over his shoulder. Its skin felt cool—definitely a member of some cold-blooded family of animals. He slid the monster around and began dragging it out of the tunnel, like a fisherman bringing home his catch.

As soon as Samantha saw the beast, her eyes grew wide, and she stepped back, giving it a wide berth.

“It
was
a dinosaur,” she whispered.

Tanner dropped the tail, and it hit the ground with an indignant
clop
.

“Nope, but close. It’s a dragon.”

“A dragon?” She searched his face for any sign that he was pulling her leg.

“A Komodo dragon to be exact. One of the nastiest creatures on the planet.” He sat down on a nearby rock and pulled off his boot.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure he didn’t nick me. Their mouths are filled with bacteria, and I don’t want to wake up in the morning to find my foot oozing all manner of pus.”

BOOK: Battle Lines (The Survivalist Book 5)
12.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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