Return To Primordial Island, Rick Poldark [top non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

“What is it?” whispered Tracey.

“I don’t know,” said Peter, breathless.

The vegetation all around them began to rustle and move. Large figures burst out into the clearing, surrounding Peter, Tracey, and Mary. The Simians surrounded them.

Peter took a deep breath, but his muscles remained tense. “They followed us.”

“Why?” asked Mary, suspicious.

The Simians clutched spears, but they didn’t point them at the humans. They waited, watching the party with uncannily human-like eyes and faces. The Simian King burst forth, bounding on his legs and arms, stopping short in front of the three humans.

Peter did his best not to flinch. He stood his ground as Tracey and Mary shrunk behind him. He didn’t want to show fear, for in the jungle fear could be interpreted as weakness. This wasn’t like when he awakened the Zehhaki, and he was in possession of the orb. He would not be viewed as a deity by the Simians.

The Simian King pounded his chest once with his right fist. Peter, taking a chance, did the same.

“What are you doing?” Tracey muttered, mortified by the gesture.

“I don’t know,” said Peter. It was the truth.

The Simian King grunted at them, trying to communicate. He gesticulated at the jungle all around them, and then he addressed the other Simians. Three massive males stepped forward right on cue. They each snatched up Peter, Tracey, and Mary and swung them onto their backs.

Peter’s Simian mount grunted and it bounded back into the jungle. Peter clutched him tightly around the neck just in time to hang on. The Simian leapt, and they were suddenly airborne, swinging from branch to branch with such speed and grace it took Peter’s breath away.

He closed his eyes as his stomach lurched. He was never one for amusement rides, and this was much worse. There were no seat belts or safety bars to keep him from plummeting to his death. In time, he opened his eyes and instantly regretted it. They were way up into the canopy. He looked down below, through breaks in the tree branches and leaves and saw a pack of tyrannosaurs roaming around beneath them. It was at that moment Peter realized they were being escorted safely through the jungle, carefully following the river back north as Peter, Tracey, and Mary had been observed doing.

Peter caught a flash of something in his peripheral vision. A blur flew right by him and collided with one of the Simians to his right. The ape cried out, losing its grip on its branch, nearly falling. Another blur zoomed past Peter, and he turned his head to see the wide wingspan and pointy head of a pterodactyl descending on him through a gap in the trees.

He braced himself, clinging to his Simian’s neck, but he felt claws grip his torso. He was suddenly lifted from his Simian as it swung away, disappearing into the trees. Peter called out for help, but the flapping of a twelve-foot wingspan yanked him upward, taking his breath away.

He felt a large hand wrap around his ankle, yanking him out of the pterodactyl’s grip, and another Simian slung him onto its back. It swung away posthaste as the winged predator pursued. Peter heard the shouts and cries of Tracey and Mary as he saw other pterodactyls descend upon them, attempting to snatch them away.

Other Simians punched and swatted at the airborne attackers, roaring in fury. The canopy erupted in a feeding frenzy, and Peter hung on for dear life. His Simian made an abrupt turn to evade a winged attacker, and Peter lost his grip. He slid off its back, falling through the canopy. In his freefall he saw a pterodactyl diving right for him. Another Simian reached out and snatched him from its beak as it snapped closed, just missing him. The winged reptile collided with a tree trunk, but Peter didn’t get the chance to see what happened to it as he was immediately whisked away. The Simians threw him around like a ragdoll, passing him back and forth, keeping him out of harm’s way as they contended with the winged scourge.

After a few minutes, the Simians had put enough distance between them and the pterodactyls, and the canopy was once again safe for passage. While making stops on long tree branches up high, Peter caught glimpses of the other Simians. He saw Tracey for a brief moment, and then Mary. He was thankful they were safe. They spent the rest of the day swinging through the trees until Peter’s Simian stopped at the edge of a clearing. It grunted at him.

Peter hoisted himself up on its shoulders and had a look. Tracey and Mary each landed on a nearby tree on the back of their escorts.

“It’s base camp,” said Tracey. “The Simians took us back.”

“It looks deserted,” said Mary.

It was true. Peter didn’t see any sign of activity. The tents remained upright and intact, and the land vehicles appeared unharmed, but there wasn’t a soul to be found.

“The helicopter is gone,” said Tracey, crestfallen.

“They left us,” said Mary, bitter.

“We don’t know that,” said Peter. He noticed the Simians waited, listening to their discussion, though he doubted they comprehended it. Peter held a hand out in front of his escort’s face and pointed his finger down to the ground.

With a jolt that nearly sent Peter flying off its back, the Simian swung down, descending the tree, finally landing on the ground. Peter barely hung on for dear life. Tracey and Mary landed next to him on their Simians.

They each slid off their escort’s back. Peter was relieved to have his feet planted on terra firma. He stepped forward, his eyes searching the camp.

A diminutive figure stepped out of the main tent, looking around. It appeared to be one of the Umazoa. Peter squinted, trying to determine who it was. “It’s Hiu!”