“Fire!” Waxman called.
Nate had been too stunned to move. Carrera blazed with her M-16. Bullets peppered the underside of the giant, prehistoric caiman, but its yellowed belly scales were as hard as Kevlar. Even at almost point-blank range, it looked like little harm was done. Its weak points, the eyes, were hidden on the far side of its bulk.
Nate swung up his own shotgun, stretched his arm over Manny’s head, and fired. A load of pellet sprayed through the empty air as the beast dropped out of range. A wasted, panicked shot.
The caiman was gone. Okamoto was gone.
Everyone was frozen in shock.
Nate’s raft bobbed in the wake of the creature’s passing. He stared out at the spot where the Ranger had vanished, Okamoto with his damn whistling. A red stain bubbled up from below.
Blood on the water…now the monsters know there’s food here.
Kelly crouched with her brother in the center of their raft. Captain Waxman and Corporal Warczak knelt with their weapons ready. Yamir was finalizing his prep on two black bombs, each the size of a flat dinner plate with an electronic timer/receiver atop it. The demolitions expert leaned back. “Done,” he said with a nod to his captain.
“Retrieve your weapon,” Waxman said. “Be ready.”
Yamir picked up his M-16 rifle and took up watch on his side of the raft.
A splintering crash sounded behind them. Kelly swung around in time to see the third raft in their flotilla knocked high into the air, the same as Nate’s raft had done a moment before. But this time, its occupants were not as lucky. Anna Fong, her grip broken, went flying, catapulted through the air by the sudden attack. The anthropologist struck the water at the same time the raft crashed back down. Zane and Olin had managed to cling to the raft, as had Sergeant Kostos and Corporal Graves.
Anna popped to the surface, coughing and choking on water. She was only yards from the raft.
“Don’t move, Anna!” Nate called. “Tuck your arms and legs together and float.”
She clearly tried to obey, but her pack, waterlogged, dragged her underwater unless she kicked to keep herself afloat. Her eyes were white with panic; both the fear of drowning and the fear of what lurked in the waters shone bright in her eyes.
Movement drew her attention back to the assaulted raft. Sergeant Kostos was leaning out with one of the long bamboo poles that they had used to propel themselves away from shore.
“Grab on!” Kostos called to her.
Anna reached to the bamboo, fingers scrabbling for a moment, then clinging.
“I’m gonna pull you toward the raft.”
“No!” she moaned.
Nate again called. “Anna, it should be okay as long as you don’t make any sudden moves. Kostos, pull her very slowly toward you. Try not to raise a ripple.”
Kelly trembled. Frank put his arm around her.
Ever so slowly, the sergeant drew Anna back to the raft.
“Good, good…” Nate mumbled in a tense mantra.
Then, behind Anna, an armored snout appeared, just the nose, its eyes hidden underwater still.
“No one shoot!” Nate called. “Don’t rile it!”
Guns pointed, but there was no kill shot anyway.
Kostos had stopped pulling on the bamboo with the appearance of the caiman. No one moved.
A moan flowed from the woman in the water.
Ever so slowly the snout inched forward, rising slightly as its massive jaws yawned open.
Kostos was forced to slowly draw Anna toward him, keeping her just a couple of feet ahead of the approaching monster.
“Careful!” Nate called.
It was like some macabre slow-motion chase…and they were losing.
The snout of the creature was now less than a foot from the woman, the jaws gaping open behind her head. There was no way Anna could be pulled aboard without the creature attacking.
Someone else came to this same realization.
Corporal Graves ran across their raft and leaped over Anna’s head like an Olympic long jumper.
“Graves!” Kostos yelled.
The corporal landed atop the creature’s open snout, driving its jaws closed and shoving it underwater.
“Pull her aboard!” Graves hollered as he was sucked under by the caiman.
Kostos yanked Anna back to the raft and Olin helped haul her on board.
A moment later, the beast reared up out of the water, Graves still clinging to the top of its wide head. The caiman thrashed, trying to dislodge its strange rider. Its jaws reared open, and a bellow of rage escaped from it.
“Fuck you!” Graves said. “This is for my brother!” Clinging fast with his legs, he yanked something from his field jacket and tossed it down the beast’s gullet.
A grenade.
The massive jaws snapped at the Ranger, but he was out of reach.
“Everybody down!” Waxman bellowed.
Graves leaped from his perch, aiming for the raft, a shout on his lips. “Chew on that, you bastard!”
Behind him, the explosion ripped through the silent swamp. The head of the caiman blew apart, shredded by shrapnel.
Graves flew through the air, a roar of triumph flowing from his lips.
Then up from the depths shot the other caiman. Jaws wide, it lunged at the flying corporal, snatching him out of midair, like a dog catching a tossed ball, then crashed away, taking its prey with it. It had all happened in seconds.
The bulk of the slain caiman slowly rose to the surface of the lake, belly up, exposing the gray and yellow scaling of its underside.
The slack body of the huge creature was nudged from below. Ripples slowly circled it as the large beast was examined by the survivor.
“Maybe it’ll leave,” Frank said. “Maybe the other’s death will spook it away.”
Kelly knew this wouldn’t happen. These creatures had to be hundreds and hundreds of years old. Mates for life, the only pair of its kind sharing this ecosystem.
The ripples faded. The lake grew quiet again.
Everyone kept eyes fixed on the waters around them, holding their breath or wheezing tensely. Minutes stretched. The sun baked everyone.
“Where did it go?” Zane whispered, hovering beside his ashen colleague. Anna, soaked and terrified, just trembled.
“Maybe it did leave,” Frank mumbled.
The trio of rafts, rudderless, slowly drifted alongside the bulk of the dead monster. Nate’s boat was on the far side of the body. Kelly met his eye. He nodded, trying to convey calm assurance, but even the experienced jungle man looked scared. Behind him, the jaguar crouched beside its master, hackles raised.
Frank shifted his legs slightly. “It must have fled. Maybe—”