Danger Dinosaurs! полностью

“We’ve got a big day ahead,” Masterson said cheerfully. He was smiling broadly, as if his little sortie had been a big success. Chuck’s eyes sought his brother’s face, found it expressionless. “Mighty interesting country hereabout,” Masterson went on. “Eh, Spencer?”

“Fine country,” Owen replied.

Arthur stood silently by Owen, his arms hanging at his sides, his big hands open.

“I want to get under way as soon as possible,” Masterson said. He looked at Gardel. “From what I could gather, Brock, we should head out past the lake, swinging away from it about a mile from here. That sound all right to you?”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Masterson.”

“Fine! Let’s load up then. Pete, Arthur, get started on this mess, will you?” He rubbed his hands together. “We’ve got a big day ahead. A mighty big day.”

The sun climbed into the sky, peering down on the moving truck and jeep like a hot, unwinking eye. It was a warm day, like a spring day back home, with the smell of rich earth and growing things in the air. The vehicles left the flat rocks and began shoving through the tangled vegetation again. Insects sprang up around them like fine clouds of dust. The ferns parted, leafy lacelike curtains that would be pressed with the weight of time to form the coal beds of the future. The progress was slow, and the land begrudged the party every inch it gave up.

Chuck sat in the jeep and watched the land unfold before them. The panorama of green stretched for miles, a gently undulating sea of growth that shifted and rolled with the mild breeze. There was a stillness on the land that somehow made it more alien. Far in the distance, Chuck could see the jagged, weathered peaks of a mountain range. And dotting the land, like glistening mirrors embedded in a green velvet carpet, were countless lakes. There were scurrying creatures in the brush-small reptiles that gleamed brightly as they scampered by. Chuck was thankful that they’d seen none of the larger animals since their brush with the stegosaurs.

And then the pterosaur appeared, quite suddenly.

At first it was nothing more than a shadow that skimmed the ground, covering the truck and moving back over the jeep.

Chuck looked up rapidly and there it was, silhouetted against the sky, the sun filtering through its membranous wings.

It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.

The truck stopped and Masterson came running back to the jeep, his rifle in his hands.

“What was that, Spencer? Did you see it? A bird or something!” His face was flushed with excitement and his eyes kept flicking to the sky.

“That was a pterosaur,” Owen said. “A flying reptile.”

“Brother, it was something!” Masterson said.

“Probably Rhamphorhynchus,” Chuck said. “It looked like one.”

Masterson’s eyes lit up, and he pointed rapidly. “It’s coming back. I’m going to get a shot at that baby!”

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Owen said tightly.

“I’ve had enough of your advice,” Masterson replied.

The pterosaur was winging its way back to the jeep, gliding lower and lower. It looked something like an enormous bat with a peculiarly shaped head. It had a short, stout body, a fairly long neck and a short tail. Its wings were fully spread, some four feet from wing tip to wing tip. As it fell toward the jeep, Masterson readied his rifle for a shot.

Chuck could see every detail of the creature now.

Its front limbs ended in sharp claws. One finger of each limb was enormously elongated to support the membrane, which spread like a thin web and connected with the rear limbs.

The creature’s head was a long, flat, bony affair, terminating in a pointed beak at one end. The whole head gave the illusion of having been passed through a wringer. When the pterosaur opened its jaws, Chuck saw the sparkle of sharp teeth. Then the jaws snapped shut, and the reptile’s shadow fell over the jeep as the creature passed directly overhead.

There was the loud boom of Masterson’s gun breaking the stillness of the morning. The reptile’s jaws opened again, and a hoarse, high scream tore the air to shreds, ran up the spine like the blood cry of a banshee. The wings flapped frantically as Masterson squeezed off shot after shot. Chuck stood by helplessly, his fists clenched tightly. Then the pterosaur gained altitude, its long shadow gliding over the land. Higher it went, and higher, flying away from the thing with the fast-flying, steel-jacketed teeth.