Alex Scarrow - Day of the Predator

Whitmore’s eyes rounded. ‘She’s gonna jump it?’

She bounded up the side of the hump and launched herself out across the river. Subconsciously everyone gasped and rose on their tiptoes as she gracefully sailed a dozen yards out over the water, her arms pinwheeling to give her extra momentum. Then she arced down into the water, disappearing beneath the stampeding white horses of the river.

For a long half a minute Liam couldn’t see her anywhere, then, finally, he spotted a dark head bobbing among the churning swirls of suds, gone again, back again, then as the river rode over a bed of large boulders and became a chicane of lethal-looking rapids, it curved round and she was lost from sight.

‘She gonna make it?’ asked Juan.

Liam nodded. ‘I’d put money on it.’

Whitmore nodded with admiration. ‘What I wouldn’t give to have her on my school’s athletics team. We’d win every cup going.’

They waited an interminable ten minutes before they spotted her again, jogging up the riverbank on the far side. She reached their jury-rigged bridge, carefully untied the counterweight of bundled logs and then, taking on the weight of the main trunk, muscles in her arms bulging from the effort, she slowly lowered it, the vine ropes creaking and groaning under the strain.

Above the busy rumble of the river, they heard the crack of one of the vines snapping.

‘It’s gonna go!’ shouted Liam.

It looked like Becks had heard that too. She began to pay out the rope more quickly. But another vine snapped under the increased burden, twanging up to the overhanging branch like a rubber band.

‘Stand back!’ barked Liam to the others. ‘It’s gonna drop!’

And it did. The other vines snapped in quick succession and the tree trunk swung down from its forty-five degree angle and clattered heavily on the boulders on their side. Everyone heard the crack, loud as a gunshot. Halfway along the trunk, jagged splinters of wood protruded from the side, and their bridge sagged down in the middle almost into the water.

‘Oh, great!’ shouted Laura.

‘Lemmesee… it may be OK,’ said Juan. Before anyone could stop him he’d stepped up on to the boulders and then carefully on to the end of the log. He inched his way a few yards along it. It bowed a little further, now dipping into the water itself midway along, but it seemed to be holding.

Juan dropped to his hands and knees, then straddled it, bum-shuffling his way across. At the midway point, he gingerly eased his way over the jagged fracture, water catching his dangling legs and threatening to pull him off. But he got over, and a minute later jumped off on the far side.

Liam nodded. ‘All right, then. It seems like it’ll hold for us. Let’s go.’

Whitmore ushered Edward to cross first, then had Laura, Akira and Jasmine line up to go next. Meanwhile Liam turned round. ‘Have your spears ready.’ He nodded at the dark jungle behind Howard and Whitmore. ‘They may still be out there.’

Waiting until it’s just the one of us left? Then what?

He didn’t care to think about that.

Whitmore went after Jasmine, panting with exertion and fear as he inched his way across, the fractured trunk wobbling and creaking with each movement he made. Finally, he made it to the far side and beckoned for whoever was coming next.

‘Leonard, you go.’

The dark-haired boy eyed Liam. ‘You sure?’

‘Uh-huh,’ replied Liam, his eyes remaining on the dark jungle. ‘Just be quick, will you?’ he added, flashing him a quick nervous smile.

Howard nodded, and then was on the trunk and shuffling. Liam waited until the student was nearly halfway across before taking one wary step on to the end of the log. He could feel the vibration of Howard’s movements.

If they’re gonna come for me… it’s gonna be right now.

Then as if on cue he thought he saw movement, some dark shape leaping through the undergrowth, moving from one hiding place to the next. Getting closer, but not quite ready to commit to leaping out into the open.

‘What is it?’ he grunted under his breath. ‘You scared of me? Is that it?’

That sounded good to him, fighting talk. For a fleeting moment there he almost didn’t feel completely terrified. But that soon passed as his eyes assured him something else had just shifted position one tree closer to him.

He finally felt the trunk under his foot wobble as Leonard presumably jumped off at the far side. He heard Whitmore’s voice over the din of tumbling water calling him over.

‘Coming!’ Liam shouted over his shoulder. Keeping his eyes on the jungle, he reversed on to the log, still not daring to turn his back on what he knew was in there and waiting for him to do just that.

Pull yourself together, Liam.

He dropped down to his hands and knees. Unwilling to turn his back on the jungle, he began bum-shuffling backwards, one hand still holding the spear half ready, in case he needed to defend himself at a moment’s notice.

After a minute’s slow progress, he finally felt a sharp splinter of wood scrape the inside of his thigh and realized he was now just before the fractured halfway point. Cool water rode up his dangling legs, soaking him to his thighs. As he shuffled to get past the jagged shards of the fractured trunk, he heard it crack and felt it lurch as it sagged lower into the river. Water suddenly rode up over his knees and over his lap, pummelling his gut and chest like an enraged boxer sensing the faltering resolve of an opponent.

Oh no… please, no.

Water. Drowning. Suddenly the fear of being snatched and torn apart by some vicious predator was matched by the idea of being snatched away by the river.

‘It’s going to break!’ shouted someone.

Liam could feel the trunk being buffeted and kicked by the strong current. It flexed, creaked and twisted under the punishing weight of energy slamming into it. He realized it wasn’t going to hold out much longer and a rising tide of panic compelled him to get off his backside and crawl. He struggled on to his hands and knees, now, finally, turning his back on the jungle he’d moments ago thought was hiding the most frightening thing in this world.

No… the most bloody frightening thing right now was this churning white monster roaring hungrily at him, doing its best to pull him off. He could see the others waiting for him at the far end of the bowing log, all frantically waving at him to get a move on.

‘All right… all right, I’m coming!’ he yelped. He began to crawl forward on hands and knees. One hand carefully placed after the other on the treacherously wet bark.

Come on, Liam, come on. You’re nearly there. He managed to make his way a yard closer to the bank, and even managed to flash the others a cavalier I’m gonna be just fine grin, when his hand found a slick patch of moss.

‘Uhh…’ was all he managed to gasp before his hand slipped round the side of the trunk and the unsupported weight of his body carried him over.

65 million years BC, jungle

Suddenly he found himself spinning amid a roaring chaotic swirl of swiftly moving water. Instinctively he’d snatched a lungful of air as he’d gone under, his body doing the thinking for him while his mind shrieked uselessly with blind panic.

Drown! I’m gonna drown!

He knew it. His lungs were only going to buy him a half minute of life. His mind was all of a sudden back in the narrow confines of a corridor groaning with the sound of stressed bulkheads, flickering wall lamps and the distant roar of ice-cold seawater finding its way up from the deck below. The certain promise of death a mile down in the cold dark embrace of the ocean.

Oh no, no, no, no, not this! Not like this!