Escape From Dinosauria (Dinopocalypse Book 1) (6 page)

Hunting animals with big guns could make people happy.

Before she could open it again and look at the picture of the supposed daddy-daughter hunter duo, a familiar voice snapped her head around.

Kresevich, the Dos Equis reject, was featured on a large television screen. His collared shirt was open on his chest, and he wore a used car salesman smile on his face.

“The wonders of science have transformed our world dramatically in the past two hundred years.” A montage of scenes played out behind him: atomic bomb explosion, a baby in an incubator, a before/after comparison of a woman who was once obese and had become a beautiful supermodel with massive breasts and a nearly invisible stomach, an advertisement for Viagra, an astronaut walking on the moon, a bald woman smiling while sitting up in a hospital bed. More images behind Kresevich while he talked. “The next miracle of the modern world is here, and the human race will never be the same.”

When Jamie saw the image of the child riding in a saddle on the back of a huge dinosaur that she recognized as a
Triceratops
, the headache behind her eyes suddenly fired a more intense burst of pain into her skull. The creature’s armored head was adorned with namesake three horns; two jutting from near the top of its shield-head, and the other upon its nose.

Kresevich droned on about new possibilities in bio-technology, and all she could think about was the picture in the brochure with the man around a little girl’s shoulders, dead monster at their feet, rifles in their hands.

She glanced around the lobby and found resort maps, cab schedules, a bar, an auditorium, an event center. She walked away from Wayne and Jordan farther down the lobby and felt drunk, nearly swaying on her feet. She hadn’t felt this punchy since the first time she stepped in the cage. The recent fight with Amanda Decker and her next match against Cindy the Leaf felt like dreams or ideas she couldn’t hold on to. The tough fighter who stepped into the cage with Decker and injured her spine was another person; it wasn’t Jamie Rock. Jamie Rock had her shit together.

“Wayne,” she said, “I want to go to my room.”

When she turned around to see Wayne coming toward her, Jordan had entered the pet store and was making casual conversation with whomever he could talk to. His broad, smiling face really pissed her off.

8

As people settled into their seats around the race track, Kenshin closed his eyes and envisioned himself pursuing the path to righteousness and victory.

Satisfied with his vision, he opened his eyes and smiled at the high sun. Less than a year ago, he had stood in the pavilion over Tanaka’s shoulder and marveled at what they had achieved together. Now, the future of what they built was in the pavilion across the track, and Kenshin was not welcome there.

He was a freak.

A bad joke.

Hiding beneath the bleachers and scurrying among the shadows like a rat, Kenshin waited for the roar of the crowd. He waited for the races to begin so that he might be able to speak with young Doctor Israel before it was too late.

Tanaka never wanted the technology to fall into the wrong hands or be used for violent means. He had been corrupted and used, rendered weak by the billions of dollars given to him by the G8 countries. Tanaka had envisioned a means to use his power for good and help people with new bio technology.

Now that technology was about to fall into the wrong hands.

He had heard the rumble of gunfire from the airport. Kresevich’s plan to eliminate a group of activists had succeeded. Seconds were left now. Only seconds.

Popcorn kernels dropped through the bleachers like rain drops finding a canopied jungle floor. Spilled beverages dripped down as Kenshin walked through the dark, sunlight slatted through the bleachers creating stripes of light in the dirt.

He stopped once to peer through as the crowd leapt to its feet. Millionaire moguls with their trophy wives and perfect children had come to attend the race. Gambling and drinking were as much part of the entertainment through the three races.

They wanted to see what their money could buy.

The dragons. The demons from the ancient past. Paraded onto the race track by large-breasted women in bikinis, all of them products of biological enhancement. Everything that walked the track had been modified or created by Tanaka’s money.

The creatures were called
Velociraptors
, but they looked like large reptilian chickens. The beasts were spawned in the same breeding pits that had birthed the first of the serpentine clones. The beautiful women walking beside them were going to saddle them up and race them on the track against each other for the crowd’s amusement.

Announcements were made over a loudspeaker for the catcalls and cheering. The riders and their dinosaurs were introduced.

“…These beasts might seem untamable, but with our latest advancements in bio-technology, they are completely safe and harmless. These ferocious monsters are the larger cousins of the famous
Velociraptors
. Ladies and gentlemen, these are
SINRAPTORS
!”

Kenshin was familiar with all of the beasts because he had made it a habit to study them and understand them. He had always been thorough in his efforts to protect Tanaka, although he had fallen short in the end.
Sinraptors
were between 20 and 25 feet in length and walked on their hind legs. They were fast carnivores, scaly flesh the color of blood spilled on desert sand.

“Our guest of honor is the magnificent Doctor Israel!”

By now, everyone present knew the young genius’s name.

Kenshin stalked through the dark until he could get a view of the pavilion as Doctor Israel’s many accomplishments were announced. In a few moments, as soon as the first race began, the doctor would sneak off with one of the girls. Kenshin had stood next to the nineteen year old many times during these races and knew his habits.

Doctor Israel needed to be predictable one more time.

He crept beneath the bleachers. The race track became a concert; the crowd’s dull roar filled his ears and raptor feet beat against the track as the creatures raced.

In the shadows, he waited. He watched as guards helped vacate the administration booth and move in. He watched as Doctor Israel, thin and lanky African American, led a buxom woman into the booth. This was a ritual. This was expected.

Kenshin used to be one of those guards. The big Russian, Kresevich, never stood guard over Doctor Israel, and today there was a dangerous reason for it.

And then a sight he had not predicted and could not have guessed would happen: Tanaka’s wife, Izanami, stormed toward the pavilion with several guards in tow. She had been hiding for months.

A spike of pain touched Kenshin’s chest. He knew Izanami well. He had stood right beside Tanaka at their wedding and watched her adoring eyes fall upon the man she loved. She was beautiful, tenacious, and intelligent. She had provided Tanaka with a sense of balance because she was not an aggressor, but rather an excellent socialite who could understand people very well. She was a good judge of character, and Kenshin had watched her relationship to Tanaka bloom into a loving marriage that had lasted seven years.

But Kresevich made her part of the game. She was the victim of a terrible game in which she could only blame Tanaka for the injections that had been pumped into her veins against her will. Kresevich had made sure Tanaka took the blame. Tanaka and Doctor Israel.

She was easy to spot. The crowd parted for her as men in suits followed. Were they going to try and stop her?

He needed to get to Doctor Israel first. If she distracted him or caused chaos now, his chances of pulling the young biology master out of here were slim to none.

Now was the time. He climbed to the top of the concessions building and scrambled like a crab, his body pressed against the roof as he moved rapidly. Tanaka had invested everything in Kenshin’s life, including the specialized training they had fantasized about when they were kids, and now Kenshin used it well. He was silent—a ghost. Even in broad daylight he could not be seen.

“Look at that guy, Daddy!”

Kenshin stopped.

He dared not turn his head. He remained still as stone.

“That’s a security guard,” an older man replied to the child.

Time had to be running out. Izanami was only getting closer to the pavilion with each passing second.

Move. Move now. Swift and silent. What difference did it make if someone saw him now? Too much was at stake.

Kenshin risked everything and resumed moving over the roofs. He crouch-leapt onto the roof of a souvenir stand, then moved atop the restrooms, until he was forced to jump for a tree limb. Easy. He grabbed the limb, swung his legs through the air and let his momentum carry him to the next branch. Fast. Move without thought. Move with precision. Move with grace.

And then he was on top of the admin booth.

He opened the trapdoor on the roof, slipped down, and when the brunette’s lipstick-smeared face turned to him, he razor-chopped her in the temple and she instantly sagged to the floor.

Doctor Israel put his hands up. “Whoa!
Shit
, man. What the fuck?” He stared down at the unconscious woman at his feet. “What the
fuck?
You really have lost your goddamn mind. Just chill out for a second, Kenny, all right? Fuckin’
chill.
”

“Pull your pants up,” Kenshin said. “We’re leaving.”

The young man obeyed. “Leaving? For what? You’ve ruined my day, asshole. And what the fuck is that on your hip? Is that…is that a fuckin’
sword?
” Doctor Israel laughed.

“Kresevich is going to take you from this place if we don’t go.”

“Kresevich? That fat piece of shit? Hold on, just
hold on
. You have
no
idea how pissed off I am at you right now, man. That girl was fuckin’…goin’ to
town,
man, you know what I mean? And then you roll up in here looking like goddamn
Jubei Kibagami with that sword you bought from Amazon. You’ve been gone. They said you flipped out and jumped out the fuckin’ hotel.”

“Jubei Kibagami?”

He sighed and threw his hands up in frustration. “Never mind. I ain’t going nowhere. You really did go crazy. Kenny, I never liked you. You’re always so stiff. Like you were buried in one of those suits. Anyway, I got shit to do. So…you mind?”

“Doctor Israel, we cannot waste time. Kresevich has sabotaged the nanomachines in the project. If I do not get you out of here, then Kresevich will torture you. He is taking control of Dinosauria as we speak.”

Doctor Israel laughed. “Oh man, ain’t
that
some bullshit.
He can’t even get close to that shit, man. It’s all heavily guarded. You gonna come in here wearing a fuckin’ Halloween costume and knock out my girl while we were doing something important, and you want me to believe all this…what is it? What the hell are you even saying, man?”

Kenshin’s shoulders sagged. He felt exhaustion set in, and he thought about failure. He thought about Izanami coming closer, and she was just another reminder about how far he and Tanaka had fallen. He had already failed his friend and could not allow that failure to prevent him from salvaging the future, the same future he and Tanaka had dreamed of when they were boys.

Once again, talk had proven to be pointless.

Kenshin kicked the door open and two men turned around sharply.

Their hands were in their jackets.

His hand was on the hilt of his sword.

Everything stopped.

Just.

Stopped.

A woman screamed.

But it was different somehow. It was not a scream of fear or surprise. It was not a scream of delight or panic. It was something that Kenshin had never heard before, and neither did the two security men, both of whom had worked under him. He remembered their names. Time had stopped, and while everything ceased to exist save for Kenshin’s thoughts, the names of the men in front of him did not materialize, though he knew the names. He used to know them. He knew those faces. He knew the names of their wives and mistresses. But his focus was absolute. His carefully-trained mind was as dangerous and precise as a perfectly sharp blade warm with fresh blood. There was only the scream. A scream that distracted these well-trained men from a dangerous man they instantly recognized.

They knew he was dangerous.

But they looked elsewhere, toward the sound of the scream.

And so did Kenshin.

Every human head at the race track was turned to the dinosaurs, as each reptile skidded to a stop in a storm of dust and gravel. The demonic creatures from the nightmares of Kenshin’s ancestors became invisible in a cloud of dust. A reptilian head jutted above the cloud and a primal scream that was not human at all disturbed Kenshin’s focus.

His sword cleared its
saya
. Smooth, soundless.

Both the guards turned to him. “Don’t let him—”