Day of the Predator - Alex Scarrow [113]
Maddy swallowed and puffed out a fluttering breath, her eyes resolutely on the wavering muzzle of Cartwright’s gun.
‘Sure. Uh … O-OK. Nothing silly, then … I totally promise you that.’
CHAPTER 62
65 million years BC, jungle
Liam heard the roar of the water through the trees ahead of them.
‘Becks? Are we close?’
‘Affirmative. The river is a hundred and twenty-six yards ahead of us.’
He grinned a mixture of relief and bravado. ‘Jay-zus-’n’-Mary, am I glad to be back!’
By the look on the faces of the others they couldn’t agree more with that. The thick canopy of leaves above them began to thin out as they approached the jungle’s edge, lances of late-afternoon sunlight stabbing down past loops of vine and dappling the ground with pools of mottled light.
With a final glance back at the forbidding darkness behind them, and an almost complete certainty that those things were still somewhere back there watching them from a distance, they hurried forward into the light.
Up ahead the river frothed and tumbled like some endlessly enraged beast. On the far side, he could see their bridge, dangling like a crane’s arm above the water. He was relieved to see it was raised; the four they’d left behind had maintained a wary caution.
Liam stood on the bank and cupped his hands. ‘Hello-o-o-o-o!’
The others gathered beside him. They’d lost three of their number, Ranjit, Franklyn and, earlier this morning, Kelly. All of them had heard his cry, and it had hastened their efforts down into the jungle valley, knowing those things were somewhere behind. And they’d grouped together more cautiously, realizing now the creatures were looking for stragglers.
Being bunched together seemed to have paid off. There’d been no sign of them throughout the morning, midday and now into the afternoon. Not even when they’d cleared the bare peak. Liam had looked back quickly in the hope of catching their pursuers unawares. But he saw nothing.
Now they were back. Job was done.
Liam craned his neck to look into the thin veil of jungle on the far side of the river. He could see some slivers of light through the dark tree trunks, the clearing beyond. But no sign of anyone coming their way to lower the bridge yet.
‘Try again,’ said Laura.
‘H-E-L-L-O-O-O-O-O!’
Liam’s voice echoed above the roar of the river, and startled a flock of miniature pterodactyls from a nearby tree. They waited with growing anticipation for a few minutes.
‘They’d have heard that surely?’ said Whitmore.
Edward stood on tiptoes to get a look through the jungle opposite. ‘Unless they’re all sleeping.’
‘There’ll be hell to pay if they are,’ muttered Liam. He cupped his hands again. ‘WE’RE BACK!’
Still nothing.
‘Maybe they gone huntin’?’ said Juan.
‘I gave instructions that someone always has to keep an eye on the windmill,’ replied Liam irritably.
Laura nodded at the bridge. ‘Someone would have to stay behind anyway, to lift that for them and lower it.’
He nodded. ‘True.’
‘So someone must be home.’
‘This is not good,’ he muttered under his breath.
Becks had been examining the fast-flowing water. ‘I am able to cross this,’ she said.
‘The current’s too strong,’ said Liam.
‘I do not need to swim across all of it, Liam.’ She pointed along the bank on which they were standing. Fifty yards down, it rose to a moss-covered hump that was well on its way to being undercut by the river. ‘Information: I calculate I will be able to jump across between thirty and forty per cent of the river’s width from that point.’
He looked at her. ‘And you know how to swim?’
‘Affirmative. I also know how to walk, run, jump … talk.’
He cocked a sideways glance at her. Was that actually sarcasm? Was that another example of Becks’s emerging sense of humour? She returned a smile.
‘Oh, you’re so funny, Becks.’
‘I am developing several files on humour traits.’ She nodded towards the mossy hump, changing subject. ‘I will not be long,’ she said,