Primeval

By Lincoln Reed

Cyrus Montez knelt by the large print in the mud and surveyed the surrounding jungle. “We’re close.”

The native guide, hoisting a spear and wearing nothing but a loin cloth, nodded and waved his arm, motioning for Montez to follow.

“The Phoberomys?” Julie Szubanski shouldered her pack and prepared her DSLR camera. “You really think so?”

Montez nodded. He had never before hunted an extinct animal, much less one that had supposedly disappeared eight million years ago. A full grown Phoberomys resembled a guinea pig the size of a Toyota Corolla, maybe bigger. If the impressions in the mud were accurate, their quest would soon be finished.

Montez was here for the money, not to make a historical discovery. Even so, the mysteries of the jungle held their appeal. He had hunted big game in Africa and North America. The challenge of capturing an elusive pig had its merits. It would look nice on his resume.

With knees popping, Montez stood and slowly switched his Winchester 70 for a tranquilizer dart rifle. “Tracks are half a day old, maybe more.”

“We should tell Nathaniel the good news.” Julie took out her cell phone. “If only we had a decent signal.”

“All the money in the world and the man can’t buy a little patience.” Montez loaded the dart rifle and adjusted his wide brimmed hat. Sweat driblets danced along his scalp.

The hunter replayed the mission in his head. Multimillionaire Nathaniel Leatherwood had hired him to capture an ancient pig. Afterward, they would signal a helicopter using a personal locator beacon. The creature would then—Montez assumed—be put in a zoo, cloned, or perhaps used to quelch Nathaniel’s perverse desire to taste primeval bacon.

Nathaniel didn’t want other hunters to get the Phoberomys before he did. Only a few even knew Julie and Montez were in the jungle.

With the Winchester strapped across his back and the tranquilizer gun in hand, Montez followed their guide deeper into the uncharted Amazon. The native man claimed to have seen the extinct creature. As they made their way deeper into the darkness of the jungle, Montez couldn’t fight an uneasy tension creeping up his throat.

The guide stopped after thirty yards and pointed at the ground, speaking in a tongue that Montez didn’t understand. The fright in the man’s expression and his frantic gestures told enough—something was wrong. Montez’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the canopy enough to discern the cause of concern. Next to the Phoberomys tracks were bipedal prints with three jagged toes. The deep indentations in the mud gave him pause. Impossible.

Montez whirled around. “Julie! Get a shot of this.”

Jungle critters responded. Birds called. Bugs zipped and buzzed.

Julie was gone.

Montez tracked Julie to the edge of the river where she knelt next to the water’s edge, snapping photos of a hairy animal crossing through the current—the Phoberomys.

“Julie.” Montez steadied the tranquilizer. “Don’t move.”

“Monty, it’s so cute… and huge!”

The guide jabbered from behind, but Montez ignored the man’s pleas. “Julie, we should go.”

“Come on, Monty. It’s harmless. I’ll set off the locator beacon. You put the miracle piggy to sleep.” Julie stared at her camera’s screen as she recorded video. “We’re the first humans to ever set eyes on—”

A guttural growl rumbled from the far bank. The roar rattled Montez’s bones and vibrated in his chest. Their guide turned and disappeared into the forest behind them. Montez squinted. That’s no bear. No panther. It’s bigger. Much… bigger.

“Monty?” Julie lowered the camera. “What was that?”

Montez swapped the tranquilizer for the Winchester and loaded a bullet with the bolt action. “I’ll get you a head start.”

“Monty….”

“Julie, run!”

A giant lizard on two legs—as long and tall as a mobile home—emerged from the distant tree line, its feathery hide and green scales acting as camouflage before it splashed into the river, stalking the Phoberomys.

Montez fired. The gun report reverberated into the jungle. Julie jumped and hid behind Montez, quivering as she continued filming. Montez gritted his teeth and reloaded. The reptilian neared the pig.

Julie stammered, “Is it a d-dinos—?”

Montez leveled the rifle against his shoulder and got off another shot. The lizard hissed and dove beneath the green water. The Phoberomys squealed and kicked as the predator’s jaws clamped its throat.

Julie activated the personal locator beacon while Montez took aim once more. Why’d you really send us here, Nathaniel? Were you after a bigger prize? Were we bait, too?

The Phoberomys gave a final cry then disappeared beneath the river. The lizard emerged with the pig’s bloody flesh in its jaws. Bones crunched. The priceless, prehistoric carcass plopped into the water. Its killer remained standing on two legs as wide as tree trunks, tiny arms dangling from its shoulders. Its snout resembled something Montez had once seen in a Jurassic Park movie, with jagged teeth and a snakish tongue.

Montez kept the rifle pointed at the beast. “ETA on the chopper?”

“An hour. Maybe more.”

Montez fired again. The beast closed the distance.

They waited for the helicopter in the branches of a tall tree, far above the reach of the sharp-toothed creature lurking in the river below. Montez counted his dwindling ammunition. If the dinosaur knocked over their hiding spot, what would they do?

Julie clung to a branch while draining the last of her camera battery filming the prehistoric beast. Montez prayed for the sound of helicopter propellers.

“This isn’t real,” he said. “Can’t be.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Julie tapped the camera. “Proof.”

“They’ll say it’s fake.”

“Maybe.” Julie secured the DSLR in her backpack. “But once we get back, Nathaniel won’t stop until he’s solved every mystery of this uncharted paradise. Trust me. He’s the only man we need to convince.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lincoln Reed is an author, screenwriter, and professor. He holds an MFA in creative writing from Miami University (OH). More than 40 of his short stories are featured in online publications and print anthologies. His debut novel and short story collection are forthcoming from Springer Mountain Press.

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