It rocketed forward and disappeared within the lightless cavern.
PART III
CHAPTER 48
THIS CAVE was smaller than its oceanside counterpart, eight stories high and three car lanes wide. At the very top of the mountain range, it offered a towering view. A field of gently flowing cornstalks was below; miles beyond that, the looming redwood forest.
It was midmorning, and there was no sun. Near the cave’s entrance, the creature was sprawled out on the dank stone, still moist from the previous night, its thick hull rising and falling as it breathed. Submerged in shadows, the animal blended seamlessly into the black rock and was very hard to see. It had long since made its way to this side of the mountain, the land side.
It was an ugly, cloudy day, and its eyes were pointed at the sky. Though the predator wasn’t looking at the sky, nor at the clouds. It was studying the light. It had just brightened, if only slightly. Human eyes, which took in one-five-hundredth the amount of visual information, never would have detected it. It was another shade of gray, one of more than four hundred the creature had seen in just the past hour.
It didn’t move. As the day continued, the sun gradually peeked through the clouds, reached a maximum height, then began to dip. A sunset followed, then disappeared. The night came, the moon rose, and still, the animal remained still. The moon fell, the muted light of day arrived, the sun rose again, and the process repeated itself. When the sunrise returned once more, the study of light was complete. It was time to sleep. Though not here.
Seconds later, the predator zoomed through the maze of blackened tunnels behind it, cold air whisking past its large horned head. It saw nothing yet sensed everything. It continued for several seconds when it entered a towering, unseen central cavern. It pumped its wings hard, rising several hundred feet, then glided down in wide, sweeping circles. Ten feet from the dank rock floor, it simply stopped flapping and landed with a loud, echoing thwack. Then it closed its eyes and slept.
FOURTEEN HOURS later the creature awoke. It was pitch-black here, yet the animal knew it was light outside. Its study guaranteed it. Hungry, it flew to the nearby carcass of a bear it had killed, the mother of the cub. It feasted savagely, tearing off ragged bloody chunks of fur-covered meat, then chewing. When its stomach was full, it flew back to the cave mouth and landed with a thump that kicked up surprising amounts of black dust. As the dust settled around and on top of it, it didn’t move. It focused on the distant redwood forest, knowing prey was there. It wanted to hunt badly but knew it could not. The sun was in the sky. It just had to wait for it to disappear.
CHAPTER 49
TRY THIS one, Jason.”
Craig handed him a Winchester Game 94 rifle.
Under fading bleak skies, they were half a mile offshore of Redwood Inlet. They’d been practicing shooting for hours, aiming at a huge floating target Craig had set up in the ocean. The size of a Las Vegas roulette wheel with big white and blue rings and a faded red bull’s-eye, the target sat on its own little raft, weighted heavily so it bobbed as little as possible when a wave struck.
Jason nodded, taking the rifle. The previous one, Craig’s old Mossberg RM-7, had been surprisingly heavy; but this one, he felt right away, was much lighter.
“Load it, aim, then fire. Phil, when he’s done you’ll go.” Craig turned to Monique. “Lisa still doesn’t want to shoot?”
“That’s why she’s at the front of the boat by herself, Craig. All right, I’m gonna go hang with Darryl. Let me know if you need a hand with this.” She went below deck.
“OK, get to it, Jason.”
Jason aimed carefully, waited as a big wave splashed the target, and… Bang! The rifle kicked back with a violent jerk, and he missed completely.
Craig shook his head. “Pay attention, and watch the recoil. This is a lighter gun. Hold it firmly but not too tight.”
“OK.” Jason drew the rifle close, eased down on the trigger again and… Bang!
Craig nodded. “Three rings from the bull’s-eye. Not bad at all. OK, Phil, now you.”
“Oh, sure.” Phil pivoted and inadvertently pointed his rifle right at Craig when… Bang!
“Jesus Christ!” Craig felt a bullet whistle past his ear. He grabbed the firearm away furiously. “You could have fucking killed me, Phil!”
“My God, I am so sorry. Are you all right?”
Jason put his arm on Craig’s shoulder. “Are you OK?”
Summers exhaled, feeling around his ear. “Yeah. I guess I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry.” Phil was devastated. “You know that was an accident.”
Craig chuckled. “Yeah, no harm, no foul. You spend so much time on your laptop, maybe you should shoot that instead.”
Jason smiled, but Phil didn’t seem to find this remark amusing.
“All right.” Craig returned the rifle. “Try again. Carefully.”
Phil held the rifle out in front of him, eyeing the target.
“Aim.”
“I am.”
“Watch for the recoil.”
“Uh-huh.”
Craig shrugged. Phil Martino wasn’t listening and it showed. He was holding the rifle too tightly, not looking down the line of the barrel, and, worst of all, not easing down on the trigger. Craig could already tell he was going to jolt it down like a kid on a pinball machine. “Fire whenever.” Bang! As expected, the bullet didn’t even come close to the target. Craig just shook his head. How had Phil Martino even learned to type? He glanced up at the sky. It was starting to get dark. “All right, guys. I think that’s it for the day.”
Jason handed over his firearm. “Thanks again, Craig.”
Phil just put his on the deck. “I’ve got some work to do. No more jokes about shooting my laptop, Summers. Your notes are on there too.”
He went below deck, and Craig stared after him blankly. “Is he kidding?”
Jason just shook his head. Somehow he didn’t think Phil Martino was kidding at all.
“What’s going on, fellas?”
It was Darryl, up from below deck in a bright orange Izod and green pants, looking like a guy off a Hamptons polo field except for the big bow over his shoulder. “Big Dog’s been getting rusty.” He held up three arrows. “Just gonna fire a few for fun.”
Before Jason even realized… Voom! Voom! Voom! The arrows rocketed through the darkening air…. One after another they ripped into the dead center of the target, the last splintering into the first. Darryl shrugged. “Not as rusty as I thought.” He started to smile, but then he glanced at the nearby creek and suddenly looked unsettled, even disturbed.
“Grab a beer, Big Dog?” Craig asked, not noticing his friend’s change in demeanor.
“Definitely.” Darryl turned. “Jason?”
Jason eyed someone at the front of the boat. “Uh, maybe in a little bit, guys.” Darryl and Craig disappeared below deck, and Jason walked toward Lisa. She immediately glared at him.
“What did I do?” he said as if wrongly accused.
She glanced around, checking to see that nobody else was on deck.
“Guns scare me, Jason. They scare the hell out of me. My God, look at what almost happened to Craig.”
“That was an accident.”
“It’s always an accident with those damn things!”
He wanted to stay calm. “Guns scare me, too, Lisa. But if we actually find what we’re looking for… we’ve got to be cautious, right?”