James Rollins - The 6th Extinction

Gray searched the remainder of the cabin.

Empty.

So only the four .

Through the windshield, he saw the squad leader sprinting along the riverbank, smartly keeping the CAAT’s bulk between him and where Kowalski was firing. While running, the commando struggled to free a radio.

If he reached his superior, alerted him of the attack, any hope of using the CAAT as a Trojan horse to get close to Wright would be gone.

Gray jumped out the driver’s door and lifted his rifle, but he knew the distance was too great to do much good. Likewise, Kowalski came charging around the back of the CAAT, machine gun in his arms, dragging a belt of rounds.

The squad leader already had the radio to his lips.

Too late .

Then something dark snapped out of the river, wrapped around the man’s waist, and yanked him off the bank. He vanished into the water with a thrashing splash.

Gray had recognized that pincer-lined tentacle. The gunfire — both sonic and regular — must have drawn the beast to the shoreline here. Apparently giving that monster a hot foot earlier had not only shocked it but also pissed it off.

Even in Hell, revenge is sweet .

Jason ran alongside Stella and her father. He had heard the firefight break out across the river, but he dared not take his focus off the closing pack of predators in order to check on Gray and Kowalski.

With the DSR locked to his shoulder, he shielded Stella and her father. He took potshots at the beasts, but the sonic rounds only seemed to scatter the pack temporarily, buying them an extra few seconds. Worst of all, the power meter on the side of his rifle had flickered into the red as he fired repeatedly.

Almost out of juice .

“I’ll lead them off,” Jason gasped, his boots heavy with mud and algae. “You two make for the Back Door.”

He slowed, waving them toward the far wall.

“Go, father.” Stella pushed the professor forward, while slipping out a knife from her belt. “I’ll help Jason.”

“We stay together,” Harrington said, stopping with them, breathing heavily. “ Leox depilis are like their African lion counterparts. They try to split off the weak. And besides, I don’t think I could run the rest of the way. We’ll make our stand here.”

Jason fired another shot, hitting the lead Leox , which reacted as if struck in the snout with a baseball bat. The others jerked to the left and right, slowing until their assaulted pack member could recover his senses.

Must be the leader .

By now, Jason had gotten a good look at them. Their muscular shoulders stood waist-high, their hairless skin oiled in black, almost iridescent under the IR beam’s glow. Their heads were wolfishly long, with jaws hinged near the back of their skulls, allowing them to open their dagger-lined maws disturbingly wide, reminding him of photos of the now-extinct thylacine, the Tasmanian tiger.

A hair-raising howl burst from the throat of the pack leader, plainly a challenge. Apparently, in this dark world, the louder you shouted, the bigger your balls.

The pack closed ranks to either side, stalking more cautiously forward now, preparing to close the last of the distance.

Jason lifted his rifle, which slowed the leader.

Smart… he recognizes the threat .

Jason’s only hope was that at closer range the sonic weapon would do more harm, encourage the pack to go after easier prey. A glance to his rifle’s power meter suggested he had only one shot left, so he had better make it count, which meant letting the pack get as close as possible before firing.

He fixed his aim upon the pack leader, knowing that was his true adversary.

Stella shifted to his side, ready to defend her father.

“Give me the gun,” she whispered.

Jason hesitated.

“I have an idea,” she pressed.

He relented and passed her his rifle, taking her dagger in trade. “I think we only have a single pulse left.”

“Then let’s hope I’m right about the dominance patterns of this species.”

She extracted what looked like a small microphone from where the rifle’s stock joined the gun. Jason suddenly remembered Harrington’s prior instructions about the DSR: how it could not only fire a sonic bullet, but it could also be used to amplify voices like a megaphone, or in reverse mode, to eavesdrop from a distance.

Stella settled the butt of the rifle to her shoulder, bringing the microphone to her lips. Instead of pointing the muzzle toward the pack as it silently stalked toward them, she lifted the gun toward the roof.

And howled.

It was a fair mimic of the pack leader’s cry, only magnified a hundredfold as she pulled the trigger, pulsing that scream of challenge up to the rooftop.

The blast echoed across the cavern.

The savage wail stopped the leader in his tracks, driving the beast into a wary crouch. It was plainly intimidated by the volume of that echoing scream.

Jason recalled his own thought from a moment ago.

In this dark world, the louder you shout, the bigger your balls .

The leader pushed away from them, one step, then another, never turning his back. The pack followed his example, shifting and darting to either side nervously, all the while slowly retreating.

Then upon some unknown signal, the pack turned and fled back into the darkness, yipping as they ran, ready to pursue less noisy prey.

Jason stared over at Stella. “You’re amazing.”

She shrugged and returned his rifle, now out of charge. Still, she tried to hide a smile of pride as she turned away. They continued on toward the far wall. At least there was enough trickling juice to keep the IR illuminator lit, but for how much longer?

He set a hard pace and crossed the last hundred yards in a matter of minutes. Far overhead, the substation shone dimly, lit by a couple of standby emergency lights.

Closer at hand, Jason stared at the steel rungs bolted into the wall. They formed a ladder that climbed the dozen or so stories to reach the Back Door.

It would be a tough haul.

Stella pointed out into the cavern. “Over there!”

Jason tensed, swinging around, expecting another attack. But she was pointing to a pool of light on the far side of the river. It was the CAAT. As they watched, it began to roll along the waterway, heading off.

Jason held his breath, then a distant triple beep of a horn sounded.

It was the prearranged signal.

Gray and Kowalski were okay. They had successfully commandeered the enemy’s CAAT, ready to pursue Dylan Wright.

Must’ve held off departing until our own lights reached the back wall .

Jason didn’t know if the others could see him, but he lifted his arm.

Good luck .

In retrospect, he should’ve saved some of that luck for himself.

As he lowered his arm, the IR illuminator flickered and died, plunging them into darkness.

What have I done?

Kendall sat at a workstation in the main lab. He had no choice but to stare at a large LCD monitor. It displayed live video feed from a tree-mounted camera. From the stark shades of grays, it must be recording through a low-light sensor. The view revealed a thick forest, draped in vines, shaded by a dense canopy. The lens pointed down into a clearing lined by gravel.

A series of three tall cages stood in the middle of the glade. Hazard signs warned the pens were electrified, like the fences between the tiers of Cutter’s macabre garden.

This must be the lowest level .

Kendall remembered catching a glimpse of that isolated piece of rain forest. But what else was down there?