Jurassic War

Fourteen

Peterson’s unit made slow progress through the dense foliage. He glanced ahead for the enemy, while keeping an eye on both flanks, and occasionally scanning the trees for snipers. Moving at a snail’s pace, he considered whether his marines made easy targets.

They had long since trudged past any sand on the path. Only the muddy jungle floor lay beneath their boots. Mud and gunk caked on the soles of the hiking boots that Carson had chosen for the unit. He dispensed with the military issue boots immediately, then tried out numerous options until he found some that met his objectives.

Carson had the men strap on the new boots and wade into a stream near the training camp at Jacques Farm in California. Once the boots were saturated, he had the young marines go for a short hike, breaking in the leather. Hikes were a favorite training exercise of the unconventional leader. Trekking for thirty-five miles on a day hike, and seventy-five miles on an overnight sojourn, he required them to wear full battle gear and maintain a 7-mile per hour pace.

Now, the slow movement seemed almost a standstill. But the lieutenant didn’t want to take any chances. Eventually, signs of a trail dissipated altogether, and they ventured through the jungle terrain by marking a course northward, using a compass and the position of the sliver of moon that had broken through the storm clouds.

Tomko held his submachine gun tightly in his hands, never letting down his guard, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. He forged his way up a slight berm, crested the top, then made a rapid descent, disappearing from view. Following the stout marine, other Raiders did the same, then Peterson scaled the incline and stared down at a fire team, moving across an open area.

He followed them. And the rest of the unit piled down after him.

A slight ridge surrounded them, circular. Peterson didn’t like the situation and felt vulnerable, so he called out: “Let’s pick up the pace.”

“Seems like an old bomb crater,” said Private Davidson.

“Yeah, but I don’t think anyone has attacked this island.” Peterson shook his head.

“Could have been a practice run,” Private Baker called out from the rear.

“Maybe.”

Peterson’s comment put an end to the discussion. He glanced at the fine earth beneath his feet and an unsettling feeling crept over him. The ground had a similar aspect to the nests that sunfish make in the bottom of a freshwater lake.

Those things could be nesting here, he thought. But it seemed too large.

Ascending the incline, they left the crater and headed back down into dense jungle. Tomko headed along the pathway, where trees were snapped, and ferns trampled. Something big had treaded through the foliage, tearing it up like a cyclone.

“What tore through here?” Davidson was still full of questions.

“Quiet,” Peterson snapped under his breath.

“Geez—”

Davidson’s comment cut off suddenly. The unmistakable sound of boots smacking the ground, coming to an abrupt halt, caught Peterson’s attention. Checking over his shoulder, he spotted Private Hall, standing at the end of the column with his jaw dropped open, staring wide-eyed into the jungle on the right. “Move it, Hall.”

But the marine remained frozen.

Peterson followed his gaze. Up high. Treetops.

Yellow eyes blinked. Large spheres.

The orbs peered through the leafy top of a coconut tree, about twenty feet above them. And the eyes were set about a foot and a half apart.

Maybe something had climbed the tree, he hoped. But the thought dissipated in a moment. Peterson noted the distance between the eyes, and he’d gaged the size of them. He traced the outline of the creature’s back, from the tree top all the way to the jungle floor. He registered the extent of the threat. The yellow eyes blinked.

A Tyrannosaurus Rex lurked in the shadows.

“Run!”

Tomko broke into the jungle and Chandler followed him. Peterson led the next fire team through a maze of trees, ducking under thick limbs, and trying to put obstacles in the path of the mighty beast. Another fire team broke, fanning the rifle squad in various directions.

A tremor resounded over the ground, shaking the earth beneath them.

Peterson glanced back as the dinosaur stepped from its protective covering. Its lips pulled back, revealing massive, sharp teeth. The creature let out a roar, then stalked towards its prey.

The ground shook and thundered with each colossal step. It began to run.