“We’ve secured the Hall,” the Commander said. “No sign of any animal. Medic team deploying now.”
“Good. You’ll need to find the thing, kill it, and locate the Mayor’s party. We believe they went down the stairwell back by the service area.”
“Roger, Dugout,” said the Commander.
[400] As the Commander’s radio buzzed into silence, he heard a sudden report, muffled but unmistakable.
“Red One to Dugout, we just heard a pistol shot. Sounded like it was coming from above.”
“Dammit, go after it!” cried Coffey. “Take your men and go after it!”
The Commander turned to his men. “All right. Red Two, Red Three, finish up and secure here. Take the grenade launcher. The rest of you come with me.”
= 56 =
The viscous water was now lapping at Smithback’s waist. Just keeping his balance was exhausting. His legs had long since gone numb, and he was shivering.
“This water is rising awful damn fast.” D’Agosta said.
“I don’t think we need to worry about that creature anymore,” Smithback said hopefully.
“Maybe not. You know,” D’Agosta told him slowly, “You were pretty quick back there, jamming the door with the flashlight like that. I guess you saved all our lives.”
“Thanks,” said Smithback, liking D’Agosta more and more.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” D’Agosta said over the rush of the water.
“Everyone okay?” D’Agosta turned back to the Mayor.
The Mayor looked haggard. “It’s touch and go. There are a few who are slipping into shock or exhaustion, [402] maybe both. Which way from here?” His eyes searched them.
D’Agosta hesitated. “Ah, I really can’t say anything conclusively,” he said at last. “Smithback and I will try the right fork first.”
The Mayor looked back at the group, then moved closer to D’Agosta. “Look,” he said, in a low, pleading tone. “I know you’re lost.
D’Agosta looked at the Mayor for a moment. “All right,” he said at last. Then he turned to the group. “Listen up now,” he shouted. “We’re gonna be taking the right tunnel. Everyone join hands, form a line. Hold on tight. Stay against the wall—the current’s getting too strong in the center. If anyone slips, give a yell, but don’t let go under any circumstances. Everybody got that? Let’s go.”
The dark shape moved slowly through the broken door, stepping catlike over the splintered wood. Cuthbert felt pins and needles in his legs. He wanted to shoot, but his hands refused to obey.
“Please go away,” he said, so calmly he surprised himself.
It stopped suddenly and looked directly at him. Cuthbert could see nothing in the dim light but the huge, powerful silhouette and the small red eyes. They looked, somehow, intelligent.
“Don’t hurt me,” Cuthbert pleaded.
The creature remained still.
“I’ve got a gun,” Cuthbert whispered. He aimed carefully. “I won’t shoot if you go away,” he said quietly.
It moved slowly sideways, keeping its head turned [403] toward Cuthbert. Then there was a sudden movement and it was gone.
Cuthbert backed away in a panic, his flashlight skittering wildly across the floor. He spun around frantically. All was silent. The creature’s stench filled the room. Suddenly he found himself stumbling into the Dinosaur Hall, and then he was slamming the door behind him.
“The key!” he cried. “Lavinia, for God’s sake!”
He looked wildly around the darkened hall. Before him, a great tyrannosaurus skeleton reared up from the center. In front of it squatted the dark form of a triceratops, its head lowered, the great black horns gleaming in the dull light.
He heard a sobbing, then he felt a key being pressed into his palm. He swiftly locked the door.
“Let’s go,” he said, guiding her away from the door, past the clawed foot of the tyrannosaur. They moved deeper into darkness. Suddenly, Cuthbert pulled the Public Relations Director to one side, then guided her into a crouch. He peered into the gloom, senses straining. The Hall of Cretaceous Dinosaurs was deathly silent. Not even the sound of the rain penetrated this dark sanctum. The only light came from rows of high clerestory windows.
Surrounding them was a herd of small struthiomimus skeletons, arranged in a defensive U-shaped formation before the monstrous skeleton of a carnivorous dryptosaurus, its head down, jaws open, and huge claws extended. Cuthbert had always relished the scale and drama of this room, but now it frightened him. Now he knew what it was like to be hunted.
Behind them, the entrance to the Hall was blocked by a heavy steel emergency door. “Where’s Winston?” Cuthbert whispered, peering through the bones of the dryptosaur.
