Outlanders - Tomb of Time Part 18

"I don't know," Brigid said. "Maybe the dilator reached a point of critical ma.s.s and Sindri was able to contain it before it touched off the warhead. I don't know whether to be relieved or worried."

Grant pushed himself to his feet, pulling s.h.i.+zuka with him. "For right now, let's be relieved. It's still at least a forty-minute walk to the beach. Sindri will do whatever he can to stop us from reaching it."

s.h.i.+zuka threw him a startled look and gestured to the complex with a katana. "Surely you don't think he survived all of that!"

Flatly, Kane declared, "He had as much time to escape as we did. Don't a.s.sume anything about that little man-particularly that he's dead."

s.h.i.+zuka gazed at him steadily, then flicked her gaze to Brigid. "You respect him, don't you?" Her voice carried a note of incredulous challenge.

Neither Kane nor Brigid responded to the query, but Grant intoned, "I don't."

They walked toward the jungle as the sun dropped lower in the sky. Twilight deepened over the island.

This close to the dead zone, the fronds of the palm trees and leaves of shrubbery were stained and spotted with livid streaks of yellow. The sweet, fetid stench of decay was so thick it was almost sickening. Breathing through their mouths didn't help much, since the air tasted like a compost heap.

Only Grant didn't appear discomfited by the odor.They strode among the close-set palm trunks, draped with loops and curves of flowering lianas hung down like nooses. Kane's point man's sense felt danger, and the feeling increased so it was almost tangible. On every hand, wherever they looked, there were growing plants, most of them ferns. The size ranged from tiny seedlings to monstrous growths the size of oak trees. Tangles of creeper vines carpeted the jungle floor. The atmosphere was like that within a greenhouse-impregnated with the overwhelming odor of vegetation and nearly impenetrable with water vapor.

Grant's, Kane's and Brigid's bodysuits kept them cool, as the internal thermostats adjusted to the heat and humidity. s.h.i.+zuka suffered in silence, her face and limbs sheened with perspiration, her hair hanging limp and damp.

They stopped for a moment to rest and get their bearings. They couldn't hear the crash of breakers on the sh.o.r.eline, but the gurgling of running water, either a river or a stream came to them faintly. Another sound reached their ears, a grunting, snuffling noise. The four people froze in place, rooted to the spot.

The foliage shook, the leaves rattling. Behind a tangled screen of greenery they glimpsed a s.h.a.ggy, lumbering beast. "What the h.e.l.l-" Grant began, but s.h.i.+zuka shushed him into silence.

The creature suddenly reared up, standing at least ten feet tall. The black, curving claws of the fore-paws were at least three inches long, as were the yellow, saliva-slick canines revealed by black-rimmed lips. Its s.h.a.ggy coat was a dark brown in color, tipped in silver.

"It's a bear," s.h.i.+zuka breathed in disbelief. "A bear on an island in the Pacific?"

"It's a cave bear," Brigid whispered. "Extinct for at least fifty thousand years. It must have been trawled here and released-"

The bear sniffed the air, blinked its tiny eyes at them in utter disinterest and dropped back down behind the wall of shrubs. The four people waited, not daring to relax, to move, speak or even breathe hard.

After a minute, Kane said lowly, "I think it moved on."

With an explosion of leaves and twigs, the bear burst through the wall of foliage, giving voice to a prolonged, eardrum-compressing roar. Grant and Kane instantly snapped their right arms up, flexing their wrist tendons against the holsters' actuators to pop the Sin Eaters into their waiting hands. Nothing happened.

With a jolt of fear, Kane realized the microwave pulse might not have damaged him organically, but it had fried the tiny electric motor that activated the spring and cable mechanisms in the holsters. He came to an immediate and, on the face of it, insane decision. Hefting the tanto sword, he lunged in front of his companions, shouting, "Hah!"

The cave bear changed course, its claws tearing up clots of soft ground. Kane held steady. "What are you doing?" Brigid cried.

"Run!" Kane yelled. He sprang to one side just before the animal was on him and slashed a backhanded stroke at its hind legs that missed narrowly.

Roaring in maddened fury, the bear dug in all four paws and skidded to a clumsy halt, loose leaves and loam cresting up in front of like a wave. Kane bounded away from his companions, shouting again,"Run! I'm the fastest! I'll draw it away and meet you on the beach!"

"Kane, you G.o.dd.a.m.n-" Grant bellowed.

The rest of the diatribe didn't reach Kane's ears as he sprinted into the jungle. Snarling s...o...b..ringly, the bear pounded after him. He began a flat-out run through the tangled green h.e.l.l, ducking and dodging along paths that zigged and zagged like the trail left by a broken-backed snake. He could hear the animal's cras.h.i.+ng progress through the undergrowth and its panting grunts of exertion.

He hazarded only one quick backward glance. The bear was only three or so yards behind him, loping along with a clumsy rocking gait, but not faltering at all. Foam flew from its open mouth, its red tongue lolling out between the fanged jaws.

Kane did what he could to increase his speed, slas.h.i.+ng through overhanging branches and vines. The skin between his shoulder blades itched in antic.i.p.ation of a taloned paw tearing into his spine. He splashed through many shallow pools of stagnant water and jumped over a narrow channel that cut across his path. As he did so, he glimpsed the black water beneath him roil and bubble ominously, as if something large moved off the bottom toward the surface. However, the cave bear plowed through it without being molested.

The pain of a st.i.tch stabbed along Kane's left side, the muscles of his legs felt as if they were pressed between the jaws of a tightening vise and his vision fogged. Nevertheless he kept running, even though the blood thundered in his ears and his lungs noisily labored to suck in oxygen. He began to hope he had outdistanced his pursuer. With its greater weight, it couldn't really have the same stamina as him. As he contemplated slowing, the ground disappeared beneath his feet. He caught only a glimpse of the surface of a wide ribbon of water.

The drop to the river was ten to twelve feet. He tried to align his body into a vertical position so he would enter the river in a dive. Instead, he half belly flopped against the surface, and it was all he could do to keep the air in his lungs. Water gushed up his nose and filled his sinus pa.s.sages, trickling into his throat.

Resisting the impulse to stroke for the surface, Kane allowed the weight of his Sin Eater and short sword to keep him submerged and out of sight of the bear. The current tugged at him and he kicked and pushed with it, since it was carrying him in the direction he wanted to go, toward the ocean. During his Magistrate training, he used to practice holding his breath under water, and rarely had he managed to exceed four minutes, even when he hyperventilated after the fas.h.i.+on of Polynesian pearl divers. Though he wasn't exerting himself and expending oxygen, his lungs were already aching with the strain.

He opened his eyes and saw a school of small fish all around him, the silvery moonlight glinting from their delicate scales. He hoped they weren't carniv- orous. The water buffeted him, making him lose all sense of direction and time.

Kane stayed beneath the surface until the thundering of blood in his temples and the fire in his chest became intolerable. He kicked upward, a little surprised by how much effort it required. His head broke the surface and he fought the impulse to cough and gasp.

The current carried him around a bend, where the waterway narrowed. Tree limbs, like gnarled fingers, reached down toward the river from both banks. Blinking the water from his eyes, Kane tilted his headup and back, scanning the pale indigo sky. He saw nothing but the rising moon and a scattering of stars above the tree line.

Kane knew better than to put the double-edged tanto blade between his teeth. The current was so strong it could slam him against an obstacle and cut half of his head off. With one arm, he stroked for the right-hand bank, reaching up to grasp a low-hanging limb. Using the branch and roots as hand-and footholds, Kane clambered his way up the muddy bank until he reached the top.

He sat down to catch his breath. After a couple of minutes, he got up and walked inland, tanto in hand, moving quietly through the brush. The Sin Eater in its holster was a waterlogged enc.u.mbrance, and he contemplated removing the pistol from it but he knew it would take time. The sound of a some- thing-or someone-moving swiftly, if not noiselessly, through the foliage reached him and he immediately sank to his knees beneath a leafy bush. He tried to penetrate the dark, overgrown tangle with his eyes, searching for any movement. Leaves crunched somewhere on the other side of the bush.

Holding his breath, he waited for another sound. It came in the next few seconds, a hoa.r.s.e, liquidy panting interspersed with grunts.

Although he couldn't see it, Kane knew it was the cave bear, stalking along the riverbank, loath to give up its prey.

He saw the s.h.a.ggy beast lumber to within ten feet of him, turning its huge head to and fro like a foxhound casting for a scent It padded forward another few steps. Kane lay flat and could only hope his recent dousing had muted his scent.

The cave bear moved on, the shadows between the tree ferns swallowing up its monstrous bulk. Kane waited three minutes to be sure then slowly rose in a crouch. He was turning when the foliage behind him rustled violently. The bear surged over the ground in a juggernaut-like charge. Its lips were drawn back from its fangs in a contortion of rage, its eyes glistening. Kane threw himself backward, but die animal lashed with a paw die size of his head. Even as a thick-soled paw slammed into his left shoulder, his blade lashed out and he felt it sink briefly into yielding flesh.

i The impact of the blow jarred through the bones of his upper body, down to the small of his back. He didn't try to resist the kinetic force or keep his footing. He allowed himself to fall into the brash, reflexively slapping the ground to absorb the momentum and minimize the chances of having the wind knocked out of him. Shoulder throbbing, he rolled and got to his knees, knife still in his fist. The tapered tip gleamed with wet crimson.

The cave bear thrashed on the ground, blood shooting from his severed neck arteries in a jet. It was in too much pain to even think of charging Kane again. It forced itself up on all fours and ran blindly until it rammed its head into the bole of a tree. It collapsed there, snarling until it choked on its blood and died.

Slowly, Kane rose, his back throbbing with intense pain. His slash with the tanto had been exceptionally lucky and wouldn't have been so effective if the blade were not so sharp. He inhaled a deep breath, wondering if he should feel pride in his accomplishment or pity for the bear, which had not asked to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from its native environment and forced to survive in a strange new world.

After a moment, Kane decided a little pride wouldn't hurt. Then he heard an ululating, croaking bellowfrom right behind him.

Chapter 21.

A trumpetlike cry pierced the murk, followed by a deep-throated bawling. All of it was overlaid by the crack of branches and the hollow snaps of green timber. The dull reverberations of a heavy weight slamming repeatedly against the marshy earth made a racket that sent a s.h.i.+ver up Kane's spine, despite the heat and humidity. He dived into a hollow between intertwining ferns and lay there, fisting the tanto and cursing himself for not using it to cut the Sin Eater free of its holster.

Vegetation swished and crashed from somewhere behind him, and the ground shook incessantly. A dark shape loomed out of the gloom, propelled by a pair of ma.s.sively muscled rear legs. The clawed forelegs were small in proportion to the rest of its body, but the curving, steel-hard talons tipping each of the three fingers were at least six inches long. They were drawn up to its chest almost in an att.i.tude of praying. Grinning jaws bared rows of glistening yellow fangs. The saurian snout bore a pair of flared nostrils that seemed to dilate and twitch. The head, twice the size of that of a horse, turned this way and that upon an extended scaled neck.

Huge cold eyes like those of a serpent's a hundred times magnified stared unwinkingly from beneath a pair of scaled k.n.o.bby protuberances. Two huge legs, almost as big around as some of the palm trees he'd seen, supported the ma.s.sive, barrel-shaped body. They were enormously overdeveloped. A long tail trailed from behind, disappearing into the undergrowth. It apparently used its thick tail to balance itself. Its damp hide bore a pebblelike pattern of dark brown scales.

The revolting odor of rotted meat and the sour stench of reptiles clogged Kane's nostrils. So great was the monster's weight that its huge, three-toed feet sank deep into the damp ground with each hopping step.

Despite its size, the most frightening aspect of the creature was its fangs. They gleamed in the blunt, scale-armored maw that gaped wide to allow a long black tongue to dart to and fro. Kane guessed that like a snake, its tongue was extremely sensitive, and it tasted the coppery tang of the bear's blood. Kane didn't know if the thing was a medium-sized Tyran-nosaur or an overly large Dryosaurus, and at the moment he didn't give a d.a.m.n. He a.s.sumed it was the same monster that had bitten off the head of the hapless Magistrate. The dinosaur bounded past him, then stopped abruptly, standing spraddle-legged over the dead cave bear. Its tongue continued to flicker in and out of its mouth as if it were tasting the air.

Then, it opened its jaws and voiced a roar that combined the worst aspects of a siren, steam valve and the howl of a dying dog. The ma.s.sive creature spun toward Kane's hiding place. Its tail lashed back and forth, shredding shrubbery and ferns. As it lowered its head, the flaring nostrils dilated. His blood running like ice water, Kane realized the creature had scented him, and it either perceived him as a threat to its meal of dead bear, or it preferred human meat to ursine. The monster rushed him.

Kane sprang to his feet and ran as he had never run before, starting to dash to the left, then wheeling over to the right, lunging into a bed of ferns. The dinosaur clumsily turned and wallowed confusedly in the copse of vegetation for a moment. Kane guessed it was unaccustomed to having quarry evade it by the process of strategy. The monster appeared to be slow in getting itself organized.

Lungs straining with the effort of breathing in the thick, humid air, Kane warred with the fear thatthreatened to engulf him. Complete panic gnawed at his nerves. He had an ahnost overwhehning desire to surrender sanity and plunge shrieking madly through the jungle.

The ground trembled underfoot as the Tyran-nosaur changed course and pounded after him.

Through the mist, Kane glimpsed a branch of a tree fern arching over the path he had taken. His steel-spring legs propelled him upward in an adrenaline-fueled leap. The fingers of his left hand grasped, closed around it and with a back-wrenching twist got himself atop it.

He had only a second to wonder if the monster had seen the maneuver when it came blundering through the murky mist like an out-of-control locomotive. He realized the dinosaur wasn't as large as he had initially thought, maybe twenty-five feet long and between twelve and fifteen feet tall.

Still, it weighed in the vicinity of three tons, if not more, and it crashed into the trunk of the tree fern with a splintering impact. Kane slapped his hand around the branch, but because of the damp, smooth surface, he failed to cling and he fell from his perch. The Tyrannosaur was directly beneath him, and he landed astride the monster's neck.

More frightened than at any time in his life, feeling as if he were trapped in a hideous, ongoing nightmare, Kane clamped his legs about the creature's throat, wrapping his arms under its lower jaw and locking his ankles together.

The Tyrannosaur was bewildered, astounded and even a little outraged. It shook its head furiously from side to side in an attempt to dislodge its rider, but Kane clung tightly to keep from being hurled off. He knew if that happened, his life could be mea- sured in seconds. A sweep of a clawed foot would disembowel him or a snap of the jaws would decapitate him.

The gigantic reptile attempted to rub him off by bending almost double and sc.r.a.ping its head against the turf, then against the trunks of the tree ferns. Even though the jungle growths had fairly smooth bark, his skin felt abraded despite the fabric of the bodysuit. Kane gritted his teeth against the pain and kept his legs locked at the hinges of the monster's jaws.

The creature spun in a tight circle, twisting its head around to snap at him, performing a little spinning dervish dance like a dog chasing its tail. Its clawed feet tore up huge chunks of jungle floor.

Then, in a wild panic, the scaled monster went charging through the jungle, hissing, bawling and roaring.

As the monster's fear grew, Kane's receded just enough so he could think tactically, if not necessarily rationally. He realized that though the gargantuan reptile's body was sheathed in powerful muscle, armored in a coat of thick scales, the flesh under its jaw was comparatively tender. It wasn't covered by the scales.

Taking a deep breath, Kane clamped his thighs tighter around the monster's gullet and removed his right hand from where it had gripped his left wrist. He drove the eighteen-inch steel blade of the tanto to half its length into the dinosaur's throat, as close to the jaw hinge as he could manage.

The Tyrannosaur screamed and exploded in a wheeling, writhing fury, tail thras.h.i.+ng like a whip through the undergrowth. Kane tightened his legs around the monster's neck while he stabbed again and again with his long blade.Hot, thick blood spilled over his hand and wrist, soaking his sleeve halfway to the elbow. The Tyrannosaur crashed through the jungle, battering its head blindly against trees. Kane was shaken and struck and leaf whipped, but he continued thrusting with the razor-keen sword.

He caught a glimpse of a long branch drooping in the Tyrannosaur's path as the dinosaur bounded beneath it. The blunt head cleared it by less than a foot. Kane released his tanto and relaxed his scissors-lock around the reptile's neck. In the same instant he threw his arms up and caught hold of the limb. t The limb sagged beneath his weight, but the dinosaur continued its thundering charge, its sluggish brain not immediately registering the fact that the presence of the prey turned tormentor was gone. By the time it did, Kane had dropped to the jungle floor, retrieved his knife and glided into the undergrowth.

He knelt down, breathing heavily, his heart pumping hard. He tried to repress his trembling. He bit his lips and clutched the handle of the tanto. After a few minutes, when the crash and thud of the Ty-rannosaur's mad flight had receded in the distance, he slowly got to his feet. His limbs still shook with a tremor, but he wasn't ashamed. He couldn't think of any reason to be, not after the past half hour.

IF BRIGID, GRANT and s.h.i.+zuka had spent a more uncomfortable hour in their lives, they couldn't easily recall it. Blood-curdling screams echoed from one end of the island to the other.

They could hear vast bodies slogging and cras.h.i.+ng through the dense vegetation, some moving with great hops, others lumbering on all fours. Finding a place in the jungle to hole up and rest was completely out of the question. The three people waited in expectation of sudden death at any moment.

A heavy rain began to fall, a tropical downpour that lasted only a few minutes. But it was sufficient to raise the humidity level and create clouds of fog. Water dripped from the low branches. Damp-feathered birds sat hunched in the trees making sad clucking sounds. They sounded as though they all suffered head colds. .

At one point, they came across a four-legged lizard sitting in the middle of their path, eating at the carca.s.s of some small dead creature. It hissed at them, and they gave it a wide berth. None of the three spoke much. Brigid's and Grant's thoughts were with Kane and what he might be going through. Even when they heard the rhythmic boom of the surf, they didn't smile with relief.

They came out of the wall of palm trees and labyrinth of underbrush onto a rocky beach. They also saw, moored to one of the tree trunks, a twelve-foot-long landing boat from New Edo. Grant quickly inspected it, making sure it still had its oars. Its keel looked intact.

s.h.i.+zuka went to his side. "How long do we wait for Kane?"

Brigid answered for him. "For as long as it takes."

s.h.i.+zuka glanced at her a bit reproachfully. "I was not implying otherwise. I was about to suggest we wait until daybreak. If he's not back by then, we make our way to New Edo and return with a much larger and better armed party."Grant knuckled his chin thoughtfully, then he stiffened, eyes narrowed as they fixed on the jungle perimeter. Brigid and s.h.i.+zuka followed his intense stare. "What?" s.h.i.+zuka asked in a tense whisper.

"What did you see?"

"I'm not sure. I thought I saw something moving." Grant stepped slowly forward, feet crunching on the gravel. He stopped and listened. He didn't hear a sound, and he searched the dark s.p.a.ces between the trees with his eyes and saw nothing.

Then Sherrinford Oakshott stepped out of the shadows. His baby mouth glistened with saliva. He stood quite still and looked impa.s.sively at Grant. His huge shoulders hunched, and he raised an arm. He gripped a double-bladed hatchet in his enormous balled fist.

"s.h.i.+t," Grant said softly.

s.h.i.+zuka tossed him the katana she had retrieved. Grant s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of the air and lunged forward, driving the curved point of the blade at Oakshott's chest. The giant slapped the blade contemptuously aside.

Oakshott, in a surprisingly swift movement, swept a leg into Grant's ankles. Taken completely off guard, Grant couldn't jump away. He was bowled over and cracked the back of his head sharply on the rocky sh.o.r.eline. Multicolored pinwheels spun behind bis eyes and he clung to consciousness, groping for the katana. He thought he heard s.h.i.+zuka scream his name.

"Stay back!" he shouted. Abandoning the sword, he managed to get to his feet just as Oakshott closed with him, trying to bury the blade of his hand ax in the crown of Grant's head. The former Mag hit him with all the strength he could muster, the heel of one hand under the giant's chin. It was like punching a granite statue. Oakshott swiped overhand blows with the hatchet at Grant's head, trying to split his skull.

He deflected two of the blows, feinted with his right fist and smashed his left into Oakshott's face. Pain seared up Grant's knuckles into his wrist, as bone crunched beneath his fist. He sidled away. Oakshott remained standing, blinking a bit in mild bemus.e.m.e.nt, ignoring the blood trickling from the two-inch cut on his cheek. He dropped the hatchet at his feet as if he had forgotten it.

Oakshott didn't move for a long moment. Grant prayed he was suffering from a delayed reaction to his blow and would simply drop over unconscious. It didn't happen. His head twitched from side to side, his little eyes searching for his weapon.

Grant jumped for the fallen hatchet, but the giant moved to cut him off. He dodged aside and eluded the great grasping arms. As Oakshott came after him, Grant rammed the crown of his head into the man's face.

Oakshott stumbled and tottered but kept his feet. He blew scarlet bubbles from his split lips. He grinned, exposing red-filmed teeth. "You behave, sirrah."

"Where's your keeper?" Grant asked him, letting a taunting smile play lazily on his face. "He send you out here or did you take the initiative?"

Oakshott acted as if he hadn't heard. He bent and picked up the ax and spun it skillfully around by thehandle, the double-bladed head dancing like a cobra preparing to strike. His familiarity with the weapon was apparent.

Grant watched his opponent as they circled on the beach. He darted forward, feinting to the left. As Oakshott swung the hatchet, Grant dived under the edged steel, plucked up the sword and lashed out with it one smooth motion. The blade razored along his stomach, slicing through his coat and s.h.i.+rt and opening a long, shallow cut. Oakshott gazed down at the wound with dispa.s.sionate eyes.

Grant closed with him, not bothering with the feint, trying for contact with the katana. Oakshott blocked with his hatchet, and steel rang on steel. He was strong enough to stop Grant's knife, then brought the ax down in a sideways slash.

Once again surprised by the giant's speed, Grant narrowly avoided the blow. The hand ax whistled through the air, missing Grant's shoulder by a fractional margin. The hyge man came at him at once, exploding into motion. Giving ground before the charge, Grant kept the katana flas.h.i.+ng, meeting a half-dozen attacks in a row, sparks skidding in all directions as he met a dozen more.

He listened to Oakshott's breathing, hoping with all the weight he carried he would get winded quickly.

He wasn't sure if it made any difference. A man who could cough up a 9 mm hollowpoint slug in his lungs and recover from hydrostatic shock inside of a couple of minutes wasn't likely to tire easily.

Grant launched a front stab-kick that caught Oakshott in the chest. Oakshott staggered backward, then set his feet and charged again, holding the ax high.

Staying loose, bouncing on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, his breath ragged in his own ears, Grant danced with death. Glittering steel edges slashed by his face, missing by scant millimeters, turned or parried by Grant's weapon or his forearms. Perspiration beaded his forehead. Oakshott brought the hatchet down in a vicious overhand blow, aiming at Grant's upturned face. Grant sidestepped, using all of his Mag skills and experience to avoid the giant's rush.

Grant leaned in, closing his fist around the ax's haft. He slipped his forearm in front of Oakshott's wrist, blocking the blow with bone-jarring contact, hoping to knock the weapon free. But Oakshott's grip held.

Concentrating on his moves, keeping the weapon locked down, Grant brought a knee up and slammed Oakshott in the groin.

The kick knocked Oakshott backward, but he managed to lift the hand ax. Grant dived in again, driving his opponent back with sword slashes and thrusts. Oakshott managed to avoid mem.

Grant lashed out again, turning the huge man's hatchet away, but was not able to beat through Oakshott's defenses. He landed three kicks against the bigger man's side and stomach, but before he could disengage, Oakshott's ax sliced a thin, shallow furrow along his right temple. Grant felt the flow of blood running down his neck.