“Yeah, right now. But like Monique said, evolution takes place gradually.”
“Meaning what? That these things will take over the planet one day?”
“Maybe.”
“How long do ya figure, Socrates?”
“I don’t know. Maybe twenty million years. Maybe a thousand. Maybe ten.”
“Ten?” Monique turned. “Craig, there’s no historical precedent for anything like that.”
“So what? So you’re saying that because it took other species millions of years to make evolutionary leaps, it will take this species the same amount of time?”
“Well… yeah.”
“That logic doesn’t hold, Monique. Just look at man. Man evolved faster than any species in the history of the planet. What it took the others millions of years to do, we did in just ten thousand. So who says this species couldn’t evolve even faster than that? I mean, imagine what would happen if there were a million of those things flying around out there.”
“A million?” Jason thought that was insane. “Craig, that’s not possible. That’s not even close to possible. There’s one animal out there right now. How do you get to a million?”
“Jason, you know how big the damn oceans are. Two miles deep on average and almost triple the surface area of land. Triple. Do you realize how much space that is? We have no idea how many of those things there could be down there.”
“It’s nowhere near a million.”
“No? Do you know what the worldwide shark population is?”
A pause. “No, I don’t.”
“Fifty billion.”
“No way.”
A firm nod. “Fifty billion. And if these rays have been around for as long as the sharks have… Who knows how many of them there could be.”
No one said anything. They just digested the possibilities.
Jason cleared his throat. “So what are you saying here, Craig? That this thing could be our apocalypse?”
“Is it so ridiculous? All the doomsayers always said it would be a virus. Maybe it’s this thing instead.”
“I think we better just kill the one that’s out there now,” Phil chipped in from the chair.
Darryl stood. “I’ll drink to that. In fact, why doesn’t everyone drink to that?” He grabbed a six-pack of Budweiser from the kitchen and returned. “Lord Socrates,” he said, tossing Craig his.
Six beers were raised, clanked together, and tipped toward the ceiling. As the amber liquid flowed, the others reluctantly admitted that Craig Summers had raised some fascinating points. What if there really were a million Demonrays? Or just a dozen? Or even two or three?
But they all told themselves that wasn’t realistic. For once, Phil Martino was right. They had to kill the one that was out there now.
NO ONE slept soundly.
At six the next morning, Jason turned over on his bed when there was a knock on his door.
Craig entered rapidly, fully dressed and tense. “We just got a reading, Jason.”
He jolted up. “Where?”
“In the same area it’s been returning to. Right where I thought it would be. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 79
A BLINKING dot moved quickly across the sweeping green line, disappeared, then continued as the next sweep popped up.
“Where’s it going?” Jason said, totally without his bearings.
Summers glanced at a map. “Toward us. Looks like near the first thermal camera… We might get a visual here….” Craig bounced to the thermal monitor, enlarging one of the images to full screen. The view was aimed skyward along a redwood trunk: the dark gray trunk, then, above it, a lighter gray forest canopy and bits of sky.
Suddenly, beneath the canopy, a solid white form sped into the frame. It continued for a moment, then banked and flew straight down, heading directly for the camera. It steadily grew larger, then banked again, just above the lens, and sped off and disappeared.
“Where the hell did it go?…” Craig checked the other images but didn’t see it anywhere. “It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
Jason just stared at the monitor. “Can you replay that?”
Craig hit a button and replayed it in slo-mo… the massive white form eased into the frame… continued slowly… turned straight down… gradually grew larger… then very large…. Then Craig hit another button, freezing it.
They all stared at the image. It was eerie, the huge eyes, the protruding horns, the open mouth, the teeth… all in bright white.
Craig nodded. “Right where I thought it would be. Told you this stuff would help, Hoss.”
Darryl just gave the frozen image a dirty look. “Let’s see where it is when we get out there.”
THE EARLY-MORNING air was crisp and cool. And oddly, without a trace of fog. It was quiet, too. Just two sounds. Their hissing walkie-talkies and little snaps from underneath their boots.
The hunting circle moved slowly. Every head turned, looking high, low, left, right, back, and front.
Jason just looked up, wondering where the fog was.
At the head of the circle, Darryl wondered the same thing. Studying the patches of blue through the canopy, he was growing increasingly uneasy. “I don’t think it’s up there.” He halted. “It wouldn’t have anywhere to hide.”
Craig nodded. “The readings were from further ahead.”
Darryl ignored this, not moving. He didn’t think the creature was close.
And yet the forest was so very silent.
THE DEMONRAY banked silently, careful not to make a sound.
It had been waiting for them to stop. Now that they had, it glided away from them. Just above the treetops, it tuned in for something else.
After a minute, it detected what it was searching for. It found a hole in the canopy and plunged through it. As it banked over a huge patch of pink flowers, it saw them, nibbling on a fern patch. A family of deer, eight animals covered in soft brown fur, chewing their food unknowingly.
The largest, a three-hundred-pound big-horned buck, saw the creature first, then froze. Simply “not moving” was a well-known tactic deer used to evade detection from predators. The Demonray flew straight for them.
The buck galloped away and the others followed. Within seconds, they were streaking through the trees.
The predator caught up instantly, but did not attack. With the cool morning air surging past it’s head, it carefully scanned the sprinting animals, first the buck, then the smaller does, then, bringing up the rear, a tiny fawn.
The black eyes locked onto the fawn. The little animal was doing its best to stay up with the herd but wasn’t quite able. Its big eyes suddenly went wide when a powerful surge of wind blew through its fur. Then it leaped over a fern patch but didn’t come down.
It had been caught by a pair of enormous teeth.
Very much alive, the fawn suddenly began to ascend. As saliva dripped onto its head, it watched as its family ran away below and disappeared. Then it was whisked toward the treetops….
The Demonray continued for a minute when it abruptly banked. Easing into a glide, it surveyed a clearing hundreds of feet below, lined by trunks, rhododendrons, and ferns, and not outwardly special in any way.
Then it released the fawn.
When the tiny animal landed, it tried to run, but couldn’t even get up. Its legs weren’t working.
The creature watched it coldly, simultaneously tuning to six human heartbeats nearby. Then it banked and flew away.
“THIS IS where we saw it. It was from that camera, right there.” Craig gestured to a black thermal camera on top of a tripod, pointed up along a redwood trunk.