Chapter 19: The search

  Little Bear moved shotgun low, eyes scanning the ground. The distant call from the Brachiosaurs rolled across the interior again.

  Hector kept his rifle up anyway. “Hate that sound,” he muttered.

  Loni’s raised an eyebrow at him. “Why? It’s like a whale song.”

  “Don’t like those either.”

  Loni rolled her eyes.

  Little Bear stopped at a cluster of rocks near the overlook. He crouched and pointed.

  The ground here was scraped. Ferns were crushed flat. A patch of damp earth was stamped with overlapping treads.

  “They posted up here,” Hector whispered, scanning the open view as if expecting teenagers to reappear and wave.

  JJ’s gaze flicked over the rock shelf. A cheap aluminum canteen lay on its side, lid still attached, a thin trickle of water dried into a dark streak down the stone. Next to it, a plastic comb, one of the cheap ones you’d get in a travel kit, snapped in half.

  Loni picked up the comb piece with two fingers, turned it once, then put it back down. “Looks like they were resting.”

  Little Bear shifted his eyes across the ground, then tapped the dirt with the tip of his boot. A smear ran along the ground, dark, thin, and uneven. “Looks like they ran into trouble.”

  “That blood?” Hector asked.

  Loni was already kneeling. “Yeah.”

  JJ sighed. “I’m starting to think they might not be alive after all.”

  Little Bear rose, tracking the blood trail into the brush at the ridge's edge, a shallow track where something had been dragged across the ground. Leaves pushed aside in a straight line. Damp dirt gouged where heels or toes dug in.

  Little Bear followed the line two steps and stopped.

  A faint vibration traveled up through the rock under JJ’s boots. Subtle enough, he’d almost missed it. It came again, heavier this time, followed by a wet exhale somewhere down the tail.

  Little Bear shifted the shotgun, his eyes searching the foliage.

  Loni whispered, “That’s got to be another big one.”

  Hector swallowed. “Not another one.”

  “Hurry it up LB.” JJ said.

  They resumed moving as a unit, stepping into the brush where the ground gave way from rock to slick leaves. Then the vegetation ahead parted. It was subtle, but Little Bear saw it. Something had shifted the foliage. Then from somewhere in the fog below the ridge, something heavy took one deliberate step.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The brush below the ridge shifted slowly. Fog clung to the slope in thick sheets.

  Little Bear motioned to the movement below them.

  Hector’s voice came out low. “Great, another one.”

  “Shut it,” JJ said. His rifle stayed trained downhill.

  The blood smear continued in thin streaks over wet leaves, then thickened where something had bumped and rolled. The drag line cut a clean channel through the ferns.

  They descended a few yards, using the slope and the brush for cover without slowing. The ground changed underfoot, less rock, more packed dirt, and then old concrete peeking through moss.

  Little Bear stopped again and pointed.

  JJ followed his gaze.

  Half-hidden in the hillside, swallowed by vines and damp rot, was a maintenance feature: a rusted service access built into the slope. Its outer frame was reinforced steel, corroded but intact, and the vines around it had been torn recently.

  Above it, faded stencil lettering clung to the metal. C.T.

  JJ’s eyes narrowed.

  Hector saw it too. “That’s your desk message.”

  “Yeah,” JJ said.

  “Does that mean the kids made it to the center after the girls entered the tunnels?” Loni asked.

  “Possibly,” Little Bear crouched at the threshold and pointed at the ground.

  The drag marks converged here, two sets of boot prints. One set was deeper than the other, as if the person had been stumbling.

  “Multiple might be injured.” Little Bear murmured.

  Loni’s jaw tightened. “Did they drag one of their injured, or did something else drag one of them i,n and they followed?”

  A chorus of clicking sounded from behind them.

  Hector swept his rifle along the treeline. “They sound agitated.”

  JJ looked down the slope. “They want us, but they’re afraid of the big one.” Another tremor rolled through the ground. JJ shifted, looking back where he knew the big fucker was slowly stalking them. “Let’s go, people.”

  Little Bear rose, shotgun-shouldered, and opened the access door. The edge scraped when he moved it, metal on stone, a sound that rang too loud in the quiet. His light shone into the corridor. From inside, more clicking and soft hisses echoed off the concrete.

  JJ slid in behind him, Little Bear. Loni followed next pistol up, flashlight scanning the dark corners. Hector brought up the rear. He closed the door, wrapping the vine around the handle, then wrapping the other end around a thick pipe.

  Loni’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Well, at least they’ll be in front of us.”

  JJ nodded, his eyes on the corridor ahead. “Let’s go, people, we have ten minutes left to find those kids and call for extraction.”

  Little Bear’s light cut through the darkness, illuminating wet concrete, rusted conduits, and vines creeping along the ceiling like veins. Then his beam caught movement.

  Something darted up ahead, just out of the reach of the light.

  JJ tightened the rifle against his shoulder. “Same as before, quick march single file.”

  Little Bear gave a thumbs up. “Got it.”

  As one, they hurried down the corridor. Dark shapes, staying just out of sight ahead of them, clicking and hissing but always retreating.