The Lost Valley, page 12
“Harrison, Baker, come in,” Roscoe said quietly. The high-tuned microphone in the faceplate could easily pick up his whisper and transmit it over the HD radio signal. There was no answer.
Smith hefted his left arm. Like all of the soldiers, he had what amounted to a laptop computer strapped to his forearm. Roughly the size of a large smartphone, the unit was the epitome of military strategy. He hit a command and the screen came to life. It was both a motion sensor and an overlay of their current location. It was reading the two missing soldiers’ units. They were further down the hallway. Not moving.
“I don’t like this,” Smith said.
Beale nodded.
“Move out,” he said.
They had negotiated just more than half of the west corridor and Beale, in the lead, stopped. He held up his right hand in a fist as a wordless signal to the two men behind him to halt. All three took a knee, battle rifles up, eyes forward. Three meters ahead, there was a huge pool of blood, some weapons, a couple pieces of equipment.
And some limbs.
Even worse than that was how the smear trailed off to the right into an open doorway on the north side of the corridor. All three men were stone quiet. Beale crouch-walked to the leading edge of the door. He was careful not to step on the gloved hand that rested on the grime-covered floor.
When he reached the door, he stopped and slowly reached his left hand around to a pocket at his lower back. He pulled out a small rubber ball and gently rolled it around the frame and into the room. The rubber surface of the ball was nearly completely silent and Beale only rolled it far enough to clear the door frame. The ball stopped automatically and started sending a signal back to the three men in the hallway.
On their visors, it resembled a picture-in-picture screen. It was a fairly standard room type on floor one of Building 5. It was about eight meters square with no windows and no furniture. The camera in the small ball’s sensor had centered on an object moving, only slightly in the far corner of the room. It was completely in the shadows.
“What the fuck,” Roscoe whispered.
Either by hearing this utterance or sensing the three men in the corridor 10 meters away, the creature turned.
“Oh shit,” Smith whispered.
They were looking at an uncategorized apex predator. The word “UNCLASSIFIED” was blinking on their faceplate HUD screens with numbers and data flashing all around the image perimeter. Soon, the word was replaced by the text UC-0104 as the shared computer started building a file on the as-yet unstudied dinosaur.
It was nearly 10 feet tall and had to stoop slightly to stand in the room. It stood on its hind legs and had a thick tail curled around its feet. Massive cords of muscle were clearly visible beneath a spiny, reptilian skin. Twin rows of spikes ran the length of its back and tapered to blend in with the base of the tail.
Two of its four arms were holding the lifeless corpse of what was left of the researcher Leafly. Ragged bits of flesh fell from its powerful jaws. It stopped chewing as it turned its head toward the door.
“Barrier,” Beale called out as he tossed a flash-bang into the room. He could hear the pop as the tiny canister exploded and the creature roared in anger as it was temporarily blinded. Smith pulled a metal bar out of a thigh pocket and jammed one side into the door frame. He pressed a button and the metal bar instantly expanded to cover the width of the door and then upward as it climbed to the top of the frame. It was instantly attaching itself to the frame with an industrial strength adhesive as Smith and Roscoe were hitting each side of the barrier with nail guns that shot long, spiked projectiles. The door was completely barricaded in 10 seconds. Twelve seconds after Beale had thrown the flash-bang, the barrier shuddered as the creature rammed it with incredible force.
“Gotta go,” Beale said.
The three men turned and ran, double-quick, down the corridor to meet up with the scientists and the waiting evac vehicles.
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William Meikle, The Lost Valley
