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out jungle with bombs when Nielsen could’ve just picked a natural clearing?”

“Maybe he wanted to chase away or kill any predators in that area,” said Peter.

“Why are you here, specifically?” Tracey asked Marcy. “What’s your specific job or objective?”

“To use the sensory equipment to map the island as we searched for Dr. Albanese and the others.”

“You mentioned seismic measurements in the back of the truck,” said Tracey. “Do you think that was part of the search for this metal?”

Marcy shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“What other use would a metal have to Poseidon Tech?” asked Tracey, thinking out loud.

*

Their speculation was interrupted by Collins, who called back over his shoulder, “We’ve found the Humvees.”

Peter, Tracey, and Marcy ran forward to catch up with Collins and Nielsen.

“Holy smokes,” gasped Marcy, taking in the scene before her.

“You can say that again,” added Tracey.

Peter winced. “Poor souls.”

The Humvees were torn apart. Pieces of jagged metal and parts lay strewn about the riverbank on the other side of the river. The tops of the vehicles looked as if they had been peeled open by a massive can opener.

“Look at all the blood,” whispered Marcy, her face turning green.

“I wonder where the chopper is,” said Collins. He got on his radio. “Chief to base. Come in, base.”

His radio crackled. ‘Copy that, Chief. You’ve been radio silent. What is your location?’

“It’s radio interference,” said Collins. “Heading back to base camp. We were attacked. The weapons team was wiped out. Have you seen our Huey?”

‘Negative. We’ve lost radio contact with the Bravo Huey. Alpha Huey is still in the air.”

“That’s the one guarding base camp,” said Collins to the others. “That means we’ve lost ours.”

“How the hell does a T. rex take down a Huey?” asked Nielsen.

“Maybe it wasn’t a T. rex,” said Peter.

“Are there predatory birds on this island?” asked Collins. “Pterodactyls or something?”

“I haven’t seen any,” said Peter. “Then again, I really haven’t ventured out this far before. The Umazoa like to stick to their territory, keeping a close proximity to their plateau village. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”

Instinctively, everyone’s eyes darted up to the sky.

“We need to keep moving,” said Collins. “Whatever took out the Huey could return.” He got on his radio, “Base, be advised there may be airborne bogies. Over and out.”

“Copy that, Chief. Over and out.”

They continued along the riverbank, unaware of the top of a spiny fan breaching the river surface a hundred feet behind them and disappearing quickly under the water.

Chapter 8

The afternoon gave way to evening, and the sun waned in the sky. Jason and Susan walked in comfortable silence as they tracked Mary and her reptilian captors, stopping only to drink from the river. Susan’s stomach growled, and it was audible. Jason jutted his left arm out, stopping Susan from walking further.

“What is it?” she whispered, looking around, hand rubbing her stomach.

Jason scanned the dirt. “They’ve slowed their pace.”

“Are they close by?”

Jason nodded. “They probably had to stop on account of Mary growing tired.”

“How do you know that?”

Jason pointed at the ground. “Her stride changed, and she’s now dragging her feet.”

Susan’s shoulders sagged. “I know I’m tired, and I’m freaking starving.”

Jason stepped away from the river. “The tracks veer off into the jungle.” He looked up at the sky. “We’ll wait till dark. The lizard men don’t normally come out after dark, so they should be off their game.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

Jason watched her rub her stomach. “We need to get some food in you, or your stomach’s grumbling will give away our position.” He pointed to some nearby trees. “Why don’t you find a long branch I can use as a spear? I’ll scout the area for some food.”

She nodded and stepped away to search for sturdy branches.

“Stay close,” said Jason. “Scream if you’re in trouble.” He looked around, checking for animal tracks, specifically for something edible. There weren’t any, and he preferred to stay out of the jungle, as he didn’t know exactly where the lizard men had stopped.

He walked back to the river’s edge and saw large fish swimming around. He watched them, darting about, feeding on things between the stones at the bottom.

Susan returned with a few straight branches. “How about these?”

Jason looked them over. “Let me see.” He reached out with his hands.

Susan handed them over. He hefted each, gaging its weight. After examining each, he selected one and dropped the remaining two on the ground. “This’ll do. This’ll do just fine.” He took out his knife and began whittling the tip to a sharp point. “There’re fish in the river. Big ones. Good eating.”

Susan looked over at the river. “You’re going to spear fish?”

He nodded, smiling. “I’ve done it before. When I was growing up in Alaska.”

“I didn’t know you grew up in Alaska. I figured you were from somewhere else.”

He stripped bark and then wood off the tip in smooth motions, steadying the branch under his armpit. “I lived there with my mother and brother.” His knife strokes became faster. “My little brother was killed by a pack of wolves.”

Susan gasped. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. That must’ve been awful.”

Jason grunted a little as he shaved off the final strips of wood. “I was left alone with my mother, who wasn’t exactly ‘Mother of the Year.’ I eventually tracked down the pack that killed my brother.”

Susan’s eyes widened. “Did you kill them?”

Jason re-sheathed his hunting knife and took the spear in his hand, holding the newly hewn tip up to his face for inspection. “Nah, they almost killed me. A local Native American hunter took me in, saved my life. He taught me how to hunt all different

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