James Rollins - The 6th Extinction

One only had to stare at Harrington’s haunted, scared eyes to understand what he meant.

“Maybe we should never have found these caverns again,” the professor said. “Maybe we should have heeded Darwin’s wisdom to keep this secret buried and untouched.”

Kowalski hollered from up front. “Better come see this!”

The urgency in his voice drew them all to their feet. They piled up into the front cab. Harrington dropped heavily into the passenger seat.

Past the windshield, a vast swampland blocked the way ahead, flowing with streams, pools, and a scatter of waterfalls. The great petrified forest behind them dwindled down to a handful of lonely sentinels out there. Overhead, stalactites pointed down from the roof.

Across this swampland spread vast fields of the phosphorescent reeds, lighting even the darkness beyond the reach of their headlamps. Strange creatures moved everywhere across this macabre field. Wading birds took off on leathery wings, fleeing the arrival of the growling, smoking beast of a cruiser. Lumbering shadows slumped through the reeds, their presence only discernible by their passage. Along the banks, other creatures slithered, hopped, or crawled out of their way. All the while, screams, caterwauls, and piping songs pierced their steel cocoon, as if life down here continually challenged this noisy trespasser into their midst.

But none of this was what caused Kowalski to call out.

Gray gaped at the sight before him.

My God…

Throughout this flooded savannah moved a herd of massive beasts, a hundred or more in number, each the size of a woolly mammoth. They moved mostly on all fours, though occasionally one would rise up on its hind legs and lumber in an ursine fashion for a few steps, likely surveying its surroundings for danger, before dropping back down. Their faces had short proboscises, like dwarf trunks of an elephant. These prehensile appendages would snatch at the reeds, pulling them up and gnashing them slowly, methodically, like a cow chewing a cud.

“See that moss growing along their flanks,” Stella said.

Gray squinted. He had thought the great shaggy mats hanging from their muscular bodies were fur, like found on mammoths. Only this growth softly glowed in a kaleidoscope of colors.

“We believe the moss has a symbiotic relationship with these beasts, which we named Pachycerex ferocis . The Pachyceri use their body heat to trigger those changes in colors, using it as a way to communicate among the herd.”

“Like fireflies in a meadow,” Jason said, earning a smile from Stella.

Kowalski was less enamored. “Only looks like these fireflies could stomp you to death.” He glanced over to the professor in the neighboring seat. “What about us? Is it safe to continue?”

“Just go slow. The headlamps will likely confuse them enough to let us pass.”

For a species that communicated in soft glows, the herd probably thought the cruiser was yelling at them, like some tone-deaf and deformed member of their species.

“They’ve never truly bothered us in the past,” Harrington continued. “But I’ve never seen such numbers in one place. We’ve spotted a few here and there, and they leave us alone, especially if we stay brightly lit.”

“Maybe it’s mating season,” Stella said. “And this is their breeding ground.”

“In that case,” Kowalski said, “nobody out there better get the wrong idea about us and decide to put the moves on this boxy lady of ours. Getting flattened by a horny elephant is not the way I’m planning on dying.”

“Do what the professor says,” Gray warned. “Move out, but set a cautious pace.”

Kowalski grumbled under his breath as he put the cruiser into gear. They headed through the shallows, making a wide circling arc to stay clear of the deeper pools of the flooded terrain. The Pachyceri meandered out of their path, a few snorting at them, as if rebuking them for the rude intrusion. They rolled past one tall enough to peer into the side of the cab, eyeballing the strangers inside.

“Nosy guy,” Kowalski said, glancing back for approval. “Get it… nosy .”

Stella and Jason both groaned.

Gray kept a watch on the rearview mirrors, making sure none of the beasts decided to challenge them, worried that even the stout cruiser might not survive a full-on assault by one or more of these giant creatures.

As he kept guard, a flash of light caught his attention in the mirror, much brighter than the herd’s glow. It came from farther back, where the petrified forest grew thicker. Then he spotted another set of lights to the left, like a pair of xenon-glowing eyes. And a moment later, a third pair joined the other two.

Gray’s fingers tightened on the seatback in front of him.

“We’ve got company.”

No wonder it took us so long to run these bastards down…

Dylan Wright stood behind the driver of the largest CAAT, staring out at the expanse of swampland and the lumbering herd of Pachyceri . Far to his right, a vehicle blazed a bright trail across the periphery of the glowing herd, a comet arcing along the floor of the dark cavern.

So they got Byrd’s old snow cruiser moving again .

It must have happened after Dylan and his team fled Hell’s Cape a year and a half ago. But it was no great matter. Land-bound, the cruiser could not match the speed and amphibious dexterity of a CAAT, especially the smaller ones.

Plus the odds were stacked in Dylan’s favor: three against one.

Not to mention, his team already outmanned and outgunned their opponents, likely by the same uneven ratio.

Dylan touched his radio’s earpiece. He spoke to the smaller CAATs to either side. “McKinnon, flank right. Seward, head left. Keep them pinned down. I’ll take the big CAAT and run it right up their arses.”

He got affirmations from both men.

“Go!” he ordered, tasting the familiar lust of the hunt in the back of his throat.

Now to end this .

Jason rode shotgun next to Kowalski as the snow cruiser raced across the swamplands, crushing through the reeds, scattering wildlife, while avoiding the larger obstacles in their path, namely the lumbering Pachyceri . The big beasts trumpeted their complaint, trotting out of the way as best they could. Kowalski jackknifed the big rig back and forth to avoid hitting any stragglers — not necessarily out of concern for the animals, but out of fear that a collision would do more harm to their vehicle than to the thick-hided creatures.

The snow cruiser struck a ridge and jolted up, going impossibly airborne for a moment, then crashing back down on its giant wheels.

Jason clutched the arm of his chair, while keeping watch out his window. Across the cab, Stella crouched in a jump seat behind Kowalski, keeping her eyes glued to the left side of the cruiser.

Lights flared out in the darkness to the right.

“Here they come on our starboard side!” Jason yelled, loud enough for Gray to hear down in the lower cabin.

“Over here, too!” Stella echoed.

On both sides, twin spears of headlamps flanked the barreling cruiser, racing about thirty yards out, running faster and more nimbly than their cumbersome rig. The smaller CAATs were plainly trying to get ahead, to slow them down. A larger CAAT trailed, but it was closing fast, its buoyant treads allowing it to skim across this watery landscape.

“We need to go faster,” Jason mumbled under his breath.

Kowalski heard him. “Got it floored, kid. Unless you want to go out and push, this is it.”

Jason shared a worried glance with Stella.

They’d never outrun these hunters.