

Southern Hunter

By 'Dangerous' Walker

Copyright Grahame Walker 2014

Published at Smashwords

CONTENTS

OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR

A NOTE ON THE TOWN OF COLLIE AND IT'S PEOPLE

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

EXTRACT FROM OTHER NOVELS

WELCOME TO THE WALKERVERSE (connect to the author)
ADVENTURES IN SPACE

The Trimedian

Tears of War

Strangers

Pray for Rain

The Book of Five Worlds

The Foreshadow of Balance

Five Tasks

The Road between Gods and Monsters

The Haunting of Berkeley Square

In the Valley of Elah

The Library of the Universes (and other tales of the King Imminent)
A NOTE ON THE TOWN OF COLLIE AND IT'S PEOPLE

Collie is a real town in South West Australia, situated exactly as stated in the following novel.

For that reason I should point out that the mines get a somewhat bad press in the beginning of the novel and that was not deliberate, but a way to push the story forward. In fact all the heavy industry around Collie supports the community, not just by supplying jobs, but supporting the town's many events through the year. In the novel Chris Thompson says "I don't want to paint them as evil corporations," and neither does this author.

Being a real place the town has real people, but the characters in this book, main and secondary, are all fictional and any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidence.

Except two.

No novel set in Collie would be complete without Erik at Crank n Cycles and he appears in this book with his blessing, on the condition that Sprocket the cat also appears. Big Sam is also a real person and is as big in real life as in the book. He asked to appear and when you are writing a book about fighting dinosaurs how can you turn down such a behemoth? It's just a perfect match.

The point is that their personalities and actions are written in this novel to fit the story, in real life both these people are lovely, lovely blokes and if they come across as anything else then that is this author's lack of talent rather than a reflection on them.

I would like to say that the Burrunjor is completely fictional, but is it? Strange things survive in the deep wildernesses and on the edge on imagination.
PROLOGUE

It has been said that only ten percent of the Bush remains in Australia since Westerners arrived, but it still covers vast tracts of land. Enough that each year, even in this day and age, people get lost and some die. There is still Bushland that isn't crisscrossed with roads or tracks; areas that no one goes in where undiscovered flora and fauna are living and dying in the circle of life. And it is on such a part of thick Bushland in the South West of that great country that two men find themselves.

"Was this worth the boats?" the man asked sitting in a small area where the undergrowth was sparse enough to set up a little camp.

"It's just for now," his companion answered. "We're illegal, we can't expect a job in a nice office in Perth, can we?"

"No, but this? This, what do they call it?" he raised his arms to the trees.

"Bush."

"I mean we're in the middle of nowhere, no roads, no people. And you hear stuff about Australia, all the dangerous creatures."

"Snakes and spiders are more scared of us than we are of them," the other man said.

"Not when we're asleep. The Sun will set soon and then what? Kangaroos, crocodiles."

His companion laughed.

"One, kangaroos are not dangerous and two there are no crocodiles this far South."

"I still don't like having to sleep out here."

"Well it's just a few more nights. We've marked the trees and surveyed the land, tomorrow we'll start hiking to that track and get picked up. We'll be paid more money for this than we've ever been back home."

They both sat there around the small fire as the Sun sank to the tops of the trees.

"Do you miss it?"

"What?"

"Home."

"We haven't been here long enough to."

"I do," the man shrugged. "This country doesn't smell right, and it's all so, I don't know, neat and tidy?"

The other laughed again.

"It's the food, Australians eat pies and chips and drink beer. They don't cook like us, they don't live like us; you'll get used to it."

"I guess," he said and looked out into the darkening Bush.

He didn't really know what would happen. They had paid a lot of money to get here on a boat and he was glad they were one of the lucky ones, lucky not to die, lucky to land without being caught. He'd rather die than go to a detention centre.

Then they'd been moved around, from here to there, all the while disorientated by their new surroundings and finally he and his friend had been taken to a mining company.

They'd done odd jobs for awhile, they were told they would work on a mine, but couldn't fly there, so they had to wait for a chance to be driven. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a mine you had to fly to, it would have to be in the middle of nowhere, out in what the Australians called the Outback. It would not be comfortable living, but he had to think of the money, and his family back home who would receive most of it.

But instead they'd been taken south to a small town in the hills. It was surrounded by trees, Bush as they called it, and the company wanted them to look at a certain area, mark trees for cutting down so that a road could be cleared. Survey the area where they could to work out the best place for crews to come in and clear land. They were digging a new mine here or something.

He hated it; every minute of it out in this strange Bush with its strange animals and snakes and spiders. Australia was famous for all the ways it could kill you: the animals, the reptiles, the plants, the sharks, or you could just get lost in Bush like this, it went on for ever, the same in every direction.

Was it worth it? Life was hard back home, hard to have enough, but there was television. Television that told you of all the things you could have, should have. The West taught the rest of the World one thing, that you should own more things. More things meant more happiness and where once people had been content with their traditions, now they were unhappy and poor.

Yes, he was the same; that was why he was here. He wanted a good life for his family, he wanted good schooling for his children, but that was never going to happen tending bar to tourists back home. He had to do this for them, he had to remember that. There was a reason for this and maybe, maybe he could get legal, somehow bring his family here; have a good job.

But for now he was stuck in this Bush.

"It's not so bad," his friend said.

"What isn't?"

"This. No distractions, no noise, no complaining wife or begging children, just peace and quiet. And we get paid for it," he relaxed out on his swag.

"I miss them," the man said morosely.

"What is it they say here about glasses being half empty?"

"I don't know what you're talking about; do you really not miss them?"

His friend sat up angrily.

"Why do you think I'm here? For my family, to give them a better life. Of course I miss them, but I know that because I do this they will have a better life."

"I'm sorry," the man said.

The Bush stirred behind him and he looked back sharply.

"Relax."

"What was that?"

"Who knows? We're in a forest."

"What's out there?"

"Nothing that can hurt you."

"That's not true."

"Not this again. Snakes and spiders aren't going to come here and once you're in your, what are they called?"

"Swag."

"Right. It covers you completely, nothing can get to you."

Noise came from the darkening Bush again.

"And that?"

"Wind? A kangaroo? Who knows, but it won't bother us, it's not like they have tigers here."

"No, you're right, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just worried."

"There's nothing out here."

"Not that. I mean this job is nearly over, what if they drop us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we're illegal. We don't have any rights here."

"I don't know, I try not to think of it."

The Sun sank below the tree tops and the spaces between the trees went from bright and beautiful to dark and ominous. Those creatures that lived by the light began to scurry home as those night hunters awoke and readied themselves. Kookaburras flew and called to each other in their distinctive monkey-like laugh. One began to wind up as others joined it until the trees around the men were full of the laughter of the birds, as if mocking the men their fate.

"I'll never get used to that sound," the man said.

"I can't believe they are birds and not monkeys," the other agreed as the birds fell silent as one.

There was a crash in the Bush and the man looked that way.

"Just a tree falling."

"You've an answer for everything."

"Did you never camp back home? Forests make noises."

"I preferred the comforts of the city," the man complained.

The Bush was silent as if waiting to see what might happen next. The man turned back and began to get into his swag, a sleeping bag with a semicircular tent pole at the head so that the person could be completely enclosed. And that was what he wanted now, to be enclosed, shut off from the world and whatever might be out there in the dark.

The Bush rustled and twigs snapped. Something else cracked, a branch maybe and he was sitting up again peering around in the last of the light.

"It's big," he said and saw that his friend was also sitting up.

"Yeah. There are some big kangaroos, maybe we should make a noise to scare it off?"

"Yeah, OK," he replied, though the last thing he wanted to do was make noise out here. It was irrational, he knew, but that wasn't going to take the fear away.

His friend whooped and he cringed before shouting out himself.

They listened. There was not a noise, not the sound of something coming nor something running away.

And then the whole Bush around their little clearing shook and thrashed and he couldn't believe his eyes as a giant head, mouth open, hundreds of razor sharp teeth, burst out of the dark trees and grabbed his friend. His head disappeared into the gaping mouth and it bit into his chest. Two clawed hands appeared and grabbed his friend, tearing him in two. Blood sprayed and poured as the beast flicked its head up to swallow his friend's torso.

He shrieked, struggling up out of his swag, hands up and forward to protect him, as if that would help.

No one knows we're here, no one will ever know or care. We're illegal, was his last thought as he staggered backwards and the giant beast leapt forward and sunk its giant claws into his chest.

BOOK ONE

The Road Out.
CHAPTER ONE

"OK, OK," Chris Thompson said loudly. "You can pack away your things and get ready for lunch."

The chattering became a bustling as students packed books, paper and pens into their bags. There was noisy chatting and laughing, everyone ready for the weekend.

"Come on, calm down and sit. Jason, I said sit. No one is going anywhere until you're all seated."

"What are you doing this weekend, Sir?" a blonde girl sitting at the front asked.

"Well, Kate, I'll be marking. It's a fun life as a teacher."

"I'd never work as a teacher," a boy said.

"You don't work at all, though, do you, Cody?"

"Yeah, just not in this class. English and stuff. I work."

"You know that teachers talk to each other, right?"

"So?"

The bell rang and nothing else mattered but getting out of the classroom and to the canteen. He knew he should tell them to sit down and be dismissed, but it was a losing battle that he didn't have the energy to fight today.

He went to his desk and piled his things together before picking it all up and walking to the door where he had to wait for Tiffany who was still shoving things in her bag. She hoiked it up onto her shoulders and walked past him wishing him a happy weekend and then he was out into the cool air and bright sunlight. He fumbled in his pockets for the key, locked the door and walked across the school grounds that were already full of noise and students. Two things that went together all over the world.

"Yo, Mr Thompson," someone called.

"Hey there, Jim," he called back.

He liked to think he was liked by the students, not when he was teaching them, no one liked being made to study. No that was not true, there were students who wanted to learn, wanted to get somewhere in life, but they were not the majority. Teenage brains just weren't wired to look into the future. Anyway, he still liked to think he was liked by the student body, someone they could talk to and have a laugh with.

It was tough on the kids here; a small town in the middle of the Bush, not much to do and that could lead to boredom which could lead to drugs, alcohol and general deviancy. But it also meant that a lot of them didn't have high aspirations for the future. In the city parents might be lawyers or doctors; they might have office jobs, be accountants, really anything. But here there was only really the mines and the power plants and most kids had a family member or two working there. So what did they aspire to? Working the mines.

Not that that was a bad job, it was just a job the kids seemed to think needed no education, some claimed that their Dad's were illiterate and still had a job on the mines. He wasn't sure if that was true, but there had been a time when the mines of Western Australia had hired anyone because of the demand. Now, from what he heard, they could be more selective and were getting rid of what someone had called 'dead weight'. He wondered what kind of shock might await some of these kids.

He walked into the Humanities office and sat at his desk. He booted his laptop up to check his email.

"Oh, sod the lot of them," Webby said as he walked in.

"Another fun lesson?"

"Aren't they all?"

Chris laughed.

"How do you teach English literature to kids who can barely read?"

"I dunno, mate, I had the same with Geography. I mean, you'd think living in the Bush, they'd be interested in the natural world."

"Would you?"

"Maybe I have high expectations," he smiled.

"Is it like this in England?" Webby asked sitting down.

"Dunno, never taught there, but from what I hear literacy is an issue everywhere."

"So why'd you leave, what's it called? Palaeontology. I know you've told me before."

"No job opportunities. Well, I'd have to do a lot more study to be getting the good jobs and frankly I'd had enough of studying. Maybe I should be more empathetic with the kids," he laughed.

"Tough job, digging holes," Webby shrugged.

"Funny."

"I like to think so."

The office filled up with teachers. Humanities covered English and Society & Environment (that is History, Geography, politics, law and economics), and a number of teachers there taught both.

"Anybody got any copies of the Year 10 History text?" the Head of Learning asked. "There should be one up here on the shelf."

"Did Ellen have it?" Jane Brook asked.

"She doesn't teach year ten."

He didn't teach the tens either and hadn't seen it, so he went to eat his lunch in the staffroom.

"Any plans for the weekend?" Liz asked him.

"Marking."

"Another great weekend," she smiled.

"Shot myself in the foot by putting the test on a Thursday."

"Not the smartest move."

"No. How about you?"

"Going to Perth after school. It's a friend's birthday."

"Cool. At their place or going out?"

"Their place thankfully, I don't think I could afford to go out in Perth."

"I hear that. What about you, Jim?"

"Golf in the morning."

"Of course."

"Then not a lot. Might start on a new beer. Trying to do it all from scratch this time, not use the packets."

"So if I hear an explosion..."

"That'll be me," Jim, an older Science teacher, smiled.

"As long as I get a taste, I don't mind how it gets made."

"That can be arranged, I'm sure."

∞

"Right. Macquarie Harbour. Anyone heard of it?"

He looked at their blank Year 9 faces.

"It's in Tasmania, there was a prison there for convicts who committed a crime either in Australia or on the boat over. It was, allegedly, very harsh conditions and few escaped.

"But there were a few, the Gentleman Bushranger Matthew Brady for one, but I want to tell you the story of Alexander Pearce. The story goes that eight men escaped the prison, but after nearly two weeks in the Bush they were starving and drew lots to see who would be eaten."

"Eaten?" someone cried.

"Yep."

"I wouldn't get eaten, I'd smash them all," another said.

"If you say so, Cameron. Anyway. They drew lots and Thomas Bodenham drew the short straw. One man, Robert Greenhill, had an axe and killed him and at that, three of them ran away and the others ate the body. That left Pearce, Greenhill, Mathers and Travers.

"Now, Greenhill had a friend in Matthew Travers so Pearce knew that it would be him or Mathers to die next so he wanted to make sure it was Mathers by siding with the other two.

Now down to three, Pearce knew he'd be next, but then he got lucky as Travers got bitten on the foot by a snake. They carried him for five days before finally eating him.

"Now we come to the deadly game of cat and mouse, they were both tired and hungry and they had to sleep, but the first person to do so would be dead. They don't say how, but I assume Greenhill fell asleep and Pearce killed him with the axe.

"He was free for about 113 days before he was caught and hanged. So my question to you is, could you survive in the Bush? And how far would you go to do so?"

"I reckon I could," Tristan said. "I go out pigging all the time in the Bush."

"That's a good point," Chris laughed. "You guys living out here would fare a lot better than city kids."

"I'm going pigging this weekend with my dogs," Harry said.

"Well, that's great."

"You don't like it, do you, Sir?" Tristan said.

"Hunting defenceless animals? Sure. Love it."

"They're not defenceless, they have horns," Harry protested.

"They're tusks, idiot," Tristan said.

"Whatever."

"Yeah, those tusks against your guns," Chris said and Tristan laughed.

"We don't have guns, I use my dogs and a knife."

"Well, that's great. Back to the topic, there's a little patch of Bush behind the basketball courts and we're going to go and see what we can find to help us survive. Anything. The lay of the land, the vegetation, even rubbish that's been dropped.

"I don't need to say that if anyone feels that this is an opportunity to mess around, we will come straight back inside."

∞

Back in the office, he reflected how much he liked that class and it had helped that some of the less well behaved kids had been away. That was a tough one, a lot of the kids who needed school the most, wagged a lot, but it was good for the other kids as it cut down on interruptions.

Anyway, they had behaved and a lot of them knew quite a bit about plants to eat; they found hollows to sleep in; branches to help them walk and he had shown them how to make a compass using a stick and the Sun. Still, in the end they knew more about the Bush than he did and as he watched them he wondered if he could survive in the Bush.

Probably not.

He was born in London and had never lived anywhere like this. He had done his fair share of trekking in forests and jungles around the world, but always with a guide. The fact was that the Bush was still a dangerous place, you could still get lost out there and die, even in this day and age, but that didn't stop the kids going out hunting and dirt bike riding in it. To them it wasn't dangerous, just a rich playground.

He put all his stuff, mainly his marking, into his bag and said goodbye to those still finishing off in the office and went home.

They'd been lucky, a house had come up for sale on top of the hill and it afforded amazing views of the town and the Bushland that surrounded it. He was glad that they couldn't see the new road that had been carved into the Bush by the mining company.

It was this view that he stopped to look at when he got out of his car and wondered again whether he could survive out there. Hell, he should probably get out there more, there must be some beautiful walks through the trees, there were definitely paths, but they often spent their weekends relaxing at home after a hard week teaching.

#

They had eaten an early dinner and then cracked open a bottle of wine, as was their Friday night ritual.

"So how was it?" he asked his wife.

"School?"

"Yeah."

"Same as ever, kindy kids cry, poo, sleep and play."

"I wish the same could be said for my kids. Without the poo," he said and she laughed.

"Yeah, I don't think you want to be changing their nappies."

"Actually I wish they would play and sleep less and try to get more of an education."

"I'm sorry, babe," she frowned.

"Ahh, I'm underselling them. Most of them are good kids, it's just that small minority that are either really bad, or really lazy. They just don't see the point, they think they're just going to walk into a job on the mines. I had one say to me today that they would start working in grade 11, when it mattered," he shrugged and took a drink.

"Do you think it's Collie kids?"

"I don't know, I think it's generational, their parents have lived in a boom and can afford to give them whatever they want."

"And now they think they deserve it," Kylie agreed.

"Been told they are special and can do what they like. It's not their fault though; their parents grew up with the postmodernism thinking that if it's good for them then it's good. No objective truths."

"Still hating it?" she asked kindly.

"No. Hate's a strong word and I enjoy actually teaching. Maybe I should have stuck with English as a Foreign Language teaching though."

"You could go back to it."

"Not here, in the city, yeah."

"Would you go back to the city?" she asked before taking a sip.

"Nah. I like it here. It's quiet and different. Perth's just a series of suburbs. I guess the only places I would live back there, we'll never afford."

"Not unless you write that book," she smiled and he smiled back.

"I dunno, maybe it's an English teacher's folly, thinking you can write a novel."

"That doesn't mean you should give up."

"No, I suppose not. Maybe if I get all this marking done I'll get back to it."

He mentally sighed at the thought of marking, but now into his second year teaching at least he had an idea of what was expected for each grade.

"It's better than a lot of jobs though, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah it is. Better than sitting in an office. I do like it, it's just not what I wanted to do with my life."

"And I do feel sorry for you. I chose to be a teacher, you kinda had it forced on you."

"Meh, it's OK. As you say there're a lot of worse jobs out there and it's the weekend. Enough shop talk."

Later he sat alone outside with a bottle of wine as his wife, Kylie, relaxed on the couch with some TV.

He thought about it and, yeah, teaching wasn't so bad. It was a lot harder than most people thought. He supposed that, because everyone went through school, they thought they knew what teaching was like. But they didn't. Of course he could make a load of money by working on the mines, even a low level job paid well, but he couldn't bear the thought of the fly-in/fly-out lifestyle, nor picking up rocks all day for geologists. If only he had studied that at Uni, he'd be making a packet now. But he hadn't, he hadn't done much to further his life until he moved here and did his post-grad in teaching.

And he really thought it would all change. After years travelling the World teaching the English language, he'd gotten married, got a steady job in a small town and was ready for the quiet life. But he wasn't really happy, he still had that feeling he'd always had that there was something more to life, that he didn't want to live and die as just another statistic.

Kylie would reprimand him for such thoughts, would tell him that as a teacher he was shaping kids' lives, giving them the chance to do something in their future and she was right. It was a noble profession, like nursing; the willingness to spend your life giving to others. Not that the students realised it, they had been shocked when he had pointed out that teachers were there because they wanted to help, wanted to teach. They assumed it must be good money as even they realised dealing with teenagers couldn't be much fun.

But he did have fun with them, he tried to keep stuff relevant and interesting, though it was tough with things like Economics or Federation. So, whatever, life was good, teaching was good, he had a wife he loved and who, perhaps more importantly, loved him back and put up with him. He should look on the Brightside more, he had to kick his habit of half-emptiness.

He listened to music and drank his wine and went to bed and dreamt of walking through the Bush.
CHAPTER TWO

The next morning Kylie woke slowly, it was getting to that time in the term when she was exhausted.

She was unfair to her kids, saying that they cried, played, slept and pooped. They were too old for nappies and the days of daytime naps were over, though some were not so keen on that concept. They were good kids at a fun age, but they were just little kids, being away from Mummy for maybe the first time; being expected to learn and not just play. Having to socialise with others and learning how to work with each other. It was a tough time of life, for the kids and the teachers.

But she enjoyed it and if it meant some early nights this coming week, then so be it. It wasn't as if she hated sleep, far from it. The kids might not be allowed to nap anymore, but she would get one in whenever she could on the holidays or weekends. Not today though, she'd already slept in late and Chris was already up.

She showered and dressed and found him sitting outside despite the cool weather. He hadn't yet showered or dressed, which was his norm, and sat in his dressing gown reading the paper.

"Anything interesting?" she asked bending down to give him a kiss.

"Ahh, the mining company says that the road they've cleared through the Bush is finished and they hope to start moving in heavy machinery."

"I don't like it. The State Government shouldn't be selling off the Bushland," she frowned, sitting opposite him.

He poured her a cup of tea from the pot.

"Yeah, there's a lot in the letters page. Some don't want the Bushland spoilt, some don't want more heavy traffic through town, whilst others are welcoming the trade. Particularly the hotels."

"I suppose. It will help the town and supply jobs," she said, "I just don't like how it's done."

She'd got a lot more political since she met Chris, she cared more about injustices that she once would have shrugged at. Not that she didn't care, just that she accepted that it happened and she couldn't do anything about it anyway.

Chris didn't think like that though, he was always complaining about the state of the World and how the rich were running it for their own personal gain. But then he couldn't do anything about it either and she thought that was some of his problem. He wanted to do something to help, to fight the injustices of the World, but he didn't know how or where to start and now that they lived in a small town in Australia it was even harder to do anything.

And now she shared his views, she wished she didn't, it made watching the news a lot more difficult. It made her a lot angrier, but he was right to think that way and she was glad she had met him and his ideals. Maybe they couldn't do much, but as teachers they could instil it in the kids. She knew that was what he did, explained important World events in a way his students could understand, made small town country kids aware of the bigger world out there.

"And some hikers have gone missing," he said. "Says here they stayed in town, but didn't tell anyone where they were going. Some family phoned the local police when they didn't show up back home. Anyone who knows anything, saw them, should ring the police."

She tutted. She'd grown up in Western Australia and when she was younger there was much more Bushland around, more 'roos in the parks of Perth, more places to walk, but now it was all suburbs. She knew the dangers of the Bush, she had been told as a kid not to go too far, what to look out for. You didn't treat the Bush lightly, you didn't just go off walking in it; once you lost sight of the tree line it only took a couple of turns, maybe picking wildflowers as she had as a little girl, for you to lose a sense of which way you had come.

"They searching?"

"Yeah, the rangers are out there now."

"People can be so stupid," she sighed and drank her tea.

∞

Later Chris wandered down to the local library, his own lesson and then these hikers had set his mind to finding out more about the Bush and how to survive in it. It was all around them and a vital part of what made Australia, Australia. He should know more about it, what kind of trees grew, what kind of animals and insects lived out there. The snakes and spiders, hell he should look into the crocs and sharks too; not that there were crocs in the South West, thank goodness.

So he browsed the aisles on Australia and came away with a stack of books, wishing he had driven.

∞

"Hey, Chris," someone called and he turned to see Steve, a fellow Humanities teacher in his car. "Need a lift?"

"Sure," he called back and walked over.

"River's looking full," Steve said as they passed it.

"Been a lot of rain already."

"I hope it's not going to flood this year."

"Unless it closes the school," Chris laughed.

"That'll happen in the holidays, just you watch."

"I've been trying to follow the weather with my year 9s, putting up the weather map with the isobars each lesson since we studied it and getting them to tell me the weather. I'm more interested than they are."

"A common occurrence," Steve agreed. "I don't bother with it too much anymore. Just get them to answer some questions on it and move on."

"Yeah, I should too. I just want them to work stuff out. Hoping that when it rains they can say 'hey, I predicted this, I can do stuff'."

"Good luck on that. The kids that want to will, the kids that don't, won't. That's not a Collie thing."

"I guess not."

"So what is the weather meant to be like?"

"Dunno. Some predict a wet winter, some a dry one. Summer was a bit all over the place."

"Yeah. Still, here we are, home sweet home."

"Thanks for the lift," he said as Steve pulled the car to a stop.

"You know we have this wonderful thing called the internet?" he asked eyeing Chris' books.

"Yeah," he smiled. "But I'll read one site and then the next site will disagree with it and eventually in the comments someone will be compared to Nazis. At least with books you know the writer's an expert."

"At least you hope."

"Enjoy the rest of the weekend."

"Come over for a beer and some dinner."

"Maybe tomorrow if I get all my marking done."

"Ah, yeah, I should do that too."

"Take it easy, mate," he got out of the car and closed the door with his foot, nearly dropping his books.

He balanced them as Steve drove off and then went inside.

∞

Kylie pottered and cleaned while Chris was in his little office marking. They had other bigger rooms in the house, but they were keeping those for guests, Chris' family from England and for a baby.

Hopefully.

It hadn't happened yet.

They'd tried, of course, what young married couple doesn't? But nothing had happened so far and she had begun to worry a little. What if they couldn't have one? They were still young, but they weren't in their twenties anymore. Perhaps they should see a doctor or something.

She shook her head and, took take her mind off of it, picked up the books that Chris had brought home. Bush survival guides and a couple about flora and fauna. Well, this was a new one, but he was a geography teacher and a generally curious guy. Was he taking up Bush walking? Or planning some big trip? Why did he need Bush survival books?

"Got them from the library," he said from behind her.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Just interested, I guess. We both love living here in the Bush, but I know so little about it."

"Fair enough, gonna start taking walks?" she turned and smiled at him.

"Yeah, I really should. You fancy it?"

"Maybe. I don't know that I'll get home from school and want to go hiking."

He laughed.

"No, not sure I will either."

"Get you marking all done?"

"Yeah. They did better than I thought they would, which was good."

"See, they do have brains," she smiled.

∞

The next morning they went to church, a little congregation, but a number of young couples around their age had started coming over the last year and it was lively without being too lively.

"So what's this about missing hikers?" Chris asked Sarah, a local policewoman, over coffee after the service.

"Stupid. They didn't tell us that they were going out or where. We've been asking around town, at the Feddy where they stayed the night, but it doesn't seem they told anyone much."

"Rangers out there?"

"Yeah, and I'm going out this afternoon to assist, but it's difficult to know where to start, we're making a lot of guesses."

"How long has it been?"

"They were supposed to get back on Friday and when they didn't and the family couldn't contact them they contacted us. It seems they've been gone a week, but they should have enough supplies to survive."

"It's crazy to think people can still get lost out there."

"There's still a lot of Bush out there and it only takes one stroke of bad luck to turn a camping trip into a nightmare."

"Hey guys," Big Sam said.

Big Sam lived up to his name, Chris was 6' 2" and Sam towered over him. Must be around seven foot and his hand almost entirely enclosed Chris' as the shook. Sam's bicep must have been as big as Chris' head, he was, Chris thought, the only man to be seen from space.

"Hey, Sam, how's it going?"

"Yeah, alright, I guess. What're you talking about?"

"Those lost hikers."

"Haven't heard about it," he said with a shrug.

"A couple went hiking in the Bush and didn't come back out," Sarah explained.

"That's why I stay on my couch in front of the TV," he replied and Chris laughed.

"You gotta keep safe," he said.

"That's what I'm thinking, it's not laziness or anything," Sam grinned.

"I wouldn't dare suggest such a thing."

"Well, enjoy the TV, I better go and get ready for my shift in the Bush," Sarah said. "Have a good week."

"And how was your week?" he asked Sam.

"Slow."

"Work still slack?"

"Yeah, but it happens. It'll pick up again."

"Will you go out and work on the new mine site?"

"Yeah, I reckon, but not until they start building; laying pipes down and stuff. Might get called up before then just to look, y'know?"

"As long as they pay well," he smiled.

"Chris, can we go? I'm starving. Hey there, Sam."

"Hi, Kylie, how're you?"

"Starving," she smiled.

"Oh, yeah, right. I'll catch you next week."

"Cool, man, have a good one," Chris said and they left.

∞

After lunch Kylie was prepping lessons for the coming week and Chris took the chance to go for a walk. He walked down Wittenoom Street to the High School and then onto the oval and down to where he had taken his class on Friday. Here the river wound close to the school and he wandered down onto the path there. He looked around at the trees, it was cold but sunny and the Bush looked beautiful. He smiled to himself, it was hardly the deep Bush, there were paths all around here and he was always close to a road. Still, when you looked into the trees you wouldn't know that and it was a start.

He had read some of his books and memorised some of the plants to look out for, ones you could eat or get liquid from. That was the key, liquids. The river was quite wide, but he didn't know how clean it would be for drinking and you never knew what might be dead upstream in a brook or stream in the Bush. At least there were no crocs; up North drinking from a creek or billabong was a no-no unless you wanted to get eaten.

So he meandered along the path next to the river lost in thought; no the biggest faunal danger in the Bush would be snakes followed by spiders. Despite what people around the World think about Australia, very few people die of snake bites and no one has died of a spider bite since 1979. However, this is due to anti-venoms and deep in the Bush and Outback the danger increases as the time it takes to get to a hospital increases.

It doesn't matter where you are, in town or in the Bush, when walking through long grass you stamp your feet, you make noise and any snakes ahead of you will most likely slither off before you reach them. As for spiders, just don't stick your fingers in places you can't see.

So, no, he wasn't worried about snakes and spiders, in fact the biggest killer of people who get lost in the Bush, and more especially in the Outback, is dehydration. Wandering lost for days without water was the biggest danger he was going to face out in the Bush of the South West. Not that he had any plans to go Bush walking, it was too cold and wet to be camping and school was too tiring at this time of year, but he wanted to know that he could, wanted to know more about the wildlife that surrounded him. In a way he felt that if he learned more about it he would somehow become more Australian; if he knew more than most Australians then that sort of gave him a claim to be here, not just a Pom that moved here.

He looked at the grasstrees, once (and still sometimes) called Black Boys due to people thinking they looked like Aboriginal boys holding spears, and remembered what he had read. The Aboriginals used grasstrees, which they call balgar, for lots of things. They ate it, they drank the nectar; they used the stem as a fishing spear and even mixed glue using it. He walked over to one to have a better look, see if he could identify the parts he could use, but there were no flowers at this time and he didn't want to damage the plant so he walked on.

It really was beautiful, even just here so close to town. He was always amazed at how even small patches of Bushland, when in them, seemed to go on forever, cut you off from the rest of the world. Here there were birds chirping and the sound of the running river and only the occasional sound of a car in the distance. He was sad that so much of it had gone for towns and roads and industry and he was sad that even more was going for the new mine.

Not that he didn't use electricity, not that he wanted to live a subsistence life, no, he liked his things and was happy to have them. It was an eternal quandary, how to treat nature better but keep all the appliances that made the modern world what it was.

Though it was foolish, he sometimes worried that the present global warming was the apex between ice ages. How would he survive if the world that he had grown up in was taken away from him? Could he cope without electricity? Would he adapt or die?

It was with these thoughts that he hit the road, civilisation, and turned along the pavement homewards.

∞

Around this time Sarah was walking through the trees with a combined group of police and rangers. Mostly rangers as there were not that many police in such a small town and some had to stay at the station.

They walked along in a line with a few dogs sniffing the way, but it was next to impossible, she already knew that. The dogs didn't have anything to get a scent from and they didn't even know if this was the way the hikers had come.

But there was hope. The time frame told them that, if they were wise, the hikers had enough food and water for three days. If they had become lost they might have preserved those provisions, in fact even if they hadn't they should still be alright for another day or so. A different story if it was summer, but it was cool and had rained recently.

The biggest hope, however, was that they were still close enough to town to hear the search party and move towards them rather than continuing to move away. There wasn't much time left though, the light would fade and they would have to call the search off, returning tomorrow. Then they would go further into the Bush, probably using the Bibbulman Track, loop round and head back into town. Preferably they would have had people doing that today and meet in the middle, but they didn't have enough people and it was thought that in three days the hikers wouldn't have got far.

"This is hopeless," a ranger near her said.

"I agree," she sighed, "but we can't go back to the family saying we didn't bother looking."

"Guess not," he shrugged and kept walking.

It was sad to think, but at least this was a little different from her normal work. At least she got a chance to walk through the trees. Collie was generally a nice town with nice people, but there were problems. Weren't there anywhere? It is just more prominent in a small town, harder to not see or hear about. She usually had to deal with domestic abuse, drugs and alcohol related offences and sometimes vandalism. Theft was another big one, but a lot of the crimes were committed by teens and often amongst themselves, in fact Collie had a number of large families, sometimes linked by marriage so they might have a different surname, but still one family. It meant you had to be careful what you said about who to whom. But it also meant that people generally knew who was doing what and were willing to have it sorted out.

Teens in small towns normally got up to no good out of boredom, but a lot of older residents were thinking of their best and the good of the town. Once she even had a woman bring her own son into the station. He'd been stealing and she'd decided he needed to pay for his crimes, and hopefully learn from it.

Man, it sounded like a rough place when you looked at it that way, but it wasn't, it was a nice town. It had a bad rep in the city and it was well deserved once, but not anymore. People cared about the town, people were proud of it. Her friends couldn't believe she would want to live in Collie and wanted her to come back to the city, but she wasn't ready for that yet. Wasn't ready for the kind of crime she would have to face there.

"Hey," she was dismissed from her thoughts. "We're calling it a day."

"Already?"

"Yeah, by the time we get back it'll be getting dark."

"I suppose."

"What're you doing tonight?" the ranger asked her.

"Dunno."

"Some of us are going to the Feddy if you want."

"Yeah, why not," she was cold and tired, maybe a drink would be nice.

∞

She got to the Federal Hotel, or Feddy, after a shower and a bite to eat to find the rangers at a table outside, drinking and laughing. She wasn't sure she wanted to go and sit with them, she didn't feel in the mood for laughter. She had to admit to herself that after tomorrow they would believe the hikers dead and halve the search team.

Well, she couldn't just stand here like a lemon but then spotted Chris and walked over.

"Hey, there," she said.

"Oh, hi, Sarah, want to join us?"

She looked over at the table of rangers and nodded.

"If that's alright."

"Sure. You know Kyls. This is Steve and Jayne, Steve's a teacher at the school."

"Nice to meet you," she smiled as she sat.

"What brings you here alone?" Kylie asked.

"Oh, I should go and sit with the rangers, they invited me after the search."

"How'd it go?" Chris asked.

"Not good."

"What search?" Steve asked.

"Two missing hikers," Sarah told him.

"You think they're dead?"

"Who knows? They shouldn't be, they should have enough food and water to survive up to now. I really thought we'd find them today, they couldn't have got far."

"Unless they're still walking away from you," Chris said.

"That's a horrible thought, that you're lost and walking away from your saviours," Kylie said.

"The rangers don't seem upset," Jayne said looking over at them.

"This is part of their job, they usually find them and they think there's still a good chance of finding them tomorrow," Sarah explained.

"So, sorry, why are you looking for them?" Jayne asked.

"I'm a police officer," she replied.

"Ahh."

"You probably know some of our students then," Steve grinned.

"Unfortunately so," she grimaced. "But usually only for normal teenage stupidity."

"We've all been there," Chris smiled.

"Speak for yourself, I was a good girl," Jayne protested.

"Really?" Steve asked eyebrows raised.

"Well, OK, maybe not," she laughed.
CHAPTER THREE

"So, I'm not going to ask you if you do, but most people these days in Australia and the West don't believe in God. Why not?"

"Because it's stupid," someone called out.

"Well, it was a rhetorical question, but fair point. Most people think the idea of a god or aliens or ghosts are stupid. Why? Hands down. Hands down. Thank you. The reason is we live in an age of science.

"Science explains a lot of things and scientists, or at least scientific people tell us that, to science, these things are stupid. But they haven't actually proven them to not exist. They haven't given us any evidence, but we believe them anyway. It's our worldview.

"The reason for saying this is that our world views are still being shaped by other people even with no clear reasons. This is what we call advertising."

He looked around the class. OK, he had lost some of them with talk of God and worldviews, but some were still focussed.

"For instance, women did not shave their armpits until 1915 and their legs until later," it was interesting to see some of the Year 8 girls grimace at the idea; so old so young.

"Why not?" one girl asked.

"Well, why do you shave your armpits and legs? I mean if you do at your age, I don't want to know."

"Because it's gross," another girl said.

"Right," he said. "But it's gross because society tells you it is, in fact it was the rise of the sleeveless dress that set off a marketing campaign to get rid of underarm hair. They basically told women they had a problem they never knew they had and everyone bought it."

"So are you saying you wouldn't mind if women didn't shave?" a boy, Scott, asked.

"No. I think it's gross too because I've been conditioned the same as everyone else. The point is that advertising has a massive effect on us and I want to have a look at how and why."

"Are you saying we should believe in God?" a girl asked.

"No," he replied. "Those kind of things are for you to decide."

"He's saying we should have an open mind," a girl said.

"Yes, Rose, that's exactly it, we shouldn't accept things because people tell us, we should work things out ourselves."

"Do you think aliens exist?"

"No, because I've never seen any evidence to prove it."

"But you think they might?" another asked.

"I don't know, personally I think the World is a weirder place than we think. But on to advertising. Let's look at some and how they work."

∞

Sarah sat at her desk. The search had been called off having done another couple of days searching; each day with less people committed to it. It didn't make any sense, they really shouldn't have been able to get that far into the Bush, they wouldn't have been weak and starving and if they had they would have had to stop, increasing the chance of the searchers stumbling onto them. Generally people got lost because they ended up going around in circles, which would have increased their chances of finding them.

The only thing she could think of was that they had gone into another part of the Bush that they had somehow not covered, but even then this was one couple they should have found. She looked down at the map that she had on her desk. She had calculated just how far they should have gotten in any direction based on normal walking speeds and hours of daylight. There were concentric circles with Collie at the centre for each day, considering they walked in a straight line for six hours each day. By today in two directions they would have hit a road, one more was just Bush and the last they should have come across the new mine site. They would have had to cross the roads, they couldn't miss them, but it was galling to think that they might have walked within a few kilometres or less of the new mine site and missed it. Surely they would have heard machinery? Was there any out there at this point? If they had gone in the last direction there was no way she could go and have a look, but she could drive up to the mine and have a wander, call out to them. Today would be the day they passed near as long as they weren't walking in circles.

She decided to take a drive out there, her shift had just finished anyway.

∞

Chris closed down Google and sat back in the Humanities office. He was supposed to be using this DOTT period to plan, but was instead trying to find out any information to back up what Big Sam had told him the night before.

His wife Stacey had taken their daughter up to Perth for a few days to see family and they had invited him over for dinner. Afterwards they sat with a beer.

"So they've called me up," Sam said.

"Who?"

"The mine."

"To check out the new site? Cool."

"Yeah, it makes life a lot easier for us in the long run, y'know? Helping to put everything in in the first place."

"How long's it for?"

"Dunno yet, but the pay's good."

"That's good, man, you need a regular pay check again."

"Yeah, I dunno," Sam looked into his beer bottle.

"No? You don't like money?" Chris smiled and Sam smiled back at him.

"It's not that, man, I need the money, it's just..." he trailed off and Chris became intrigued.

"What is it?"

"You'll think it's stupid," Sam shrugged into his beer.

"I think lots of things are stupid, doesn't stop me wanting to know them."

"There're stories," he looked Chris in the eye. "You can't tell anyone about this, man, I shouldn't even know."

This was weird, Sam wasn't one for acting like this; paranoid, worried? He usually let life slip off his back, accepted the ways life went and tried to do his best at what he was asked. Now he was withdrawn, scared almost.

"I won't tell anyone, it's cool. What stories?"

"Well, man this sounds dumb, but people have gone missing."

"You mean the hikers?"

"No. Did they find them?"

"Not that I've heard," Chris shook his head and Sam copied the gesture.

"A guy up at the site, did you hear about it?"

"No. Wait, something about getting hit by a tree branch."

"Yeah, gum tree branch fell on him, you believe that?"

"Well gum trees have been known as 'widowmakers' due to dropping large branches without sound or warning."

"Right. I didn't know that."

Chris shrugged.

"I'm learning a lot about Australia teaching Geography."

"Course. How's that going?" Sam asked.

"Let's finish your story first."

"Right. Well, that was the story, but people working up there reckon that anyone who was working that day got a decent pay off and the family got one too."

"What are you implying?"

"Me? Nothing. It's just talk that some of the guys got some extra money and people wonder maybe the story isn't true."

"Do they say what actually happened?"

"Just talk, they're real cagey so it's rumours. Supposedly this guy drunkenly told this other guy in secrecy that the guy went off into the Bush and never came back."

Chris narrowed his eyes.

"That's not really worth covering up."

"No, I suppose, but no one went looking for him; you know if he had got lost they would have just called for him, he would have heard and come back, right?"

"I guess, yeah."

"But they did, kinda. Look this sounds stupid, OK?"

"OK."

"They reckon that he went for a piss or something, it was late and they had had some beers before going home. They heard noises in the Bush. Loud noises, branches breaking and stuff. They thought it was a joke and ignored it. After awhile they went to look for him, but found nothing."

"It does sound far-fetched and it is just rumour, you know how myths and legends start, man."

"Maybe. There's another story too. Two guys went out to mark the trees that would be cut for the road. It was a bit of a stunt to show that the company weren't cutting down any more trees than strictly necessary. Also, I guess, to check the planned route was flat enough for the road. Anyway, they never came back out."

"Come on, Sam, we would have heard about that."

He shook his head.

"No. Rumours are they were illegals, no one knew they were there, they weren't on any official documents."

Chris laughed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but it does all sound a bit like a bad novel, don't you think?"

Sam shrugged his huge shoulders and finished his beer.

"I guess, I don't really read. The guys seem pretty serious about it though."

"I dunno, mate, I wouldn't worry about it, just, y'know, put Vegemite behind your ears before you go out there," he grinned.

"I don't get it."

"Vegemite behind the ears is meant to ward off drop bears," Chris told him still grinning and now Sam smiled too.

"Piss off."

∞

There was nothing online about it except for a brief report in the Collie Mail stating that a worker had been hurt due to a falling branch and that the mining company had said they would reimburse the man's family.

He opened the Year 9 textbook, but couldn't concentrate. It was so unlike Sam to act that way even if his story seemed outlandish. Getting killed by a tree branch was exceedingly unlucky, but not entirely out of the question, it was just probability. The more people you had spending more time in the Bush, the more likely it was that one person would get hit by a falling branch, or get bitten by a snake, or find a new species like they had in Queensland. What did they call it? 'Queensland's Lost World', like the Conan Doyle novel.

Still, he thought he might pop down to the Collie Mail and have a chat, see if there was anything fishy. He didn't know why he should, other than curiosity and the love of a good mystery. Part of him hoped that there might be more to it, something for him to dig into and uncover; the start of a great adventure. He smiled to himself and wondered when, if ever, he would grow up.

∞

Sarah drove up the wide dirt road that had been cleared for the mine. It was empty, though she could see the tire tracks of heavy trucks and she wondered how far along they were. She knew they had cleared the site, but were they building? Or digging? She knew little to nothing about mining despite living in a mining town.

It wasn't actually something you came into contact with in town other than the coal trains going through and the men and women in their high-vis jackets, and even then a lot of them were tradies, not miners. When you thought of a mining town you thought of it being dirty, poor, and working class. Insular. But Collie wasn't like that, it was a clean, pretty town for the most part, though she wished the local government would do a bit more in its upkeep. Everyone back in Perth thought Collie was a hole, a nasty place to live and she was glad of that, it kept it a secret from everyone else. No holiday homes here, no tourists. Though they could do with that tourist money too. It seemed you always had to sell out to get the money to do something good. Like this mine.

It was destroying the Bushland, but it would bring jobs and money into the town, maybe get a few more police officers, though she knew that most of the new workers who would move here would live in the city of Bunbury, down the hill.

The clouds had moved over since she had set out and now the first few drops splashed onto her windshield. That was great, if it poured now her chances of getting far into the trees was minimal.

She drove up to the site and was amazed at quite how big the area was. It made sense of course, it was a mine site, but she had just never imagined the scope and it looked bigger now without any buildings bar a few demountable offices and one or two diggers.

She pulled up and got out in the hardening rain. She ran over to one of the demountables that was labelled as the foreman's office and checked in with him. She didn't have to, but she wanted them to know that she was wandering about out there. The foreman didn't seem too interested and, finding out she was a copper, told her to do as she pleased, the site was safe at the moment.

She got back into her car and pulled out her map. Looking from it to the trees she decided where the hikers might be walking if they were walking this way and got back out. She left the map in the car as the rain was a steady pour and ran to the trees for shelter. The rain was lighter here, but not by much and she started on a straight line into the trees, constantly turning back to make sure she was going in a straight line and then started calling out their names.

Slowly walking forward, calling, checking behind her, changing course to keep the tree line directly behind her. The rain was really hammering down now even in the trees and it was difficult to see. She started to worry that she would lose sight of the tree line; that she would get lost along with her quarry. She stopped and shouted out another few times, shouted that they should come to the sound of her voice.

It was useless, she couldn't stay out in the rain much longer, but what if they were following her voice and then she stopped? She was about to turn and leave when she thought she heard noise in the Bush and she shouted towards it, shouted loud over the noise of the rain and she thought she heard more noise, but it was hard to know where it was coming from. She shouted again and listened.

There was a loud crack of a tree branch or trunk. Loud even over the rain. Too loud. She peered in the direction she thought it came from and there was movement still some way deeper in the trees and undergrowth, but she didn't shout again, something constricted her throat. The Bush swayed and rustled and there was another large crack and she could see a tree fall in amongst the others and the ground seemed to shake.

Her mouth had gone dry and she took a moment to try and remember what she was doing there. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest and then it was in her ears and she found that she was running. Blindly thrashing through the undergrowth hearing nothing but her heart, seeing nothing but the rain until she burst out into the clearing. There was no one there and she ran to her car, fumbling with the door handle before she wrenched it open and fell in, locking the doors behind her.

She sat there soaking wet and panting and then looked back out into the rain. Was it that, the rain running down the glass, that made the Bush look like it was moving? She didn't think, she stuck the key in the ignition, fired it up, skidded around in a semi-circle and blasted back down the road.

Constantly looking to her left, watching the undergrowth move along with her. Was it? Was it just the wind, the rain? Putting her foot on the gas more than she should, hurtling down the wide dirt road, thrashing trees following alongside her. There was a thud and she saw a tree fall across the road in her rear view mirror and then the T-junction was upon her and she hit the brakes and skidded right, swerving up the road until she straightened up and eased off the gas.

Her heart was pounding, her body shaking and she didn't even know why.

What had scared her?

And as she slowed the car she started to worry that it had been the hikers running to her for salvation and she had left them, got confused in the rain, and had somehow scared herself badly. She took deep breaths as she approached town and slowed further. That was not like her, she was a police officer, she had to face hard situations all the time and not lose her cool. If it had been the hikers they would surely now find the mine site, maybe she should go back? Her mind thought it, but her body kept her going straight until she turned left and then right onto her own road and suddenly she found herself parked in her driveway and getting out. The rain had eased as she opened her front door and went straight through to the bathroom and a shower.

∞

Later she would sit in her pyjamas at the table with a bottle of whisky, no shifts tomorrow, and try to forget the day. Her mind was now rationalising how she'd let emotions sweep her up. Stress, loneliness, the primeval fear of forests and jungles, the rain disorientating her vision and hearing.

Loneliness, she smiled and took a sip. She wished she had someone to share this bottle with. She wished that Chris had moved here single. She felt bad thinking it as she liked Kylie, she just wished she might have found him first. Or someone like him, hell, she smiled to herself, anyone at this point. She took another long gulp and felt the heat rise in her face.

∞

"Nothing suspicious, no," Tim, the journalist at the Collie Mail, had told him.

"You haven't heard anything around town?" Chris asked.

Tim laughed.

"I've not been here long enough to hear the local gossip, sorry."

"How long have you been here?"

"Just a couple of months."

"Right."

"What's this about?"

"I don't know. It's a small town, you hear stories, rumours. It's probably nothing."

"Come on, let me know," Tim coaxed.

"No. I'm not spreading stories about the mines to the press, they'd hang me out to dry."

"They got that much power in town?"

"Honestly, I don't know and I'm not trying to paint them as evil corporations. A lot of people in this town have their livelihoods with the mines and power stations, I won't mess with that."

"Fair enough. If you do find a story though, let me know, huh?"

"Will do. Catch you later."
CHAPTER FOUR

Chris decided to wander across the road to Crank 'n' Cycles, the town's local bicycle and toy shop. It was an odd combination, half one and half the other, but did a great trade because of it. Collie is both in a river valley and on the Darling Range, an escarpment that runs North-South from just north of Perth all the way down to the south coast and this geography makes it a great place for both cyclists and motorcyclists to ride the winding roads up and down the hill or take their bikes off-road into the Bushland.

Chris didn't cycle, though he was now considering getting a mountain bike to explore the Bush tracks, but he knew Erik, the owner, quite well and popped in for chats when he was around. As he walked in he nearly tripped over Sprocket the cat who apparently did what he pleased in the shop, including laying in the doorway.

"Hey, there, young man," Erik greeted with a bike wheel in one hand and a 15 inch spanner in the other.

He always called him that despite surely not being that much older than Chris. Maybe he just exfoliated or something.

"How's it going?"

"It's good. Got a good ride coming up this weekend."

"On or off-road?"

"This one's on, a slog up the hill from Bunbury and finishing here."

"Sounds good, though not something you'll catch me doing," he smiled and Erik laughed. "Though I may invest in a mountain bike quite soon."

"What are you thinking?"

"Just exploring the Bush a bit more. I want to get out and do some walks first, but then maybe head further on a bike."

"There's a lot of good biking trails out there. How's school?"

"Oh, y'know. Teenagers."

Erik laughed.

"It's been a while since I was one of them."

"Same here and teaching makes me realise how glad I am not to be one anymore. Weird time of life."

"Yeah, I think I'll stick to bikes, it's an amazing job you guys do, but I couldn't do it," he smiled.

That was one thing about Erik, he was always smiling, always seemed to be in a good mood. Chris guessed that if he got to make a living through something he loved, then he'd be smiling everyday too.

∞

Mary Cole was exhausted. This was her first proper cycle, the longest she'd ever done and it was uphill. She was definitely in last place, nobody had overtaken her for what seemed like hours, hell the whole race seemed to be taking days as she thought of nothing but peddling. Ignoring her exhaustion, ignoring the hot pain in her leg muscles, sometimes singing to herself, sometimes just counting. She didn't mind coming in last, she hadn't entered to win, but to finish, to complete her first race and to build on it. She loved cycling and the extra challenge of racing brought a whole new, exciting aspect to it.

And she wasn't far from that goal, the hill was less steep now that she approached Collie and the worst was behind her. She couldn't believe she had gotten this far, made it up the steep hill that was Coalfields Highway. Her Mum had been worried about it, the Highway was often cited as Western Australia's most dangerous road though she didn't know if that was still true. She had calmed her Mum by reminding her that precautions were taken, that this was an organised event, people knew cyclists were on the road, she'd passed numerous signs to that effect.

It was then that she noticed that the trees and undergrowth next to her seemed to be shaking. Just the wind, except the rest of the trees didn't seem to be moving. She couldn't keep her mind on it though, just on the last great push to get up the hill and now the rustling seemed to be just ahead of her and moving. She focussed on it as if following it, yes, she had a guide home. Just keep chasing after the Bush as it guided her home.

She fell into a trance, watching the Bush, the road, but not really seeing either, peddling, but not thinking, doing everything in automatic, she didn't even notice when the Bush stopped shaking up ahead of her. And as she passed by, the explosion of noise shook her to her senses brief seconds before Mary Cole's senses were stopped for good.

Her bike carried on for less than a metre as her disembodied legs continued pumping the pedals before there was not enough momentum and the bike wobbled and fell. The legs twitched as blood pumped from the torn waist and then lay still.

#

"That's awful," Chris said.

"Yeah," Webby agreed.

"Did they catch the driver?"

"Nope. And no one saw a car coming into town, must have gone down a side road, skirted the town, who knows? They reckon the driver must've been drunk."

"People like that should be strung up," Chris said angrily.

"I can think of worse things to do to them. But check your email, there's a list of kids who were friends and will either be away or in shock and stuff."

"She was a good kid. I only taught her for some relief lessons, but she seemed bright.

"Yeah, I taught her in Year 8, haven't taught her this year."

"Man. It shakes you up doesn't it?"

"Life is fragile," Webby shrugged as others started filtering into the office.

∞

"How you doing?"

"Not great," Erik frowned.

"No."

"How was school?"

"Lot of kids away, a lot were teary and had a free pass to Student Services."

"I just can't work out how it happened," Erik shook his head. "We did everything right."

"You can't blame yourself, man, no one can plan for a drunk arsehole."

"I know, I know, but it doesn't help much."

"No, I guess not," Chris frowned.

"And no one even saw the car, no one's found it."

"The police are out there?"

"Yeah, came to talk to me, more out of sympathy than to question me."

"They'll find him or her, if they disappeared there's a good chance they lived locally and just drove home."

"You think they'll turn themselves in?"

"It's a hard thing to just live with and people won't harbour the person if they know. Your partner or kid turns up home drunk and the next day you hear a drunk driver killed a kid on a bike?"

"Yeah, I guess," but his voice betrayed his sadness.

"Look, I better go."

"Yeah. Of course. Look, thanks for stopping by, Chris."

"Anytime, mate. I'll see you."
CHAPTER FIVE

They had finished a little early and packed away and he sat at his desk while they chatted. The bell went.

"OK, off you go, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't forget the test on Thursday," there was a collective groan as they got up and wandered out.

"Sir?" it was Tristan.

"What's up?"

"I went pigging on the weekend, right?"

"OK."

"Well, we found something and I wanted to show you, but all that stuff with Mary," he trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"Well, it didn't seem right, y'know?"

"I get that, Tristan, what was it though?"

"Right, yeah. It's on my phone, can I get it out?"

Chris smiled. Taking a phone out in school would get it confiscated until a parent came to pick it up. The very question showed just how good a boy Tristan was.

"This time."

Tristan took his phone out of his bag and started playing with it.

"Here," he passed it to Chris, it was a photo. "There's a few, you can go through them if you swipe like..."

"I can use a phone, dude, I'm not that old."

"Right, sorry."

The photo seemed to show a footprint. A large three toed footprint.

"What's this?" Chris asked.

"It's a footprint, I dunno what it is, do you think it's a crocodile?"

"You think we have crocs this far south?"

"Well, no, I don't know. Could one get down here?"

"No, I don't think so."

"So what do you think it is?"

"I think it's a great joke, Tristan."

"What?"

"Very funny, but I'm not falling for it," Chris smiled handing the phone back.

"It's not a joke," Tristan frowned.

"You know I was a Palaeontologist so you and your mates dug a footprint. Very good."

"No. It's not a joke and there wasn't just one. Honest, Sir."

Chris looked at him. He didn't seem to be joking and it wasn't like him anyway. But maybe that was the catch, send up a student who he'd believe.

"Let me look at it again," he said whilst clicking the Google icon on his computer.

He took the phone and looked through the photos, they weren't great, but he could see that they were more detailed than he thought Tristan and his friends could manage.

"So?" Tristan asked looking at the door. It was lunch after all.

"Well, if you're not joking me, it looks like a dinosaur footprint."

"Really?" Tristan asked with surprise, the door forgotten.

"If it's real then you could be rather famous around here, finding fossilised footprints. There's some up near Broome."

"Really?" Tristan asked excitedly.

"Look," he said seriously, "there are two things here. One, don't tell anyone. I need to go and have a look and if it's nothing you'll look stupid and if it's something we don't want every man and his dog going up and destroying it. Two, you need to show me on Google maps where it is."

Tristan walked around the desk as Chris brought up a map of the area. He then got up and moved away to let Tristan search.

"There. That's the trail, we always go there, that's why I know. We parked there and when we got back we found them. Well, the dogs did."

Chris marked the area and then screen grabbed it.

"I have to go on duty, but I'll go and have a look tonight, if I can. OK?"

"Yeah. Cool. Thanks."

"Remember, just don't tell anyone yet."

"I won't," he said, grabbed his bag and left.

Chris quickly saved the screen grab to his USB stick and then went to find his lunch.

∞

After school he printed the screen grab with the location of the footprints still half believing it was an elaborate joke and he'd find something stupid or disgusting there instead. The boys were probably sitting together now laughing about it. He drove out of town and was quickly surrounded by trees. He flicked his eyes down to the map on the passenger seat, he didn't want to miss the dirt road he was supposed to turn off on. It was quite a way out of town and he once again thought about how little he went out in the Bush while his students spent so much time in there and deep into the trees too, further than he'd ever dared venture. It made him feel a little pathetic not doing something that teens were quite happy to do, being wary of the Bush when they revelled in it, fishing, hunting, camping, dirt biking. But then they had grown up with it, he had grown up in England. There was nothing even remotely like it there.

There was the turn, he thought, he hoped. He turned left onto it and drove slowly along the unsealed road; that was another thing that amazed him coming here, there were still a lot of unsealed roads, not just tracks going into the Bush like this, but wide roads that went between towns. And that was OK, it wasn't a sign of backwardness nor poverty, just that it was seen as unnecessary, they'd been like that since forever and nobody felt the need to change them.

Now he slowed further looking for another turn off that would take him further into the trees and he hoped that he wouldn't get his car stuck. He'd toyed with the idea of getting a 4WD, but had never done anything about it and now he wished he had. Wait. He braked and then reversed a little. He checked the map and decided that this was the turn. It was only just wide enough for a car, but he could see tire tracks so he turned and drove slowly along it until, after ten minutes or so, he could go now further.

He got out and looked around, he hoped that he hadn't driven over the footprints. If they existed. He walked around the car looking at the floor and yes, there it was. He couldn't believe it and just stood there staring at it. It was right next to the car, so he got in and reversed a little way before returning to the footprint. He got down on his haunches and looked at it; it was definitely dinosaur looking, three toed with holes at the tips of the toes where claws would have dug in. And it was big. Bigger than a croc, even a Saltwater crocodile or Saltie

He put his palms to his eyes and rubbed them. As he took his hands away he saw stars and stared at the print. Gingerly he touched the edge of the print and earth fell inwards, the print being at least two inches deep. That shouldn't have happened, this should be rock hard to be preserved. He stood up and looked around, yes, there was a second print. He crouched again and inspected it. Same as the first including the soft ground. Could they really have survived millions of years like this? It seemed inconceivable, especially with people coming and going from this site in cars and Utes. Tristan had said they always came here. He looked to the undergrowth that was close here and yes, there was another print disappearing into it. He got up and took a few steps back.

It was insane to think so, but considering where he had originally parked his car and taking that as the spot others parked, the footprints looked as if a dinosaur had walked up to the car and then left.

He shook his head; that was a crazy coincidence. Still, no more crazy than dinosaur footprints, no more crazy than the fact that these prints seemed to be fresh. He had seen fossilised footprints before, studied them at University and most recently they had gone up to Broome during the last winter holiday and seen the ones there. They were amazing, so well preserved and coming from five different dinosaurs, but they were altogether different to the ones he was looking at here. You could tell that the Broome prints were old, but these looked new, like they had just been made and that was impossible. But it was also impossible for them to have survived millions of years like this, in a place where people frequented, never spotted until this weekend.

Could it be possible? His head swam with his thoughts.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he started taking photos with his phone; he wished he'd brought a proper camera and a tape measure, but he hadn't believed them to be real. But real they were, there was no way a couple of Collie teens could have faked these prints this well. Or could they? Using the Internet? No. And it was just too much effort for one joke. But he couldn't underestimate them. He couldn't think, couldn't rationalise.

Suddenly his phone rang in his hand and the screen told him it was Sarah.

"Hey," he answered.

"Chris?" she sounded like she was crying.

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Are you at home?"

"Not at the moment."

"Oh."

"What is it?"

She sniffled.

"Can I come over and see you?"

"Sure. Kylie'll be home now and I can be back in," he paused and thought, "twenty minutes or so."

"OK. OK, I'll see you at your place," she said and hung up.

What had happened? Had they found the drunk driver? Had something else happened? He ran to his car and began to reverse. He hit the brakes. The footprints. What happened if it rained? What were they? Shit, he was needed elsewhere, Sarah needed help. He couldn't stay now, couldn't brush her off. He started reversing again.

∞

In the car over, Sarah ran through the scene again. The girl's legs were on the table and it was a gruesome sight; she couldn't stop looking at it as the pathologist cleaned up.

"But it just can't be," she said again and he sighed and turned to her.

"What else could it be?"

"But have you seen anything like this before?"

"No. No, I haven't, but that doesn't mean it can't be."

"But I mean, how? How could a car have done this to her? It looks like she was sliced in two," she shook her head and looked at the wall. She couldn't keep looking at what was left of the teen.

"Torn," the pathologist said. "It looks like she was torn."

"Like by an animal?"

"No animal could have done this," he said again.

"A 'roo?" she tried, but he barked a laugh.

"No. Not in these circumstances. If she was in the Bush I would give it some consideration with a lack of alternatives, but she was still on the bike, a 'roo couldn't do that."

"But..." she started.

"No, Officer, you have to assume the most likely cause and that is a car hit her and somehow did this to her."

"We haven't found a car," she said. "You'd think it would be covered in blood."

"Unless they washed it straight after," the pathologist shrugged.

"Without anyone seeing it?" she looked at him and he sagged a little.

"Look, nothing about this makes much sense, I can't pretend it does, but I'm not going to drag out the family's grief with wild assertions."

"We haven't even found the rest of her," she trailed off.

"Again," he shook his head sadly, "I can't drag the family through that."

"No," she shook her head again. "No, you're right. But we need to keep the body for a little while longer. It is such a bizarre incident we may need to match the wounds to a car or, I hate to say it, something else."

"What are you saying?"

"Perhaps there was someone in the Bush, with a sword or something."

"Are you saying this could be murder?"

"I don't know, but that makes more sense, don't you think?"

"Well, yes, but I am not putting that down on anything official. Not without evidence."

"No, we're just thinking here."

"You're a police officer, tell me, are we a good town?"

Looking at the floor she nodded to herself.

"Yes. Yes we are."

"Then you won't find someone with a sword," the pathologist said.

∞

It had been awful seeing what was left of the girl, but more awful not knowing how it could have happened. She just couldn't buy the car idea, but when she got back to the station she found that that was the excepted cause. Like everyone wanted to shut it down. It was a horrible, freak accident and that was that. No one wanted to have to deal with it.

She decided to ring Chris, she needed to talk to someone about it, even just to talk it out of her. He and Kylie would listen, they wouldn't judge her, they'd let her talk.
CHAPTER SIX

She was already there when he pulled into the driveway and he got out quickly, realising that he hadn't called Kylie to warn her.

He went through the door and found them both drinking tea in the family room. They both looked up when he got in.

"Where've you been?" Kylie asked.

"I had to check something out for school," he replied and she kissed him on the cheek.

"What's up?" he asked the room.

"I wanted to wait for you, so I didn't say it twice," Sarah said from her chair.

She looked bad, her face was pale and her eyes were red; she looked altogether bedraggled, but it was more in the way she sat than her clothing. He sat down and Kylie joined him.

"I'm sorry," she said wetly and scrubbed a tear from her cheek.

"It's OK, Sarah, just tell us what happened," Kylie said tenderly.

"It's that little girl. Oh, I don't know. I went to the autopsy, it was horrible, but it's not that. It's, it's," she wiped another tear away.

"Take your time," Chris soothed.

"They're saying it's a hit and run, but I can't believe it. She was torn in two."

Kylie gasped and put her hand to her throat, Chris felt a cold tingle down his back.

"In two?" he asked.

"This is confidential, but yes," she nodded. "Just the legs left, still on the bicycle. Torn, that's the word the pathologist used, but still he says it was a car. I can't see how," she began to cry again.

"It's OK, Sarah, you've had a nasty experience, it's normal to feel like this," Kylie said.

"No. No, it's not even that. It's just that, I don't know, I feel it's being brushed under the carpet. Car accident is accepted at the station, it's as if everyone wants to close the case without even touching it."

Chris shook his head.

"There's too much happening. The hikers, the man on the new mine site, now this."

"What man on the mine site?" she asked looking up.

"You know the guy who got hit by the branch," but she looked at him blankly. "It was in the paper, you must have heard about it."

She shook her head.

"No. But I guess it could have come through on my day off."

"But surely you would have heard about it, there would have been an investigation, wouldn't there?"

"Well, yes. What are you saying?"

"Did they close that case down as well?" Chris asked.

"Come on, Chris," Kylie chided. "Are you suggesting that Collie is burying cases? This isn't TV New York."

"No, of course not, but," he tried to think what he was saying. "It's like they are keeping a lid on these things."

"They're building a new mine, they don't want to advertise death here," Kylie said.

"Yeah, you're right," he said.

But it wasn't just that and he wasn't sharing what he was really thinking; though it might make even Sarah laugh.

"Do you think?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know, but I might take a look into it. Just to make sure we're not crazy," he smiled and Sarah smiled back. "The mines aren't evil corporations like in the movies, you know?"

"Thanks for listening, I just wanted to get it out, it really probably is nothing more than a terrible accident."

"So they haven't caught anyone?" Kylie asked.

"No," she shook her head. "Nor a car. Nothing, that's weird too, in a small town."

Chris nodded, but his mind was drifting.

"I should let you get on with your evening," Sarah said standing.

"Yeah," Chris said standing too. "Have a bath, a glass of wine or two and get an early night."

"Sounds good," she smiled weakly.

Kylie saw her to the door as Chris went into his office and booted up his laptop.

"You're not planning on doing anything stupid, are you?" Kylie asked from the door.

"No," he laughed and turned in his chair. "There's just something else to this. Some more facts."

"Like what?" she narrowed her eyes.

"I can't tell you. These 'facts' are too stupid to believe. It's just that there is something, so remote I can't believe I'm considering it, but it all fits."

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed.

"Let me look into a few things here, realise it's stupid and then we can laugh about it later."

"OK," she smiled and kissed the top of his head.

He turned back to the computer and searched 'Australian dinosaurs'. There wasn't much to it, there had been hardly any fossils found in this country, part of the reason he hadn't bothered to try and pick up palaeontology again over here.

The largest number of bones had been found near a place called Winton in Northern Queensland. He looked up a list of Australian dinosaurs and opened a new tab for each of the carnivores. There were only nineteen dinosaurs in total and of them only four were carnivores and one being an omnivore. There was the Ozraptor that had been discovered in Western Australia, but it was too small. Despite the popular image, raptors were quite small, only the size of a chicken. But there was the Rapator that fitted the bill, but there was not enough known about it due to the lack of discovered bones. And then there was the Australovenator, the most complete dinosaur found in Australia. It was a carnivore, stood at around two metres (6.6 ft.) at the hip and was six metres (20 ft.) long and weighed between five hundred to a thousand kilograms. Three toed, it used it hands to attack having three sharp claws on each. Though it's lightweight size got it the nickname the cheetah of its time, it was big enough to bite a teenager in half.

He sat back in his chair and stared at an artist's rendition of one. Could it be? Surely it wasn't possible. The idea in and of itself wasn't entirely crazy, they did find species thought to be extinct in remote places. There was the coelacanth, a type of fish that was thought to become extinct around sixty-six million years ago and then found both around South Africa and Indonesia. But that was a fish, not a theropod, a large dinosaur.

He jumped up and grabbed his phone.

"Chris?" Sarah asked.

"Have you had that bath yet?"

"No. No, why?"

"I'm coming over, I need you to take me to the site where the girl died."

"What? No. Why?"

"You have to, I have to look for something."

"You're not making any sense."

"I'm on my way."

∞

It was dark by the time they got there and nothing to show the horror of what had happened. They got out and switched on torches.

"What are we doing here?" she asked again.

"Looking."

"For what?"

"Look, Sarah, if you want to stay in the car, it's cool, I'll just be a few minutes. This was where she was found?"

"Yes."

"OK."

He looked at the dark Bushland next to the road and was overcome with fear. What if there was something in there, something watching him even now?

"Actually, you better stay in the car," he said.

"No, Chris, look I'm sorry, I went home and had a large whisky, and it's not mixing well with the stress of today."

He smiled at her.

"I don't blame you on that one."

"What are you looking for?" she looked at his face in the flashing orange of her emergency lights. "Are you scared?"

He took a deep breath.

"I am."

"Why? Wait. I went out to the new mine site looking for those hikers, I thought there was something in the Bush, there was a lot of noise and I ran. As I drove I thought there was something following in the trees, I just thought I was tired and stressed, but you think there's something in there, don't you?"

"I do," he nodded.

"What?"

"We need to look. One look and either I'm right or I'm paranoid. Either way, I might need a whisky too."

"What are we looking for?"

"Footprints."

She nodded vaguely and they walked off the road shining their torches at their feet.

"She was found here, but I guess she was hit a little further on," Sarah said pointing her light that way.

He nodded and shone his light through the trees. It did nothing, the trees bounced the light around so that he could see less than without the light. He shone it back on the ground and walked along. Yes.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

That was it.

There they were.

She walked up behind him.

"What?"

He moved his torch light so she looked.

"What are they?"

"Footprints," he breathed.

"Of what?" she asked alarmed.

"I think it's an Australovenator."

"What?"

"Southern Hunter," he said to himself.

"What?"

"It's a dinosaur, Sarah."

"Come on, Chris, I don't appreciate it."

"I'm sorry, it's true," he said walking closer and bending down.

She joined him.

"Look, three toes with indents of claws. Deep enough to suggest the right weight range."

"Chris," she said sharply and he looked up at her.

"What? What do you think they are? Do you think I'm playing a sick joke on you? What the hell else is it?"

"I don't... I'm sorry."

"Look, Sarah, look," he reached down and broke off the edge off of the print, "they're fresh."

"That's not possible," she whined and suddenly flashed her light left and right through the trees.

"Stop that," he hissed. "You want to attract attention?"

She dropped the beam back to the floor.

"Sorry."

"Look, Sarah," he swept his light back and forth. The ground was churned up, but there were three definite prints. "It walked up to the road and then back."

"You can't say that."

"What else is it?"

"Not this, this is insane. I need to go home. I need that bath now."

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry," he tried to touch her shoulder, but she pulled back.

"Just take me home."

∞

"Is this it?" Kylie asked as he walked through the front door.

She was in his office looking at the computer screen. He walked in and stood behind her, on the screen was a picture of Australovenator.

"I think so."

"Oh, Chris, this is stupid."

"I know, I know, but get up for a second."

She got up and looked him in the eye sadly.

"I'm not crazy, Kyls," he said and plugged his phone into the computer. It took a few minutes and then he had the prints up on the screen. "A student found these in the Bush. Deep, but not that deep. Look at them, Kyls, they're dino prints."

"Come on, Chris."

"I know," he shouted. "I know, OK, but these are real, and they're fresh, Kyls. Fresh."

"There aren't dinosaurs in the Bush, Chris."

"What are they then?"

"I don't know."

"No, no one does. Students are saying that there is a croc in the Bush, but that's not a Salties prints."

"It's a joke, they're playing a prank on you, Chris, come on."

He got up and walked past her and into the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of red wine.

"No," he said as she followed. "Kyls, I just got Sarah to take me down to where that girl died."

"Oh, Chris, what are you thinking?" she accused.

"They're there too, Kylie, prints leading to the road.

"Dinosaur prints," he said quietly.

She looked at him. This wasn't like him, completely unlike him, in fact. He wouldn't do this kind of thing unless he truly believed it. But then there was a difference between truly believing something and that something being true.

"There must be another explanation," she tried.

"I hope so, Kyls, I really do," he said sadly.

She walked over to him, took his glass, put it down and then wrapped her arms around him.

"I believe you. If you think this is real then prove it. Go for it, you know I will always back you all the way."

He sniffed back tears.

"Thanks, baby."

"What, what kind of dinosaur is it? If it is?"

"Australovenator, I think."

"What does that mean?"

"It translates as Southern Hunter," he said and she squeezed him tighter.
CHAPTER SEVEN

He sat and stared at the email. It was the culmination of a couple of days of emailing and it had been quite a couple of days.

Sarah had texted him wanting to know if people knew about the dinosaur and whether that was the cover up. He had replied that, no, he didn't think so, but he was planning to find out and so he had gone to the Shire's Member of Parliament, Len Norton.

∞

"You've got a problem that you're covering up," Chris said off the bat.

"You appear to have a problem with manners," Norton said from behind his desk.

"I'm sorry, I don't have time for manners. I need to know why deaths are being covered up."

"That's ridiculous, how dare you come in here and make such accusations."

"I've talked to the local press, you're muffling them. They're being fed stories and told to print them, nothing else."

"Look, Chris, you can try and paint me as a bad guy here, but I'm not. I'm trying to do what is right for the town. You know much about Collie's history?" Norton asked.

"A little yeah".

"It's got a name for itself, hasn't it?"

"When we were moving people thought we were mad," Chris agreed.

"And perhaps once that view was correct, the idea of being a dirty little mining town, but that's not true anymore. No one's worried about people coming to work in the mines, but we are worried that they will move to Bunbury and not here. I'm not giving them the chance to add these deaths to what they know about Collie."

Chris sagged a little. He had come in all high and mighty, but Norton wasn't the bad guy here. He was, however, stopping these deaths being linked, even if it was unknowingly.

"They're linked, Mr. Norton, the deaths."

"Come on, Chris."

"Look," he got out his phone and found the photos.

"And what am I looking at?"

"These are dinosaur footprints. Fresh dinosaur footprints."

Norton looked at them and then leaned back in his chair and laughed.

"You're taking up my time with this? What the hell, Chris?"

"I know it's far-fetched, but this isn't a joke. It all fits."

"All fits what?"

"Look, Sir, I think it's the new mine site, they opened up a road into town. I think there was something living in the Bush, never disturbed by humans, but I think it's followed the road."

"Just stop, Chris."

"I'm serious."

"After everything I just told you, you think I'm going to let you walk around proclaiming dinosaurs are attacking people here?"

"Kids at school are already saying it's a crocodile."

"That's nearly as stupid."

"Doesn't matter, it'll be on social media by now."

Norton let out a long breath through his nose.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm in touch with someone from over East, I'm hoping he'll come over and have a look."

"No. I'm not having this blow up. We need the influx of new people in the town, it would boost the economy no end, we'd have more money for public services, fill in potholes, build that cinema everyone wants."

"Just to have a look. I came in here wrongly, full of piss and vinegar and I was wrong. But if this guy says they are ancient prints then it's a tourist attraction. If he says they are fresh then we have to do something."

"Chris, come on, listen to yourself, this is ridiculous. Dinosaurs don't live in the Bush."

"We can't ignore the possibility, Len, how many more might die if I'm right? What about come Summer when people go out camping all over this area?"

"It's a couple of tragic accidents, you can't connect them, especially with tall tales."

"Look, I'm not going to hurt Collie, I love it here, but I'm not going to risk lives."

"I can't stop you, Chris, but if I smell the faintest whiff that you're damaging Collie, I'll run you out of town. Do you hear me?"

"I won't. Don't worry."

∞

And now he was staring at his email conversation:

TO: Jon Woods

FROM: Christopher Thompson

1 FILE ATTACHED

Sir,

I attach a couple of pictures of foot prints that were found outside of Collie, South Western Australia. I took the photos myself.

TO: Christopher Thompson

FROM: Jon Woods

Mr. Thompson,

These photos are interesting, but I do not see why you have sent them to me. It is hard to tell from the resolution, but they do not seem to be fossilised and I therefore think that this is a joke.

TO: Jon Woods

FROM: Christopher Thompson

Sir,

I assure you that this is no joke and would very much like you to come and look at them. I studied Palaeontology and worked in the field for a few years and I agree they do not seem to be fossilised, but do seem to be genuine.

TO: Christopher Thompson

FROM: Jon Woods

Mr. Thompson,

I am not sure what you are insinuating, but if you are genuine then you should contact someone in Perth.

TO: Jon Woods

FROM: Christopher Thompson

1 FILE ATTACHED

Sir,

The reason I contacted you is simply that you were the only person I could find who is both a Palaeontologist and Herpetologist.

What I am insinuating, and I cannot believe it either, is that these are fresh tracks.

There is no way that they would have survived this long full stop, let alone without being discovered by now.

There was a road death here, Sir, not long ago and I went to the scene. There are more footprints there.

Please, come and take a look.

TO: Christopher Thompson

FROM: Jon Woods

Mr. Thompson,

I have done some research and verified you are who you say you are. I have looked at the higher definition photos you sent and have to say that I am intrigued.

The photos are still not of a good enough quality and so I feel that I should come and see for myself.

I am a man of science, but science has taught me that the Universe, not least the World we live on, is a strange place. I attach my flight details below.

∞

So he was coming and all this would end one way or another. He didn't want to waste this man's time, but deep down he hoped that the prints would be proved false, an elaborate joke by the students. No, that couldn't explain the prints by the Highway.

Then fossils somehow, recently uncovered by wind and rain. Something to put an end to the insane idea that a dinosaur could really be living in the Bush. Not just living, but killing people.

He put his head in his hands, just as everyone kept telling him, it was ridiculous, but he couldn't shake the facts, as small as they were, as unbelievable as they were. The least sensible conclusion was the one that linked everything together. Yes, science taught us that the World was strange, that not everything made sense and scientists had to continually change their theories in the light of new discoveries. But this was still too far-fetched, like a terrible B movie made on the cheap.

∞

Kylie watched him from the door and then silently padded away to the kitchen where she switched the kettle on.

She loved him of course, would do anything for him, believed in what he believed and if he said there was a dinosaur out in the Bush, she wasn't going to argue.

But.

But, she couldn't get her head around it, there had to be another explanation, at least the idea of a crocodile. Yeah, that was far-fetched too, but it still dealt with living animals, something we knew to exist, not dinosaurs somehow surviving for millions of years.

She couldn't settle her mind, it was torn between believing her husband and not being able to. He wanted to do something in his life, he wanted to be more than a teacher, was he trying to find something in this that wasn't there?

The kettle beeped and she jumped out of her revelry.

"He's coming," Chris said and she jumped again. "Sorry."

"No. I was just lost in thought. Cup of tea?"

"That would be great," he smiled.

"Who's coming?" she asked getting out the cups.

"A Palaeontologist from over East. He's a herpetologist too, that means he works with reptiles and amphibians."

"What do you think he'll say?"

"Hopefully that I'm mad, or that somehow the prints lasted all this time in soft soil. I don't know," he sighed.

"What do you want him to say?" she asked handing him a cup of tea.

"I don't know. I guess that I'm wrong, it's just too hard to believe anything else."

She laughed.

"It is," she said and he smiled.
CHAPTER EIGHT

Len Norton sat at his desk and stared at the phone. Then he looked up at the clock. Again. Should he? It was stupid and he didn't want to give any credence to such preposterous ideas.

But it nagged him in the back of his mind. Dinosaurs? Maybe a crocodile. Was that possible? Wasn't there a reason why they only lived up North; that they needed the warm climate, would one die if it spent too long in the cold? And it was cold, Collie got cold in the Winter, surely a crocodile would die, or at least stay in one place, not run around eating people and livestock.

He wanted to believe it was some kind of beast other than the alternative which was someone in town killing livestock, maybe even kids. He shuddered, it was brutal; surely no one in town was that evil. And he certainly didn't want to link the livestock to the people. He knew about the Mary Cole death, and couldn't see how a car could have done that, but he could see how a person hiding in the trees could and he didn't want to think about that either.

And he certainly didn't want rumours spreading that there was a deranged killer in the town or hiding in the Bushland. Even a dinosaur would be better than that.

And really, it was hard to attribute the most recent livestock deaths to a person, even persons; they were badly torn apart. Who had the strength to do such a thing?

He looked at the phone again and then at the clock. It was getting close to lunchtime. Should he ring? It was lunacy, but Chris was a decent fellow, not a kook.

He knew of Chris Thompson and his wife, Kylie, they had moved here last year to take up teaching positions, had joined a church and from what he heard they were well respected by other teachers, parents and people in the community. He had seen them both in town, usually talking to people or students. He remembered driving past as students were calling out to Chris, just to say hello. That was a sign of a good teacher, he thought, or at least a well-liked one.

So he couldn't place this talk of dinosaurs with him, other than the fact that he had some foot prints and that he was an intelligent, sensible young man. He talked about how it was crazy, but that it fitted everything together. Well, yes, it certainly looked that way with the cows, the man from the mine site, maybe even the hikers. They were still doing sweeps in the Bush for them, or their remains; which was more likely. Unless they had come out somewhere and gone home and no one had bothered to notify those in Collie. Maybe he should call off searches in the Bush?

He looked from the phone to the clock again and it was about time. He looked back at the phone and sighed. It was niggling him, the need to tell Thompson even though he didn't want to. He knew himself well enough to know that if he didn't do it now, he would be thinking about it in bed and would ring the next day anyway.

He picked up the phone.

∞

"It's for you," Webby said handing Chris the phone.

"Hello?"

"Chris, it's Len. That man of yours coming in?"

"Err, yeah, should be here tomorrow."

"Good, good," Norton said down the line.

"Is there something I can do for you, Sir?"

"Me? Well, no. Look. Aright. Last night some cattle were attacked at the Dennis Farm."

"Attacked?"

"One is missing, two have been torn apart. Now before you say anything, we suspect it was people."

"OK."

"I just thought you should know."

"You don't think it was people?"

"I was down there this morning, Chris, I don't want to think that someone in this town could do such a thing."

Chris laughed.

"So now I am the best of a bad bunch?"

"Something like that. Just get your man to have a look and report back to me. But keep it quiet, if there is a croc out there we need to dispose of it quickly and quietly."

"It's not a croc, Sir."

"Whatever, just don't go around shouting about this."

"I won't," the line went dead and Chris looked at it.

"Not a croc?" Webby asked taking a sip of his coffee.

"Nope."

"What isn't a croc?"

"Lots of things aren't crocs, dude," Chris tried a smile that didn't quite take.

"Smartarse."

"It's nothing, just, I dunno."

"Students are saying there's a croc in the Bush, that someone found footprints or something."

"Yeah. But a croc couldn't survive down here, not in these temperatures."

Webby shrugged.

"Weird stuff happens. You hear about the Dennis Farm?"

"Geez, small town, huh?"

"And teachers hear it all," he smiled.

"It's pretty shocking."

"Yeah, something got to them, wild dog probably, maybe a pig."

"Could a pig do something like that?"

"They get big and have tusks. Maybe if one or two freaked out they might accidentally kill a cow," he shrugged again.

"Seems unlikely though," Chris said.

"Not a croc though?" Webby asked and Chris smiled.

"No. Not a croc."

∞

He'd received a text from Sarah saying that she had been at the Dennis Farm and though it was crazy, she thought she believed him and he spent the evening researching Australovenator. It was a relatively new find and there wasn't much known about it, despite being Australia's most complete carnivorous dinosaur skeleton, but that wasn't saying much. Only a few bones had been discovered, not a complete skeleton.

∞

The next day he and Kylie went to the Federal Hotel to meet Dr. Jon Woods in the bar after school.

"Chris Thompson?"

"Yes, Dr. Woods?"

"Just Jon."

"Cool, this is my wife, Kylie."

"Nice to meet you," he replied as they shook hands all round.

He was younger than Kylie had expected, not that many years older than Chris, if any, and he had a roughness and tan of an outdoors person, but also the softness of someone who spent their time in an office. She supposed that would be true for someone studying reptiles in the field, but she had imagined that he would be, well, nerdy. A scientist spending his time in the lab or library.

He brought them both a beer and they sat at the table next to the fire.

"So," he said.

He wasn't really sure how to proceed, he had come across the country to meet with a man who believed there was a dinosaur in the Bush. He looked at Chris and thought he looked rather too sensible to be making up stories such as this, but then appearances could be deceptive and he wondered why he had come again.

OK, honestly, he had come to get away, too much time doing paperwork, which he hated; this seemed like a perfect opportunity to leave it all behind for awhile.

It didn't hurt to get away so soon after his girlfriend had split up with him for another man. It still caused a pain in his heart to think about it, the betrayal, and he told himself once again that he wasn't a lovelorn teenager anymore. It didn't help.

"I'm sorry to be blunt, Jon, but why did you come?" Kylie asked.

"Your husband asked me to," he said simply.

"Yes, but you can't just believe him, can you? It's a bit far-fetched. Sorry, Chris."

"No, you're right, Kyls."

"Crocodile," Woods said. "It could be a crocodile and that would be an amazing discovery, finding one somehow surviving down here."

"So that's it?" Chris asked.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "I told you that science has taught me that the world is a strange place, but not living dinosaur strange."

"How was your trip," Chris suddenly asked.

"Fine, no problems at all."

"Good, good."

"What did you expect to happen when I got here, Chris?" he asked tenderly.

"No, no, you're right. I'm just confused by it all, when the craziest explanation seems to be the right one."

"Look," Woods leant forward, "I hope you're right, it would be the find of a lifetime, it would secure me research money for life and, hell, I got into Palaeontology because I love dinos."

Chris smiled.

"Yeah, same. Since I first went to the Natural History Museum in London on a school trip."

"So maybe you're seeing what you want to see," Woods said sitting back.

"I kinda hope so," Chris admitted. "But even the second option doesn't make much sense."

"Agreed, it's kind of why I came. I looked you up as I said, you didn't seem like the type to be pranking me and no other explanation seemed to fit."

"So how will you start?" Kylie asked.

"I guess we go and see these prints," Woods said finishing his pint.

"Yes, cool," Chris agreed finishing his own beer.

"Well, I'm not chugging this, so I'll let you boys go and walk home," Kylie said with a smile.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked.

"Yes. Go and explore," she returned his kiss as he got up.

"Nice meeting you," Woods said.

"I'm sure we'll meet again, you must come over for dinner tomorrow night in fact."

"Sounds good to me," he smiled and then followed Chris out to his car.

They were silent on the drive, Jon watched the trees go by, the dense, lush vegetation and all that it held and felt content to be out in such splendid scenery. He'd loved the Bush since he was a kid growing up in it and had become fascinated with all things reptilian and amphibian since he found his first lizard as a small boy.

But these days he lived in the city and spent too much time in an office, lab or lecture theatre, even though he got out into the field often. Often, but not often enough.

Chris turned the car off onto an unsealed road and the trees were gloomy under the overcast sky. It wouldn't be much longer before the sun set. Finally they stopped and Chris got out. Woods looked around and then followed to where Chris was hunkered down.

He looked down over Chris' shoulder and felt his heart stop for a moment. Time seemed to slow, but the world seemed to spin. He slowly pushed Chris out of the way and hunkered down. He touched the earth. Impossible, it was soft, Chris hadn't been kidding, there was no way that prints like this could have lasted millions of years.

Even just looking at it he knew this wasn't a prank, there was too much detail, it was too elaborate even now that it had been blurred by rain. The only person who might be able to do this was the man standing next to him and he couldn't think of one good reason for him to lure him across the country to look at a fake footprint. Could he be doing it for someone else? His ex-girlfriend? Getting him out of the city for something? No, that was stupid.

But then so was what was in front of him.

He got up and looked at the other prints. He hadn't brought his plaster with him, nor his tape measure and one heavy rain would obliterate them, he cursed himself.

"This is insane."

"I know."

"I mean," he stopped in thought. "This is incredible."

"I know."

"What are we going to do?" he asked Chris, looking at him for the first time since they had gotten out of the car.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Chris smiled.

"Yeah, I guess. You said a girl died and there were footprints there?"

"Yeah, you want to see them?"

"No. Not now, but I want to see the body if possible."

"I know someone who might be able to set it up for tomorrow, but it is Saturday."

"Do it. Do it now," Woods said and knelt by the print again.

There had to be something here, something that would give it away as anything other than a dinosaur print. He looked around but could see no trail left by a crocodile's tail and he had seen enough croc prints to know that these weren't. But the other explanation was just too much to take on board. A dinosaur living here in the Bush.

Here.

He stood suddenly and looked around into the gloomy trees. Was it here even now? He looked at Chris who was just finishing his phone call.

"She said she'd sort it out for tomorrow if she can. She'll ring me in the morning."

"Good. Now I think we should get back to the pub, I need a drink."

Chris smiled.

"I'm down with that," he said before quickly scanning the trees and then they both hurried back to the car.

∞

"Australovenator, huh?" Jon asked.

"It's the only one I could find online that fitted."

"It makes sense, yeah," Jon agreed and took a sip of beer.

"No it doesn't" Chris corrected and Jon laughed.

"No. No it doesn't at all, does it?"

"Not outside of some cheap dime store novel."

"Yes, or a horror film, town attacked by rampant dinosaurs," Jon smiled.

"But it's not," Chris said seriously. "It's real life. My brain just struggles to accept it."

"Same. I keep thinking they must be old prints that have somehow survived, but even that's nearly as ridiculous as a living dinosaur."

"So what do we do? How do we find out either way?"

"We need to go back and take plaster casts of the prints, take soil samples and see the body if we can. At least the pathologist's notes."

Chris nodded. He should have gone back and taken casts before now and didn't know why he hadn't. They finished their beers and Chris headed home to find Kylie already in bed after another long week. He got in next to her and she stirred and moved her leg over his.

He lay awake for a long time trying to put fantasy and reality, if not together, then side by side. He got up and used the toilet before looking at himself in the mirror. He wasn't going mad, but the reality was madness. Even if it was a crocodile that meant it was of a ginormous size and living where it shouldn't. But it wasn't a croc, he knew that deep down, it was a dinosaur, a dinosaur that had somehow survived millions of years and had now found them.

He got back into bed and finally fell asleep where he dreamt he was running through the Bush, but it kept changing, like a maze he kept hitting impenetrable undergrowth and had to turn back. And all the time he knew that something was following him, hunting him. And the Kookaburras laughed at him from the trees until the morning sun awoke him.
CHAPTER NINE

Sarah called him early.

"You're lucky," she said. "They were supposed to hand the remains back to the family already but there was a cock up somewhere and it's still at the Pathologists till Monday."

"Great. What time can we go?"

"In an hour? He's not too happy about going in on his day off."

"We'll meet you there in an hour," he told her and disconnected before ringing Woods.

∞

He picked up Woods and headed to the hospital where they met Sarah.

"Sarah, Jon Woods; Jon, Sarah. She's a local police officer."

"Nice to meet you, thanks for doing this on such short notice," Jon shook her hand.

"It's fine. Really. But do you think..." she trailed off, not even wanting to voice the question.

He laughed.

"I know how you feel, my head is spinning; I couldn't sleep last night trying to come up with another explanation."

She smiled. This was good, he was on their side, and he felt like them, confused, but logical.

"Let's get this done then, but Dr. Woods, don't say anything, this is tightly under wraps," she said.

"It's Jon and my lips are sealed," he smiled.

As they walked in he looked at her bum, she was slim and in good shape. Ahh, he knew he shouldn't be checking her out, most likely he was rebounding, but he was only human and she was cute with her short hair covered by a beanie and tight, padded jacket. He wondered if she was single and shook his head. Not now, Jon, not ever. Come on.

They walked into the room to find the pathologist already there with the remains covered on a bed.

"Morning, morning," the pathologist said testily. "Let's not be polite, but quick. I have a golf game to attend."

"OK, Doc, but thanks for doing this."

"Just get on with it," he said and uncovered the remains.

Jon gasped slightly, looking at the small pair of legs and then took a deep breath. It wasn't the first time he had done this, he had worked to monitor crocs in Northern Queensland and had, unfortunately, had to see the remains of attacks to work out the size of the Saltie they were looking for.

So he stepped forward and around the table and examined the wound.

"Car accident?"

"That's what the report says," the pathologist replied.

"How the hell does a car do this?" Jon asked equally testily.

"I don't know."

"Have you even examined this wound?"

"No."

"No?" Chris asked surprised.

The pathologist seemed to deflate slightly.

"Look, they brought it in and said it was a car accident. I said the same thing as you, 'how could a car do this to someone?' and they said, and I quote, 'well it did, what else could it be?' and I couldn't argue with that."

"It's cool," Chris said, "you're right."

Jon looked at the wound closely for a while before straightening.

"So?" asked the pathologist.

"Well, I can't see how a car did this either, and I don't think it did, the wound isn't right. But like you said, what else could it be?"

"There are stories of a croc," the pathologist said quietly.

"Coming from the kids at school," Chris replied.

"Yes. Heard it through my daughter, not exactly a good source, but still I lay in bed at night and think of this poor child and her wounds."

"I study crocs," Woods said, "and this isn't a croc bite, they couldn't survive down here, not during winter."

"So it's a car?"

Woods shrugged.

"Like you say, what else could it be?"

The pathologist seemed relieved even if he didn't seem to believe them and he shook all their hands before they left.

"So?" Sarah asked as they all sat in Chris' car.

"Not a car, the flesh was torn, but not a crocodile, too clean. This is insane."

"But it's the only option left, isn't it?" Chris asked.

"Yeah," Woods sighed. "As crazy as it sounds."

"You can't be serious," Sarah protested. "I thought you were going to come here and laugh us out of the State."

"I thought that too," he replied. "We need to go back to the tracks and take casts."

"Cool. Are you coming, Sarah?"

"No, I have a shift this afternoon and I need to do housework," she frowned.

"Whatever happens in life, chores never go away, do they?" Jon asked.

"No," she smiled. "Normal life always gets in the way of living."

He laughed at that. She was pretty and nice, down to Earth, but with a sparkle.

"Well, maybe we can grab a drink sometime, forget normal life for a bit," he said.

"That would be nice," she smiled and got out of the car. "Be careful."

"That's the plan," Chris said.

∞

They spent another few hours down by the prints, taking casts and measuring them.

The bush around them was thick and a dark green. So different to summer when the landscape turned brown as the grasses and undergrowth died back. Here and there underground water sources were visible by the green trees that grew in a line following them. But in winter when there was plenty of rain the whole landscape became green again.

"So what was all that about?" Chris asked, eyebrows raised.

"What?"

"Forgetting normal life?"

"Just being friendly, y'know?"

"Uh-huh."

"What? She's a nice girl."

"She is and you're an exciting man coming into town to hunt dinosaurs."

Jon stood up from the print and looked at him seriously.

"But that's it, isn't it? We are going to have to go out there and hunt this thing. You and me, hunting a dinosaur. If that's going to be normal life for the next few weeks then I could do with forgetting about it for one night."

"I hadn't thought about it. I mean, I had, I knew that something would have to be done; it just seemed so remote. How're we going to do it anyway?"

Jon sighed.

"I don't know. I can get some stuff flown over, stuff we use to catch Salties."

"Maybe we should get a professional."

"That might be a good idea. Have a look for people up North, rangers and the like," Jon nodded.

∞

That evening Sarah met Jon at his hotel for dinner.

"So how long have you lived her?" he asked over a drink.

"A couple of years now," she replied sipping her wine.

"Not a local then."

"No. I could live here for the rest of my life and not be counted as a local. Collie people are very proud of coming from here."

"So what brought you here?"

"Chance really. I graduated, but I didn't feel ready to police the city and all those kind of crimes. In the middle of my doubt I saw this position and applied," she gave a little shrug.

"Seems like a nice town."

"It is, it has its rough parts and people just like anywhere. Drugs and bored teens never go well."

"No, I guess not. I suppose you don't notice it living in the city, rough neighbourhoods are blocks away."

"Yeah, in Collie it's just a matter of a street."

"At least you know who they are," Jon smiled.

"Oh yes, town this small, everyone knows everyone," she smiled back.

"You think they'll notice a stranger like me?"

"How could they not," she smiled with a twinkle.

He laughed.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"You should. Lots of transients in this town due to the mines and power stations, no one will be whispering about a new man in town unless he's something a little different."

"I guess that's bad considering why I'm here," he frowned.

"Hey," she said brightly, "we had a deal not to talk about that tonight."

"True," he smiled back. "I apologise."

"So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"I'm a copper, I don't like mysteries."

"Not much to tell really. Haven't done much with my life other than study. From a young age I knew what I wanted to do with my life and knew I had to be a Doctor to do it."

"Was it worth it?"

He took a gulp of his beer.

"I'm not sure at the moment. I think I rose too high, too fast. I wanted to be out in the field leading expeditions and digs, but I seem to spend more time in the office or giving lectures."

She frowned, but he smiled.

"Don't go feeling sorry for me, I'm still doing what I love. Can't say that for everyone. You always wanted to be a cop?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Funnily enough it actually started with dinosaurs, I loved the mystery of them, the idea of uncovering them and putting the pieces together. Not just physically.

"That moved on to Bigfoot, Nessie and the Burrunjor which moved on to the paranormal and aliens. Finally I got into crime, started reading those true crime magazines and books, watching the news. Finally I had real mysteries to solve."

"Then this... Sorry, won't talk about it," he smiled.

"Not tonight," she smiled back. "How did you find your love?"

"Haven't managed that one yet," he grimaced.

"I meant with dinosaurs," she punched his arm across the table.

"Well, it's linked. I dunno, I just fell in love with lizards and frogs and all things amphibian and that led me to dinosaurs. Grew up in the Northern Territories, but then moved to Victoria for high school. Tough to make friends or get girls when you're into something so specific and odd. It was all I wanted to talk about and others just didn't. I mean I had some friends, but no one I kept in touch with when I went to University and once there I just studied my heart out."

"You cut a dramatic figure," she smiled.

"It comes across that way, doesn't it?" he smiled back. "Life, though, it's never as exciting as the thought of it."

They drank their drinks in silence for a while and he got up and ordered two more.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Church in the morning and then I'm on duty again."

"You go to church?"

"Will the scientist in you have nothing to do with me?"

He laughed.

"No. I guess you'd call me agnostic. I don't believe in a god, but, I dunno, sometimes I wonder. The world is a wonderful place, can I really accept it's all down to chance? I don't know, I don't really like either answer."

"That's fair enough," she took a sip.

"Chris is going to church tomorrow, do you go to the same one?"

"Yeah, that's how we know each other. I guess going to church in a small town is a good way to know about things, people from all walks of life and that."

"I guess so. Any farmers?"

"Some, yeah. Why?"

He chuckled.

"Stuff we're not talking about tonight."

"You can't get it off your mind, can you?"

"No. Sorry. It's all just so..."

"Crazy," she finished and he laughed again.

"That's the word for it."

"What will you do if you find it?"

"Try and capture it, I guess. It's the find of the century. Any century. It'll take care of my funding for life."

"And what about the creature?" she asked sadly.

"You're worried for it?"

"Maybe. It just seems sad to be taking it from the wild where it was happy."

"Was happy," he noted.

"Until we came bulldozing, literally, into its territory."

"I agree, it's not fair. But what else can I do? I don't want to kill it."

"I suppose so."

"Hey," he smiled, "this is why we weren't going to talk about it."

"Let's order dinner then, I'm starved."

"Good idea."

∞

Around the time that Sarah was meeting Jon at the Feddy, Will and Pete were setting up their campsite. Nothing much, a little burner to cook some food on, a couple of swags and the two dogs now tied to a pole with enough chain to run around a bit, all set up just next to their Ute.

They'd not had a good day, they'd got there late due to one thing and the other and they hadn't come across a single pig in the hours they were out hunting.

"The dogs got a good run though," Pete said finishing his food.

"I guess. Just never came out and found nothing before," Will replied.

"Maybe they've gone someplace else."

"Never happened before," Will said sorting out his swag. "And the dogs were weird."

"Yeah, they didn't seem to be too keen on it," Pete agreed.

"Right," he looked over at the dogs as they stood and faced the trees. "Hey, what're you doing?"

The dogs looked back at him and then slowly wandered as close as they could get on their chains.

"Lie down," he commanded them, but they whined. "Lie down."

One of them obeyed, but the other went back to looking through the trees, still whining.

"Stupid dogs."

"Leave 'em, man, it's gonna be proper dark soon," Pete said getting into his swag.

"We'll be right, no clouds tonight."

"Dammit, that's like having a light on in your room, too damn bright out here."

"Put the pillow over your head, maybe you'll suffocate," Will said.

"Funny. You're a funny guy," Pete said from his swag as Will got into his.

The dogs barked once, but they were too tired to care.

∞

And then the dogs were barking furiously and Will woke up with a start.

"What?" he moaned unzipping his swag.

He just had time to notice that it was much later before he realised that the dogs had gone silent.

"Well thank..." he started, but was cut off by a crunching sound.

He continued to open his swag and looked out enough to see Pete's.

"Pete, you awake?"

"Yeah, but they've stopped, go back to sleep," he replied slumberly.

"Get up, man," he moaned as he himself stood up and then screamed.

Pete frantically opened his swag, now wide awake to be met by some kind of monster. It was a dream, a bad dream. A nightmare, what the hell was that thing? And then he watched in slow motion as it swiped out with its claw and sliced Will's stomach open. His guts spilled out on the ground as Pete turned and picked up his rifle. He couldn't get it loaded because he was shaking so much, he felt his jeans soak through with hot urine. He got the gun loaded, but couldn't aim when the monster reached out and grabbed his head, claws slicing through his neck. It's just a dream he thought before the monster decapitated him.

∞

Will couldn't believe what he was seeing, he was barely aware that he had screamed, but he could see Pete getting up out of the corner of his eye. In front of him was some kind of lizard, it was huge and one of the dog's legs hung from its mouth.

The thing looked at him, seemed to cock its head before he felt a searing hot pain in his stomach and looked down to see his own guts spilling to the floor.

This couldn't be happening. He looked over at his friend to see him grabbing his rifle. They weren't really allowed guns out pigging, but they'd nicked it off Pete's Dad who was away. He looked back down at his guts. 'Were they really mine?' he thought, and then back at the lizard. He watched it grab Pete and tear his head off, blood spurted into the air and he just stood there forever before finally falling over.

He looked back at the lizard monster and it was looking at him. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything, but try and hold his wet, slimy guts in his arms. He was so scared, scared like nothing he had ever felt, what was he going to do? It was getting closer, he could feel its breath.

He passed out just as the lizard started eating his guts.

∞

"Hey, Big Sam," Chris said after church.

"Hey, Chris, how's it going?"

"Oh, you know. Life. Last week of term this week, though."

"You get too many holidays," Sam smiled.

"Nope, you just don't get enough."

"I hear that."

"You been on the new site?"

"Yeah, all week," Sam frowned.

"Hear anything more about that stuff you told me?"

"No. Though most people think it's true now, since those guys got moved to a good fly in/fly out job up North."

"Really? But nothing else has happened?"

"No. I'm glad; you know there's talk about a croc? A big Saltie."

"Dude, that started in the High School, bear it no mind."

"Why would they start that rumour?"

"They're teenagers, it's not for us to understand how their minds work," Chris smiled.

"True," he shrugged his big shoulders. "I'm glad though. I don't want to run into a Saltie. Can they even live down here?"

"No, it's too cold for them," Chris reassured.

"Cool. So what are you doing on your holidays?"

"No plans as yet. Might go into the Bush for a bit."

"Bit cold for camping, and they say storms are coming."

"Yeah," Chris said absently.

∞

The phone rang just after they had eaten.

"Sarah?"

"You need to get to Norton's office. Now."

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Two young men, eighteen, went pigging. Missing. Ute's all dented, I'm here now."

"OK. Ok, I'll go now."

"Take Jon," she said before disconnecting.

"What is it?" Kylie asked alarmed.

"I don't know, Sarah wants me to go to Len's office. Now."

"On a Sunday?"

"Two young guys are missing in the Bush," he said pulling on shoes.

"You think?"

"I don't want to, it could be anything."

"But," she started and he grimaced.

"But, yeah."

∞

He went to the hotel and grabbed Jon on the way, not explaining anything and they found themselves in Len Norton's office.

"You can't do this, I don't care who you are," the shouting came from Norton's office and as they walked through the open door Chris saw that it was Tim.

"We just need to keep it on the down low for a couple of days," Norton placated.

"This is an issue of freedom of press," Tim argued.

"This is an issue about what is the best for those poor families and for Collie. Please, Mr. Richards, just run the story as is."

"But something's happening, you know it, I know it," he looked over at Chris, "and he knows it."

"What is the story?" Woods asked.

"Two young men have been attacked by either 'roos or wild pigs while they were camping," Norton said.

"And it's bullshit. Things keep happening and we keep getting left in the dark. Come on, Chris, since we talked I've been putting stuff together, I don't know what it is but something is being covered up."

"Tim," he said calmly, "I told you that if there was a story, I'd tell it to you and I still will, but for now there isn't one."

"Like hell there isn't, there's someone in the Bush killing people," Tim stormed.

"Look, Tim, is it? This isn't going to help," Woods said.

"And who are you?"

"I'm a specialist, I've been called in to see if there are any links. You will get all that we find so that the community is aware, but at this moment there isn't anything. If you go printing aspersions all you will do is cause panic and hinder the investigation."

"Leave the families to grieve, Tim," Norton said quietly.

He looked from one to the other, finally resting his eyes on Chris.

"And you?"

"I'm the one who called our specialist in, Tim, I want to be sure of the things I think before I say them."

Tim nodded.

"Fine. I'll hold out, but if I get even a whiff that you're holding out on me I'll go public with what I know."

"Fair enough," Woods said.

"Whatever," Tim said and walked out.

Len Norton watched him leave until Chris shut the door.

"So who the hell are you?" he asked.

"Dr. Jon Woods, Palaeontologist and Herpetologist."

"Means nothing to me."

"I'm the dino specialist."

"You know what, Chris?" Norton fumed. "It really could be kangaroos or pigs."

"But you're not sure," Chris said.

"Whatever the hell is out there in those damned trees, find it and kill it. Hunt it down. Do you hear me? Hunt it down."

"We've got a man on the way and school holidays start on Saturday."

"Then I guess we'll become the hunters," Jon said.

∞

The first half of the week went slowly, it was difficult to concentrate on teaching and keep excited students on track when he knew what the holidays contained for him. Thankfully a number of parents had already taken their kids on holiday to avoid the airfare hikes and others would leave towards the end of the week to avoid traffic or get the best camping spots. Chris couldn't believe that some families still went camping during the winter break, most families went north where the weather was warmer, but some still went south.

He was thankful that Kylie was going up to Perth to stay with her family; that was one less thing to worry about. Not that he was worried, it was all too much, too big and crazy to actually be able to worry about it, he wouldn't even know where to start.

He didn't see Jon, who was busy getting equipment and studying up on Australovenators and other dinosaurs that it could be. They still knew so little about dinosaurs on this continent and fossil-wise not much had been found in W.A.

It might not even be a dinosaur, they had talked about this on the Sunday night, that it may be something else, an evolution of another species, or of a dinosaur. It was still strongly believed that birds evolved from dinosaurs and maybe this was another evolution, rather than a direct line of dinosaurs. They were palaeontologists and so their minds jumped to dinosaurs, but they didn't know; all they knew was that something had made prints that looked like dinosaur feet.

And so, Chris worked during the day and planned for next term in the afternoons and drank wine and watched films with Kylie in the evening. Anything to not think about dinosaurs until Clive Turnbull turned up on the Wednesday.

BOOK TWO – THE BUSH
CHAPTER TEN

"So, you blokes must be Chris and Jon," the man said and they looked up from their table at the Feddy.

"I'm Chris, yes."

"Clive Turnbull, mate, nice to meet you," the older man held out a rough hand and Chris shook it.

Turnbull was around sixty with a tanned, craggy face and a thick moustache. He wore an Akubra hat and frayed bush clothes in greens and browns. Over all he seemed unkempt.

"This is Dr. Jon Woods," Chris introduced and they shook hands. "Would you like a drink, Mr. Turnbull?"

"Yeah, a cold beer after a long drive is as close to heaven as we'll get this side," Turnbull said.

"Please, sit," Jon said pulling out a stool. "I'm sorry, but did you drive down?"

"Yeah. Needed to bring all me gear, won't allow some of it on a plane," he grinned.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Jon said as Chris returned.

"So. A dinosaur in the woods, is it?" Turnbull asked.

"You believe us?" Chris asked.

"World's a strange place."

"Yeah, but generally not this strange," Jon said.

"No, true, but why would you make me come down here for nothing?"

"We could be mad," Chris said.

"You don't look mad," Turnbull replied. "Anyway, I've heard of this here Dr. Woods."

"You have?" Jon asked surprised.

"You're a herpetologist and so am I," he said. "In a way."

"In what way?" Jon asked.

"I know my crocs and snakes," Turnbull shrugged.

"Not quite the same," Jon said.

"Anyway," Chris broke in, "it's good that you believed us and came."

"So, you have maps?"

"Yes," Chris answered.

"Well, that'll be the first thing then. Got to find a way of getting in and out with the truck."

"That's not going to be easy," Jon said. "It's pretty thick Bush."

"Well, I don't know about you fellas, but I don't want to be walking around if there's a dinosaur on the loose," Turnbull said and Chris smiled.

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, how long before we go?" Turnbull asked.

"Saturday at the earliest," Chris told him.

"Fine. Time to study the maps, make a plan and get provisions in. We'll do that tomorrow. Let me ask you one thing though, can you handle the Bush?"

"Come on, Turnbull, this isn't necessary," Woods said.

"We're not taking a nature trail here, boys, not a day's hiking."

"You said you had read up on me, then you should know I've done my time out in the field," Jon said angrily.

"And your time in a cushy office. What about you, Chris? You're a Pom by the accent. How long have you been here?"

"Just a couple of years."

"Spent much time in the Bush?" Turnbull asked looking at him carefully.

"Not really, but look, don't worry, I've done my time out in the wilderness. I'm not going to complain about camping, if that's what you think."

"I'll tell you a story before bed," Turnbull said. "I was hired to take some scientists out up at Fitzroy Crossing, you ever been up there?"

"No."

"God forsaken place, and I don't mean that blasphemously. They wanted to go along the Fitzroy River, find some bull sharks. You know about bull sharks?"

"Yes," Woods said impatiently. "They breed in rivers, the young stay there for around five years, what's the point of this?"

"Well, we were on a boat, myself and ten scientists; they wanted to fish for the sharks, tag them so they could track their movements. It wasn't thought through, in my opinion, they were fishing themselves and the boat wasn't quite big enough.

"Still, I needed the money so I took them and it was actually going quite well, they were catching sharks, pulling them to the surface and tagging them. I was worried, you know, worried they'd pull up a sawfish, you know them? Got a nose that looks like a chainsaw, can grow up to twenty foot. But they didn't and the crocodiles seemed to be uninterested, well, until one realised what was going on. These sharks being pulled up and held still? It was an easy meal.

"I should have seen it coming really, I should have seen the croc approach. They had another shark alongside the boat and were tagging it when the croc got it from underneath and pulled it away in a death roll. Pulled the man holding the line straight in, plus the man leaning over to tag the shark. Another fell in from the waves rocking the boat. We lost another two as they tried to help the others back into the boat.

"The whole thing lasted less than five minutes, Mr. Thompson, the blood in the water attracted more sharks, and the men falling in brought the Salties off the banks. The water boiled and thrashed and was stained red in the feeding frenzy and then it was over. Five minutes for five men," Turnbull sat back and drank from his pint. He looked at each of them in turn.

"Even if I believe that," Jon said, "it was a freak occurrence. They could have fallen in the water and been ignored."

"I won't be joining you for a swim in the Fitzroy," Turnbull grinned.

"And anyway, we don't have sharks in the rivers down here, nor crocodiles," Chris said.

"No," Turnbull turned on him seriously. "You tell me you have a dinosaur. If that's true you better be ready for freak occurrences."

He sat back and looked at them.

∞

The next day Chris went to work and Turnbull joined Woods in his room to go over the maps.

"Well, first things first, what is that?" Turnbull pointed to an area coloured in black.

"That's the new mine site, Chris marked it on. That's the theory for how its here."

"What is?"

"That the clearing of the trees disturbed them, brought humans into their habitat and it followed the road down and towards town."

"Make your mind up, Woodsy, you're using all kinds of pronouns, is it one or a number out there?"

"I don't know. I don't think Chris has even thought about it."

"Well it can't have lived all these years alone, it must be part of a group."

"I know that," Jon replied testily. "Looking at the attacks I think there is just one which gives us two options.

"Either it has broken away from the group; lost them somehow, and has gone rogue; or it is the last of the pack and without the family group it is behaving differently. Either way, for now, I think that there's only one attacking people.

"Look at this map of the attacks."

He laid another map on the floor of his room as Turnbull sat on the bed with a coffee.

That looks like a good area to concentrate on Woodsy," Turnbull complimented.

The map had been marked with dots, showing the known attack sites along with the hearsay and then joined up.

"You wouldn't think there could be more than one in there and not get noticed."

"No, you're right, what are they, twenty feet long?"

"Yeah, six metres, but that is probably a maximum," Jon agreed.

"At that size they must be well camouflaged," Turnbull nodded to himself. "And fast. 'Roos and pigs, the odd emu, would be the food down here."

"The Australovenator has been nicknamed the cheetah of its time," Jon agreed.

"Fast and well camouflaged, hey? You any good with a gun?"

"A gun? Why?"

"Well, we'll have to shoot fast if it runs."

"We're not going to shoot it," Jon said horrified.

"What else are you going to do?"

"Trap it and tranquilize it. Or the other way round. We have to get this thing alive."

Turnbull laughed.

"You want to try and trap a dinosaur? Trapping crocs is hard enough. I mean, how're you going to get it out of there? Twenty feet long, maybe a thousand kgs, you'd need a flat bed."

"I hadn't thought about that, but can't you see this is the discovery of the century, any century. A live dinosaur to be studied."

"I think you have too many thoughts of glamour and wealth, mate."

"This is for science," Jon protested.

"Science doesn't need to know what dinosaurs were like."

"How can you say that? Studying a dinosaur would be a massive break through."

"Aye, to the study of dinosaurs, it's not going to change lives. 'Cept yours."

Jon just stared at him. He couldn't believe he was hearing this. What? Did this man not believe in scientific progress?

"You can't actually think that," he said slowly.

"The fact is, nothing is worth losing the life of one of us," Turnbull said forcefully. "Now, show me that map, we need to find roads in."

∞

Chris had met them that night and he could feel the tension between them. The scientist and the hunter. Even hunter was unfair, from what he had read online he was more of a trapper, catching and relocating animals, generally crocodiles. Saltwater crocodiles are protected, hunting them is illegal and Clive Turnbull was one of the few people who was allowed to. Even then he still needed to get permission from the Department of Parks and Wildlife and that was only as a last result and if said crocodile was killing people.

So he was there to study and help the crocodiles, something that Jon could surely relate to having spent his life studying them along with all the other reptiles and amphibians. But sitting in the pub that night, he didn't think they had bonded over a love of all things scaly. This was something they didn't need, not being stuck out in the Bush together.

"So what have we got?" he asked.

"The area's not well mapped," Woods said

"We've found some trails that go into the Bush, none that join up though," Turnbull said. "Seems the best plan will be to go in as far as possible, take a look further on foot and then drive round to the next spot."

"It's not great," Jon said. "We miss a lot of area unless we leave the truck behind."

"And that's our protection," Chris said.

"It sure is," Turnbull said. "Many, maybe most, people that are killed by crocs are out camping. Some are stupid enough to camp near the water, some are wise enough to camp away from it. The crocs still get them."

"We can't sleep in the truck," Chris said.

"No. Next to it, someone on watch. Jump in if we need to."

"It's not a great plan," Chris said.

"I don't think you should come anyways, mate. No offence, but you're a Pom, not used to this."

"As I told you I've travelled the World, hiked jungles, camped up mountains. Plus, this is my expedition."

Turnbull shrugged.

"You're footing the bill, you're the boss, but I do things my way. We're dealing with a dangerous animal, you need to be prepared and then act in the spur of the moment."

"I won't get in your way, Turnbull."

"You better not, mate."

∞

Finally school finished after possibly the longest Friday fifth period ever and he stuck around just long enough to wish people a good holiday and then drove home.

He had been quiet, withdrawn throughout dinner and now they sat with a glass of wine each.

"You're worried, aren't you?" Kylie asked.

"I am."

"But surely there's nothing to worry about, nothing out there."

"I know, I know, it just seems too mad and yet here we are with a Palaeontologist and crocodile hunter, ready to go out a-hunting."

"How did it get this far?" Kylie asked.

"You still don't believe it, do you?" he asked looking her in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it, it's too wild," she looked at him sadly and he shook his head.

"It is wild, I know, but sometimes things in life are wild, life isn't always what we think it is. Or want it to be."

"No, I know and Jon seems to agree with you. What about this other man, Turnbull, was it?"

"Yeah. He has no problem with the idea."

"Really?"

"Seems to think the World is a strange enough place to incorporate such things."

"Oh," Kylie looked down into her glass.

She felt bad that this man from up North believed her husband without any proof, travelled down because of it. Well, Chris had told her that Len Norton was paying him something from the budget, but still, it couldn't be enough to warrant coming all this way for something you thought was a hoax. But he didn't, it wasn't him that didn't believe her husband, but her.

"It's OK, Kyls, I understand."

"No. I'm sorry, I should believe you, I should be able to get over my doubts, because you have no doubts."

"I have doubts, believe me," he smiled.

"But you're going anyway, you think there's enough."

"There is, Kyls, there are too many disappearances and deaths. You know they still haven't found the bodies of those two boys that went pigging."

"It's horrible," she took a large gulp of wine.

"It is, and whatever it is, has to stop," he drank too.

"Could it still be something else, I mean could it really all just be unconnected. What they say it is?" she was desperate for it to be anything but what Chris thought.

Not only so she could believe it, support him, but also so that it was something less dangerous.

"If it wasn't for the footprints, I'd say it was all kinds of things. The girl on the bike? That's still hard to swallow as a car accident, but I probably wouldn't have even known that."

"Ignorance is bliss?" she smiled a little.

"It is isn't it? But it makes me wonder what else we are living in bliss about. What else is happening out there that we are ignorant of? What do politicians cover up and keep secret? What about big business?

"I mean, if it wasn't for these attacks we may have never found out about this dinosaur in the same way that we don't know what bankers and businesses are doing until they make some cock up, or someone blows the whistle."

"Is that what this is? Your chance to do something more with your life?" she asked a little crossly.

He looked at her sadly.

"No. This is doing what I have to do."

"I'm sorry," she looked down into her drink. "But can't you leave it to the police?"

"They wouldn't believe us, wouldn't put in the manpower for something like this. Not without some real proof."

"So it has to be you," she looked up at him.

He got up and hunkered down by her chair, putting an arm around her.

"I'll be alright, Kyls, I'm with professionals. No one's risking their life for this. Hell, if we can just get more evidence, maybe we can call in the police or army even."

She turned to him and took his hand.

"Promise me that, promise me you'll be careful, that you'll leave the risks to this Turnbull, even to Jon."

"I will, don't worry," he smiled and she kissed him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dr. Jon Woods sat in the bar of the Feddy Hotel with a pint of beer. He wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing here, surely this was crazy? Despite the evidence, now that they were actually going, his mind was struggling to accept it. They must have made a mistake somewhere, somehow between the three of them they had mistaken a large crocodile print for a dinosaur.

No.

That was even more stupid. There was no way they could, no way that it could be a croc, too big and not enough toes. He smiled to himself, but it could be a dinosaur! And this was the problem, wasn't it? When the most logical answer that you came to was also the craziest, the least likely. The most likely was the least likely, he liked that.

Should he have contacted Faith, his ex-girlfriend? Told her what he was doing, said goodbye or something. How dangerous was this going to be? Well, it was a dinosaur, but then dinos had never faced guns before. But would a gun kill it? Elephants take a number of shots to kill and the dinosaurs were thought to have scaly skin akin to a reptile. In fact the fossilised soft tissue of a Psittacosaurus had been found. It was two centimetres thick and the dinosaur was only the size of a sheep. How thick would a 6.6 metre long dinosaur's skin be? Would it be scaly or covered in feathers? They just didn't know enough.

"Hope you're not planning on being hung over tomorrow," Turnbull said sitting.

Woods looked at Turnbull's whisky.

"You're on the hard stuff, not me."

"We all need a little Dutch courage," Turnbull said.

"You're scared?" Woods asked surprised.

"You remember the first time you had to catch a crocodile? And there were experienced people there telling you what to do and when? And how scared you still were?"

Jon nodded.

"Yeah."

"And do you remember the first time that you were in charge? And you didn't think you could, didn't think you knew what you were doing. And going into it you realised that if you didn't know what you were doing, then no one there did?"

Woods laughed.

"Yes, I remember that well. That if I messed this up, made the wrong decision, then we were all in danger of getting hurt, maybe killed."

"Yup. Well none of us have ever hunted or subdued a dinosaur. None of us know what we're doing," Turnbull said and swallowed his whisky. "I'll get one for the both of us."

∞

The next morning Chris was up early as had been decided. The plan for the first day was to simply drive around as much as possible and look for evidence, anything that would suggest where the animal was moving and the hope that they would see it, flush it out and, what? Shoot it? Or tranquilise it? He wasn't sure what the plan was. Woods had talked about GPS tags to be able to find it again. Maybe even lure it out of the Bush and into somewhere where they could trap it.

Kylie was in the kitchen cooking a breakfast for him as he got all his stuff together for camping. She had tried again this morning to get them to come back to town at night, but it was too risky that they might miss it. Considering it had killed people during the day, there was the chance they could catch it sleeping at night.

He heard the kettle go and walked into the kitchen. He kissed the back of Kylie's head as she fried bacon and filled a cup full of coffee. She wore a thick dressing gown, it had been a fairly mild, sunny winter so far, but that had apparently changed and they said more rain was coming in.

They ate in silence.

"What time will you go?" he asked after they had finished.

"I don't know, I guess after you leave."

"I don't have to do this, Kyls, not if you don't want me to."

"Yes, you do. Someone has to and it's you," he could see tears in her eyes.

He got up and hugged her from behind.

"I'm just so scared for you, Chris," she wept.

"I'll be OK, I'm not going to do anything to endanger myself."

"But you don't know what might happen, no one does. None of you really know what you're doing."

"And that's why we'll be cautious, we won't do anything we think is too dangerous. We don't have to catch this thing, eventually there will be enough evidence to get someone else in."

"But by evidence you mean dead people."

"Yeah," he sighed.

She breathed in through her nose and wiped her eyes.

"And so you have to go out now and stop it. Stop it before it kills anyone else," she said with more resolve.

"Yes," he said straightening up.

She went for a shower and a few minutes later Woods and Turnbull arrived.

He made them coffee and they sat around the table.

"You ready?" Turnbull asked.

"As I'll ever be," Chris replied.

"We have no idea what we're getting ourselves into out there, remember that. Be cautious, whatever it is, it's not worth a life. You try and play hero and you endanger everyone's life, not just yours."

"I don't think I'm the hero type," Chris said.

"No. I don't guess you are," Turnbull said before sipping his coffee. "What about you Woodsy? You a hero?"

"We're going to go up to the new mine site and in from there. Then cut across what looks like an old path," Jon said ignoring Turnbull.

"OK," Chris replied.

"You don't have to come, you know that, mate" Turnbull said almost tenderly.

Chris looked from him to Jon and back again.

"Yeah, I do. You two'll kill each other before the dino gets a chance," he said and smiled.

Turnbull smiled back and then looked at Woods.

"That may well be true."

"Sleep with one eye open," Woods agreed.

∞

They got everything packed into Turnbull's utility vehicle, or Ute, what others would call a pickup truck; the cargo tray at the back now full of camping gear and other equipment that Chris did not recognise. It was a big and sturdy Ute, a proper off-roader with a duel cab, meaning that it had space for four people, though the two back seats had little to no leg room.

Chris climbed in the back with the maps and tried to spread out the one they needed as best as possible.

"You know where you're going?" he asked.

"For now," Turnbull agreed.

The town was as silent as they were as they drove out, passing a road train pulling two trailers and headed for the new mine site road.

The trees either side of the road were tall and dense, crowded with undergrowth. They looked dark and lush in the rising Sun and a kangaroo hopped across the road ahead of them.

Turnbull took all this in while wondering about this turn of events. He'd been planning for his own expedition up in Arnhem Land, doing whatever jobs he had to in order to raise the money and suddenly a whole new expedition had come about. He had no issues with dinosaurs in the Bush, there were plenty of stories both here and around the world of strange creatures that science deemed to be cryptids; that is creatures that didn't really exist such as the Yeti. Or were not believed to exist.

But then no one had believed stories of kangaroos at first, though common to everyone now, the first stories from settlers sent back to England would have sounded like inventions, a deer-like animal that bounced on its hind legs and was sometimes seen to have a second head protruding from its stomach? And Sri Lanka's Devil Bird was only scientifically recorded in 2001. Giant Squids have been the stuff of legend for centuries and still not much is known about them except that they are not myths after all.

Yup, he wasn't going to question that there was something in the Bush down here, but what it might be was another mystery. Even he struggled to believe dinosaurs had survived for so long down here. He knew of the Burrunjor of course, knew of it well, but the sparsely populated Arnhem Land and here were very different and could you really believe living dinosaurs, in the crytozoological sense, were so wide spread? But he had seen the casts they had taken and old Woodsy seemed adamant that that was the only thing it could be.

Could they do it? Could he hunt a dinosaur? Woodsy still wanted to try and capture it and that worried him. It was so much more dangerous, especially against a foe they knew nothing about. Thompson seemed like a good guy, someone you could be mates with, but he didn't think he would be much cop out in the Bush.

All in all he didn't like the situation, but it not only paid him what he needed, but was also a good test run for his own escapades.

"What do you know of the Bush then, Chris," he asked.

"How'd'ya mean?"

"Well, what are we facing?"

"Gum trees mostly. Lots of undergrowth to push through."

"Yup, reckon so. What about snakes? How'd you deal with them?"

"Make noise, tread heavy."

"Right. They'll mostly scatter before we get to them. If you do spot one ahead stop and let it carry on its way or find another path," Turnbull nodded.

"You're not going to try and school us all the time are you?" Jon asked.

"Not you, Woodsy, you think you know what you're doing, I'll let you make your own mistakes," Turnbull grinned to himself.

"The only mistake I've made so far was letting you come along."

"Calm it down, you two," Chris said. "Here. The turning is coming up."

They drove down the wide road to the new mine site. It was a long road, getting deeper and deeper into the Bushland with dense trees on either side. Turnbull slowed and stopped.

"What are you doing?" Jon asked.

"This is where it all started you think?" he asked.

Chris shrugged.

"It's just a theory, but it makes sense. You over fish the waters, you bring sharks closer to land and get more attacks. You cut down the trees and you push the animals to other places. They see humans as just another food source."

"Right. And this here road was a channel to follow. But it hasn't come into town yet and if it's eating 'roos, there are plenty more further in. Why bother?"

"As I said before, I think it's lost its family group and is behaving erratically," Jon said.

"Cows have been eaten," Chris said. "It may have found that humans and cattle are an easier catch than 'roos or emus."

"Right you are," Turnbull said. "But it'll be afraid of humans too. It won't be used to cars or other noises. At the moment anyway. So it's scavenging, but probably coming back to where it knows 'roos are to keep a regular diet."

"What are you saying?" Jon asked.

"That it's going to be difficult to find it. It doesn't seem to be hunting in one area. Our best bet might be to find the 'roos and lie in wait."

"No," Chris said. "We can't risk the town."

"Let's just stick with today's plan of driving around and having a look," Woods said.

"Well then, let's do just that," Turnbull said and got out of the car.

"Where're? Where's he going?" Jon asked Chris who shrugged and got out of the car.

By the time Woods had gotten out of the car Turnbull was at the tree line looking in. He then pushed his way through the undergrowth and Chris followed him.

"What are you looking for?" Chris asked.

"Me? Just looking."

"Shouldn't we go further up then?"

"Well, I'd like to get a quick look at what we're dealing with before we jump into unknown territory. There's no evidence of activity here."

"It rained quite hard a couple of nights ago. Night before you got in, I think."

"True, but I'd like to see a broken branch or something, a sign the beast has used the road as a guide out. Woodsy," he called.

"What?"

"Get in the Ute and drive it up slowly while we have a look see here," Turnbull called.

"We're wasting time and daylight," Woods called back.

"Just drive the damn Ute, Woodsy," Turnbull called back and began walking further in. "You stick closer to the road's edge, I'll look further in."

They walked along and Chris wasn't sure what he was looking for. Snapped branches and footprints he guessed, but the rain would have washed prints away and what kind of snapped branches? Big ones, probably. He smiled to himself at that. He came to a tree that had fallen over and walked along it until he reached the road. It had been sawn off and he remembered Sarah telling him of her flee down this road. He signalled to Jon who had stopped parallel to him and watched him get out.

"This is a waste of time," he said angrily, but Chris thought he was angrier at being ordered around.

"What do you make of this?" Chris asked him pointing to the tree.

"It's a gum tree, they fall over all the time."

"Come and look at the roots," Chris said and walked back. "Hey, Turnbull," he called.

They met at the uprooted base of the tree and both Turnbull and Woods walked around, inspecting it.

"It's not conclusive, but there is damage here, could be a hand, could be claws," Jon said.

Turnbull walked further out.

"Hard to tell after time and rain, but the undergrowth here looks like it could have been passed through."

"Any prints?" Chris asked and watched Turnbull squat down.

"Maybe here. You're the experts."

They walked over to him and hunched over indistinct indents in the ground.

"About the right size," Woods said.

"Yeah, and you can see some others, definitely in a stride pattern," Chris added.

"Nothing's definite at this point," Turnbull corrected.

"It's close enough to call it," Woods countered.

"As I say, you're the expert," Turnbull said looking away through the trees.

"Why is it that I take that as an insult?" Jon asked Chris.

"Leave it," he replied.

"OK, so we have some evidence, that's good," Turnbull said. "So far nothing to say that this is a regular thoroughfare though. Let's get up to the mine site."

He walked back over to the Ute and got in. Jon looked at Chris, shook his head slightly and then walked over to the Ute.
CHAPTER TWELVE

"Well that explains why there've been no more reports from the mine," Woods said.

Chris could see a number of large heavy diggers, back hoes and bulldozers. The sounds from their engines was deafening.

"Yeah. It'll scare away the 'roos too, means we'll have to go in deeper than we thought."

"Well let's still check around here, I don't want to miss something."

They drove up the tree line until they found what looked like a path, but was little more than a break in the trees and Turnbull turned down it.

It was slow going and bumpy. Chris had to put a hand to the ceiling to stop his head smashing into it. It wasn't really a path and they had to weave between trees trying to stay in the least wooded part, using the Utes 'roo bar to bulldoze the undergrowth.

"Old animal trail, maybe 'roos," Turnbull said.

"Or dinosaurs," Jon replied.

"Well I guess so," Turnbull grinned.

They drove for a little while longer before stopping.

"Why've we stopped?" Chris asked.

"I can pull a yewy here, I don't know about any further up. We don't want to get stuck trying to reverse out," Turnbull said. "From here we take a little walk."

They got out and both Turnbull and Woods went to the back and started foraging in their stuff.

Turnbull strapped on a belt that held a holstered pistol and a large Bowie knife and pulled out a heavy looking rifle.

"Blaser Ultimate," Turnbull told Chris. "Packing H&H Magnum 0.375 ammo. Should be enough stopping power."

Jon also pulled out a rifle, but this one looked different, a tranquilizer gun, Chris thought, and a Taser.

"What the bloody hell is that thing? An electric razor? You gonna groom it?" Turnbull roared.

"It's a Taser and I'll test it on you in a minute," Woods said through gritted teeth.

"Cut him a break, Turnbull," Chris said.

"OK, OK, you're the boss," Turnbull held up his hands. "Let's just hope it doesn't get close enough for you to be able to use that thing, hey?"

Turnbull started up what Chris thought of as the pathway and Jon followed slowly. He wasn't sure this was going to work, he didn't think the two of them would be able to keep things civil; what if they came across the Australovenator and couldn't work as a team to catch or kill it?

Maybe one of them should go home, well it would be Jon and he would refuse so that was out of the question. He would just have to try and keep the peace between them; what was the issue anyway?

He thought that Turnbull might actually feel threatened by Woods, by not being the expert for once. He shook his head and followed the others, he didn't want to get left behind out here.

"Look around," Woods said.

"That's what we're doing here, Woodsy" Turnbull replied.

"No. The trees are pretty dense here, Australovenator is big and fast, this isn't the place to be hunting. Not without knocking trees over."

"What're you saying?" Chris asked.

"The path we drove down might be a way in and out of here, but if it is then this is a place to hide, not to hunt. Look around for some kind of nest."

Turnbull nodded.

"It's a fine point, there's no sign of broken limbs, look around Chris," he said.

And so Chris began searching the floor for something that looked like a resting place for a dinosaur. Jon had called it a nest, did he mean like a bird? Or would it be a hole like Kangaroos dug out to lie in during the day? He was reminded again that they knew so little about what they were hunting and he knew so little about the Bush.

He stood and looked around him, the trees were dense here, dark and green though in a lot of places the trees were further apart and the undergrowth grew wild, filling in the gaps, rising above his head.

"Worried about the Bush?" Turnbull asked him.

"You mean other than getting eaten by a dinosaur?" he smiled and Turnbull laughed.

"Right. I keep forgetting that one, it's still a bloody hard thing to believe. Even for me."

"Can't argue with you there."

"Still, Chris, the Bush isn't such a dangerous place, mate. Old Woodsy was right about Fitzroy River, it was a freak occurrence, people think the Bush and Outback are dangerous, but, well, you ever been on the Internet?"

"Once or twice, yeah," he smiled.

"Of course. Well, you know what Australia is famous for on the Internet?"

"That everything wants to kill you."

"That's right," he nodded. "Had to go on there as part of putting together some tourism thing up North, safety guide and what not.

"Anyway, it's not altogether true. There are dangers, but if you plan, if you think and act safely, there's not much to hurt you."

"No. I know that, it's just, I don't know. In England you grow up with an idea of the Bush and then you live in it and it's just normal and now here we are in the thick of it."

"We're not in the thick of it yet, mate," Turnbull said. "Got ways deeper to go yet."

"Found anything?" Jon called.

"Nothing," Chris replied.

"That's because you're playing friends and not looking."

Chris sighed and walked on looking through the undergrowth.

∞

"So why'd you move to this fine land?" Turnbull asked Chris as they bumped back along the path.

They had found nothing and having agreed that the machines would scare off even a dinosaur they decided to move on to another part of the Bushland.

"Married an Australian. It was decided that it would be better for her to be close to her Mum when we had kids."

"So how many you got?"

"None so far."

"Hm," Turnbull snorted. "Problems?"

"I don't think that's anything to do with you."

"On your part or hers?" Turnbull pushed and Chris sighed.

"We haven't been to a doctor yet."

"Well, get on that, better to find out early."

"You speaking from experience?" Woodsy asked.

"Plenty of experiences in life if you get out there and live it, Woodsy."

"What're you suggesting?" he asked testily.

"Me? Nothing, mate. Merely saying that things don't have to happen to you for you to know about them."

"What about your family?" Jon asked Chris. "You miss them?"

"Sometimes. I miss getting to watch my niece grow up. But we Skype my parents nearly every week, man, Skype is a brilliant invention. We don't talk to my sister that often, but my niece at least knows who I am and can see me."

"And you Woodsy? You married?"

"I'm more interested in you," Jon said. "A wife? Kids? Or do you roam the Bush alone? A lone soldier?"

"Well, here's the mine site," Turnbull said instead and turned right and followed the road back to the Ute. "Where we going next, Chris?"

"Uh, get back to the road and turn left."

∞

It was slow going, trying to push through the bush, trying to find ways deeper in. The Ute got bogged twice after heavy rains and that ate up more of the short winter day. They made camp for the night next to the Ute and close enough to a road that they could hear the occasional car pass. It always amazed Chris how quickly the body reverted back to pre-civilised days. It was nowhere close to his normal bed time, but with no artificial light, they were readying to sleep with the sun down. Being winter, that was not much after five. The people in town, his own wife and her family in Perth might only just be sitting down to dinner.

"So you've done stuff like this before, huh?" Turnbull said. "Just not here."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, warming his hands around his coffee. "Last time was North West Thailand. Near the Golden Triangle."

"Thailand, huh?"

"You've been?" Chris asked.

"Not for a long time now. Liked it though. How about you, Woodsy?"

"No. Too expensive from the East coast. I've been to Vanuatu a couple of times."

"You're missing out," Turnbull shook his head.

"I have to agree with him. I love Asia."

"You worked over there, you said?"

"Yeah. English as a Foreign Language."

"Thought you were like Woodsy. A Palaeontologist."

"I am. Was. Tough gig to get into and, I don't know. I ended up drifting."

Turnbull chuckled.

"I can appreciate that. I spent some time in my youth drifting around Asia. Strange days."

"Till you joined the army," Chris said rather than asked.

"Right you are. Sorted me out, the army did."

"What about you, Jon?"

"Nah, he studied, didn't you, Woodsy?"

"Don't think you know me, Turnbull," Woods angered, but Turnbull smiled.

"Young 'un to be a doctor. Must have gone straight through. Nothing wrong with it, Woodsy."

"Alright. OK, yes I did. I knew what I wanted to do and I did it."

"I wished I'd known what I wanted to do," Chris said. "I wish I did now."

"Well here's your chance at a new career, Chris, mate. Dinosaur hunter," Turnbull laughed to himself. "It get you where you want to be, Woodsy? All that study?"

Jon looked down into his coffee. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, the embarrassment that this battered old sod could read him so well.

"It got me a lot of paperwork and an office," he admitted without looking up.

"Aye," was all Turnbull said.

∞

They were up early the next day and continued checking the places they'd marked on the maps, but found nothing. Chris began to get disheartened, but he wasn't sure about what. Was it that he wanted to find a dinosaur or was it that not finding one meant the deaths and disappearances were left inexplicable.

It was much later as they walked through the trees, having checked a few other areas, without being able to push very far in. Here the trees were spread further apart and Turnbull had managed to drive quite far into the Bush.

They had fanned out and looked for any sign of the dinosaur. So far they had found very little, nothing concrete. It was hard to tell what was natural degradation and what had been made by something passing through. And even then it could be pigs, 'roos or even emus, plus it had begun to rain and that made it harder.

"Here," Woods shouted. "Here!"

They rushed over to him and he pointed left and then right.

"Undergrowth has been trampled," he said breathlessly.

"No denying, but by what?" Turnbull asked.

"Well let's look then," Chris said.

There was a definite line of trampled undergrowth, like a path through the trees and they spread out along it looking at the bushes and grasstrees, checking the trees.

"It's an old path, but this trampling is recent," Woods shouted.

"Aye, but I see nothing special," Turnbull said.

"What else could it be?" Chris asked.

"Well, the damage is separated so it could be the stride of a dinosaur, but a large 'roo could hop that distance."

"I don't think so," Woods said. "It's stretching it."

"It's not impossible," Turnbull corrected.

"Well, look for prints," Chris said and they set off again scouring the floor.

It was raining harder now and that just made it hard to concentrate on the task in hand and harder to determine any tracks.

"Here, well I'll be, here," Turnbull called and they ran over to him.

It was dissolving in the rain, but it was clearly not a Kangaroo print.

"Yes," Woods exclaimed. Finally they were getting somewhere.

"OK. So this is where we stay tonight," Turnbull said.

"Right," agreed Woods. "Chris, go back to the Ute and get the maps, we need to mark this on."

Chris walked back to the Ute, it was hard to see through the trees with the rain and that unnerved him. They were in an area they knew the dinosaur walked through. Was it regularly or just a one off? Was it out there now? Close by? Or would it wander along it's pathway while they were there unprepared? He stopped and looked around him. He thought he had heard a noise, but it was impossible to be sure over the sound of the rain.

He squinted through the rain and the trees, taking it all in, but he couldn't see anything. He was just getting jumpy. He walked on again, but stopped as he was sure he heard a noise to his right. He stood and looked that way, the rain was slowing now, but the Bush was just so hard to look through. He didn't know why, but even the widely spaced trees seemed to form a wall. There was another rustle and he jumped and scanned the trees, trying to see something. There was another noise and his throat dried up. He realised that he was looking too low, that an Australovenator would stand at least his height, and that was just at the hip, its head would be above him.

He raised his head and scanned, trying to find something that didn't fit, something that wasn't wood or leaf. He didn't know what to do, would a noise scare it off or just lead it to attack? Should he stand still or make a run for the car that he could see in his peripheral vision.

There was little evidence to tell them how good the Australovenators vision would be, but he guessed that if it was out there it could see him. Was it taking its time, figuring out what he was, or waiting to see what he might do? Or maybe he was imaging the whole thing.

Suddenly the Bush came alive as a large Kangaroo leapt up and bounded away. He jumped, stifled a cry and then let out a long deep breath and put his hands on his knees; he felt dizzy and sick and let it pass before he stood up again. He turned and jogged to the car and got inside. He sat there for what seemed like a long time, but was actually only a minute as he let his heart slow down before grabbing the maps and jogging back to the others.

"There you are," Woods said testily.

"Sorry," he panted.

Turnbull looked at him closely.

"You OK?"

"Yeah, a 'roo scared me is all."

Turnbull laughed.

"Makes sense there'd be 'roos around to hunt."

"If the dino comes through here, wouldn't they leave the area?"

Turnbull shrugged.

"Not necessarily, animals don't always put the two things together, but they know that a place is their territory."

Woods pulled the maps out of their plastic covers and spread one over his knee and tried to mark a line to represent what they had found.

"We need to find out how far this goes and where it comes out on each end," Chris said.

"Right," Woods agreed. "But I need to get some stuff from the Ute first."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Woods searched through the back of the Ute while Turnbull and Chris looked out into the trees.

"Strange to think it's out there somewhere," Turnbull noted.

"Yeah, it suddenly seems a lot more real. You know every time I've been in the Bush since this started I've been scared, but in that way you're scared of sharks in the ocean. You know they're out there and that scares you, but deep down you know that one isn't going to come into the shallows for a bite.

"Or when you watch a horror film and then you get up in the middle of the night and even though you know it's just a film you're scared of the dark."

"Can't say I watch many films, mate, but I know what you mean. Irrational fear."

"Right. That's how I've felt, but now; now there is a real threat out there, we could get attacked right now and I feel less scared."

Turnbull turned and looked at him for a few moments, looked him in the eye before looking him up and down.

"I'll tell you a story from when I was young, one of the first times I was out camping, learning about the Bush. I woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee. I got up and did my thing in the trees away from our tents and got back into my tent. Just as I was drifting off I heard a shrieking noise; you ever hear a fox?"

"Yeah, back in England, like a woman screaming."

"Bloody oath, one of the worst animal sounds out there I reckon, but I'd never heard a fox before and so my mind translated it as children in a far off playground. It was soothing in that way until I suddenly remembered I was in the middle of the Bush. I snapped awake then and listened to it, sounded like a woman being raped or some ungodly demon. It was terrifying, but my mind put it down to geese. Can you believe that one?

"Anyway, I think that when you're young and you hear the house creak your mind allows you to think of ghosts and ghoulies because deep down it knows what it is, but when the mind hears or sees something it cannot comprehend, something that might be real danger, it manages to find an explanation to stop it going mad with terror."

"You're saying that the mind deals better with real danger than with perceived?" Chris asked.

"Yup. In this situation, your mind knows that it can't be scared, it has to be clear and logical if you're to escape with your life," Turnbull nodded and turned back to the trees.

"OK, here we are," Woods said and they turned to him.

"Another grooming utensil?" Turnbull asked.

"It's a tag gun. Shoot this at something and it affixes a tag that can be tracked by GPS," Woods explained ignoring the jibe.

"You want to see where it goes on dates?"

"Come on Turnbull," Chris pleaded.

"OK, OK, what are you thinking Woodsy?"

"I want to capture it, Turnbull wants to kill it; either way if we can tag it we can follow it. How are you at shooting, Chris?"

"Never shot a gun in my life," Chris replied.

"Look," Jon said seriously, "Chris is in charge here, we have to agree on that here and now."

"He's paying my bill," Turnbull shrugged.

"So whatever happens, he decides how we deal with this."

"Get on with it," Turnbull said.

"This is what I say. Turnbull is probably the best shot so he takes the tag gun, so if the dino escapes we get a second chance. I take the tranquilizer to try and subdue it and Chris, being the worst shot, takes the gun."

"So that he can't hit it and it survives," Turnbull said peevishly.

"That's what I want," Woods said seriously.

"Chris?"

"I think he's right. Turnbull you might be able to shoot it dead with one shot, but none of us know that. We don't know how thick it's skin is or where the best place to aim for is. The best thing for us is to be able to track it. And if Jon gets a shot and puts it to sleep then we can still kill it if that's the best thing to do."

"I don't agree that we can capture this thing, I don't see how we can get it out of here without luring it near a road. I don't think it's wise in any case, but I also can't flaw your logic. I'll take this tag gun thing."

Turnbull began setting up a little camp next to the Ute while Jon and Chris went opposite directions along what Chris now thought of as the path. It was beginning to get dark now and so they could not go far. They met up again close to the Ute.

"From what I can see it goes on for some distance," Chris said.

"Same the other way, tomorrow we'll have to go further along," Jon replied.

"I don't think we should be splitting up."

"Perhaps not," Jon agreed. "To think, there's an actual dinosaur out there, we can't let Turnbull kill it."

"I understand where you're coming from, Jon, I do, but he's also right. It's risky trying to keep it alive and how are we going to get it out anyway?"

Woods looked into the darkening trees.

"We know it's getting close to town, it got right up to the Highway; we could lure it."

"Closer to town? Closer to people? We can't do that, we'd risk their lives as well as our own."

"Then we plan, we make sure before we do anything."

"Nothing is fool proof, Jon, you know that."

"We can't lose this opportunity, Chris, we can't," Woods said strongly.

"OK. We think, we plan, we see if there is a way, but if there isn't, if there is any chance of things going wrong we don't do it."

"Good enough for me," Jon replied and they walked to the little fire that Turnbull had made.

"Jon? You've seen King Kong right?" Chris called after him.

"I take your point."

Turnbull had a billy can on the fire boiling water.

"Tea for you two?" Turnbull asked and they both nodded as they sat on the ground.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Chris asked.

"We wait and watch, we sleep. I don't think this thing is going to sneak up on us, too big," Turnbull said.

"Whoever has watch has the tag gun. I'll get my camera out too, if we can photograph this thing we can go back for help," Woods said.

"That's a good idea, I'll take the camera, I can't shoot a gun, but I can shoot a photo," Chris smiled.

"And if anything goes wrong, if you don't feel safe, get into the Ute. Don't risk your life for that photo or that shot. If you're unsure, get in the Ute, that's the rule," Turnbull said sternly.

He checked the water and then poured three cups of tea. Woods got up and grabbed his camera and three torches and then they sat there looking either out into the trees or into the fire in silence drinking their tea.

The darkness had come quickly and the trees became a black wall. It was getting close to a full moon and Chris hoped that the clouds would clear enough for that to shed some light, he hated the darkness, hated the muted light for showing up all that they couldn't see. He wondered how far the light of the fire reached, could the dinosaur see it? Would it be attracted to it or stay away? Bush fires were a regular occurrence, indeed some plants such as the grass tree needed a yearly burning to grow. Would the Australovenator fear fire? Surely it would, surely it would know now to stay away from areas that were ablaze.

Could this be a tool, could this be the way to force it to a place where they could more easily capture it? He smiled to himself, now he was thinking like Jon, and why not? This would be an incredible find, it would change the way dinosaurs were studied. But then again, Turnbull thought it was dangerous, hell it was dangerous, even Turnbull couldn't know what to expect. Was knowing about dinosaurs worth the risk?

It was something he had learned becoming a teacher. All those years as a palaeontologist looking into the past, at something that, in discovery, did not help to further the human race, but teaching was helping the new generation to be the best they could be. Building a future world that could be brighter and better, giving those kids a chance to do what they really wanted to do, or at least get the best job they could.

It was a fallacy of this generation telling kids they could be anything they wanted to be; to follow their dreams. Yes, follow your dreams, just make sure your dreams are realistic.

Was teaching worth dying for? Yes it was. Teaching got a bad rap, partly because everyone went through school, everyone thought they knew what teachers did. Stand up and talk and set homework and tests, but it was one of the most important jobs in the world; it was setting up those kids for life. Not just to get a job, but teaching them how to work as a team, how to socialise, how to play sports, how to make the right choices and follow the laws and rules that society sets down. And also to think about those rules and laws. That was probably the most important thing about teaching, teaching kids to think.

The past teaches us so much, many lessons that go unheeded and repeat themselves, but unless it looks to the future it is merely an interesting past time. And really, was palaeontology anything more than that? Something interesting?

OK, no. He was being unfair, it was more than that, it does add to our understanding, not least of events that haven't happened in our lifetimes, but could happen again. But was a living dinosaur going to teach them enough to risk capturing it? In this day and age what would it become more than a money making tourist attraction?

"It makes you wonder what else is out there," Chris said.

"How'd you mean?" Jon asked.

"Well, if this dinosaur has survived then maybe Nessie or Big Foot or the Yeti aren't so crazy anymore."

"Nessie and the Big Foot photos have been admitted as fakes," Woods said.

"Aye, but it's no longer impossible for them to be real, is it?" Turnbull asked.

"Well, no," Jon replied.

"Screws science up, doesn't it?"

"Not at all, Turnbull. Science changes with new findings."

"That's what gets me about you scientists," Turnbull grinned. "You deny everything that you can't prove and then when it comes along you shrug and say 'that's science for you'."

"That's ridiculous," Woods argued. "If scientists thought like that there would be no hypotheses. What you're talking about are things that can't exist or that there is simply no evidence for at all."

"Like living dinosaurs?" Turnbull asked smugly.

"What is your problem?" Woods burst out.

"I don't like the way scientists tell us what is and what isn't; tell us what to believe according to what they know when what they know changes."

"You can't be serious about this," Woods exasperated. "Science tells you what is there, what is real, how the world works, it's not forcing a belief system on you."

"Let's just cut it, OK?" Chris said. "We're here to do a job, let's just do that."

They fell into silence.

Jon couldn't believe the gall of this man, the nonsense that he was spouting; what did he want? No more science? Or for scientists to keep their mouths shut, not tell people about the World, not investigate, let everyone think what they liked whether it was right or not? Did he want us all to worship the Sun?

But, fine, he was right, scientists said that dinosaurs didn't exist, there was no evidence for them; they laughed at crypto-zoologists for being kooks wanting to believe in monsters and fairies and yet here he was. Chasing a dinosaur. A living breathing dinosaur. No one would ever believe him unless they caught it alive, hell, many would not believe a corpse was real, let alone a photo. It would be authenticated of course, but people these days were so used to hoaxes and Photoshop that by the time it was shown to be real no one would care.

"What about ghosts?" Chris asked.

"Don't push it," Woods replied.

"Why not?" Chris responded. "If there are living dinosaurs then why not? Everything we've been told that is not real comes into question."

"No it doesn't, there is still a scientific explanation for this, dinosaurs existed and somehow by a freak of nature this one still does. Ghosts and goblins were never real to start with."

"There we go again. If science can't explain it, it can't be," Turnbull grunted.

"But science is real. It's all about real life, everything has to fit within it."

"Says who?" Turnbull asked. "Says scientists. Look at you, you're arguing one thing while living another."

"No. I agree that this is crazy, that I'm having to rethink things, but that doesn't mean you fling wide the gates, you throw out the whole of science or reason."

"He's right," Chris said. "But I still can't help thinking that I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Believe me," Turnbull said, "the World is a strange place."

"Even I can agree on that one," Jon added.

∞

Chris awoke sometime in the night, though he knew not why. The moon lit the Bush in an eerie ghost light and he could see Jon getting out of his swag. He did the same and saw Turnbull standing looking at the path. He held his hands out, palms down in a gesture of staying still. Under his feet Chris could feel a slight vibration and now he could hear a rumbling. Was this it? Was the Australovenator bounding down the path towards them? He was frozen to the spot, not knowing what to do. Should he stay still or go for the gun? The rumbling grew in volume until a large mob of kangaroos came bounding past them on the path. Chris thought there must be at least fifty of them, big 'roos too, it was a breathtaking sight in the moonlight and took maybe three minutes for them all to pass and another couple for the rumbling to die out.

And then the Bush was silent.

"Wow," he said.

"Quiet," Turnbull warned.

They stood there, not moving, watching the path, but nothing came and finally Turnbull sagged a little and turned to them.

"Nothing following them," he said.

And then there was the noise of thudding from where the 'roos had disappeared. Thudding like giant steps.

"Grab the guns and torches," Woods commanded and they rushed for them before running to and along the path.

They ran up quite a distance, their lights hewing and hawing in the air, hardly needed in the bright moonlight.

As they ran they heard two loud grunts and the crash of a tree breaking before they stopped. They could see the trees and undergrowth swaying and Chris thought he saw something disappearing into the tree.

"Look at this," Woods said.

Chris shone his light down on the carcass of a large kangaroo. It looked like it had been bitten nearly in two and he jerked his torch back to where he had seen, thought he had seen, something disappearing into the trees.

"Looks like we disturbed it," Turnbull said. "Our torchlights waving around probably."

"It wouldn't have known what they are?" Chris asked.

"It's smart then," Woods said. "Fled the unknown rather than blindly attack it."

"Agreed," Turnbull said. "But that means it might come back, sneak back to try and find out."

"Let's get back to the fire then," Chris said anxiously looking around.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Though it was Jon's turn for sentry Chris no longer felt tired and decided to stay up, but Turnbull ordered him back into his swag to at least be rested. It only took a few minutes for Turnbull to be snoring and somehow Chris must have fallen asleep as he awoke suddenly with the low Sun streaming through the trees and into his eyes.

Turnbull was already up and had the billy boiling over the embers of the fire. Woods walked back from the path carrying a camera.

"It's incredible," he said. "Looks like it came out of the trees and just bit the 'roo in half. That's a hell of a set of jaws."

"If it's an Australovenator it might have used its claws first, any evidence?" Chris asked.

"No," Woods shook his head. "Looks like an attack with the mouth. There's more blood though, looks like it might have taken another 'roo with it."

"We should check that out," Turnbull said. "But first, tea."

He poured them all a cup and Chris found a banana to eat. He wasn't thinking of anything now, he couldn't, it was too real. To think about what they would do today was to run screaming through the Bush, maybe make it home and never get out of bed. The world had changed for good and if you thought about it you'd never be able to go back to your life. The thing under the bed was real, the thing in the closet or in the dark. The only way to go back to teaching or to Kylie was to face this head on. To go out and find it using rational techniques. Hunt it like his students might a pig or anything else that was normal to find in the Bush, bring it into your world, not slip into the madness.

Turnbull got up and went to the back of the Ute and rifled through their stuff as Chris and Jon rolled up their swags. Turnbull came back and they threw their camp stuff back into the Ute as he ground out the fire with his boot.

"Here. Radios," he said throwing one to each.

"Check the area of the dead 'roo and then up and down the path, we need to see how far it goes," Woods said.

"That's it Woodsy. We may not need to move from this spot."

"What about what you said? About it coming back to find out about the torch beams?" Chris asked.

"That's why you have a gun and a radio," Turnbull told him.

"Just don't go too far," Woods said.

"And if I come face to face with a real, living dinosaur?" Chris asked.

"Roll into a ball and hope it swallows you in one," Turnbull said with a wink.

"Not helpful, Turnbull."

"Anything. I mean anything, a rustle in the trees and retreat," Woods said.

"You gonna run away from a little wind in the leaves, Woodsy?"

"It was you, Turnbull, that said this wasn't worth our lives," Woods said angrily.

"Ah, but now I got the smell of the hunt in my nostrils."

"I don't think I'm never going to work you out, Turnbull, and I hope that's true," Woods said. "Come on."

∞

They walked onto the path as a light rain started and soon they found the 'roo carcass. They all bent over it and Woods moved it around with the end of his tranquilizer rifle.

"Ragged, but not as if it had to shake. You were right, Woodsy, one clean bite," Turnbull said standing up.

Chris kept looking at it. It was a big 'roo, probably as tall as he was when it was in one piece. He could see how it had taken the girl on the bike. Just the same as this, hiding in the trees and then striking down swiftly. This thing was fast and quiet and they still hadn't seen what it could do with its claws.

"Blood goes this way," Turnbull said and he and Woods stood up.

They pushed their way into the undergrowth that was thicker here, it was amazing to Chris that so little was disturbed other than a thin gum tree that had obviously been broken recently. He thought of what he had seen the night before, a tail and legs disappearing into the trees, something impossibly large, hell something impossible for this area. For this Millennium.

"Little to no devastation here," he said.

"No, it can move," Turnbull said.

"That means that the path is either well used by it or already trampled clear by 'roos."

"Good point," Woods said.

"So either it's been going up and down here for a long time or it moved here, found the path and sits and waits for kangaroos to use it," Chris said.

"If that's true then perhaps we can bait the path," Turnbull said.

"Kill a 'roo?" Woods asked.

"Yup."

"Would it go for a dead animal?" Chris asked.

"Many lizards are known to eat carrion," Jon replied. "It's worth a try."

∞

They walked further into the Bush looking around for the blood trail which Turnbull easily picked up. Chris searched the floor for prints and found only one or two clear ones, but the undergrowth made it hard to see them and after a short distance he stopped looking too hard. He considered that, unless in soft earth, the Australovenator might only leave prints when it moved fast.

"Look at this," Woods said excitedly and they grouped around him.

In his hand he held the leg of a large kangaroo.

"Look at this, these marks are probably where the dinosaur held the leg in its hand, maybe ripped it off as it swallowed the rest."

"No claw marks," Chris said disappointed.

It would be the claws that would mark it as Australovenator rather than an Ozraptor or something else in the Tyrannosaurid genus that had short forearms.

"No, the leg's too thin, but I believe this shows that it used its claws," Woods said.

"More importantly the trail goes cold here," Turnbull said. "Look around for other evidence."

They searched around for broken twigs or branches, for footprints, but the undergrowth grew thicker, the ferns grew up to six feet, the smaller trees to twenty. It was impossible for them to advance without real work and it was decided to go back to the path and see how far it went.

∞

"If this is a path that the dinosaur uses, should we be walking up and down it?" Chris asked into the radio.

"We want to find the dinosaur, remember?" Woods replied.

"Well, yeah, but not like this," Chris said.

"He's right," Turnbull came across the radio. "We need to set up a trap."

Chris stopped and looked around, the Bush was lighter here and he could see a good ways in, not that there was anything to see other than the birds flitting about. Of course the whole area was alive with snakes, spiders, insects as well as the birds and 'roos, it was a massive ecosystem teeming with life. He just couldn't see it.

He looked down the path and could see no end to it. Or maybe he could, it was hard to judge if it was narrowing at the horizon or was actually blocked.

"I think we could be spending our time better," he said into the radio.

"How so?" Woods came back. "We need to know if this is how the dino is moving and where it is getting to."

"We already know where it's got to. The road, the farm, I'd like to look at those spots."

"It's a good call," Turnbull said. "But I'd like to camp here again tonight, reckon I got an idea for a trap."

"OK," Woods merely responded.

∞

They sat silently in the Ute as Turnbull drove out of the trees and finally hit a sealed road before following Chris' directions to the Dennis Farm where the cattle had been taken.

It seemed weird to him that they were back in civilisation, that though they had gone deep into the Bush, they were out of it in just over an hour. All this, houses, farmland, roads seemed so remote once he was in the Bush, so far away and out of reach that he hadn't thought about coming back to it so soon. Or being able to come back to it.

It was amazing how much he wanted it now he had it again, wanted to go back to his own bed and to his wife though she was by now up in Perth. He knew that he wasn't really up to it, this hunt, maybe he should bail out now and leave the other two to the Bush, but he knew that could not be. For one, he had started this, but for two they needed at least a three man team to do this, if for no other reason than to cast votes on what should be done and when, something they still had not agreed on.

It was going to be too difficult trying to explain to the Dennis' why they were on their land and how they would fit in with the cattle killing without mentioning dinosaurs so they pulled up on the side of the road as close as possible and walked into the Bush.

It was thick with undergrowth over their heads and they used their machetes to cut away at it where they couldn't push through. Woods had warned them to go slow and look for any signs of the dinosaur pushing its way through. Chris hadn't seen anything and pushed his way towards the pasture land of the farm where the undergrowth thinned considerably. He pulled out his map and found the Dennis Farm on it and then chose a point roughly where he was standing. From there he drew a line to the known part of the path and then drew a dotted line extending the path and drew a line out from his location until it met the path. He checked by his compass and then began to walk that way scanning left and right until he found, or thought he found, what he had hoped for.

The undergrowth further to his left seemed thinner and he walked over to it and looked forwards and back towards the farm. It could be that the undergrowth was thinner because kangaroos came back and forth through here, from the path to the grass to eat. He walked onwards more hopeful of finding the path and he nearly missed it, nearly walked across it without realising. It was thinner here, less distinct and he guessed that was because the 'roos were thinning in numbers by this point, some already having gone through the trees and into the pastures.

"I've found the end of the path," he said into the radio.

"Shout out so we can find you," Woods replied.

After only a few minutes they were standing together again.

"Yup," Turnbull said, "I agree. Kangaroos made the path over the years, the dinosaur must have found it hunting them."

"It means that our camp isn't so definite," Woods said. "The dinosaur might not come back to that spot again for days, hell for all we know that was the first time it had ever been there."

"No. Once it found such an easy way to travel it would," Turnbull said.

"It doesn't need a path to get through the undergrowth," Woods challenged. "We know it was here, but there is little to no evidence that it passed through."

"Yeah," Chris agreed. "It seems to be able to push through with ease, I'm starting to think that finding those first prints was a fluke."

"Be that as it may, I still say we camp in the same spot for two reasons," Turnbull said. "One, the dino has been using the path, maybe it only discovered it the day it took the cattle, followed it down here, but since then it would use it. Two, I still think it will come looking for the source of our torchlight. I think we could use that to lure it in even."

"That's our trap?" Woods laughed. "The lure of torchlight? I think we can do better than that, don't you?"

"Luring it with meat tells us nothing. Anything would come for an easy meal, but only a smart animal would come to discover what torchlight was."

"Well, let's try it," Chris said. "We don't even know if it would be attracted by dead meat anyway."

"If that's the way of it, let's get back and set up camp," Woods said.

"I want to walk back along the path," Chris said.

"Seems like a good idea," Turnbull agreed. "Why don't you drive back, Woodsy?"

"Why don't you stop calling me that? What are you going to do?"

"I'll take the tag gun, Chris here will take the rifle."

"So you can kill it," Woods said blankly.

"Nah, mate, you want to knock it out so you should have the tranq. gun, wouldn't want to force your hand into killing it."

"I'm not going to kill this thing if I can help it," Chris assured him.

"And what are your thoughts for the camp?"

"There's rope in the Ute, tie it between trees, high up though, we don't want this thing to step over it. The rope with the bells attached to it," Turnbull said.

"Bells? How very hi-tech of you," Woods mocked.

"If it works, it works," Turnbull shrugged. "Don't need no fancy kit with a five minute battery life."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Woods had left for the Ute and Chris and Turnbull had started along the path. It wasn't much of one, just a line of less dense undergrowth that wound through the trees, but after half an hour or so of walking they were in denser Bush and the path was wider and more pronounced.

"I think you're right," Chris said.

"About what?"

"About the dinosaur finding this path and following it to the cattle, I don't think it's been in this area until recently."

"It gels with Woodsy's theory."

"What theory?"

"That the dinosaur has either left its group, or that group has died. Either way it's exploring a new area, that's how it strikes me anyway."

"I never really thought of there being more than one. But of course there would have to be, wouldn't there?"

"Sure, mate."

"Do you think it's the only one?"

"So far. I think that if there was more than one in the area we'd know about it."

"Fair point."

"And as I say, it seems to be exploring a new area. If there are or were others, they're not from round here."

They walked along in silence. Chris wondered if there could be more than one out there, but Turnbull was right, creatures of that size would be obvious if there was more than one. Could be two though, he supposed. It was something to keep in mind.

They continued to walk, Chris lost in his thoughts until he was pulled out by Turnbull's voice.

"Woodsy?"

"Here."

"Shh."

Chris looked over at him as he spoke into the radio. He was whispering and there was obviously something wrong. Chris looked at the thick Bush that surrounded them, he felt suddenly cold, but sweat popped on his brow.

"Woodsy. Are you at the camp?"

"I am," Woods whispered back.

"Grab that tranq. gun and start walking towards us."

"Why? What's happening?"

"I think something is stalking us."

Chris stopped walking and looked around.

"Don't stop walking," Turnbull hissed. "Just be ready with that rifle, don't try and shoot it, just fire upwards."

They walked on and now Chris could hear it, something pushing through the undergrowth to their right. He couldn't see the undergrowth moving so it was in deeper, whatever it was.

"Do you think it is?"

"I'm assuming the worst," Turnbull said looking at the undergrowth.

It was so close to them, the path wasn't that wide, not nearly wide enough for Chris, if he reached to his left he could nearly touch the wall of undergrowth there, an Australovenator could easily reach out and swipe at him from the Bush; a sudden, deadly swipe of a clawed hand and it would be all over for him, he wouldn't even see it coming. Or that huge open maw coming down from above him, enveloping him before snapping shut.

Sweat rolled into his eyes and he swept it away.

"Should I just fire a shot to scare it?" Chris whispered.

"No. We don't know what it might do, only fire a shot if, when it attacks," Turnbull replied eyeing the tall ferns beside him. "Don't try to aim."

"Why isn't it attacking?"

"Who knows? Maybe it's not hungry, maybe it's trying to work out what we are," Turnbull replied.

"It's eaten humans before."

"Yes, but instinctually. How many cyclists had it watched before it decided to chomp one? Remember, most shark attacks are simply test bites and they generally decide we're not worth eating."

"Remember that a test bite from a Great White is still fatal," Chris replied.

"So assume it's full and has never seen people around here, it's curious as to what we do."

"I can only hope you're right."

"There's something you have to face here, Chris, that if that thing wants to kill us we stand very little chance of surviving. For all our skill and preparation you're gonna have luck to thank if you manage to walk out of these trees alive."

"Turnbull?" Woods came quietly across the radios.

"Still here."

"Where?"

"You recognise any of this?" he asked Chris who shook his head.

"Further than Chris walked this morning."

A tree cracked to their right and Chris felt his heart skip a beat or two. Turnbull cocked his head.

"I think it's stopped moving," he said and Chris nodded his head.

"The path bends left up ahead," Turnbull said to the radio.

"There's a right turn ahead of me, let's hope it's the same one."

"Why? You wanna bump into a dinosaur?"

"Kind of why I'm here, Turnbull."

"Maybe it could take you out to dinner," Turnbull suggested.

They picked up their pace a little, Chris desperately wanted to run, it was every instinct in every nerve, but Turnbull had warned against it. Animals' instincts are to chase running people.

He tried to listen to the sounds in the Bush around them, but it was hard to hear over his own heart thudding in his ears. Still he thought that whatever it was still wasn't moving, in fact he could hear nothing from the trees. That unnerved him, if even the birds had fallen silent, then something bad was present. The dinosaur could only be metres away from them and Chris had no illusions that that was what it was.

A dinosaur.

An Australovenator, probably, was stalking them in the trees.

It made him feel light headed, it made him want to curl into a ball and rock, he wanted his Mother or his wife, someone to hold him and tell him everything was going to be OK. He wanted to vomit and weep with terror, he wanted to switch the bedside light on and chase away the shadows.

"Moving again," Turnbull said quietly and Chris' head snapped behind them.

They got to the corner as Woods did.

"Where?" he whispered.

"Behind and to the right," Turnbull replied.

"You think..." he started, but Turnbull nodded vigorously.

"Let's go," Chris whispered.

And they began to back around the corner holding their guns out. It was pointless for Chris who was shaking too much and he kept his finger out of the trigger guard for fear of accidentally shooting.

They walked some distance backwards before turning around and walking quickly to the Ute. About halfway there the birds began to chirp, cheep and chatter and Chris relaxed a little. A lone Kookaburra wound up and let out a chattering laugh at them.

∞

They ate a small meal after finishing off the ropes and bells. They were tied around the trees roughly five feet above the ground to ensure that the dinosaur would walking into them, hopefully be confused by it and give them more time. They'd also turned the Ute around for a quick getaway if it were needed, though Jon still scoffed at the idea that the dinosaur would come for their lights.

Chris didn't think it mattered anymore, he knew it was the dinosaur that followed them today, he knew that it was unsure of who or what they were, but he didn't think that that was the case anymore. They had been no threat to it, given it no reason to stay away from them and so he thought that when darkness fell it would come to check on them.

And as the Sun set and the bright moon rose they could hear the kangaroos making their way in the trees, no doubt they would pass by them on the path. The kookaburras broke out in their laughing calls and spread through the trees as if the whole Bush was laughing at them for their foolish endeavour. And when it got darker Turnbull turned on his torch and began waving it about.

Chis did the same, pointing it in another direction, holding the rifle in his other hand. He heard Woods sigh as he got up and started waving his own torchlight in another direction.

"This is stupid," Woods said.

"Shut it," Turnbull hissed. "If it comes it won't just come rushing in. Listen for it."

They waved their torches around in silence before Turnbull gave a sign and clicked his off. They followed suit and stood there silently staring into the moonlit trees.

Chris could feel his heart thud slowly in his chest, he was beyond terrified and into a calm almost trance-like state. An Englishman standing there in the middle of the Australian Bush with a gun he didn't really know how to use waiting for a dinosaur to turn up and most probably rip him in two and eat him. His brain shut down, stopped thinking about it lest he go mad, instead it focussed on the little things, the breeze in the trees that made the shadows waver on the ground, the sound of the light rain through the leaves, the feel of it as it touched skin, the sound of the branches swaying in the breeze, the croaking of frogs and the buzz of insects.

This was not how he thought his life would go, yes he had always wanted to do something important, special, to not just be another statistic in the annals of Births, Deaths & Marriages, but this was not what he had been thinking of. This was not the place he had thought he would be, perhaps cease to be, but had he come for that reason, not to die, but to really live? Or to die doing something important? Was he really that stupid, that selfish? To throw away everything he had just to say that he had done something more than others?

Had he secretly wanted to come chasing this dinosaur to be able to say that he had done more with his life? Had it been an unthought-through extended middle finger to life as a teacher? Had he been cruising unhappily through life and not realised it, or had he actually had contentment and happiness and failed to acknowledge it? Or wilfully denied it so that he could still carry his dreams of being something more? He couldn't think about it, he couldn't know and it didn't matter now, he was here and if he survived this ordeal he would have to re-evaluate his life.

So he stood and listened to the sounds of the Bush, the crunches and the cracks, the sighs and the whispers.

And then a bell rang.

∞

Jon Woods was scared. It was impossible not to be in such a situation, but he was also annoyed and scheming.

He was annoyed that this thing had been put into Turnbull's hands even though it was the very reason they had called upon him. It was just that he had assumed he would have some control over the proceedings; that the hunter would merely hunt for them according to their plans. His plans. And perhaps it would not be an issue if they weren't standing around hoping that flashlights would attract the beast. This wasn't a trap, this wasn't properly planned out, it was half-arsed at best and lethal at worst. Perhaps he should have put up more of a protest, insisted on sitting in the Ute where there was a modicum of protection.

He looked over at Turnbull who was waving his torch light again. He didn't seem too bothered about being in the open, didn't seem to worry that they had not discussed back up plans or discussed the potential ways that this could play out other than getting in the Ute. Was it because he knew something that Woods did not or was it that Turnbull was more of a fool than he had first thought?

Flashlights and ropes with bells, he had to think it was the latter, that the man was old and foolish, that he had no real idea what they were up against and had taken control anyway. Proud and foolish. But that was why Woods was thinking, was thinking of what to do if the dinosaur came at them, how to react depending on which side it came at them from. He was glad that Chris had the gun, there was little chance of him hitting the dinosaur which left him with the tranquilizer gun. If he could hit the dinosaur they could use the 'roo path to drive out, it was a much better option than how they had come in. With the weight of the dinosaur on the Ute they would get bogged down or not be able to get out fast enough, but the path would lead them close to the farm they had been at. He could call ahead for some kind of flatbed lorry or helicopter. It could work as long as Turnbull didn't get his hands on the rifle.

Whatever happened he was ready, ready to shoot and ready to save his own skin if it came to that. He wasn't going to die trying to save the other two if they had not had the forethought to work out an escape plan.

And then the bell rang.

∞

Turnbull was scared, but he didn't acknowledge the fact, he'd been in too many dangerous situations in his life to be too worried about where he stood now. It wasn't the first time he had stood there ready to face an enemy without knowing exactly what that enemy might do. Or who the enemy might be. He'd spent too much of his life fighting the Taliban in both Iraq and Afghanistan and you never knew if locals were for or against you, you never knew who might spot you, give away your position deep in enemy territory. He was ready for what might come out of the trees.

Perhaps he should have put Chris in the Ute though, he wasn't a fighter, wasn't even a Bushman. Woodsy he could trust to look after himself, he'd worked with crocs, he knew what danger was, what it looked like, smelt like, but Chris didn't. You could see that he was scared, scared all the time and Turnbull couldn't blame him. If this was like nothing he had ever done, what must it be like for a Pommy teacher? But they needed the third man, they were surrounded by the Bush, and this dinosaur could come at them from any angle, any speed and it could be Chris' fear that would save him, make him ready to run, to hide.

He flashed his torch into the trees again and the corner of his eye picked up that Chris followed suit. Woodsy didn't, he didn't think this would work, but he was underestimating the creature. An intelligent creature would come and they needed to know that. Needed to know if it was thinking or acting on primal instinct; that would make all the difference to how they went about things later.

And then the bell rang.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Later they would guess that the dinosaur had either come in under the rope and brushed the bell with its back, or simply touched the rope out of curiosity, either way it came in fast.

The bell rang and then the thudding started, the thudding of feet; Chris turned to his left to see the monster approaching through the undergrowth. It was big, even with its head close to the ground, at least seven feet and it's mouth was opening, opening wide, full of sharp teeth and below that the claws, hanging down as it ran, but ready to grasp and tear.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, seeing that gaping mouth coming towards him he should have dropped the torch and fired the rifle, but his terrified mind switched on the torch instead. The dinosaur swung its head up and away from the light, it staggered left with the momentum as its right claw came swiping across at Chris who fell to the ground instinctually.

Turnbull and Woods were trying to get a shot, he could see them in his blurred vision and he fell on his side, dropped the torch and hefted the rifle. He could see the beast turning back to them, perhaps it was roaring, he couldn't hear anything, and then the rifle bucked in his hands and the dinosaur swung its massive body around, the tail swinging over his head as he fell back and then it was gone.

Blackness.

"Chris? Chris?" someone was saying from the void.

He opened his eyes slowly to see Jon standing above him.

"What?" he croaked.

"You passed out, get up, get in the Ute."

"Where?"

"Get it together," Woods snapped and walked away.

Chris shook his head and got up slowly. He was alright, just fainted. He looked around and could see Turnbull on his knees with Woods standing over him.

"What's going on?" Chris asked.

"The tail got him, right in the side."

"Is his OK?"

"He's not dead, he can hear you," Turnbull said crossly.

"Sorry, I'm just..." Chris trailed off.

"You just messed it up," Woods angered.

"Leave it, Woodsy," Turnbull grunted as he got up.

"Are you OK?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, hit me at the end of its turn, more like a good punch or running into a wall. If it had kept turning I don't think I'd have any organs that weren't bloody liquefied."

"Get in the Ute, Chris," Woods commanded.

"I said leave it, Woodsy, he was scared, any man would be."

"He frightened it off, I had a shot," Woods thundered.

"It'll be back," Turnbull said feeling his side. "We all need to get into the Ute."

Turnbull picked up his hat and put it on as Chris walked over to the Ute in a daze, he was in shock, he thought. It had been so big, seeing it for real was nothing like the pictures he had seen, the images in his mind. Big and filled with sharp teeth.

He stumbled up into the back of the cab and closed the door before closing his eyes.

"Here, drink this," Turnbull said and he opened his eyes.

They were sitting in the Ute now, the windows were down and they had their guns propped through the open windows. Had he passed out again? He thought so. There was a hip flask in his face and beyond that Turnbull's face.

"Drink this," Turnbull said again. "A little whisky to bring you around.

Chris took it and let the alcohol burn down his throat before passing it back. He looked out of the window into the trees; they were still lit by the bright moon but it had begun raining harder and he wondered how long he had been out. The whisky was burning in his stomach, but it was refocussing his mind.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Woods sighed from the driver's seat.

"It's OK. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have accused you, you acted on instinct. You're not used to this."

"Maybe I should go home."

"No. We need you here. You've had a taste of it and you'll do better next time, you'll be more prepared for it," Turnbull said.

"It was the most terrifying thing I've ever encountered," he said and Woods laughed.

"You and me both, look at my hand," Woods said holding up his shaking hand. "Instinct took over, but now the adrenalin is wearing off, I'm having trouble dealing with it. A real life dinosaur."

"Let's see your hand, Turnbull," Chris said.

Turnbull held up a completely steady hand.

"Not even a dinosaur can faze you?" Chris asked.

"I've seen a lot in my time."

"So what is the most terrifying thing you've seen?" Chris asked, but Turnbull remained silent.

Woods looked at him and then back round at Chris.

"Well, I'll tell you mine," he said. "We were up in Northern Queensland, they'd found a new type of lizard they said, well not new, one that was thought to be extinct. Now that I think of it, perhaps it was one of the reasons I came over here, part of my brain accepted that extinct animals could survive.

"Anyway, we went in to verify it, make it official. It was allegedly a type of goanna and after a fruitless couple of days we found one.

"We wanted to tag it, find out where it was going, hoping to find more, work out how many there were out there. It wasn't a big one and so I chased it, trying to catch it. I know Turnbull will think I was stupid, but we couldn't know when or if we would find another one."

Turnbull grunted at this.

"Perhaps I was tired or too excited, too inexperienced at the time, but I chased it, head down arms out and pulled up just short of falling into a billabong. I don't know how big the Saltie was, but it snapped forward and only falling back saved me from its jaws. It all happened in slow motion, that gaping mouth coming straight at me.

"I was lucky. It was morning and she hadn't spent enough time in the Sun to have her full energy and we also discovered a nest there. She was weak and protecting her nest rather than trying to eat. Later in the day she would have had me," he shook his head remembering it.

"Hush now," Turnbull said and Chris tensed.

Both Turnbull and Woods took up their guns and pointed them out of the windows as they all listened. And then came the thudding as the dinosaur picked up speed and came at the Ute. It banged straight into it and it shuddered on its suspension as they were knocked about.

Chris could see it out of the window, right up against the car. He could see its scales and the green-brown mottling that helped it blend into the trees. There was a bang above him as it brought its head down on the roof; then a terrible scraping sound as it dragged its claws across the roof. He heard the dinosaur yelp at the sound and saw it take a step back before crashing a clawed hand straight down on the roof, piercing it. Now the dinosaur roared as it tried to pull its claws out, again shaking the cab.

Turnbull was turning in his seat, trying to get up and out of the window while the beast flailed and then it was free and backing off as Turnbull sat in the open window aiming over the roof. Woods was also shifting himself to get a shot, but the dinosaur was moving around the back of the vehicle. It must have smacked at the back with a claw as the vehicle shook once again and Turnbull was forced to use a hand to stop himself from falling out. And then there was a clap as he fired and the dinosaur roared, hit the car again and fled.

Turnbull slid back into the car and they sat in silence letting their hearts calm, their heads stop spinning, their bones settle.

"Did you get it?" Chris asked.

"I think so," Turnbull muttered.

"Chris, my tablet is in the seat back, pass it here," Woods said.

He did so and Woods switched it on. It seemed to take forever and then the screen lit up and Woods started tapping at the screen.

"So what is all this?" Turnbull asked scanning the trees.

"GPS overlaid onto a map of the area. One on the dinosaur, one in the tablet. Unfortunately not great maps, this area hasn't been mapped in detail, but... yes. I've got it."

"Where is it?" Chris asked.

"Moving away from us to the South. I'm going to zoom in as much as possible and see if there's any way to drive."

He fiddled with his tablet, pinching the screen. Turnbull watched him before commenting,

"Technology," Turnbull said. "It's a different world now. Came upon us so fast we couldn't keep up."

"It's pretty amazing what technology can do now though," Chris said.

"I guess, I'm not all that sure I know what it can do and I fear for the things we are losing."

"OK, I think our best bet is to try and drive down the path and hope it doesn't thin too much," Woods said.

"Give me the tranquilizer gun, Chris you take this," Turnbull said passing the tag gun back before taking the tranq.

"OK, let's do this," Woods said and started the engine.

He had to do a three point turn to face the other way and then take it slowly through the trees to the path which he turned left on and started driving south while Chris had the tablet on his lap tracking the dinosaur. It was fast, the moniker of 'cheetah of its time' was true, but now it had stopped.

"It's stopped," Chris said. "About a kilometre ahead of us."

"Man, it's fast," Woods said.

They continued along the path, the undergrowth thick and close on either side of the car.

"It can't get much thinner," Woods commented.

"Eventually we were always going to have to go out on foot," Turnbull said.

It was another ten minutes or so, Chris couldn't be sure, time was warped out here, when the Australovenator began to move again.

"It's coming back, circling to the left. What's it doing?"

"It's unsure of us. Stop the car," Turnbull said.

"What do you mean, 'unsure'?" Chris asked.

"Nothing's ever attacked it before," Woods said stopping the Ute.

"Right. And the guns are even newer to it, though at this point only as noise makers. It doesn't know whether to run or to face us. It will want to see whether we follow it if it runs," Turnbull said.

"Well, it's moving quickly, only half a K' away to our left."

"It's circling, trying to get in close and see what happens. Trying to get behind us."

"You think it's that smart?" Woods asked.

"I'm going to assume it is, Woodsy. Safer that way," Turnbull said.

"In that case," Woods said, "we need to keep pushing on. If it sees us as a danger it will want to get away and that might push it too far in or out into another suburban area. It needs to know that we're something to be hunted."

He switched on the engine and started to drive forward again. The path was getting thinner now, the undergrowth scraping against the Ute.

The red dot on the map stayed still for a while and then began moving again, closer to the car and then pacing it.

"It's out to our left, moving alongside, maybe only five hundred metres," Chris told them.

"If it attacks now, we have no good chance of hitting it, we need to find somewhere we can make the plays," Turnbull said.

"Anything on the map?" Woods asked.

Chris zoomed out and used his finger to move the map around.

"Looks like there may be a clearing further along and to the west," he told them before moving to find the GPS marker.

He couldn't, he ran his finger this way and that and then zoomed out further before finding it and zooming back in. To his horror he saw that the two GPS marks were close. Very close.

"It's coming at us," he cried as the undergrowth to the left shuddered.

The Australovenator grabbed the roof of the Ute with its claws and slammed its head down on it. The roof buckled a little and the dinosaur gave a pained roar. Woods sped up as much as he could and the dinosaur was left behind in the trees, but it rallied itself and came up, grabbing the tailgate, its powerful claws sinking into the metal and ripping it away at one hinge as the dinosaur was forced to let go and move around some trees.

Chris still couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was so real and yet so unreal, he could see it moving in the undergrowth, see its mottled scales, feel the vibration of its feet as it ran, see it's chest rise and fall as it attacked the car.

"We can't have this if the path runs out, we'll be sitting ducks," Woods said.

"I don't have the space for a shot," Turnbull said. "It's on you, Chris, mate."

"What?"

"Wind down your window, move back so the barrel doesn't poke out and shoot the bloody thing."

"No," shouted Woods.

"Just got to scare it, Woodsy."

"Don't hit it," Woods warned.

"I don't think that will be a problem," Chris replied before winding down his window.

He was terrified, breaking whatever protection he had between him and the beast and he scuttled to the other seat as quickly as he could, pulling the rifle up and pointing out.

"Hold your fire till you see it," Turnbull instructed.

He could still see the dinosaur pacing them and then it angled in at them, giving off a great roar. Chris did his best to aim at it in the bumpy car, he knew Woods wanted it alive, but at this point he was ready to kill it, ready to end this nightmare and go home.

There was a thinning in the undergrowth and the dinosaur turned towards them. Chris shut one eye and aimed at it, it filled his whole vision, this monster from another age, and he fired, but the car bounced in a rut knocking the barrel up. The shot was deafening in the confines of the cab and he saw rather than heard the dinosaur roar and turn back in the trees.

His ears were ringing and he was shaking from the adrenaline, but he managed to wind up the window and grab the tablet that had fallen into the foot well. It was going away and going fast. He sighed and shook his head.

"Gone?" Turnbull asked through the ringing.

"For now," Chris nodded.

Woods was shaking his head to clear the ringing.

"Don't think we have much road left."

"Then we get out here, we don't want to get the Ute stuck," Turnbull said and Woods slowed the vehicle to a stop. "We're going to get the stuff, we'll get yours, you just sit and watch that dot thing."

"OK," Chris replied and the other two got out, pushing the doors open against the Bush.

"Take as much as we possibly can without encumbering us," Turnbull said.

"What does that even mean?" Woods asked.

"It means get as much in the rucksacks as humanly possible," Turnbull scowled.

"Weapons and food over clothes?"

"Bloody right, I hope we'll not be here long."

∞

They had their big packs slung on their backs, Turnbull had the tranquilizer gun slung on his shoulder and Woods had the rifle similarly. Turnbull had given them all a pistol for their belts and they each carried the machete he had given them earlier.

Chris wasn't using his much though as he followed the other two through the dense Bush. Instead he kept an eye on the tablet. He didn't like carrying the weapons, he feared anything dangerous, a gun, a knife. He was scared of using the machete lest he slipped and cut himself, was scared of accidently shooting himself or one of the others, but he was even more scared of the tablets battery going flat. Woods had brought along a backup, good for one extra full charge, but he didn't know how long a full battery would last.

Worse still, the dinosaur was behind them. A way off, wary of the guns, but still following them. Though it was hard to say for certain, it was regarded that dinosaurs, especially carnivores, had a good sense of smell used for tracking prey. It was somewhat backwards engineering from birds, using skulls to model olfactory bulbs, the part of the brain for smelling. If the scientific models were true then it made sense to Chris that the Australovenator was tracking them by their smell. It was keeping roughly the same distance behind them as they moved slowly through the Bush.

"Still on the right track?" Woods asked.

"Yeah," Chris replied.

"The dinosaur?"

"Still behind us."

"Tracking us by scent?" Woods asked.

"I reckon so," Chris agreed.

"There are so many questions we could answer, so many theories we can prove."

"Let's focus on the task at hand," Turnbull scorned, slashing through ferns that grew above their heads.

They continued to push their way through until they came to an indistinct kangaroo path, just a line of thinned vegetation where the 'roos travelled up and down the same path. It sped them up though, being able to walk freely and it seemed to take them to the clearing. Perhaps it was a little area of grass that the 'roos fed on.

"It's moving," Chris said. "Around to our right, but keeping the same distance."

"You think it knows where we're going?" Chris asked.

"I'm going to say yes," Turnbull said from the lead, "but we don't even know if it has been here before."

"If the new mine site was its stamping ground it is far from home," Chris said.

"But with that speed? It could go great distances for food," Woods replied.

"We know so little," Chris said morosely.

"We know enough," Turnbull said firmly.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

They continued on, hacking at the overhanging branches and ferns. They had to stop often for Turnbull to clear away spider's webs that hung across the path; it was a constant reminder that the dinosaur wasn't the only dangerous thing in the Bush. They couldn't risk injury or being bitten by something; that would mean getting back to the Ute and Chris didn't think the Australovenator would let them. Or maybe it would let them go, thinking that they were no longer hunting it, no longer a threat, either way he didn't want to find out.

He looked down at the map and saw that they were nearing the clearing and that the Australovenator had moved around the other side of it. What was it doing? What was it hoping? Had it picked up another scent? Kangaroos perhaps, or some other easy meal for it.

The undergrowth thinned, the trees becoming farther apart and the undergrowth was short and shrubby. And then they were in a clearing, perhaps sixty to ninety square metres, Chris couldn't be sure, but it was big enough that they could camp in the middle and have enough space between them and the trees. Well, nothing was enough space in Chris' mind, but the space would give them enough time to get a shot off and they would have to hope one was enough.

Woods bent down and felt the soil.

"Looks like a Bush fire went through and this area just never grew back, or at least not as quickly."

He was right, the only plants were a scattering of grass trees and the grass was kept short by 'roos.

"Why not?" Chris asked.

"Maybe the soil," Turnbull said. "Too sandy or rocky, too shallow or whatever. Let's make camp in the middle. Where's the beast?"

"Still hanging back about five hundred metres in front of us."

"Good. Keep watching that thing, I want to know when it moves."

∞

They had set up a small camp in the middle of the clearing and Turnbull had cooked up some food. The dinosaur had circled them again and then moved off so that Chris had had to zoom out of the map. Judging the distance he thought that it had gone back to the path, probably to eat. At that distance though the map was too indistinct to tell exactly where the dinosaur had gone.

"What do you think will happen?" he asked watching the Sun slowly sink over the trees.

"Hard to tell," Turnbull said. "It will probably try to attack under cover of night."

"Almost a full moon, that will help us," Woods said.

"Get up, Chris," Turnbull ordered as he stood. "We need you to be able to use the tranq. gun."

Turnbull grabbed the gun and gave it to Chris and then led him through how to aim and how to breathe before he pulled the trigger. After that he grabbed the rifle and chose a grass tree.

"You've got three bullets to practice with, we can't waste too many. Do what I told you, feel the kick when it fires."

Chris aimed up on the grass tree and took a breath, letting it out slowly before squeezing the trigger. The rifle kicked in his hands and the bullet went wide.

"And again," Turnbull said.

∞

Woods watched the first shot before lying down, they were going to need to rest while the dino was out of the area. It would have to end here, whatever way it did. They couldn't go on much longer like this, he could feel the tiredness and stress running through his body; he just wanted to sleep. Even he was now considering just shooting it and being done. He didn't like being out here in the open, away from the protection of the Ute, his muscles and tendons were taught and his mind wired. The only protection they had was the GPS tracker and the distance between them and the tree line; they wouldn't get a second shot before it was on them.

He thought on his life back over East, he thought of his ex-girlfriend. That seemed like a lifetime ago now and he was surprised by the time he had spent heart broken, it seemed so pointless now. Now, in the face of death, all those silly things he had spent time and energy on seemed foolish; had he wasted his life? Was Turnbull right? That studying dinosaurs was nothing more than a hobby and he should have devoted his time and brain on bettering the Earth, Humankind?

It was stupid to think that way, what he had done he had done, you couldn't change that, but he could change his future. If he had one.

He was woken up by Chris who gave him a cup of coffee.

"I fell asleep?" he asked and Chris nodded.

He looked up at the sky to see that the moon was up, bathing the clearing in its bright, ghostly light. By its position in the sky he didn't think he'd slept long and his joints ached from it.

"Where is it?" he asked before taking a sip from his coffee.

"It's come around closer again, but still about a kilometre away," Chris told him.

He looked around and saw that Turnbull was asleep in his swag.

"My turn for watch?"

"Yeah. Turnbull wants us all rested, he thinks it will go down tonight. Unless something happens wake us both in an hour," Chris said and got up.

He got into his swag and his mind turned to blackness within seconds.

In his dreams it was dark, but he knew he was in bed with Kylie, back at home. But something was wrong. He lay there in the darkness and listened. He could here heavy thuds and hear snorting and he knew that the Australovenator was in his house. How could it be? Had it followed him home? Had they not killed it? What did it want with him? Why was it following him, why had it come into his life at all?

He wanted to get up and see, wanted to fight it before it reached the bedroom and Kylie, but he couldn't move. He was too scared to get out of bed in case that would tip off the dinosaur to where they were. But if he didn't then it would come and he wouldn't be able to fight it, it would eat them both without a thought and then it was there standing in the door way.

Somehow he managed to sit up and look at the dinosaur that looked back at him.

"No one likes change," the dinosaur said to him.

"What?"

"Everyone wants adventure, but no one likes change. No one likes not knowing," the dinosaur said.

"That's not true," he stammered.

"Everyone wants order out of chaos, but that is not how the World works. So you shut it out, try to explain it all and then cling to those little parts you can explain."

"We wouldn't be where we are if that was true."

The dinosaur laughed.

"Everything at arm's length. But not me, not now," the dinosaur said and then it lunged, its mouth open wide, saliva dripping from those razor sharp teeth and then he was awake.

He unzipped his swag and sat up rubbing his eyes. He looked around and saw Woods standing over Turnbull who sat in his swag.

"Ahh, was just about to wake you," Woods said to him.

"I'm awake," he replied and got up. "Where is it?"

"It's in the trees where we entered, not far in, I think it's trying to work out what to do," Woods said.

Turnbull added wood to the little fire and set the billy on it for tea and passed out some chocolate and a banana each. It was difficult to sit there and eat knowing that the dinosaur was stalking them in the trees, but Chris knew he would need the energy and forced the food down.

"That story about chasing the lizard into the crocodile, how does this compare?" he asked.

"This is definitely scarier. I'm terrified if I'm honest," Woods admitted.

"Same here," Chris agreed. "It's just constant isn't it?"

"What about you Turnbull?"

"No human couldn't be scared. It's good for you, keeps you sharp as long as you don't let it control you."

"So, up until now what was your scariest moment?" Chris asked.

"I was in the Special Air Service, the SAS, in Afghanistan. We were sent out to scout the area, try and find where the Taliban were entering and exiting the mountains. We knew roughly where it would be so we went in to find it, hiding in an outcrop of rocks above a valley.

"Problem was that you never knew if the locals were on your side or not so you had to keep away from them. Not an easy task as shepherds and the like roamed the mountains. Laying there in cover you never knew whether someone was going to chance upon you and whether they would send up an alarm. In a way that was worse than the tension, wondering whether you were going to have to shoot an innocent.

"After a couple of days like that, hot days, cold nights, not much to eat, we finally saw some movement. Over the day we started plotting where people were going, trying to get it as exact as possible and then the next morning there was some big movement, lots of people moving in for an offensive against the nearest American base over the mountains.

"I don't know how or when we were spotted, but they knew we were there and as we were watching the movements a group of Taliban fighters were moving up on our position. It gets blurry here, we realised just in time, but with no option other than to fight our way out. There were only six of us and I don't know how many Taliban, bullets were thick in the air like rain; we took cover in the rocks as best we could until a helicopter gunship went overhead and fired on their positions. When the smoke cleared I found I was the only one to get away alive," he shook his head at the memory and drank his tea. "This dino does what it does, to feed, to survive. Why's it hunting us? Because we're a threat to it's existence, competition for it's food. Why do we fight? I don't think that's the reason, least not anymore. We're starting more wars than we're ending and for what?"

"We're out her to protect the town," Chris said quietly.

"Aye, we are. That's why I don't want to catch it."

"I don't follow," Woods said.

"This is it, primeval. Fighting to survive, it's not an exhibit, it's not a sideshow. We make everything fit to us. We kill all the sharks because we want to swim in the ocean. Want not need. No balance."

"And you think going out and hiding in the Bush is the answer," Woods asked. "That's it isn't it? That's what you do. The world scares you so you hide."

"I guess so," he admitted a little sadly. "But you can't escape the world can you, gets even in here. That's why we're here, ain't it? The need for more black rocks?"

They looked at him in silence.

"Once a jolly swag man camped by a billabong," Turnbull sang, "under the shade of a coolabah tree, and he sang as he watched and waited til his billy boiled."

They both joined him.

"You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me."

And then Turnbull turned soft:

"Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong

You'll never catch me alive said he,

And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong:

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

"You never get used to living in fear," he said and stood. "Now where's that dinosaur? Let's take the fear to it."

Chris looked at the tablet, the GPS point was moving along the tree line as if it were pacing. He showed the tablet to Woods and Turnbull who grunted.

"We need to flank it," he said.

"It'll smell us," Chris returned.

"But it won't be able to go for all three of us," Woods said.

"But the one it does go for is as good as dead."

"Shoot it," Woods said. "Just shoot it."

"We won't be far from each other and on radio contact," Turnbull said. "The best thing is to try and push it into the clearing, that'll give us our best shot at it. We'll use the torches on my signal."

"So who goes deep?"

"I will," Turnbull said. "I'll go far left and then circle around. Don't move from here until I contact you. Hopefully it will stay fixed on you."

"And if it doesn't? If it chases you?" Chris asked.

"Then I'll shout and you come charging in. Just don't shoot me," he gave a weary grin and then set off along the clearing.

"It just gets more terrifying, doesn't it?" Chris smiled.

"It does, I think Turnbull likes it like that," Woods smiled back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Bush was dark shadows and bright moonlight, stark black and white as he moved through the scrub towards the thicker undergrowth. His heart was loud in his ears and he winced with every noisy foot fall. There wasn't much chance of this working out well, but they had to try, had to have the upper hand. If the beast was clever it would have to decide what was the best course of action and that might give him the time needed. Of course it might just go for him and then back for the others, relying on it's speed.

When he'd gotten into the trees he had rubbed himself down with dirt and leaves hoping to mask his smell, he needed to get around and then move in close, the beast would either then run from the others into him and his gun or it would run to the clearing where it would get shot, whether with a tranq. or a bullet depended on who got the shot first, him or Woods. He had the rifle now, he wasn't going to risk meeting the beast with a dart gun.

Now he could hear the dinosaur, could hear it walking and grunting, had it picked up his scent? He moved diagonally away from it into the thick, green undergrowth, trying to move as quietly as possible. It got darker here, the trees were closer together and the moon struggled to break through. He closed his eyes for a few seconds trying to get them accustomed and then continued to move. He could still hear the beast, but it wasn't coming his way. He didn't think it would try and sneak up on him, it would come fast to take out the threat before turning to face the others. Once it made it's choice to attack it would shed it's caution and try to take them all out in one frenzied assault.

But so far it wasn't attacking, it either hadn't smelt him or was waiting to see what was happening. They still had the advantage that it was scared of the guns, perhaps it was hoping he was leaving and it could make a run for it. It didn't matter, every step he took was pushing his luck, the more frustrated it got with it's situation, the more likely it was to attack. He pressed the button on his radio and whispered 'go' into it.

Chris and Jon got the message and looked at each other.

"Good luck," Chris said.

"And you. If it comes for you just shoot, try to let it get close, but a shot to scare it is just as good."

They shook hands and ran in opposite directions.

Chris ran into the trees, hit by the contrast of white and black, and pulled his pistol. He crept further into the Bush until he was at the edge of where the undergrowth thickened. Slowly he moved to his right, towards where the dinosaur was the last time they checked the GPS.

He could hear it now, trudging seemingly in a tight circle and grunting. Then it stopped; had it smelt them? He heard it make an almost whining noise, it was confused, surrounded, and he almost pitied it. It wasn't it's fault, it was just doing what millions of years of evolution had taught it to. Hunt, eat and survive. It was just another victim of human expansion, same as the sharks that had lived in the oceans off Western Australia for millennia. We went into their territory, we over-fished their food stock and then killed them when they came closer to land to find food. As if it was their fault.

But humans still had to come first and that meant that this beast had to die, it was only a matter of time before it found an urban area and killed however many innocent people. The innocent killing the innocent killing the innocent, why did man never think of consequences, never learn from history? It was greed, of course, greed was man's greatest sin because it was slowly, but surely killing them.

He had gotten too close thinking these things and he pulled up short as he suddenly saw the dinosaur. It was turning in a tight circle, a truly magnificent animal, definitely an Australovenator, two to two and half metres tall at its hip, nearly twice that height if it stood upright and seven metres long. Six by twenty feet, with those large feet he had come acquainted with through its prints and the three clawed hands, each claw a couple of inches long at least. He could see its nostrils flaring as it turned its head this way and that.

∞

This was the most dangerous moment, Jon thought. The way it's turning it's head, it's smelt us and it feels trapped. Had it smelt Turnbull? How far away was he? If not it could run straight at him, or it might just take either him or Chris. Cornering an animal was always dangerous, but they'd left an escape route and he hoped it would use it. He hunkered down into the shadow of a large grass tree and waited.

Over the last twelve hours he had come to believe that they should kill it, bring an end to it all, but hiding here, being able to see the dinosaur he felt more relaxed than he had. It was no longer an unseen threat that could attack at any moment, if it attacked him now he would see it coming, he would have plenty of time to shoot, but it was truly a magnificent beast and not something that one kills wantonly. No. This was a miracle of nature, one that had to be brought back for study, for the World to see. It was irresponsible to do anything else.

He wondered if he could get a shot in now, put it to sleep before anyone else shot it, but it was too risky, it might not fall asleep before attacking one of them. It would only take one slash from those claws to kill a man, one bite from that massive mouth.

It was unbelievable, what he had lived for, and it was just a beautiful and wondrous as he had always thought dinosaurs would be. It swung around and he could see the muscles rippling under the skin, the smooth arc of it's tail. He watched it's gait as it walked away from him, entranced in it's majesty.

∞

It was walking towards him, shit, it was coming. Chris clenched his pistol. What should he do? If he shot now and missed, or missed and hit Woods, then what? Where exactly was Jon? Maybe a shot into the air, but then anything might happen, at best it would flee and they would have lost their chance and have to do this all again.

It had stopped. It was smelling the air, now looking deeper into the trees. It made the whining sound again, it must have just smelt Turnbull. It turned three hundred and sixty degrees before looking toward the clearing and then turning to look straight at the shadows Chris was hiding in. It knew he was there, it could take him now, could cross the distance in a few strides.

He tried to aim his pistol at it without making any big movements, but he found his hands were shaking. It would have to get real close for him to be able to hit it. He lowered the gun and held up the torch.

∞

Turnbull was creeping back towards the dinosaur and he could hear it in the stillness of the night and was tense, ready to sprint if it sounded like the beast was charging one of the others. He had to get in close before they hit the lights and he hoped the dinosaur might take the escape route through it's own will before that.

He was on the edge of the dense Bush and could see the dinosaur turning around. It must have all their scents now, it would have to make a decision soon.

He got as close as he dared and brought the radio to his mouth, pressing the button he whispered: "Three, Two, One," before switching on his torch. The light lit up the dinosaur from three sides and it charged blindly forward, right towards one of the torches.

Turnbull leapt forward, sprinting to intercept with a bullet, but there was the explosive bang of a pistol and the beast roared and turned. running out into the clearing.

∞

Chris stared at the dinosaur staring at him. Where was Turnbull? Should he try and blind the beast with his torch, should he try and shoot it anyway? And then Turnbull came over the radio and on 'one' he hit the button. The dinosaur was lit up and it roared at him, he thought he felt its breath even from there and then the worst thing happened. The dinosaur charged towards him; his brain didn't shut down but rather began to spin, flood with memories and disjointed thoughts of Kylie, his family back in England, friends he hadn't seen in years.

But as his mind fell apart his arm raised and he fired the pistol. The recoil, noise and light slapped him back to his senses to watch the dinosaur bank left, blood spraying out, and run for the clearing.

"Go, go," Turnbull shouted running past him and then he too was running, chasing the fleeing dinosaur, hunting the hunter.

They hit the clearing at the same time as Woods to see the Australovenator striding across it.

"I've got it, I've got it," Woods shouted.

"Shoot it then, Woodsy," Turnbull shouted as Woods dropped to one knee and sighted.

Turnbull wasn't waiting either and also dropped to one knee and began sighting as Woods pulled the trigger.

"You get it?" Chris shouted.

"Yes, no, I think it bounced off," he called back.

"Dammit," cursed Turnbull as he sighted and fired just as the dinosaur went into the trees.

"I could have had it, could have had it dead here, now," Turnbull shouted angrily as Woods jogged over to them.

"We can't kill it," Woods argued back.

"Make up your mind, Jon," Chris snapped.

"Look at it, it's beautiful, it's a miracle of nature."

"It's a miracle we're not dead."

They all turned to the Bush on the far side as the undergrowth shook and the ground rumbled.

"Be ready," Turnbull commanded raising his rifle.

Suddenly the Bush burst open as a fear-crazed herd of wild pigs came rushing towards them.

"What the hell?" Chris decried as Turnbull shot one.

"Keep on your feet," he shouted.

It was no use though, they were fast and the distance was short, the herd rushed through the three men, smashing at them as they went. They were massive pigs, a metre tall and it was only through sheer determination that Chris managed to stay on his feet and not get trampled. He even vaulted one of them as it bore down on him and then they were gone, squealing into the trees and the air seemed terribly silent except for his own heavy breathing. No, not his.

He looked over and then down to see Jon on his knees, his arms around his stomach. He was breathing fast and heavy and let out a pained grunt as he tried to move. Chris quickly knelt down beside him.

"Are you OK?"

"No, tusk. Tusk got me in the stomach," Woods replied through clenched teeth. "Got me bad."

"Bloody hell," Turnbull muttered standing over them.

"Now what do we do?" Chris asked him.

Clouds rolled in as the moon was setting and the clearing became dark.

"Another hour before sunrise," Turnbull said clicking on his torch.

It had gotten very dark very quickly and Chris could barely see Jon in front of him.

"You've got to keep pressure on it," he said.

"I know that," Woods replied sharply and then hissed in pain.

Turnbull went to the camp and found a small first aid kit from his bag.

"I don't know we can do this with only torchlight," Turnbull said. "I fear releasing the pressure too long."

"We can't risk him bleeding out," Chris replied.

Then he got up. Shit. Where was the tablet? He loped over to the camp and shone his torch around until he found it. He fumbled with the button to wake up the screen and nearly dropped it. There. The dinosaur was still close, about five hundred metres away, but it wasn't moving. He'd hit it, but he didn't think a pistol shot would do much damage, more likely just shocked the beast. Had it ever been hurt before, ever felt pain? Would it make the dinosaur scared or angry? Were they now masters of it or a danger that must be eliminated, no matter what?

"Where is it?" Turnbull called.

"About half a K' away, not moving."

"Good."

He knelt down next to Woods.

"Are you keeping pressure on it?" he asked.

"What does it look like?" Woods hissed back.

"I mean, is it working? Are you able to keep enough pressure on it?"

Woods looked down and Turnbull shone the light down to his hands, blood was seeping through his clothes and as he relaxed the pressure a little more welled through.

"No. You're not," Turnbull said. "Bring that light over here, Chris."

Chris stood over them holding both torches to light Woods' stomach and on the count of three Woods let go of his wound and pulled up his shirt as Turnbull rapidly wound a bandage around him, holding a gauze in place.

"It's not good, but it's the best we can do," Turnbull said standing. "Lie back and rest, we'll have to move at first light, get you back to the Ute."

Turnbull and Chris stood looking at the stuff from their camp.

"Weapons, water, the tablet," he let out a long breath through his nose. "I think that's it. If we make it we'll be in town by late afternoon."

"Do you think we'll make it?"

Turnbull looked him in the eye.

"I honestly don't know, mate," he looked over at Woods. "We had this in the SAS; what do you do behind enemy lines with a wounded team mate? You have to get him out, but what if that means everyone dying? Better to lose one and save the rest, but that's your mate lying there."

"We can't leave him here," Chris worried.

"We're not going to, but we need to work out how we're going to get to the Ute. That monster will start tracking us once we move. It must be able to smell the blood. If you hadn't hit it it would have come for us by now."

"Who'd have thought it would be me to shoot it," Chris gave a tired smile and Turnbull barked a laugh.

"Well, there'll be no more of this tranquilizing nonsense, I'll tell you that."
CHAPTER NINETEEN

The clouds had rolled in as the Sun began to rise, giving the dawn a pale, grey, monotonous feel. Both Turnbull and Chris had as much strapped to their bodies as possible, mostly weapons and water. They had eaten a banana and some chocolate, feeding a little to Woods along with water. Chris could see he was in a bad way, worse than in the night, he was slowly bleeding to death.

It was decided that they would leave the bags so that they could carry Woods piggy back and hopefully help keep pressure on the wound as they walked. Turnbull had decided to take Woods for the first half of the journey and would then hand him over. What he didn't say was at that point he would be going back to hunt the beast. He wasn't sure they would make it half way let alone all the way to the Ute without being attacked.

They set off in the weak morning light as the clouds began to drizzle, walking through the sparse trees, grass trees and long wild grass before pushing their way into the thicker Bush. It had only been last night that they were in those trees trying to hunt the Southern Hunter, it seemed a long time ago to Chris and he had never felt tireder. Still they were making their way back, Woods' injury had forced their hand, forced them to leave the Bush and go back to civilisation and that was good. If anyone decided to come back out looking for this thing then he wasn't going with them, this was a job for the police or the army and if they didn't believe them then more deaths would occur until someone else saw the dinosaur. There would be panic and publicity and he would stay away from it all, locked in his house, safe and clean.

He looked down at the tablet that he had wrapped in a clear plastic bag and saw that the dinosaur had shortened the distance between them, but still behind and to their right. He instinctively gripped the handle of the machete in his other hand. He had two pistols and Woods' hunting knife strapped to his belt and he would use whatever he could to get back to that vehicle.

They travelled down the thin 'roo path they had found, Chris looking for the signs of their earlier passing. The rain grew heavier and heavier and still the beast tracked them, keeping a safe distance though sometimes pulling up level with them before dropping back again.

"What if it comes for us?" Chris called back to Turnbull.

"We shoot it," Turnbull replied.

"Then why not stop and let it come?"

"It's wary, but as we move further away, I hope, it will get braver, think we are running away."

"We are running away. What happens if it turns around, flees?"

"Then I turn back and go after it."

Chris stopped and turned around, the rain sluicing off him and cutting visibility, he could hardly see Turnbull through it.

"It's suicide."

"This whole trip had a whiff of suicide, Chris, we're dealing with the apex of apex predators, but we can't let it go, can't let it kill more people."

Chris nodded at him and continued on, now turning off the 'roo path and hacking his way through the thick Bush. This was going to be the hardest part, trying to get Jon through without injuring him more, getting him to the Ute in time.

The undergrowth pushed against them from all sides, ferns and shrubs, young trees and tall gum trees, it was almost a wall of vegetation and as Chris pushed through he tried to spot the places where Turnbull had cut through on their way in. He looked down at the tablet to find that the dinosaur had closed in on them.

"I think it was waiting till the undergrowth got thicker, Turnbull. It's closing in."

"It's smart, taking away the benefit of our guns. How close?"

"Two hundred metres."

"You know the way back?"

"North East."

"OK, take Woods and head for the Ute; give me the computer thing."

"I don't think we should split up, Turnbull, I can't protect myself carrying Woods."

"It can smell us, if it's as smart as it's acting it will sense me as a threat and you as an easy meal. It won't risk attacking you without taking care of me first."

"You can't know that for sure."

"I know that we don't stand much chance in this Bush, we need to give Woods the best chance of getting out. And we have to kill this thing."

"Fine," Chris said.

He took Woods' dead weight on his back and handed over the tablet. Turnbull then slung the rifle over Woods' shoulder and picked up his machete.

"There is more first aid in the Ute, another bandage, some stronger pain killers. The ones he's on will wear off soon, and then carrying him is going to be a problem; don't stop for anything, but keep your radio to hand."

Chris nodded, and then turned and continued through the undergrowth. He suddenly felt naked and alone without the tablet, suddenly not knowing where the Australovenator was and not being able to see more than a centimetre or two in front of him. Ever frond or leaf he moved could uncover the dinosaur waiting to devour them both.

The rain slackened a little and it was at least some respite, something going their way, but he had only got a few metres before it hammered down again and his spirit of hope was sluiced away with it. He couldn't think, he was so tired and Jon was so heavy; it was one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other.

∞

Turnbull jogged along slashing the plants ahead of him, his eyes flickered from ahead of him to the tablet and back. They were converging, him and the dinosaur and he hoped that it had picked up his scent, the testosterone and adrenaline that marked him as a threat. He had left the rifle behind as it was of no use in such thick Bush, his machete and more so his Bowie knife with its eleven inch blade were the tools for this and his pistol if he could get a close shot.

The rain stopped suddenly and he stopped and looked at the tablet; the beast had slowed down, yes, it must have his scent. It was moving warily trying to make a circle so he began to move again, he couldn't let the beast get around him, he couldn't be sure it wouldn't go for the scent of blood over his. He waved his arms in the air and shook the front of his shirt, anything that might put more of his scent in the air.

Now it was moving back again. It was unsure, it had thought it was the hunter again, but now the quarry had turned on it. It was moving away a little and then forward again, now trying to circle around the other way. The rain smashed down again, gushing down off the brim of his Akubra hat and Turnbull picked up the pace hoping that the rain would obscure the sounds of his movement, it had to finish now, had to finish quickly and so he barged through the undergrowth; thick, lush and green all around him, scraping at him as if pleading for him to stop and turn back, he hacked and slashed and sped through the rain.

His eyes flicked to the screen to see the dot was close to him now, close to his left so he zagged right, eyes flicking between where he was going and the tablet. Yes, it was following him so he turned a sharp left and ran at a right angle to where he had been, he was so close the beast could probably see him, but it didn't lunge out instead it moved away, feared it might be encircled and attacked. Perhaps it was unsure of what to do in such a situation, the last time it had been surrounded it had been shot.

The rain slackened and he could hear it moving through the undergrowth, there was the snap of branches as it moved, no longer trying to keep quiet, desperately trying to work out what this man was doing. So he stopped and looked around him; he checked the tablet to see that it was moving away from him. He couldn't chase it anymore, he would wear out before it did; it had to come to him. So he moved slowly, angling to its right, giving it the chance to feel that it could strike at him. He sheathed the machete and pulled his Bowie knife, pushing slowly through the big leaves, controlling his breathing, shaking the rain from his hat, watching the screen. It wasn't moving.

He stopped and watched the screen. It still didn't move, perhaps it was waiting, or perhaps it was a trap, either way he had to go for it; force the hand and end this cat and mouse game one way or the other. He moved slowly, creeping through though he didn't know why, the beast would smell him before he saw it. His eyes flicked down to the screen, it still hadn't moved, what was it doing? Was it waiting for him? Had it thought the same thing? To end it by stopping running, was it letting him come to it in order to see who would prevail? Was it that smart? He could feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest, was it smarter than even he had thought? Was he walking into a trap thinking fool headedly that he was the smartest, the fiercest? Which of them was truly the hunter?

But he couldn't back down now, to do so would show that he was weak, that he was the prey. He had to see this to the end, even his own end.

Still not moved.

Waiting for him and yet he continued to creep forward. Closer now, closer, but he couldn't hear it, the sneaky bastard had completely changed it's tactics. The rain came down heavily again turning the ground to mud and he stopped. He wanted to be able to hear it, he knew nothing of the tablet, didn't know he could zoom in to get an exact fix and so worried that he would stumble into it.

The rain eased a little and he closed his eyes, letting his ears pierce through everything, focussing on those sounds that should not have been heard here for millions of years and then, checking the tablet, he moved on. The leaves sprayed him with water as he pushed them aside and his boots squelched in the mud and in the water that was inside them and then he stopped. He could hear nothing, could see nothing, but according to the tablet he was almost upon it. He stopped and listened.

Nothing.

He slowly pushed aside a large frond and could see that the undergrowth thinned a little here, but that made it even more wrong. He looked down at the tablet and then shook it before looking again. Had the rain gotten into it? It said that it was here, he was standing right on top of the beast, but there was nothing here. He ran his hand down his mouth and took a step back before kneeling. He ran his hand over the mud until he felt it. The GPS tag.

It had fallen out.

He hit the radio.
CHAPTER TWENTY

The radio burst into life just as Chris caught sight of the Ute and his heart sang.

"I've lost it, the tag came out," Turnbull said.

"What?"

"The GPS tag, it fell out or whatever, I don't know where the beast is."

"No," Chris breathed and looked around. "I'm at the Ute, hold on."

He went as fast as he could and opened the Ute, doing his best to lay Woods across the back seat. He took another look around at the trees and then got into the passenger seat before picking up the radio again.

"I'm in the Ute," he said.

"Good. How's Woodsy?"

"In pain."

"The big first aid kit is in the back."

"Could the dinosaur be out there?"

"I don't know. We were stalking each other, I hardly think it knew what the tracker was, but I can't say."

"OK. I have to go and get it. What are you going to do?"

"Try and track it the old fashioned way, you have another of these computer things?"

"I don't know."

"Laptop," Woods groaned from the back seat. "My laptop in the back."

"OK, yes, Jon says."

"I'll keep the tag, get a fix on me and lead me home, not sure where I am now."

"OK. Yes. OK. I've got to get out now then."

"Don't contact me til I contact you. If you hear nothing in the next thirty minutes, drive back. Or go if Woodsy gets worse."

The radio went silent.

Chris looked out the window at the thinning rain. He had to get out, had to get medicine for Jon, had to get the laptop, but he couldn't, his mind fought him. He had finally found some protection, walls between him and the beast and he couldn't go back out there now, he couldn't get this far and then die going back out.

But he had to. Jon would die otherwise.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Nothing happened.

He ran to the back of the truck and started rummaging through the assorted things in there. Laptop bag in a waxed bag. Here, a first aid kit. Heavy. He hoisted it out and ran back to the door, his heart thumping in his chest, his wet fingers slipped twice on the door handle before he got it open and dived inside slamming the door shut.

The rain stopped, but nothing happened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Turnbull opened his shirt and slid the tablet down his back where it sat at the base of his spine before buttoning the shirt and pulling out his pistol. It was about time he did this the old fashioned way, he was amazed that he had relied on technology for so long.

That was the problem with all this new stuff, you were in danger of forgetting how to do things yourself and then when the technology failed you were screwed. You couldn't rely on things that were made to break or had a certain battery life. Most people wouldn't know how to clean their clothes properly by hand if their washing machine broke down.

He looked around, he knew the beast had been here, but how long ago? Not long, he had seen the point moving on the map not that long ago. This little break in the thick undergrowth was barely big enough to have fitted the dinosaur in and it wasn't hard to see which way it had gone. But then that didn't mean anything, it could have circled around behind him by now.

Still, it was all he had so he began pushing his way through, gently to keep track of broken branches, footprints in the mud, just a leaf or flower that seemed disturbed. That was the key in tracking, to spot those little things, those things that seemed to be slightly different from all around it. He had hoped for a trail of blood, but he knew that a pistol shot would not have made much of a wound on a scaled beast of this size.

There was nothing anymore, he wasn't really seeing, he was looking; he was listening to everything all at once, trying to locate the sounds that did not fit.

Here. Here was a branch with no water droplets on it, recently brushed past. Here was a good footprint in the mud. Ahead and to the left something bolted and then stopped.

He followed with no real idea of where he was or which direction he was travelling in; he wasn't even aware of his immediate surroundings, no, he had to project his senses further to sense the beast before it appeared, jaws first through the thick undergrowth. He acknowledged that he was scared, terrified even, that he could see no more than a few centimetres ahead of him and that great beast could smell him, but he did not feel it. He kept it locked up in the darkest place of his heart so as not to run screaming from the horror of this hunt.

Then he heard it, heard it make a dash through the Bush. He tensed for the attack, but it went past him, snapping branches, the sound of a smaller tree breaking. There to the right he could see the Bush ripple as the tree fell. And then all was silent. So it was behind him. Ready to pounce or sneak up on him? He let the pistol hang in his hand as he raised the Bowie knife for that was how a man hunted. Up close and make sure the bastard's dead, see the light die in its eyes.

He stood completely still and closed his eyes. He let the Bush surround him, he breathed in the smells and sounds of it, what the Bush was. He knew it so well, so many years running away from people and into a world run by the rules of nature. No greed, no war, no murder, none of these sins of man for their own gain; just the natural order of things. Animals didn't choose to kill like man did, they were pushed on by the need to eat and procreate, not by the greed for more things, more land, or more money in the bank. They did not need to be famous and adored, they did not send boys out to fight politician's wars, they did not create weapons to kill and maim for no other reason than political agenda.

There was nothing left for him in the world of man, he was sick of it, sick of the horrors that underpinned society and made it run.

And so he went into the Bush.

And yes, he went in to help other humans in whatever was their need, research, that was good; or having to hunt a croc because it was too close to a town, that wasn't so good. But it was the only way he could be a part of society and away from it. Oh, you couldn't really escape society anymore, couldn't avoid it forever, it was so ingrained in them now; from birth. It wasn't really ordinary people's fault, only in that they would not open their eyes to the true horrors of why wars began or where their cheap clothes and machines came from. Perhaps they hid this in the dark places of their hearts.

And so he stood there, but not there, focussed on what was and what should not be and then he found it. The barest movement of the undergrowth, the softest of thuds, the smell that wasn't there before.

And then his senses flared into bright fireworks as the Bush behind him exploded.

He spun around as if in slow motion, the dinosaur's head appearing through the undergrowth inches from him, snout then eyes, and claws. He raised his arm as he spun and just as the beast began to open its mighty jaws, slash with its deadly claws he thrust his Bowie knife up, penetrating under the jaw and straight up into the brain.

He was pushed back with the forward momentum, fell to the floor smashing the tablet at his back. The beast stood over him, its mouth pinned shut. It looked at him, looked left and right and then reached up with one of its mighty claws and felt the hilt of the knife before tipping slowly sideways and crumbling to the floor.

It was over.

∞

The radio burst to life startling Chris from a dazed slumber.

"It's over."

"Say again."

"It's over. I killed it," Turnbull said.

"No," moaned Woods from the back.

"Where are you?" Chris asked.

"Dunno, mate. You got me on that computer of yours?"

"Yes. Yes. Hang on."

He grabbed the laptop and drummed his fingers impatiently as it came slowly out of sleep mode.

"OK, OK, I've got you, come North West about two kilometres," Chris told him.

"On my way."

Chris put the radio down on the seat, he couldn't believe it, it was over. He had never thought it would be, never thought the nightmare would end, could end. Relief and exhaustion washed over him, but he shook his head. He had to be awake, still had the long drive to get out of there, but they could do it, they had hunted a dinosaur and won.

They had survived.

He looked back at Woods. He hoped Turnbull would get there quickly, Jon needed a hospital, needed one fast.

"Hang in there, Jon," he said to no reply.

BOOK THREE – TOWN
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Chris had gotten home and couldn't really believe it. It seemed strange to be standing in his lounge room, strange to be in familiar comforts. They hadn't been away many days, but it had seemed like forever, seemed like that was and always had been his life and now his normal life seemed alien to him. He touched their things, his favourite chair, the books in the bookcase, mentally promising to read more again. He looked at the TV and ran a hand over the dining table. Everything was clean, comfortable, soft or shiny.

They had gotten Woods to the local hospital and he had been rushed to surgery and then Turnbull had dropped him off home and gone back to the Federal Hotel. The first thing he had done was to ring Kylie.

"Chris?"

"I'm home."

"You're OK?"

"I am, just tired," and she had laughed and then burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just so glad you're alright, I thought I might never see you again, I thought you might get hurt."

"I'm OK," he reassured her. "I'm home now."

"I can come home today," she said through her tears.

"No. I need sleep, lots of sleep, come home tomorrow."

"OK. OK, if that's what you want."

"It's not what I want, but it's what I need at the moment."

They had told each other they loved them and had hung up. He had gone to the pantry and grabbed a bottle of whisky and sat in his armchair and drank. He had survived, he was unhurt, but he wasn't alright, he felt adrift, lost at sea in his own house.

He closed his eyes and remembered trekking through the Bush with Jon on his back, the incessant rain pounding him and the feeling of despair. Despair for the man on his back, despair that they were so close and might not make it; the dinosaur attacking from the thick Bush at any time. The disbelief that they could actually make it, that the Ute would really be there, the ache and pain in his legs as he trudged through the thickening mud, the cuts on his face from the undergrowth he pushed through, barely trying to cut it aside.

And the hope. That was the worst thing, the hope that it might all be over, but without an end in sight. Seeing the Ute and knowing that they could make it, but they could be attacked right there and he could die with the Ute in his eyes.

He snapped his eyes open, shivered and drank from his glass before refilling it. It was over, he was home and he was safe. His mind was just adjusting to it; the adrenaline that had been his constant companion had finally began to ooze from his system after they had gotten Jon to the hospital. He hoped he would make it, hoped he would recover fully, but he couldn't think of that, it only set the fear off again. He had prayed they would make it out and they had, so he had to have hope that Jon would be alright. They would all be alright, they would go back to their normal lives and the fears and memories would fade as life continued along. Life would not stop for him to mope, it would not ease up on him nor give him a break.

He got up slowly and went into the en-suite and had a hot shower before falling into bed. He briefly thought he wouldn't be able to sleep and then he was.

∞

He was back in the Bush, surrounded by trees in the dim, overcast light. In front of him stood the Australovenator, it brought it's head down level with his.

"Is this what you do when exciting things come along? Hunt them down and kill them?" it asked him.

"You're dangerous."

"All exciting things are dangerous. All change, all hopes and dreams."

"You were eating people."

"Yes, well people's goals consume them. Those who won't face a little danger become office workers, accountants."

"You're not my dream nor my goal," Chris argued.

"Oh no? Says the man who loved dinosaurs since he was a child, who grew up to become a Palaeontologist. Was it not your dream to meet a real dinosaur?"

"It was," Chris said looking at the muddy floor.

"And when it happened you killed it. Too scared to follow through with your dreams; you want to do something in life, but any opportunities are quashed through fear. Fear of the unknown."

"I have a good life," Chris protested.

"Do you?" it asked and then those massive jaws were closing around his head and torso.

∞

He slept through the evening, into the night and through the next morning. He awoke to sounds in the house and tensed before recognising where he was. He felt the thick duvet and its softness felt strange to his palms.

"Kyls?" he called and heard footsteps.

She came into the room and smiled at him, grinned at him before skipping over and lying down next to him. She kissed his face and he turned his head to kiss her.

"Oh, baby, I'm so glad. You're here, you're OK."

"I'll be right, just need some rest; relax for a few days."

"Of course," she smiled and got up. "Shall I make you some coffee?"

"That'd be great," he smiled back.

She walked out of the room and he got up slowly, wincing at cuts, bruises and sore muscles. He spent a long time in the shower trying to reinvigorate his body before dressing in clean clothes and heading to the kitchen where a mug of coffee awaited him on the table. Kylie sat opposite it and so he took a seat.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"Yeah. Turnbull got it in the end."

"And Jon?"

Chris sighed and shook his head.

"What? What is it? Did he..." she trailed off.

"No. He's in hospital though."

"What happened?"

"We hit it with a tracking dart, tracked it using GPS until we got to a small clearing. The plan was to encircle it, flush it out into the open to shoot it.

"We missed, it got into the trees on the far side and scared a herd of pigs out. They stampeded us and one of them gored Jon pretty badly. We had to carry him out."

"Will he be OK?"

"I don't know," Chris shrugged. "They rushed him straight into surgery. I should probably go and find out today."

"I'll drive you," she said. "And Turnbull?"

"Turnbull is Turnbull. In the end with all the guns and technology he killed it with his knife, under the jaw and into the brain."

"I can't believe it," she gasped.

"No," he shook his head. "I can't believe any of it."

She got up and walked behind him before leaning down and hugging him around the shoulders.

"I'm just glad you got home safely."

He smiled.

"Me too."

∞

They arrived at the hospital to find Turnbull in the reception area.

"How is he?" Chris asked shaking hands.

"They say he's stable, but we can't see him."

"But he'll recover?" Kylie asked.

"They think so," Turnbull raised his hands in a shrug gesture. "They say that the next twenty-four hours are crucial. He lost a lot of blood."

"Man," Chris sighed.

"Hey, he wouldn't be alive at all if it wasn't for you," Turnbull said.

"No. It was you. You knew what to do."

"What are you going to do now?" Kylie asked him.

"I have to go back out there, get our stuff," Turnbull replied.

"I'll come with you," Chris offered.

"No. You're home now, mate, home with your wife, keep it that way. Rest."

"You should be resting too," Kylie said gently and Turnbull laughed.

"I'll rest, don't you worry, Miss, but that stuff can't stay out there."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?"

"You've done enough, Chris. Saved all these people, remember that."

Chris nodded, but didn't feel it. Turnbull looked at his watch.

"Why don't we get a drink at the hotel," Turnbull suggested and Chris smiled.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Come on then, we'll come back here tomorrow."

∞

"I haven't thanked you," Kylie said sitting in the bar while the rain lashed down outside.

"What for?" Turnbull asked.

"For bringing my husband back safely."

Turnbull laughed.

"He did a lot of that himself, Miss, he was brave and kept it together."

"Still."

"You did," Chris said. "You kept us together."

"That's just the training," Turnbull said.

"He was in the SAS," Chris told her.

"Oh, I guess that explains a lot," she smiled.

"Maybe so," he replied taking a drink of his pint.

"Chris says that in the end you hunted it and killed it with a knife."

"Well, that's true, Miss, yes," Turnbull replied.

"I can't even imagine doing something like that," she shook her head.

"It's the problem modern generations have to face," Turnbull said. "We have so much technology now, we forget how to do things."

Kylie laughed.

"I don't think anyone but you is going to have to hunt a dinosaur."

"No. But you know I'm not saying technology is bad, a lot of it is helping us live, but a lot is just comfort. Laziness."

"Such as?" Chris asked mid sip.

"Back in the day a family had one car, were happy to have that. But it meant they had to talk, to work things out, who had the car for what, who could be picked up or dropped off when. People survived, but it could be annoying and then when people earned more money and cars became cheaper they solved all those conflicts by buying a second car."

"That's not a bad thing, surely?" Kylie asked.

"It makes life easier, yes, but it takes away the conversations, the team work. It doesn't solve the problem by working through it, it bypasses the problem. You don't grow through the purchase of a second car," Turnbull said.

"You're saying that we are losing something of ourselves by not having to struggle?" Chris asked, but Turnbull merely shrugged.

"I'm just an old man looking in on this new world."

"But you're right," Kylie said. "A couple of weeks or months ago, I can't remember, I was vacuuming and I wondered how I would get the carpets clean if the vacuum broke."

"You'd buy a new one," Turnbull replied.

"Yes. Yes, I would, but like you say that's a quick fix, circumnavigating the problem. I mean if I couldn't get one for what other reason. Look, I'm a woman and I have a husband and when we got married I swore to look after him, but I couldn't really without the technology I have."

Chris looked at her with a deep love; he'd always known that she was looking after him, he couldn't remember how he had survived without her, but he had never appreciated how she had taken on a life's work to look after him. Had he done the same? Had he committed his life to the same cause or had he been wishing his life away for something better. Not better than her, but some idealised world while she was working hard day to day to get them by?

He took her hand under the table and squeezed it, to which he received a smile from her.

"So what will you do next?" Chris asked him.

"As I said, go and collect our stuff and then I might hang around for a few days, see how Woodsy is doing before heading back up North."

"It'll be weird when you go, sort of final," Chris said.

Turnbull laughed.

"I think I want some finality on this, gotta keep moving on, mate, not dwelling on the past."

"Well before I do, there's one thing I want to know. Why did you come? I mean everyone else took a lot of convincing and you agreed on the spot."

"I told you, World is strange."

"Yeah, but not strange enough to come all this way without some kind of evidence," Chris pushed.

Turnbull took a drink and wiped his mouth.

"The Burrunjor," he said.

"Seriously?"

"What? After what you've just been through you doubt the existence of such thing?"

"No. No, I guess I can't," Chris admitted.

"There's enough evidence that it exists, more than your dinosaur down here. Some of it is documented, but a lot of more recent sightings stay within the community. I was planning a trip to find it or find out what exactly is eating cattle and crocs and the like. When you rang it sounded like practice."

Chris laughed.

"Everything I've been through, all the terror and pain and for you it was just a practice run? You're something else, Turnbull, something else."

"Sorry. Burrunjor?" Kylie asked.

"A T-Rex like animal that supposedly lives up in the Bush of Arnhem Land," Chris explained.

"OK. I suppose anything is possible now," she replied.

"Yes," Chris smiled. "Anything is possible now."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jon was running through the trees, something big was following him and he was being lashed by heavy rain and wind; the Bush around him whipped in a frenzy and branches slapped his face and arms. He wanted to stop, he needed to stop, to catch his breath, but the dinosaur was chasing him and he knew it would never stop. Where was the Ute? Where were the others? What others? They had left him, had gone their own way because he was hurt and weak, a hindrance. What if they had taken the Ute and gone home without him? Would they? Yes. He was sure that was what had happened, left him to escape on his own, but he couldn't escape, it didn't matter how far you ran, nor how fast, you could never escape. So what then? Why not give up? This wasn't life, this wasn't what he had thought his life would be when he came here. He slowed and could hear the beast thumping up behind him. He stopped. So be it. The beast stopped behind him. Slowly he turned around to face it.

Only to find it was not an Australovenator, but his ex-girlfriend, Faith.

She was naked and her hair was plastered to her head in the rain, he could see the beads of water clinging to her breasts. He was confused; why was she chasing him? She walked up to him, smiling, and then her mouth opened, distended, full of sharp teeth and then she lunged at him.

He awoke with a start.

Where was he?

In a room.

It was raining outside, he could hear it.

Was he home? No.

He tried to get up, but couldn't raise himself more than an inch or two before falling back down. He felt his stomach.

Bandages.

Right. He was in a hospital, he remembered now; remembered the pigs, the deafening noise of their feet and squeals. Getting knocked around before a sharp tearing pain in his stomach, it flew threw his head in a tumult that made his stomach tense which in turn made him want to vomit.

He let out a long breath.

The dinosaur.

Had they got it? Was it dead or tranquilised? Dead. He didn't have a memory, but knew that he had heard Turnbull say it. He had killed it with a knife, he thought.

It was over then.

"You're awake," a female voice said and he turned his head to see a nurse.

She came over to him and helped him drink some water before asking how he felt.

"Tired," he croaked. "How long?"

"Only a few days. I'll get the doctor, he'll be pleased to see you've awoken so soon. You're going to be OK, Dr. Woods," she smiled down at him.

∞

He must have fallen asleep, he remembered a doctor coming at some point and being pleased, but he couldn't remember what he had said. He felt better now as he looked up at Chris and Turnbull.

"How're you feeling?" Chris asked.

"I've been better," he tried to smile.

"You took a bad fall," Turnbull said.

"And you two got me out."

They didn't reply to that.

"Come on, I need to thank you, you saved my life."

"You would have done the same," Chris said.

"But I didn't. You did it for me."

"What's important is that you're OK. The doctor says you'll make a full recovery, no long term damage."

"You were lucky," Turnbull said.

"We all were, weren't we?"

"We were," Chris agreed.

"So it's dead."

"Yes."

"No choice, Woodsy," Turnbull said.

"It's OK," he replied and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again they were gone and the light from the window had shifted though it was still raining. Would it ever stop? It rained in his dreams, it rained outside his window and he felt very alone.

∞

The morning rose with clear skies and rain being forecast for that night. Chris decided to walk into town to see Len Norton, it was about time he went and told him of their success.

It felt good to be out of the house, despite the need to rest and let his cuts and bruises heal; it felt good to be normal again, doing what he had always done. He felt that the horrors of his time in the Bush were fading away and that the jarring juxtaposition of those two lives was mending itself.

But he couldn't forget, he had promised himself to live better, to appreciate what he had instead of dreaming for something else. It was noble to want to do something to make the World a better place, but it wasn't the calling for everyone.

And anyway he was, wasn't he?

He was a teacher. Through him, and those like him, the next generation was being formed and hopefully they would learn from others past mistakes, they would make the World a better place, a safer place. A fairer place. A place where dinosaurs didn't hide in the shadows ready to attack, to rape or to steal. Where dinosaurs didn't hoard money in bank accounts while others starved, where they didn't exploit others to enrich themselves.

He stopped at Crank 'n' Cycles and walked in to see Erik.

"Well, well, young man, long time," Erik smiled.

"Yeah. I've been out of town."

"School holidays. It's OK for some," Erik grinned. "Somewhere nice?"

"It was interesting," Chris said. "Camping."

"Ahh. Loads of good camping spots in this area."

"Yeah, shame I didn't go to one of them," Chris smiled and Erik laughed. "How've you been?"

"Good. Busy. We've got a bike ride on Monday finishing in town. An on/off-road mix, professionals."

"On a Monday?"

"Yeah, three day event starting down at Margaret River."

"Now there's a beautiful part of the World."

"Sure is, we took our last holidays down there," Erik said.

"Well, good luck with the ride."

"We'll be having a sausage sizzle and refreshments here at the end; come on down and join us."

"I might do that, first day of school though, I'll probably be asleep by four."

Erik laughed.

"Rather you than me, I'll stick to bikes."

With that Chris left feeling even happier, he had a good life here, good friends, a good house and a loving wife. He had a good job too, stable and enjoyable despite being hard work.

∞

"Well, well, the hunter returns. And in one piece, I see," Norton said.

"Same can't be said for Dr. Woods," Chris said.

"What happened?"

"He's in hospital, but he'll recover."

"So that's good. And of your hunt?"

"We got it. A dinosaur, Len. Real as anything."

Len Norton rubbed his chin.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I saw it as clear as day."

"Well, I'll be damned, who would have thought? Where is it now?"

"Deep in the Bush. No one will find it, and if someone does stumble over it, who'll believe them?"

"Who will believe you?"

Chris narrowed his eyes.

"That wouldn't be a threat, would it? I've made no suggestion that I ever planned to go public on this. I just wanted to stop the threat."

"Good. That's good then," Norton leaned back in his chair. "Well done, Chris, you've saved lives though no one will ever know it. People will sleep safe in their beds because of you."

∞

"Chris," Sarah said into the phone.

"Back again."

"And?"

"And it was all true and it's all over."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"And are you OK?"

"A little battered and bruised, but nothing serious."

"The others?"

"Jon's in hospital. He got gored by a wild pig."

"Is he going to be OK?"

"Yeah, the docs say he'll be fine."

"Well, I've just got off duty, maybe I'll go and see him."

"I think he'd like that."

"Chris?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you're OK."

"So am I, Sarah, so am I."

∞

As he walked home a Ute drove past and then hit the brakes and pulled up to the curb. As Chris reached it the window lowered.

"Chris, where you been?"

"Hey, Big Sam. How's life?"

"Busy, man, busy as."

"Work has a tendency to be that way," Chris smiled. "Still up at the new mine site?"

"Yeah, it's been a nightmare, three guys quit. Just walked off the job. Or so I'm told, so I got called back up there to do some extra stuff. Not really what I'm supposed to be doing, but I'm getting paid extra for it. So where you been?"

"School holidays, remember? Been away."

"You teachers have it easy," Sam scowled and Chris laughed.

"You come and take a lesson one day and see how easy it is. At least welds don't talk back or get moody."

Sam laughed.

"I think I'll leave that to you. You want a lift?"

"Nah, I'm enjoying the sun, doesn't sound like we'll get much of it for the next week or so."

"OK, man, I better go. See you Sunday?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Cool. Take it easy," Sam said and pulled away.

Yep, life was good, Chris thought and smiled up at the Sun.

∞

"Hi there," she said as she entered.

She was still in her police uniform and he couldn't help thinking she looked hot in it.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course. I've been bored out of my brain in here."

"Hasn't anyone come to visit you?" Sarah asked.

"Turnbull came early this morning, but he's hardly a barrel of laughs."

"Turnbull?"

"A crocodile hunter from up North that Chris found. Miserable old sod. Think he enjoyed seeing me in this bed, proves to him that his way of doing things is better than mine."

"Surely not."

Woods started to laugh, but stopped as the pain ricocheted through his abdomen.

"No. Maybe I want to hate him."

"Why?"

"Because maybe he's right. Maybe because he does what I wanted to do."

"And how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better. Docs said it missed all major organs. I'll be sore for a little bit and they want me to stay here rather than go back to the Hotel."

"How did this happen?"

"Stupid really. There we are hunting a dinosaur and I get stuck by a pig."

"So it really was a dinosaur?"

"As real as real can be."

"I can't believe it."

"Neither can I. Waking up here, it all seems so disjointed, as if it had all been a dream. But it can't be a dream if I have nightmares about it, can it?"

She sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.

"You're safe now, Jon. Safe here," she said and he smiled up at her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

It was taking Turnbull longer than he hoped to retrieve all of their gear. The recent rain had brought new growth to the Bush and it had filled in where they had hacked through, pushing into the newly made space in it's never ending quest for sunlight and rain. But he had to admit it wasn't just that, he was old and his body ached from the exertion of the last days. Maybe he should have left it one more day, or got Chris to help.

He'd parked the Ute where they had not so many days past and set out along the 'roo track to the clearing. He knew where he was going, he had an innate sense for space and now he had been once he could find his way back as if there was a GPS tracker in his head.

He felt at peace being out there now that they weren't hunting the beast, he loved being in the Bush, especially on his own. He felt cut off from the rest of the world and from his own life and past.

He'd spent his life on the move and now in his later years he felt settled when he was out in the Bush, rested. It was strange to walk this path again so soon and yet in such a completely different frame of mind, the World had turned and life had moved on. What they had done out here was already in the past, but the present wasn't a place he wanted to be.

Life had passed him by, spending so many years in the military. He had been in hellholes fighting while the World had changed around him, technology had slipped into everyday life without too many questioning it, some not even noticing. He thought it was strange, he had heard about 3D printers and couldn't wrap his head around it, but they still didn't have the flying cars people had touted when he was young. It seemed that in the real world changing technology is not that which is in the collected consciousness, but merely appears out of nowhere. As far as the general populace was aware, there were no mobile phones and then they were everywhere and now people could not live without them.

He sighed to himself as he pushed through the thick undergrowth towards the clearing. What would people think if they knew there had been a dinosaur here in the Bush? Well they would never believe it, would they? Science seemed to have lessened the imagination, split things into two camps, either scientific or unscientific and anything in the latter group was classed as stupid. Only idiots or weirdos believed in things such as living dinosaurs because it was unscientific.

Not that he had a problem with science, no it was a wonderful thing, he just didn't like the way it had shaped the modern world's outlook. But again perhaps it was more that the worldview had changed while he was away and he had never made the transition. Maybe he was bitter about it, about being left in the past. Maybe he resented Woodsy for being a part of it, growing and changing with it while he was stuck doing things the way he always had.

He shook his head, why was he thinking of such things? What did they matter to him? He used his machete to cut away some broad leaves, he wasn't part of this modern world, how it was shaped was for younger minds than he to decide, people like Woodsy and Chris. He would grow old and infirm seeing world changing technologies being developed and knowing that he had not the time nor energy to use them. It was an amazing time to be young, to see these leaps in technology and medicine, to have a lifetime to use them, be blessed by them.

He shook his head and trudged on. Maybe he had been too hard on Woodsy. Maybe he was more angry at himself than the young man.

∞

It was on his last visit to the clearing, as the evening was descending, that he felt something wrong. He stood with the gear in his hands and scanned the tree line from whence the pigs had come. What had he felt? Just a twinge, as if something in his peripheral vision was different, but he could not see it. As if his subconscious knew, but would not relate it to his conscious mind. He looked all around him, but could find nothing to explain his sudden unease. But it was these feelings that could save your life in combat, you couldn't toss them aside, though you couldn't rely on them either.

He took one last look at the trees and then turned and headed back the way he had come. Still the feeling didn't leave him, a little like he was being watched, but there was nothing out here other than 'roos. Perhaps that was it, it was time for the 'roos to come out and feed and he had felt that difference in the Bush, that coming alive of sentient beings. They would watch him, wonder whether he was a threat and deciding that he wasn't would go back to their lives.

It was hard going through the undergrowth with the gear and, this being his third trip he was tiring. He decided that he would sleep out here tonight, a little camp by the Ute, not just because of his tiredness, but because he wanted to find it again. Wanted to see the dinosaur one more time before he went back up North and hell, he had brought his camera to take photos for Woodsy. He felt bad that he had been injured, but more so that he had missed those last moments, missed his chance to capture or study the beast. It wouldn't be much more than tattered flesh and bones by the time he got out of hospital. Even if he could find the spot without Turnbull.

But it was too late to go there now, he had to admit to his age as the last week had taken more out of him than he would have thought. He was tired deep down into his bones and needed good rest and food. He thought of the food at the Feddy, big portions of good food, steak and ribs served with hot chips and salad, a real man's meal. But he couldn't think of such things here and now, his belly would not thank him when it came time for his meagre Bush meal.

He stopped. What was it? He had heard something. Where? It was gone and he couldn't tell; lost in his thoughts he couldn't tell if he had heard anything at all. And then all around him the Kookaburras launched into their laughing song in the trees and he moved on again. He was still tense and jumpy from the hunt they had been through, he was perhaps getting too old to keep doing this, but then what else would he do? He was already technically retired and hadn't slowed down, could he retire from his post-retirement job? Life?

Perhaps he could move down here? He liked Chris and Kylie, could they be friends? There was a bowls club in town, he could take it up and meet more people. It was a small town where people knew each other, it was quiet and seemed nice. Certainly everyone he had met had been friendly and there seemed to be a strong sense of community here; people were proud of their town.

He reached the Ute and loaded the stuff in the back and started to make camp. He got a little fire going and started to cook as the Sun dropped below the treetops. After he had eaten he opened a bottle of whisky and poured some into his tin cup. He felt he was at a crossroads, that leaving his life up North had given him perspective. Out of his daily routine and comfort zone he was given new perspective. Was he really happy up there? Deliberately keeping himself alone, away from civilisation as much as he could be. Or was it folly and he would forget about it once he was home again, back into the old routine? And anyway, he couldn't think about it yet, he still had one hunt left in him, one last hunt.

He poured himself another cup of whisky.

∞

He jolted awake. Confused as to where he was and still a little drunk from the whisky. He fought with the swag until his mind came into focus and he opened it. The fire was out and it was raining steadily. He felt in his swag for his torch and switched it on. What had awoken him? He switched off the torch, plunging the Bush into darkness, and listened. Yes. There was something moving out there, pushing through the undergrowth. He tried to make out what it was, but the rain and whisky confused his senses. It could be a pig or a kangaroo, he couldn't think of anything else. Well except the dinosaur, but he had killed it.

Hadn't he?

Yes. Yes, he had.

He thought of what Woodsy had said about there being more, but he hadn't thought there would be, not around here anyway. Certainly they would have seen them if that was the case. They would have attacked them as a pack if there was a pack out there, wouldn't they? He didn't know anything about dinosaurs, but Woodsy had never seemed concerned that they would meet more than one.

He listened and heard nothing. Whatever it was it had left. He pulled a hand down his face, he was tired and a little drunk and not thinking rationally. Letting the normal, natural sounds of the Bush scare him, make him think things that could not be. Again he wondered if it was time to leave the Bush behind.

He got back into the swag and fell asleep.

In his dream he was back in the clearing, but it was not the Australovenator pacing along the tree line, but the T-Rex like Burrunjor. He finally had it, he knew (in the dream) that he had been hunting it through the Bush for a long time. Days, weeks, months, and now he had it. He raised his rifle, but when he looked through the scope the beast disappeared. He lowered it and there was the beast, but when he raised the long range scope to his eye again it was gone. He lowered the gun and pulled off the scope before sighting along the barrel, but he couldn't pull the trigger, he didn't have the strength and in the dream he knew it was because he was too old, too weak to depress the trigger. He should have done this years ago when he was younger, after all the struggles the chance had passed him by and he watched helplessly as the great beast disappeared into the trees. So much he should have done when he was young, but it was too late now.

∞

He awoke the next morning and brewed strong tea to sweep away the cobwebs before going through a range of stretches. He had a vague memory of waking up in the middle of the night, but tiredness and whisky had done the job of wiping it from his memory. It didn't matter, he would go today and photograph the body and then head back into town for a good meal, a hot shower and then tomorrow or the next day start the long drive back home.

∞

The rain had run its course and the sky was clear of clouds as he pushed his way through the Bush to the site of his last meeting with the dinosaur. The air was close with humidity as the undergrowth dried and it was harder going than he had thought and once again he thought of the comforts of the hotel. Maybe he would have to spend an extra day resting before driving back.

But eventually he reached the small clearing made by their last tangle and there was the mighty beast. It was starting to decay and other things had had a nibble of it, he had to pull out a bandana and tie it over his mouth and nose to block out the smell and then he felt the rough skin. It was a magnificent beast, just as Woodsy had said and he felt a little sorry that he had had to kill it. He hacked away at the undergrowth around it until he could see most of the body before taking out his camera and snapping photos from as many different angles as he could as well as close ups of the head, the mouth, and the claws.

But something bothered him. He stood back and looked at the beast, trying to place what was niggling him. It had fallen on its left side, that was important, but he couldn't think why. Something he had seen, something about its left side?

No.

It's right side.

He remembered back to being in the Bush, surrounding the dinosaur. They had hit their torches, bathing it in bright light and the beast had roared in confusion and then it had charged Chris and he had shot it.

Yes.

As he had run forward he had seen the beast turning away towards the clearing and he had seen the gout of blood as it had turned.

Chris had shot it in its right flank.

He went quickly back to the body and searched up and down it.

It couldn't be.

It must be him. Calm down. Look carefully, old man.

He scanned the whole of the body, running his fingers over the scaly skin, but there was nothing. He scanned it again.

There was no bullet wound.

Suddenly last night came back to him, being awoken by the sound of something in the Bush.

He'd killed a different dinosaur.

There was more than one.

He ran back through the undergrowth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Kylie had gone to a friends for the night. It was a girl's night of teachers before going back to work and she was staying over so that she could stay up late and have some drinks. It was a God send for Chris who sat in his office with his bottle of whisky. In front of him his laptop glowed with a picture, an artist's rendition, of an Australovenator. He stared at it as he sipped from his glass.

How could it be true? What was he going to do? He had survived the ultimate terror and now he was being asked to face it again. His mind was confusing itself, admitting the facts whilst trying to disown them. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He'd lived and learnt, he had learned an important lesson and was ready to focus on what he had here with Kyls, he couldn't be uprooted again. What else did the Lord want him to learn?

He thought back to the day.

Early in the morning he had had a distressed phone call from Sarah.

"You said you had killed it," she said.

"What?"

"You said you killed it."

"We did, Sarah. What's wrong?"

"More cattle have been mutilated and taken from the Dennis Farm. He's mad pissed that we've done nothing about it."

"That can't be, Sarah."

"It is. And it's not the only one, sheep from the Healy's Farm have gone missing, blood staining the grass out there."

"Then we were wrong," Chris said. "It wasn't the dinosaur."

"What else could be doing this?" she asked exasperated. "What else mangles cows, Chris?"

"I don't know."

"You said you had killed it."

"We did, Sarah, we did."

"No. You didn't. This is all bullshit, Chris. I thought I could trust you, I thought you were a friend," he could hear the tears in her voice.

"I don't know what to tell you, Sarah, I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I," she said and hung up.

∞

He'd sat there in his office stunned, surrounded by school work, prep for the new term, but that all seemed inconsequential now. How could this be? They had killed it. Norton had blamed people, maybe it always had been. Poor people stealing the meat they couldn't afford. He ran his hands through his hair, it just didn't gel.

And then later Turnbull had rang and summoned him to the Feddy Hotel.

∞

"No gunshot wound, Chris," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"You shot it on its right flank."

"I don't know where I shot it, Turnbull, I fired blind."

"It sprayed blood at you when it turned, I saw it. The muscles contracted and pushed the blood out in a great arc. It was turning left so you must have shot it in the right side."

"OK. But so?"

"I said so before. There's no bullet wound on the carcass," Turnbull said.

"You just didn't find it, maybe it wasn't visible, it was a massive beast, Turnbull."

"I looked, Chris. I looked close, mate."

"What are you trying to say?" fear rose in his chest.

"That I didn't kill the same dinosaur that you shot."

"That's impossible. You found the GPS there."

"I did. I don't know, perhaps it found a friend who saw that it was wounded, saw the GPS and knocked it out before coming for me to protect the other?"

"This is wild speculation," Chris said taking a long pull of his drink.

"You think I don't know that?" Turnbull said seriously.

Chris took another long pull of his pint and then sighed and told Turnbull of his conversation with Sarah.

"We need to go and see Jon," he said in finishing.

∞

He used the toilet and staggered back to his seat in front of the laptop from which the vicious looking Australovenator stared at him; it was a pretty good representation, but it couldn't capture the terror of the real thing, the ultimate killing machine. Turnbull had said it, that if they survived it would be through luck and he didn't know that their luck could last. He scrolled through some of the pictures before taking another gulp of his whisky. It felt good as it burned down his throat, distancing him from his thoughts and feelings. From his fear and sadness.

They'd gone to see Jon and laid it out to him.

"Well, there was always the case that there had to be more than one, I was prepared for it."

"Prepared? But you didn't say anything," Chris accused.

"No. There wasn't any point, I thought it would be obvious if there was and I didn't want anyone getting the idea of hunting them if they weren't a problem."

"Well there was and it wasn't obvious," Chris said.

"And it didn't change anything," Turnbull chided.

"I'm sorry," Chris said to his shoes.

"What's important now is to try and work out how many more there might be. What happened out there?"

"We were merely seeing a different dinosaur each time," Turnbull said.

"No. I don't think so," Woods said and laid back on his pillow, eyes shut.

They stood and watched him, waiting.

"So?" Chris asked.

"This is just a hypothesis, OK? We can't know for sure, but I think that it was as we thought, there was one dinosaur that had moved away from the others. When we began hunting it we pushed it back towards the others. The other side of the clearing.

"I've wondered since why the pigs came rushing out after the dinosaur rushed into the trees. It's not inconceivable that they ran past it rather than be chased by it, but perhaps it was another dinosaur coming towards them that actually panicked them.

"The new dinosaur followed the other, catching up with it and removed the GPS. Perhaps our dinosaur was unaware of it, or couldn't get it out with those big claws and the other helped. Perhaps it wounded it whilst removing the tracker and our dinosaur headed back to the clearing while the new dino hunted Turnbull. Or maybe Turnbull was just between it and home.

"Anyway, we know what happened next, but then after a couple of days our dinosaur needs to feed and goes back to the farm, taking yet another dinosaur with it, showing it the food source."

"So you're saying there are three?" Chris asked.

"A mating pair and a youth," Turnbull said.

"It makes sense," Woods said.

"So there's two out there," Chris said.

"At least two," Turnbull corrected.

"Again, I think if our dinosaur had shown a number of others the food source, we would know about it, the whole herd would have been eaten."

"But that doesn't mean there aren't more out there," Chris argued.

"No, but it means that we only have two to contend with. That's the real mission. These dinosaurs have lived out there without ever bothering humans, we just need to stop the ones that have come in too close," Woods said.

"Agreed," said Turnbull. "It would be foolish to try and launch a hunt for something we don't need to. We got lucky last time with only Woodsy here getting a little knocked around."

"Gee, thanks," Woods said.

"So what do we do?" Chris asked.

"We stake out the farm," Turnbull said.

∞

They had left in silence, silence in the car.

"No. I can't do it," Chris said once again at the Federal Hotel.

"We have to," Turnbull replied.

"I can't, Turnbull."

"Why not?"

"For one I have school on Monday, I can't ignore my job."

"Get time off."

"And secondly, I can't do it to Kyls. She spent a week not knowing how I was, whether I was injured or whether she'd ever see me again. I can't put her through that again, I can't return home safe and then throw myself back into the lion's den," he took a long drink.

"No. OK. I understand that," Turnbull replied.

"Thank you."

"Just tomorrow."

"What?"

"Just one night, tell your wife I'm taking you out to show you some Bush survival, or to camp out before I leave. Just one day, one night of watching, trying to find a way to catch them."

∞

And so Chris sat alone with whisky and fear in his stomach and looked at a picture of the beast that he thought was in his past. Just one more day of it, he knew he had to, if he didn't any new deaths would be on his head, but he didn't want to, he wanted it to be someone else's problem. Drag the police, Sarah, out to see the body and get them to deal with it. Would they? Would they even go with them to the carcass? Sarah might, but that was also dangerous, going back into the beast's lair. Just one day.

One night.

And then he would go back to being just an ordinary teacher. He'd done his best, hadn't shied away from his duty, but it wasn't his fight anymore. He had a life to live. He cursed Turnbull for bringing him back into it, but it wasn't Turnbull that had brought him into this, it was he that had brought the others in. It was the dinosaur that had brought all of them together into it's lair, into it's madness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Why?" Kylie asked lying in bed.

"I don't know," Chris said getting dressed. "He says I should know more about the Bush, living where we do, but I think he's just lonely, trying to put off going back up North."

"OK," she replied, but seemed downcast.

"It's OK, Kyls, there's nothing out there that can hurt me anymore," he said and felt the lie burning his throat. "So you had a good time last night?"

"Yeah, though I'm not sure the lack of sleep and hangover are worth it," she smiled.

"We're getting old," he smiled back.

"Hey, not yet."

"Anyway, you get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"OK, have fun, alright?"

"I'll do my best," he said and left the room as she sank down into the covers.

∞

Jon Woods was doing his best to walk around the room despite the nurse's protests. He couldn't bear to think that right now Turnbull and Chris were out there again, on with the hunt while he was stuck in hospital. Plus he feared that they would kill the dinosaurs, end it all rather than wait and plan; realise that this was the perfect opportunity. They could tranquilize one as it came to feed, right next to an open field where they could have a flatbed to haul it away. If they waited they could alert people, the zoo perhaps, get things ready.

In hindsight that was what they should have done in the first place, played the waiting game and got it, but he had got caught up in the chase. Once they knew that the dinosaur was around he hadn't thought about a long game, he wanted to go and get it, he'd got lost in the excitement. And now that they were playing that long game he wasn't there to lead it. The best he could hope for was that nothing happened today, if they'd feasted recently they might not come back for days and by then he was determined to be fit enough to be discharged.

∞

The Bush near the paddock was sparse and it was easy to see footprints in the wet mud. So it wasn't over, there was at least one dinosaur here. He wondered what Mr Dennis would think if he took the time to look around here. Surely it was only a matter of time before he saw one, kept watch at night for whatever it was that was killing his cattle and got the shock of his life.

He seemed like a nice man, wary as farmers are and annoyed at the loss of his cattle and more annoyed that nothing had been done about it until now. Still, he'd been accommodating to them, thinking that the police had finally sent someone to investigate properly.

"So what the bloody hell is it that's doing this?" he asked at his front door.

"That's what we're here to find out," Chris said. "Determine if it's a wild animal."

"Well, I dunno any animals big enough to do this, the police reckon it's people."

"Well, we're here just to check the animal angle, Sir," Turnbull said. "If it is people the police will catch them."

"They've not done much so far, other than sending you people. Reckoned it was a one off so I haven't been watching. Not that I could stay up all night, got a farm to run, small as it is."

"Well, we'll be keeping watch tonight, Sir," Turnbull told him.

"Rather you than me. Catch these buggers for me," and with that he had gone back inside.

∞

So now they were walking through the Bush looking for signs of numbers. They found the 'roo path and it had obviously been widened by activity. There were prints blurred by last night's rain and so it was hard to tell, but it seemed to Chris to be from one animal.

"Just one," Chris said. "I think."

"Our one, I reckon," Turnbull replied looking at a recently broken branch.

"Why?"

"Last time we came here there wasn't much evidence, but it looks like whatever came through here did so in a hurry. Hunted and shot, it probably needed a good meal and fast."

"Maybe that's how another followed it."

"Maybe. So much of all this we will never know. Maybe Woodsy was right, maybe it would be good to capture one and study it."

Chris laughed.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Doesn't matter anyhow, the tranq. gun was busted by the pigs. Only one option now."

"Let's go and see the other farm," Chris said.

∞

They had done so and now sat in the Ute as the Sun went down, lighting the tree tops a lush dark green. They had found much the same as they had here at the Dennis' Farm and Turnbull was somewhat happy that there were only two of them.

They had parked in the Dennis' paddock, close to the road, far enough away from the trees as not to cause suspicion, if Turnbull was right, their dino would recognise the Ute.

"This seems like a long shot," Chris said. "It didn't attack this farm all the time we were out there, it could be another week before it does again."

"We don't have another week, do we?" Turnbull said.

"We could get cameras. I'm sure Jon could get some."

"All that will do is let us watch it after it has happened."

"True," Chris said dejectedly then brightened. "But then the police would have to believe us."

"If nothing happens tonight, that'll have to be the plan," Turnbull nodded to himself.

They sat in silence for a while before Turnbull spoke again.

"It's all over, Chris," he said sadly.

"It doesn't seem so at the moment," Chris replied.

"But after this night we all go our separate ways; whatever happens next, we're not part of it."

"You seem sad about it," Chris looked at him in the gloom.

"I'm just being a bloody sentimental old man, but I've felt more alive since I came down here than for a long time."

"I can't say hunting dinosaurs makes me feel alive."

"Not that. Just being here, doing something with others. In the army, and more so in the SAS, you lived as a squad, you had to to stay alive. I left all that, sickened by the reasons we were being sent to fight. Took me a long time to leave too, and I hid up North, worked in the Bush where I felt, still feel most settled.

"But I see now how much I lost by shunning normal life and normal friendships. It's been good doing this as part of a team, even with Woodsy."

Chris looked out at the tree line and wondered if he felt the same.

"I think what I've learnt from all this is that I need to focus on living a normal life. Appreciating all the good things that I have rather than living in hope for something better. I love my wife and I love teaching, though I hate all the paperwork."

"You should. It can all be taken away in an instant."

Chris looked at him again, something in his tone.

"What happened?"

Rather than reply Turnbull turned in his seat and grabbed what looked like a pair of binoculars and passed them to Chris.

"What's this?"

"Night vision. The moon's waning and the clouds are going to make tonight dark."

Turnbull turned again and pulled his rifle forward along with a scope that he began fixing to the rifle.

"Night vision scope," he said.

"Why didn't we use these before?"

"Moon was full and bright, didn't need them," Turnbull replied still fixing the scope. "Keep scanning the tree line, be ready to drive if I tell you, but keep the engine off until then."

∞

Kylie sat in the family room with the TV on and a bottle of white wine. After last night's excess she knew she shouldn't, but she felt uneasy. It was stupid, she had just had a girl's night out, why shouldn't Chris have a night out camping? But it didn't sit right, not after all that had just happened, everything she had gone through; not knowing if he was alive or dead, wounded. And now he was out there again.

Was it really just a camping trip, or something more? No, she was dancing around the real issue. She had come here, they both had, to settle down, but he had never been truly settled. And then all this had come along and now he was back out there. After all of this, would he want to stay settled? He'd always wanted to do something, had he found that calling? She would stand beside him in any decision he made, but she felt sad that everything they had worked towards might be over. She had friends here, good friends that she was only just getting to know and she didn't want to lose that, didn't want to move on again.

She looked out of the window as a shower came through and felt that something bad was happening.

∞

The sky darkened and the clouds scudded past the waning moon; there was a brief shower and the silence afterwards was deafening.

Chris scanned the tree line through the night vision goggles, but they were quiet and still. They sat there for a long time in silence, Chris was trying to keep himself awake with the thermos of coffee he had and put the goggles up to his eyes once more.

"Turnbull," he hissed. "Movement."

Turnbull came upright in his seat and gestured for the goggles. He looked through them at the trees before handing them back to Chris and poked his rifle through the open window.

"This is it," he whispered and looked through the scope.

Chris raised the goggles again and could make out the shape of the dinosaur in the trees. He knew that it was the dinosaur even though it was indistinct, nothing else was that big. He could hear the cattle lowing and stamping their feet in fear and as he watched, the dinosaur came into the sparse trees and sniffed the air. It seemed unsure and was looking around before setting its eyes on the cows that were now grouping together tightly. A sudden wind shook the trees and light drops of rain splattered the windshield.

"Just a little more," Turnbull said moving his rifle, trying to compensate for the wind.

Chris sat mesmerised watching the beast as it sunk its head down low to the ground, as if ready to charge. He was completely unprepared for Turnbull's shot and the noise made him jump in his seat.

The dinosaur roared and blundered into the field, turning three hundred and sixty degrees. It roared again and the cattle stampeded away, towards the house. Chris looked that way and saw the lights coming on.

"He's going to come out, he'll be stampeded," Chris warned.

"Hit the lights, all of them," Turnbull ordered as he started to pull the scope off.

Chris twisted the key, bringing the engine to life and then switched on the lights, not just the headlights, but the bright spots on top of the cab. They lit the paddock in their cold light and once again the dinosaur roared; then another dinosaur burst from the trees and roared. It looked towards them and then turned for the trees, the other dinosaur following it. Turnbull shot again, just as the dinosaur disappeared into the Bush.

"Dammit," Turnbull shouted.

"Did you get it?"

"I don't bloody know. Maybe the first time," Turnbull replied angrily. "That bloody wind came out of nowhere."

"What now?" Chris asked as the heavens opened and the rain poured.

"Nothing in this rain," Turnbull grunted. "Two of them."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence, both just staring at the tree line and lost in their own thoughts. Chris was torn. He didn't want to go back into the Bush, didn't want to hunt again, but also he felt that he could. He'd done it once, he knew what to expect, what to do. He could do it again, but another part of him wanted to just go home and forget about it. Leave it to others and enjoy his life with his wife. Could he though? How do you go back to a normal, everyday life knowing that there are dinosaurs out there?

"Woodsy didn't think the idea of the torches was much cop," Turnbull said eventually.

"So?"

"Well he didn't think of something. Our dinosaur linked the lights with the guns. Linked them with being hunted. Perhaps we've scared them away from this paddock for good. Now it's a dangerous place to come to."

"You really think?"

"It's the best we can hope for at the moment," Turnbull said putting his gun on the back seat.

"What the bloody hell was that thing?" Dennis shouted as he reached the open window.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

They'd set off as a pack early in the morning for the last leg of the ride and now as the day progressed and the kilometres passed, Fergie was glad he'd decided to do the cycle. He wasn't going to do it, even though he was still as fit as a fiddle he was getting too old for it now. He'd ummed and ahhed over it for a couple of weeks before deciding that, yes, he was too old, but he still wanted one last ride.

And he was glad he'd decided, it was such a beautiful ride, particularly this last leg; cycling off road through the trees. It was spectacular scenery and though it was a hard slog up the hill into Collie it was worth it for that. The Sun was even out today after two days of rain and overcast skies; it was the perfect way to end his cycling career; even if he was going to end it in last place.

He considered again trying to overtake the rider ahead of him, but he was just that little bit too far ahead and Fergie worried he'd have a heart attack trying. His legs ached enough already and it was only the nearness to the end that kept him going at it, just this last K' or so and then back onto tarmac for the last stretch. He was glad he'd booked not just a hotel room for the night, but one with a bath. He'd need it.

He didn't know it then, but in the end he would be grateful for the heart attack that saved him from a far worse death. Ahead of him the trees shook and suddenly a monster appeared and bit the rider ahead in half. His mind shut down everything but his peddling legs and he didn't even get a last thought as he watched the dinosaur run up the road.

His heart stopped just seconds before another dinosaur decapitated him with a claw and ate his body.

∞

Rose Willis couldn't work out what was wrong with her bike, it seemed to be vibrating, she could see the front wheel jittering. Was a nut coming loose? She stopped at the side of the road and looked down. It still felt like her bike was vibrating, in fact she could feel it through the sole of her shoe. She looked left and right before looking back and her heart skipped a beat.

It was a dinosaur.

It couldn't be.

It was and it was coming after her.

No, it couldn't be.

Her subconscious let her conscious battle it out while it told her legs to start peddling again and suddenly Rose Willis' fun ride had become a ride for her life.

∞

Erik was a happy, happy man. The ride was a success and everything he had sorted out in town for the cyclists was going off without a hitch. They had enough water out with more in the shop, sausages on the barbeque and locals had come out to watch as the riders passed the finishing line. People mingled in Soldier's Park that was next to the river and over the road and down slightly from his shop. The weather was glorious for this time of year, a rare Winter's day of bright Sun and some warmth.

Yes, all was going well until the later riders came rushing through. Even as they passed him Erik could see that they were exhausted, yet they continued at full pace. One veered off the road and barrelled onto Soldier's Park before collapsing off of his bike; another rode straight into a group of people by the finishing line, scattering them and hitting one man before crashing to the ground.

Three more cyclists came in and now people were panicking. What was happening? Why were they doing this? Was there something behind them? A motorcycle gang amusing themselves by harassing innocent cyclists?

And then he saw it and his mouth fell open. There between the river and the bowls club, by the bridge to Coombes Street stood two dinosaurs. Yes. Dinosaurs. He couldn't believe it, but that's what they were. How could they be?

"To the shop," he shouted. "Run!"

He took off down the street, not thinking, not knowing what he could do anyway. He looked back to see one of the monsters coming up the road and storming into the park where it grabbed a shrieking woman in its giant clawed hand before biting down on another. He didn't stop to see what else, he ran with the sounds of shouting and screaming in his ears.

∞

The other dinosaur easily pushed through the wire fence and onto the bowls green where twenty retirees were playing. It roared and three people had heart attacks and died instantly while another had a stroke. The rest were too old to run and stood in terror as the monster ate one, then another.

"Get in here," shouted the groundskeeper from the club house as the nearest moved as fast as they could to the doors.

They were too slow, how long could he wait before locking the doors? He didn't know, too long and the monster might get in, but too soon and he might be locking people out to their death. He shook with the fear and indecision as the first few started to get in. The thing was eating people.

Eating people.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing, he felt faint, but he had to stay conscious, had to lock the doors. People were falling to the ground, trying to curl into balls or just lying there and he pulled the doors closed as old Mavis came through. He locked them and walked through the room where people were falling into chairs; he got behind the bar and poured himself a large brandy which he drank down in one.

∞

Alan Grant had never really wanted kids, but when he married Ellie he knew that she wanted them and he was OK with that. Just one though he had hoped and so was gutted when she delivered twins. Still, it was a lot better than he had ever thought it would be, they were the joys of his life, it was just this time of year that was a pain. Not one, but two birthdays to buy for and that's why he had taken the extra work and that was why he was now nearly falling asleep behind the wheel of his two trailered road train.

Still he was coming up to the bridge into town, where Coalfields Road turned into Throssell Street and on his right would be a little parking area for trucks and on the left Sizzle's Deli where he could get a free cup of coffee and some fried chicken.

Yes, coffee, that would get him through. Just what he needed, he could smell it from here...

He jerked awake.

He was over the bridge where the limit dropped down to fifty KPH. He looked down at his speedo and saw he was still doing eighty and he pulled his foot off the gas before looking up and screaming.

In the middle of the road stood a huge dinosaur. No, it couldn't be, he was asleep.

Wake up!

Wake up!

The dinosaur didn't move, just looked at him and he hit the brakes, but he was too fast and too heavy and he smashed into the monster. Blood sprayed up over the windscreen of the cab and he lost the wheel, veering right as the truck jack-knifed. The truck and trailers skidded across the road and he was only saved by the cab landing on the passenger side as it continued into the parking area and smashed into a tree.

He was dazed and floating on the edge of consciousness when he felt rather than saw someone open the door and reach down. He heard the click of the seat belt and then he was being pulled out, handed down to someone else who helped him stumble across the road. He could hear screaming and shouting, someone was asking 'what was that thing?'

"Wake me up," he mumbled, "wake me up."

∞

"What's going on?" Sarah asked entering the room.

"The switchboard has gone mad," Liam replied. "It's insane, we keep getting calls about dinosaurs in town."

"What?"

"I know, what's wrong with these people?"

"Did you say dinosaurs? In town?"

"Yeah. What's happening?"

Sarah went over and picked up one of the waiting calls.

"Police," she said.

"Oh, thank goodness, I live on Mungalup, opposite the golf course."

"How can we help you, ma'am?"

"I don't know how to say it, but, but there's a dinosaur on the golf course."

"A dinosaur? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm looking at it now, it's chasing the 'roos. Oh, no. No. It's just attacked a man," the woman gasped.

"OK, ma'am, we'll deal with it," Sarah said.

"Oh my, oh no," the woman was saying as Sarah cut the line.

"What's happening?" Liam asked again.

"Go and get the guns, the big ones. Now!"

He looked at her in bewilderment and then ran out of the room.

∞

Chris had his phone on the desk to check the time and towards the end of the lesson it vibrated.

"No phones in school," a student called out.

"For students," Chris said for the umpteenth time. "Now, come on, the bell's going to go soon and you need to get this finished or take it home."

The threat of homework always spurred them on and he watched as they got their heads down. He was about to do a lap of the room when his phone started to ring again; he ignored it and walked around the room praising students, giving directions and corrections as the phone once again started vibrating against the desk.

"Someone wants to talk to you pretty bad, Sir," Colin said.

"If it was the school they'd ring on the class phone so it's probably someone trying to sell me something."

"Why you say that?" another asked.

"Because everyone knows that I'm teaching."

"You should probably check it though."

"You should probably get on with finishing your work," he warned as he walked over to the desk and picked up the phone.

The first thing he noticed was the time and he put the phone down and told them to start packing up as he looked at the phone again. Missed calls from Sarah. Now why would she be ringing him?

"Now come on," he told the class. "Talk quietly as you wait for the bell, I actually better take this call," he said as the phone vibrated in his hand.

"Sarah, I'm teaching," he said.

"Dinosaurs," she breathed.

"What?"

"In town."

"Sarah..."

"Dinosaurs in town, Chris. Dinosaurs. In town."

The bell went and he waved them to go.

"What are you talking about?"

"Everyone is ringing, saying dinosaurs in town. Everywhere."

"That's insane, Sarah," he said and looked out of the window.

His class room, a demountable, was next to the iron fence separating the school from the road.

And there it was.

An Australovenator. Just standing in the road looking around.

Chris' classroom was also next to the back gate and he could see the dinosaur turn to look at the kids filing out of his classroom and then one saw it and screamed.

He was running out of the door, opposite the gate, about ten feet away, was the brick Student Services building and he ran to it as the dinosaur, intrigued by the scream started moving toward the gate.

He pulled the door open.

"Everyone get inside now," he shouted. "Now. Inside!"

The dinosaur was in the gate now and he watched in horror as it ate one of his students in a single gulp. His insides froze, time seemed to slow down as some students ran past him while others ran deeper into the school grounds. He didn't know what to do and he pulled a few kids in and shut the door just as the dinosaur reached it, swiping a kid with its claws, cutting her in half and spraying the glass doors with blood.

"Ring the front office, get everyone inside now," he shouted at the woman on the desk.

"What's going on, Chris?"

"Do it. Just do it," he panted.

She looked out of the window and screamed as she saw the beast stomping past. She fumbled with the phone and then was rapidly talking.

Chris wasn't listening, he was raising his phone to his ear.

"You there?"

"Chris?"

"There's one in the school."

"No."

"What are you going to do?"

"We're getting guns, pulling all officers in."

"Good," he said and hung up. He then punched Turnbull's number.

"Chris?"

"They're in town, Turnbull. What are you doing?"

"I just had a bath, getting old. What are you talking about?"

"Dinosaurs, Turnbull, in town. There's one in the school. Oh, no, no."

"Are you safe?"

"For now. I think. I'm in the Student Services building at the back of the school."

"Stay there, I'm coming for you."

Chris clicked off the phone and called Kylie.

"Chris."

"Where are you?"

"At home. What's wrong?"

"Lock all the doors, Kyls. Lock everything and stay inside. Do not go outside."

"Chris you're scaring me, what is it?"

"They're in town, Kyls, the dinosaurs."

"That can't be," she gasped.

"It is. Lots of them, stay inside. I love you so very much," he said and clicked off the call.

All around him students were crying and hugging one another, only a few had the strength to stand. How was this happening? This wasn't life, this was a B movie; it couldn't be happening and yet it was. He let out a long sigh and then took a deep breath. He had to be strong, had to be a hunter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Turnbull ran down to his Ute, his joints still aching, and began pulling everything out of the tray of the Ute and dumping it on the floor of the car park. He then felt around and pressed a secret button that popped the base of the tray and he pulled it up. Underneath was an array of guns.

Big guns.

He looked at them for a second and then pulled out the shotguns, two SPAS 12 pump actions and laid them on the floor. He looked at the Heckler & Koch MP5 and grabbed it out anyway. Then came the big one, a M2 Gepard 12.7mm anti-material rifle. This bad boy was capable of punching holes in brick and mortar and should take down any dinosaur in one hit.

He pulled out all of the ammunition he had and, after taking another look at his array of guns slammed the tray base back down. He threw the lighter weaponry in the back seat along with his trusted rifle and then lifted the M2 into the tray and covered it with a tarp.

∞

Chris was trying to quieten the students and the two staff whilst keep looking through the glass doors to the gate and then at his phone. Where was he?

His phone rang and he jabbed at it and put it to his ear.

"Turnbull?"

"No, it's me, Jon. What's going on? The hospital is in panic talking about dinosaurs."

"They're here, Jon, in town."

"What? How many?"

"I don't know, I'm stuck at school waiting for Turnbull."

"Pick me up," Woods urged.

"No, you're wounded."

"I'm much better and dammit, Chris if you don't I'll go out myself."

"OK, OK, I can't say when though, there's one of them here in the school, Jon. In the school."

"I'll be ready," Woods said and hung up.

At that moment Turnbull's Ute came screeching through the gate and skidded to a stop. Chris ran out to meet him.

"Where is it?" Turnbull asked.

"I don't know, further in, I guess."

Turnbull opened the back door, took out his trusty rifle and handed him a gun.

"What's this?"

"SPAS 12 shotgun. Twelve gauge set to gas, that means you don't have to pump it. Listen, Chris, shotguns don't scatter like they do in films, but they do scatter, so you've got to be fairly close to avoid hitting anyone nearby."

Chris took the gun and looked at.

"I'm not sure I want to get close."

"Sure you do, look it in the eyes before you send it to Kingdom Come," Turnbull smiled.

Chris knew he was just trying to reassure him, but he was right, he did want to kill these monsters, they were attacking his town, his students and that wasn't going to happen. Kylie was here, he wasn't going to let some beast find and eat her.

"OK, let's do this," he said nodding to himself.

They ran through the school, past the library quadrangle where they could see blood on the grass and scattered limbs. Chris looked back at the library doors to see students looking out and he waved a hand at them to get back, but the teachers with them didn't move so neither did the kids.

They ran through the passageway that led into the Humanities quadrangle to find the dinosaur at the far block of classrooms. It was banging its head against one of the sliding wooden doors. Here, like the library quad, Chris was glad to see that all the classroom doors were closed. However, like the other quad there was blood in the grass the remains of students scattered around. Chris wanted to vomit, never had he seen such an appalling sight; whatever you could say about them as students, they were still children and children are innocent of the horrors of man.

"Hey," Turnbull shouted dropping to one knee and sighting along the rifle.

The dinosaur stopped and turned to face them.

"You're history."

The dinosaur roared at them and Turnbull shot it in the mouth so that the bullet passed into its brain. It took two steps forward before gasping and falling head first, dead.

"What the hell? Chris?" shouted Webby from an open door.

"Webby, are you alright?"

"Other than this?" he gestured to the dead dinosaur.

"Yeah. Other than this," Chris shrugged.

"Is that a gun?"

"It's a SPAS 12," Chris shrugged.

"Well, no shit. You weren't joking when you said it wasn't a croc."

"Listen, Webby, you've got to get to the office, I think it's safe for now. Get them to get the kids to the gym and then lock everyone in."

"You think it's safe?"

"Not the time, mate."

"OK. Can't be worse than my bottom year tens," he said before shouting inside for everyone to stay still. "I hate assemblies, Chris, you know that," he said with a grin before running to the office.

"Come on, let's go," Turnbull ordered.

"We've got to go and get Jon," Chris replied.

"Yeah. Course we do, mate."

∞

They pulled up outside the hospital and Chris ran in to find Jon. Turnbull got out and into the tray of the Ute where he uncovered the M2 Gepard and set it up on its stand before lifting it up and onto the roof of the cab. He then bent down and grabbed a bolt gun and bolted the stand to the roof before testing that the gun could swivel in a big enough arc. After that he connected a homemade harness to the roll bar behind the cab and tested its strength.

"What the hell is that?" Chris asked.

"Anti-material gun, capable of punching holes in walls, should do the trick," Turnbull said. "You good to drive, Woodsy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Chris filled you in?"

"Yes, let's go."

Turnbull strapped himself into the harness.

"And that?" Chris asked.

"Harness. Made it myself, should stop me getting flung out the truck," Turnbull explained.

"Should?"

"Well, I ain't tried it yet. Maiden voyage."

Chris sighed and got into the cab with Jon.

"Can you hear me?" Turnbull asked through the radio headset.

"Loud and clear," Chris returned through his own that Turnbull had given him on the way to the hospital.

He grabbed another off of the back seat and gave it to Woods.

"Where are we going?" Woods asked.

"Just drive, see what we can find," Turnbull said. "The hunt's back on, boys."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The police had three cars out with twelve officers, all they had, and between them they each had one Smith & Wesson AR-15 semi-automatic rifle as well as their standard issue Glock 22 pistols.

Sarah's car pulled across the bridge at the end of Coombes Street, next to Soldier's Park, blocking traffic coming into town. The officers jumped out of the car, one going onto the bridge to turn traffic back while the others looked dumbfounded at the carnage in the park.

The grass was stained red and strewn with body parts and bicycles; one officer threw up, but Sarah was beyond feeling sick, was too stunned to feel anything. How could this have happened? It was a nightmare that left you thrashing and screaming in your sleep, unable to awake from it.

And there, down the road was the cause of the horror, a dinosaur. It was big and sleek and stomping and snorting as it seemed to bang its head against a shop window.

"OK. OK, we've got to get down there and shoot that thing."

"What is it?" Harry asked fearfully.

"It's a dinosaur," she replied bluntly.

"But that can't be," George insisted.

"Well it is," Sarah snapped. "Give me the rifle."

George handed it over without question, it was obvious to Sarah that he wouldn't be able to use it. She was somewhat protected from the shock by her knowledge of what Chris had been doing, she had somewhat accepted that there were dinosaurs out there, but she had never thought of this.

"Come on, we're going to have to get close if these guns are going to work. Use the cars for cover, try to flank it. If I think it'll work, I'll use the rifle to distract it."

The two officers looked at her and then each other before nodding slightly and running towards the parked cars that lined the street.

∞

Crank 'n' Cycles wasn't a big shop. The left side was crammed with bikes and accessories while through a doorway the right side was full of shelves lined with toys. In between all of this he had around twenty scared people, a number of who sat sobbing in terror.

"What the bloody hell is that thing?" one older man asked.

"I don't know," Erik replied. "It looks like a dinosaur."

"It can't be, that's stupid," Geoff Farmer argued.

"Well then what is it?" Erik pushed.

"I. I don't know," Farmer mumbled as the dinosaur hit the window again and someone screamed.

"What does it want?" he heard a woman plead.

"We're safe, OK?" Erik called.

"How can you say that?" someone else shouted.

THUD. This time the door.

"Will it hold?" Jennifer Godbury asked.

"Yes," Erik said, but he wasn't sure.

How could he know? The shop was secured to stop even the most ardent thief. You had to be secure when your merchandise was on wheels, but this wasn't a thief, it was a huge monster.

There was another thud and this time he heard the glass crack. Crack, not shatter, but another hit and that would be it. The only hope he had was that the windows were displays, meaning that beyond them was a space and a backing, in that space stood a bike for show. Hopefully the monster wouldn't try to break the back, it wasn't strong enough to hold it; hopefully it would be confused and give up. Could it even fit through the window?

"It's going to get in," someone screamed.

"It's not," Erik shouted back. "Grab a weapon," he said quietly to the small group around him.

Life was full of surprises, he thought as he picked up his large 15 inch spanner. He knew that, he knew he could never take anything for granted, but this was like nothing he had ever dreamed of. How could you? It was like a late night film on TV, a monster movie. Not real life; I mean how can you live life if you are mentally prepared for something like this? You couldn't. You couldn't live day to day trying to predict the tribulations of the future, always waiting for something to happen instead of living with what you had.

But still. Dinosaurs?

The door rattled with another thud, but held.

How do you fight something like this? They needed the army, but what would you tell them? How do you call the army anyway? He guessed the police could, but not from here, they'd have to call Perth first and convince them. They'd all be dead before the army arrived.

The window shattered and there were screams and sobs from in the shop.

"Be quiet," Erik hissed. "Try and hide."

Those around him shushed others until there was only the low sobbing of some of them from amongst the toys.

He stood there, just a flimsy wall and a few metres of bikes between the monster and them, armed with a variety of bicycle repair equipment. It was hopeless, but he had to do something, he had to at least try and protect the people in there with him. He thought again of trying to get them out of the backdoor. When he had first mentioned it they had all agreed that they were safer inside than out, but maybe that wasn't true anymore. But then what if the dinosaur didn't manage to break in and he sent them all out to get eaten by the other monster? How many were there? Surely only the two he had seen. Surely. No, nothing was sure anymore.

∞

Sarah was closer now and she was too focussed on saving whoever was in the shop, Crank 'n' Cycles she saw, that she was no longer amazed or confused by the dinosaur's presence. She had a job to do. She raised her head above the car she was behind to see where George and Harry were. She was pleased to see that they were keeping it together and moving slowly along the road. She looked back at the dinosaur to see it's head smash through one of the windows; she could see it back out and thrust its claws through. Was it grabbing someone? She raised the rifle, feeling for the selector, making sure it was in semi-auto. Down the barrel she saw the dinosaur retreat with a bike in its claws, she watched it try to bite it and then shake it until it fell to the ground where the dinosaur stomped on it and bit at the tires.

There couldn't be much between the dinosaur and those inside and there were obviously enough in there for the dinosaur to try so hard to get at them. She looked again at where her fellow officers were and decided that they didn't have time to get into positions. She wanted to let them know, but she was afraid the radio would give them away, endanger them. Instead she aimed her gun on the great beast and squeezed the trigger.

The bullets splattered into the monster's side and it roared at the sky looking left, straight at her, before smashing forward.

∞

The dinosaur seemed to have stopped. Maybe it had given up, gone to find others to torment. But then he heard the gun fire and the terrible roar before the dinosaur smashed straight through the display window and landed on the bikes. It scrabbled to get purchase as the bikes toppled and the monster slipped and fell left, smashing the counter to splinters.

Erik stared at it as it's massive legs kicked out mangling his stock, struggling to get up. He could see blood oozing from its side and without thinking he ran up the thin aisle and hit it on the head with his spanner. The monster flicked its head up and knocked him flying back. He scrambled to his feet to see the monster find purchase and start to get up and so he ran back at it.

It was half way up, just getting a leg under itself when Sprocket the cat leapt at its head hissing and began clawing at its eyes; Erik swiped at it with the spanner, but missed as it shook the cat off before pulling itself up and lunging, its great mouth open, full of sharp teeth. Erik plunged his hand into that gaping maw, pulling it away, falling to the floor as the monster shut its mouth onto the vertical spanner. He saw the metal tips skewer the inside top of it's mouth and the dinosaur roared, but the spanner stayed put.

It shook it's head to try and dislodge it, tried to close its mouth, but couldn't. Erik got to his feet to see Sprocket leap at it's face again, gouging an eye. The monster flicked the cat off and turned, knocking him back over with it's tail before jumping back through the hole it had made.

∞

Sarah ran forward in horror, the other two officers doing the same. What had she done? They had been safe until she had opened fire and now that monster was in there with them. She stopped and signalled Harry and George to do the same. She wasn't close enough to see through the hole the dinosaur had made and so she started to edge forwards.

She hadn't got much closer, rifle up, when she heard the roar and suddenly the monster was jumping back out onto the street. She fell backwards in surprise and watched as the dinosaur turned all the way around, shaking its head and she could see something hanging from the top of its mouth. Whatever it was finally shook free and clanged to the ground. The monster stamped its feet as blood poured from it's mouth and then someone shot.

The dinosaur turned to Harry who still had his gun up and it roared again. Poor Harry was too scared to move and just stood there looking up at it as it took a step towards him. She couldn't shout, her mouth was dry, she tried to raise her gun only to find that she had dropped it. She looked around and scrambled for it, she wasn't going to get there in time when she heard the screech of tires.

She looked up to see the dinosaur towering over Harry when it's head exploded in a spray of blood, brain and bone. She scrambled to her feet and ran for Harry as the monster crumpled. She pulled him away just before it fell where he had been standing and looked beyond to see what had happened. There was a Ute, already pulling a U-turn, with a gun on the roof and a man behind it. What the hell?
CHAPTER THIRTY

Tia Downey wasn't meant to be here.

It wasn't just today, she'd thought when she left school she'd walk into a job. She'd done the vocational programme at school and so she had some certificates that she thought would get her a job and so, she could admit it, she hadn't tried too hard to pass High School. She'd barely passed in fact and the few jobs that were going went to kids who had done better than her. So now she was still stuck working at McDonalds. She saw all the kids walking home from school, passing Maccas to cross the train line behind and she wished she'd tried harder. Maybe she would be in Perth now if she had.

But it wasn't just that, it had been Tom's party yesterday and she'd booked today off so she could get hammered. Which she did. Not only that but she'd shagged Bryce and that made her feel sicker than the hangover did. This wasn't life. She wasn't meant to be here, she'd booked the time off, but then they had phoned her this morning and when she'd argued they had told her she could come in or they could find someone else to do her job.

So here she was, hung-over in a crappy, stupid job and now it was filling up for lunch. Even at the counter the smell of the food made her want to throw up, she had to hold it back every time she handed a customer their tray.

But all that was forgotten when the monster crashed through the glass windows. She couldn't believe it, it looked like a dinosaur. Was she still drunk? Probably a bit, but that couldn't explain this.

People began screaming and trying to run out, but the monster bit them, slashed them with it's huge claws, the restaurant was filled with blood and screaming and she just stood there.

She wasn't meant to be here.

She could see the monster's nostrils flaring and then it was looking at her. No, not her, it could smell the cooking. It was massive, it nearly filled the small restaurant and now it took two steps towards her. She could smell it, it stank. It looked at her and then opened it's mouth wide and she vomited down her front.

I'm not even meant to be here, she thought as the mouth closed around her.

∞

Turnbull had instructed Chris and he had tuned into the police frequency on the Ute's radio.

"This isn't legal," Chris had said.

"Neither is this gun, mate, but desperate times," Turnbull said over the radio.

They caught the news of a dinosaur heading towards the local McDonalds and headed there, though they had to go around to get over the train line.

"How is this happening?" Chris asked.

"Out at the Dennis' Farm," Woods said. "Maybe the dinosaurs decided we were threats that needed to be taken care of."

"Are they that clever? Until now surely they had no idea the town was here," Chris replied.

"True," Woods mused. "It's hard to say anything about living dinosaurs, we don't know much about the dead ones."

They came screaming up the road and as they skidded into the car park Chris could see the dinosaur in the restaurant. It was looking at a girl behind the counter.

"I can't get a shot from this angle, move the car, Woodsy," Turnbull said.

"No time," Chris said and jumped out of the car.

He heard Turnbull shout at him as he ran to the ruined windows and jumped in. Just in time to see the dinosaur closing its mouth over the girl. He shot it in the neck and the beast opened its mouth and roared.

He fixed his eyes on it and stepped back as it turned, just seeing from the corner of his eyes that the girl was OK. He shot at it again, the pellets taking chunks out of its chest as it took a step toward him, raising it's head to the ceiling. He shot it under the chin, ripping away the flesh, but it still didn't go down, just grunted and stamped a foot, but then it's head disappeared in an explosion of blood and Chris looked back to see Turnbull behind the gun.

He let out a long breath; Woods had been able to move the Ute to a firing position outside the windows. He sucked in a breath and then ran out and jumped in.

"Thanks, Turnbull," he said.

"Where now?" he asked back.

"Jon?"

"Radio says there's one at the golf course, hell they seem to be everywhere," Woods replied.

"Step on it then, Woodsy."

They pulled out of the car park and headed down the road. Across the railway tracks was the shopping centre that included the Woolworths supermarket. Chris could see three Utes with men in the back the same as Turnbull; they had guns and had a dinosaur blocked in. Men coming from or not yet gone to their shifts at the mines and power stations, Chris thought.

"You see that?" he asked.

"I can't get a safe shot from here," Turnbull replied.

"Should we go and help?" Woods asked.

"No, they look like they're dealing with it."

Chris could see that Turnbull was right. They had it blocked in and were firing on it. They wouldn't be high calibre guns, only hunting rifles and Chris wasn't sure they could take a dinosaur down, but perhaps the combined firepower could.

"They could die," he said.

"So could the people at the golf course, and they're only armed with clubs," Turnbull said and Woods sped up.

They turned left onto Mungalup Road and sped along until the golf course appeared on their left. Chris could see the dinosaur chasing a mob of kangaroos and a police car chasing the dinosaur. One of the officers was trying to lean out of the window with what looked like a machine gun, but it wasn't like it was in films and he was struggling.

They skidded through the entrance and straight onto the greens, kicking up grass and dirt as they raced along. Chris could see overturned golf carts and the parts of bodies strewn over the grass. It didn't seem to bother him anymore, it had become too commonplace a sight over the day and that gnawed at him. He should feel revulsion, but instead he felt the calm necessity of getting a job done.

When they reached the dinosaur, the police had overtaken it and come to a halt sideways to it, no doubt to get a better shot, but the dinosaur was currently smashing the car with it's claws as the terrified coppers ducked in the foot wells.

They skidded to a halt and the dinosaur looked over at them, roared and ran just as Turnbull fired at it. The shot missed and smashed a tree to splinters by the river that ran the other side of the course. Chris jumped out without thinking, had he seen what he thought? How could he have?

"What are you doing?" Turnbull shouted at him.

"Shoot it," Chris shouted back running to the police car.

"Reloading."

"Dammit," Chris shouted watching the dinosaur stop near the trees and turn back to look at them.

A golf cart came skidding to a halt and someone got out.

"Chris?"

"Sam? What are doing here?"

"I was trying to play golf. What the hell is that thing?"

"Forget that, help me get these doors open," Chris commanded.

Big Sam ran over, still keeping an eye on the dinosaur and grabbed at the nearest crumpled door and wrenched it off.

"Come on, get out and go," Chris commanded the police who started to ease out.

"What's going on here?" Sam pleaded.

"Get to the Ute, join the others," Chris told him watching the dinosaur slink into the trees. "Shoot it."

Turnbull lined up, but his muscles were aching from the recoil of the big gun. He fired, but the dinosaur dodged and disappeared into the trees.

Chris was already running after it, closing the distance to the river.

"What are you doing?" Woods asked over the radio.

"Going after it, get back to town."

"Don't be stupid," Woods said back, but got no reply and then the radio crackled to life.

"Here," Turnbull said pressing the quick release, "I can't shoot it anymore."

"You want me to shoot that thing?" Big Sam asked.

"Just get up here."

"We've got reports of a dinosaur at the High School," Woods said over the radio as Turnbull played with the harness, making it big enough for Sam.

"Chris told a teacher to get all the kids to the gym, it must be smelling them all there," Turnbull said tightening the straps around Sam. "You're not going anywhere, but if you have to, hit this button to release."

He jumped down and got into the passenger seat as Woods hit the gas and sped out the way they had come.

∞

Sarah was in her car chasing a dinosaur up Atkinson Street North, away from town, but towards Amaroo Primary School. Was that where it was heading, or was it just running at random? Could it smell people? Smell the kids who were no doubt hiding there, scared in their classrooms? She couldn't take that chance even though she was now getting reports of people forming armed barricades around the primary schools. What of the High School, she wondered briefly, but didn't have the luxury of wondering.

Instead she pulled her pistol and leant out of the window, firing at the monster which, to her luck and it's demise, made the monster stop and turn, roaring at them before running on. It gave them the precious seconds to catch up with the dinosaur before Sarah told Harry to skid to a halt.

He did and she rested the semi-automatic on the door, sighted on the monsters legs and fired. She wasn't accurate, just sprayed and when she stopped she could see the dinosaur staggering and then falling face first, its legs shredded.

"Holy..." George breathed.

The radio crackled again and this time she listened to it; reports of men in the back of Utes with guns, well OK, she couldn't blame them and they needed all the help they could get, she swelled with pride at the townsfolk, but one report of a Ute with a massive gun on the back? That had to be Chris and his friends, she'd seen Jon driving, she knew she had, but what were they doing?

∞

The rain started falling again as the Ute chased up Crampton Street and skidded left onto Paterson and there on their right was the school oval with the gym at the far end and the dinosaur using its head to try and break down the double doors. It pulled back and roared and then hit the wall with a claw.

Woods pulled right onto the oval, rolling down the slope onto the grass and coming to a halt. Big Sam tried to sight the gun on the monster, he was shaking inside and out, he couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was doing. It was up to him to save the kids inside. He could see that the doors were buckled, but holding, but they wouldn't for much longer.

He took a deep breath, tried to sight through the rain and fired. The bullet smacked into the brick work above and to the right of the dinosaur which now turned to them. It was big and evil looking and Sam felt his stomach flip, was it now going to come for them? Could he hit it or had he sacrificed them all?

But the monster didn't come for them, instead it went right, around the gym. Woods accelerated towards it, but from there they could see a steep slope to the left and stairs to the right of the gym. They'd have to go back onto the road to get into the school and maybe lose it. He pulled up by the stairs.

Sam didn't think, he knew he had to save those kids, had to kill that thing before it killed others. He pressed the quick release and, setting his feet, pulled the M2 Gepard from its bolts in the roof before jumping down as Turnbull and Woods got out.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Turnbull demanded.

"Killing that thing," Sam replied and ran to, and up, the stairs.

"Check on the people in the gym and then get the car back on the road," Turnbull instructed Woods before chasing after Sam.

Up the stairs was a building, to the left were the gates, to the right Sam watched the dinosaur disappear between two buildings through the canteen area and chased it. It squeezed through the archway that lead to the library quadrangle as Sam tried to aim up on it. He ran on instead, coming out into the quadrangle to see the dinosaur unsure whether to go left through open ground to the gate next to Student Services or squeeze through another arch and into the Humanities quadrangle.

Sam fell to one knee and hefted the giant gun, sighting down the scope, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, tracking the monster as it started to move left. As his breath left him he aimed ahead of the monster and squeezed the trigger. A great gush of blood exploded out of its side and it stopped and roared, turning on him. It came fast and he couldn't get another shot in, this was it, he was dead, he had failed.

He didn't even realise that he was standing as the beast was on him, opening its great jaws, but then its head jinked right and a gout of blood spurted. He didn't think, planting his feet he swung his great fist, uppercutting the monster. Its head flew back and Sam punched it again in the chest, staggering it back and then Turnbull was there, his rifle pushed against the monsters skin, firing one, two rounds into it, being knocked back by the recoil.

The monster staggered back and Sam ran in to it's left, grabbing its arm he hit it as hard as he could where he had shot it, his hand disappeared into flesh and he pulled it out in disgust, coming back to himself he staggered back. The dinosaur staggered left, then right and then collapsed and Big Sam watched as Turnbull walked up, larger than life and put a bullet point blank into the monster's skull.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Chris had run down the bank through the trees to see the Australovenator wading along the river, back towards town. He started to scramble after it, like Turnbull had said, he would have to get close for the SPAS to do any damage.

Could it be? he thought again. He could swear that when the beast had turned from the cop car he had seen the bullet hole, the one he had made so long ago in the Bush. But he couldn't have, it was too small at that distance; but it had dodged the bullet, as if it had known what guns were. Known who they were and what the gun could do and it hadn't fled, hadn't attacked, had just stood there and watched them from the trees.

The river bent left and the dinosaur climbed the bank and ran across Eden Park before disappearing back down the bank. Chris was forced to follow the U bend in the river, but at least here the River Walk started and he could move faster along the path. The beast also climbed the bank onto the path and Chris hid behind a tree as it stopped to look back. Surely it could smell him, but if it could it wasn't interested in attacking, it was moving along the path again.

Now they were in the Lion's Memorial Park and Chris wondered if the beast would cut through it to the road. That would be Patterson, leading down to the school, but no, it carried on through picking up the pace and leaving Chris behind.

He picked up his own pace, wondering how he could ever get close enough to the dinosaur to shoot it. He knew the river walk and knew that he could soon cut across to the streets and get to the bridge ahead of the beast. But what if he couldn't? This thing was fast and what if it didn't come to the bridge, what if it went somewhere else? He would lose it.

Still, he knew the walk, knew that ahead the river would bend right into a big loop. Either the dinosaur would cross the river and come out on Gibbs Road, somewhere opposite Roche Park, or it would follow the river to the bridge. He clicked on his radio.

"Where are you?"

"Chris?"

"Jon, where are you?"

"High School, they just killed another dino."

"Get to Roche Park, Gibbs Street. Sam will know it. You need to watch the road for an emerging dino."

"We're on it, are you alright?"

But Chris didn't answer, he had lost sight of the dino and picked up his pace. He was getting tired, his legs and arms aching, but he couldn't stop, couldn't slow down. The river was bending left before bending right into the loop. He got there just in time to see the beast emerging from the river and climbing the bank. It looked back at him from the tree line and roared before disappearing into the Bush. He had to risk it, had to cut diagonally left to get to the bridge and hope that if he was wrong the others would be waiting for it.

He started pushing through the Bush, trying to listen to where the dinosaur was, but it had begun to rain again and sounds became distorted. He was torn between moving fast and the fear of running into the beast. Now that it was in the trees would it turn to fight? Could it be scared of him?

Perhaps, if it was the dinosaur he shot, his dinosaur, as he thought of it. The one that had started all of this, that had plunged him into this nightmare. But had it? Had it plunged him, or had he plunged into it himself? Why hadn't he collected evidence to take to the police? Why had he insisted in leading an expedition into the Bush?

He had always felt that there was more to life than what he had, he was always looking, trying to do something more than the situations he found himself in and, he would never tell Kylie, he had been living with a crisis of identity since marrying her and settling here. He'd spent so many years travelling the world, seeing new places, having amazing adventures that surely it couldn't be God's plan for him to just settle down into a normal life. Just walk away from his past into being a person he didn't know. This wasn't him was it? Just a teacher, just a husband, just a small town resident. He'd seen and done things most of these people could never imagine and so maybe he had jumped at this, jumped at the chance to be adventurous again. To be something more than what people thought of him.

Maybe his foolish wants had caused all of this, all this death and destruction, just because he couldn't be happy with what he had. A teacher and husband in a small town that he loved.

He pushed through the thickening Bush, he now worried he was going too slow when he burst out onto David Hay Street and rushed to the bridge only to see that the Australovenator had already passed under it, moving fast in the shallow part of the river. He aimed from the bridge and shot, but the pellets scattered and from that distance only peppered the beast which roared but did not stop.

Soldier's Park would be the next place from which he could get a shot and so he ran. Down Throssell Street seeing the overturned truck and the dead dinosaur before turning right onto Lefroy Street and to Soldier's Park.

As he got there he saw the dinosaur had emerged from the river and was crossing the park. He dropped to one knee and shot, but he was still too far away. The beast roared again crossing the park toward the shops. It ran up the road, coming closer to him and he readied a shot when he saw people in Crank n Cycles, saw the dino corpse and saw Erik there by the door and couldn't risk the shot. Instead he cut across the park and got to the corner to see the dinosaur had reached the mall. It stopped and looked at the building front. Automatic doors, Chris thought, people inside. He shot on the run and the beast turned to look back at him before ducking it's head and disappearing.

As soon as it had people started fleeing out of the mall doors in panic. Stupid, Chris, stupid. He pushed his way through them and entered the mall.

It wasn't big, just a few shops either side, ending in the open fronted Woolworth's supermarket. People still streamed past him and he could see some were injured, could see some dead, ripped apart, but not for food, just out of panic. He saw the ruined turnstile that you had to go through into Woolies. So it was in there.

Trapped.

He slowed now and walked into the supermarket. He could hear the rain hammering on the high metal roof, could hear the beasts steps as its claws clacked on the floor, but all the noises mingled and got lost up and down the aisles. It was impossible to follow it by sound.

He walked to the first aisle and then up it. Getting to the end there was an aisle that ran the length of the shop, but there was nothing there. He walked slowly along looking down the aisles. It could smell him, he knew, it could smell where he was. He ducked down an aisle until he reached the other end, where the checkouts were, but there was nothing left or right. It could smell him and was going down aisles before he could see it.

He was trapped if he stayed.

He went to the next aisle and ran along it coming to the other end just to see a tail disappearing. He ran to that aisle, but the beast was gone. Where was it? In the next aisle? Or moving out of the supermarket? He ran down the aisle, but there was nothing at the end. He could see into the rest of the mall and there was nothing there. So it was still inside, hunting him.

He ran back down the aisle to the far end of supermarket and began running up and down, looking into each aisle. Turning back on himself suddenly to try and catch it by surprise and then, suddenly, there it was. At the far end of the aisle. He took a deep breath.

"I should be thanking you," he shouted.

The Australovenator looked at him and stepped into the aisle. It turned slightly as if to show him the bullet wound which he could now see. So it was his dinosaur.

"I've been searching all my life," he said stepping further into the aisle. "Travelling the World, always thinking there was more to life, but now, thanks to you, I realise I have all I want. All that I need. A job I enjoy, a loving wife, just a small town life."

With that he charged at the beast, shotgun raised. The Australovenator ran at him, but didn't have the distance to get up speed. It lowered its head and opened its mouth.

As they met he shoved his shotgun far into that gaping maw and pulled the trigger, pulling his arms out just a moment before the jaws snapped shut.

For a second he was nose to nose with the beast. His beast. It looked him in the eyes and he felt pity before it's legs folded and it fell to the ground. The back half of it's head missing.

"No more hunting."

∞

He had radioed Jon and as he walked out of the automatic doors the Ute pulled up and he got into the back seat next to Sam.

"Any more?" he asked wearily.

"The police aren't reporting anymore," Turnbull said.

"So did we get them all?"

"There's no more in town," Woods said.

"But did we get them all?" Chris pushed.

"Who knows?" Woods said. "We don't know how many there were, maybe some fled back to the Bush."

"Enough talk, get us to the Feddy," Turnbull said.

They drove through the streets, past dead dinosaurs and people milling about. The town had been attacked and the people had come out to protect it, but now it was over they weren't sure what to do. The police were arriving and he could hear someone on a megaphone as they reached the Federal Hotel and parked out back.

"Come on, quickly, get everything out, all the weapons," Turnbull told them.

He went to the tray, yanked out the harness and gun and pushed the button, popping open the base.

"What the hell, Turnbull?" Woods said.

"What?"

"Is that a grenade launcher?" Sam asked.

"Forget it, just give me the weapons."

Turnbull took the weapons and clicked them back into place.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Harness," Sam said scooping it up and throwing it in.

"Good," Turnbull said slamming the secret compartment closed. "Now, I don't know about you boys, but I could do with a beer."
If you enjoyed this book, perhaps you would consider helping a brother out and rating or reviewing it? IT really could change my life...

Still, while you're here, why not check out the following extracts by the same author:

The ADVENTURES IN SPACE series

The TSAR Trilogy

Book 1

The Trimedian

A NOT SO QUIET SATURDAY (extract)

"Jase? Where you been? I've been trying to call you," It was Jason's best friend Milk. Though he had no idea why he was called this and neither, seemingly, did Milk.

"Yes, that's why I've had my phone off."

"Well it's not off now."

"No, I can see that. I'm trying to have a peaceful Saturday."

"Ahhh," came Milk's voice down the line, it was one of those 'ahhh's that says I'm about to ruin whatever it was that you were doing before I came along. "Well, we need to meet up and chat, well I say chat, more like incredibly long, serious conversation that is best taken place in a pub over a number of beers, the effect of which will help you to believe it was all a dream the next day until I turn up and say it again."

"I've got a free Saturday," said Jason frowning.

"Great, I'll come over now."

"No, I mean I have a free Saturday and I'm enjoying it that way."

"Ahh, valkswagon. A free Saturday is hard to come by in this day and age."

Milk was vexed, he had seriously life changing news for Jase, news that could not wait; but at the same time you don't want to be the person to spoil a free Saturday.

"Weeeeelllll, why don't we just go to the pub for a pint or two? That's still regular fare for a free Saturday, is it not?"

"I guess..." said Jason feeling lured.

"Brilliant, see you at the 'Horse's Arse' in thirty minutes," and he hung up the phone.

Jason turned his phone off and got back to his sandwich. His phone promptly switched itself back on to pass on the information it had just heard, little did it know that this was the beginnings of the best piece of gossip in history, gossip that would make the phone famous across the globe, or at least as famous as phones can be.

As he ate, Jason thought about his friend, Milk. He had known him five years, which equated to his whole life as Jason had come out of a coma five years ago with no memory about anything before. The only thing or person he vaguely recognised was Milk who filled him in with everything and helped him get back to life.

Allegedly Jason had been in a car crash, though he had no knowledge of how to drive when he woke up. The doctors were quite frankly astounded that he could remember absolutely nothing and more astounded that despite this he made a full recovery. And even more astounded that said full recovery took him a mere ten minutes after he awoke. Jason Wellgood, they would say, was a strange case. Just how strange a case the man himself was about to find out over a pint of local bitter.

***

"Well," said Milk once they were seated with a pint each, "where to begin? Hmm, I think I'll begin with a drink."

He began tipping the booze down his neck and Jason took the chance to peruse his friend. Milk was a quite frankly huge Indian guy who had a penchant for wearing a turban merely for the look. 'Makes me feel like a real Indian' he was want to say. Milk must have been seven foot if not a bit more and was built like a brick outhouse for want of a more polite turn of phrase. He also had an incredibly posh voice when they first met, though that had slowly included more London mockney as the years went by. He was dressed in a silver tracksuit that was beyond hideous, but how do you go about telling a seven foot Indian he looks like a nonce? Jason, himself, was wearing the classic American combination of white T shirt and jeans along with his standard faded red leather jacket.

He took a deep drink of his own beer, which was logical, and asked, "So?"

"Right, yes, well. More beer?"

"No."

"No, right, well, so, er... the accident, then, five years ago."

Jason suddenly had a deep sense of unease, he also had a shallow sense of unease, but no one ever seems to care about them, do they? Did Milk know something that he wasn't telling him?

"Do you know something you're not telling me?"

"In a word, yes. That whole accident thing was a bit of a lie."

Jason put his pint down a little too hard. "A bit of a lie? What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, basically, it never actually happened. We wiped your memory."

"You... you what?"

"Wiped your memory."

Jason sat in bewilderment. He'd never been there before and though it seemed an interesting place in a Jackson Pollock sort of way, it was not a place he wanted to stay in for more than a few minutes. Much like student poetry recitals.

"Wait a minute. We? You said 'we' wiped my memory; who's we?"

"Well, I think we ought to come back to that later. There are more, er, puzzling things for you to discover first. Go and get us a pint each whilst I collect my thoughts."

Jason could have argued, but there didn't really seem any point, and he could do with more booze. Milk sat there staring at the back of his huge hands, he slowly turned them over and let his eyes follow the lines of his palms, more like crevasses than lines really. He sighed; he would miss Earth and this thought surprised him, he was disappointed to come here five years ago, hidden away from the rest of the Universe, but he really didn't have much choice if he was honest with himself and it was a cushy gig. That was what he couldn't work out, and still hadn't, why those in charge had let him come, done something so, well, nice. It was out of character.

Still he'd grown to like the planet; it was famous for a number of reasons, despite its backwardness. For one, Earth seemed to have a regenerative effect on those who did not live there and so had many famous (and hidden from Earthens) spas. Just a week on Earth could have you looking and feeling a year younger.

Secondly, the thing with Earthens was that their backwardness meant they concentrated on things no one else did. Like perfecting a good pint, inventing the guitar, jokes, TV. No one else in the Universe bothered too much with TV because if they wanted to escape, wanted adventure, they just went out and found it rather than get it vicariously through a box. On the other hand, you'd never find Jimi Hendrix on any other planet as no one would spend that much concentration on a musical instrument. He was glad Earth was as it was for this reason; the Universe without Jimi wasn't really a universe at all.

Jason plonked himself down with two pints and a packet of pork scratchings.

"So where were we? Ahh, yes, you were drivelling on about wiping my memory. I'd think you were joking, but you don't really get jokes do you?"

Milk was aggrieved. "I think I've gotten a lot better at understanding them over the last five years, I even made that girl laugh last week at the Jamestown Club!"

"Well, I'll give you that; it was pretty funny, though I can't actually remember what you said."

Milk sighed, no he couldn't either, damn his penchant for vodka jellies. He just remembered the warm surge of pride as they all laughed and now he was glad he had got one good one in before they left.

"Anyway, we're getting away from ourselves."

"I'd like to be getting away from you."

"Not going to happen anytime soon. Listen your name isn't really Jason Wellgood, you're not really a writer, and you don't even really come from Earth."

"Excuse me?" Jason didn't really believe his ears, his friend had always been a bit odd, but it seemed he had finally snapped.

"Your name isn't really Jason Wellgood, you're not really a writer, and you don't even really come from Earth."

Best to take this calmly, don't freak out, help your friend, listen to his delusions and then ever so gently suggest some help.

"So what is my name?" this was an ever so wrong moment to take a sip of his pint.

"Chase Darkstaar."

Jason splat his pint across the table, gagged and coughed at the same time, belched and then laughed. "Chase Darkstaar? That's ridiculous!"

"Yeah, I know," said Milk somewhat gloomily.

"You're serious aren't you?" Jason frowned.

As previously mentioned Milk wasn't the greatest punster and this kind of trickery would be beyond him even if he had gone mad. Jason didn't know why, but something in his friend's face convinced him that Milk was telling the truth. I guess that is what friendship is, isn't it? Being willing to trust your friend on a look; believing the most farfetched truths.

"Your name is Chase Darkstaar and you are an intergalactic hitman. Basically you hid something very important and then came to Earth and had your memory wiped so that even if someone found you, you couldn't tell them where it was."

"Er... why?"

"That I have never been able to work out."

"Right and so a/ where do you come into all this, b/ why are you telling me now and c/ what did I hide?"

Despite the obvious lunacy Jason kind of wanted it to be true so that he would not lose his friend to an asylum and so that his life might be somewhat more exciting.

"Well, c/ I don't know; a/ I'm your friend and assistant in all things, when you chose this job I had to come and make sure everything was OK. Make sure you settled into Earth life etc. and b/ I'm telling you this now because there is an intergalactic WAR brewing and it is very possible that people will come looking for you to get whatever it is that you hid."

"Right. Sooo..." He took a long gulp of beer. "What's the plan?"

"Well, I have to prove all this to you I suppose."

"Good place to start."

"Then we need to try and get your memory back so that you can find whatever you hid and divert the WAR."

"Right. So how come nobody on Earth knows about said intergalactic shenanigans?"

"It's a long story best told in space, but you will quickly discover that Earth is a very backward planet, heck Earthens still war against themselves. Idiots."

"But we are Earthlings."

"Well yes and no. We are human, our ancestry is on Earth, but neither of us were born there. Again I will fill you in in space."

"In space?"

"In space." Milk got up and Jason followed suit.

"Tell me one thing."

"OK"

"You say I was a hitman?"

"That's right, the best."

"Was I a nice guy?"

Milk blushed and looked at his canoe-esque feet. "Erm, no not really."

"Oh."

Pray for Rain

Part 1

The Casinos of Haffir

CHAPTER 1

"This has to be your worst idea yet," Rainsford Tsyrker shouted into her comms.

"Worse than Tornin?" Stephen Regrette asked.

"It's OK for you, you're not out here."

The 'out here' she referred to was crawling along the roof of the high speed train between the cities of Rachain and Faloo. It hovered over a rail that was held high above the ground by boosters and she could only be thankful that the entrance hatch was on the roof and not between the train and the rail. She was on the roof of the cargo carriage and though she was close to the loading hatch the wind was making it hard to get anywhere.

She unlocked one of her grip magnets and pushed it forward before locking it again. Then she did the same with the other hand. How had she gotten this job? Grant was in the train somewhere comfortably while Regrette was in high altitude ready to swoop in once the package was secured.

It was her own fault, back on Lancow II, the last job they'd done, she'd poked fun at them for nearly failing because they weren't fit enough to cope. They hadn't said that, but she knew that was why it was her stuck on the roof. Though to be fair, she smiled to herself, either of them would have been sucked under the train by now.

"I'm at the hatch," she said.

"Nicely done," Ben Grant replied.

"How're the cocktails?"

"A little sweet for my liking, but I'm surviving."

"Poor you."

"I know, but taking one for the team."

He sounded smug, she knew he was baiting her and she wouldn't let him.

"How's it look in there?"

"Hard to get too close, but the guards seem bored, but alert."

"OK, well attaching the breaker now. Gulch?"

"I've got the signal," Gulch said from the ship. "Breaking the alarm now."

The breaker made a helpful ping and a little light went from red to green.

"Now for the lock," Gulch said as the light went back to red.

The hatch was big, used for cranes to lower large cargo in and she was going to have to use the slipstream from the train's velocity to fling it open. That would alert the guards and then they had a very small window of opportunity to grab and escape.

"Ahh," said Regrette.

"Ahh, what?" Tsyrker said angrily as she was trying to manoeuvre into position.

"Readings on the long range scan. Moving in fast."

"Company?" Grant asked

"Looks like Durden Raiders."

"Shabbus. Come to steal what we're stealing," Grant swore.

"We're not stealing it," Rainsford reminded him.

"Retrieving didn't have the same ring to it."

"Either way, you need to move," Regrette urged.

"Gulch?"

"There, lock is open."

Rainsford had left one of her grip magnets down by her leg and held onto the other as she pulled a crowbar from her suit and pried open the hatch. She let go of the grip and skidded back before grabbing the other, just far enough away not to get smashed by the hatch as the wind got under and yanked it open. She then threw herself forward, grabbing the closer grip and swung herself inside.

***

As she was doing this Ben Grant was sauntering up to the guards at the door to the cargo carriage. They were bored enough not to notice him until he got nice and close.

"Stop there."

"About that," he said when there was a loud crash from the roof of the cargo carriage.

The two guards pulled guns and as they did so Grant fired an electrode at each. Hitting them in the neck it sent through enough electricity to knock them out.

He ran up and attached a breaker.

"Gulch?"

"Easy this one," Gulch replied and then the breaker beeped and the light went green.

Grant pulled open the door to find Rainsford already in.

"Where?" she shouted over the din of the wind.

He looked around.

"There."

He turned around as she went for the case.

"Trouble coming," he shouted.

Guards were coming down the train. Heavily armed guards.

"Get us out of here," Rainsford shouted.

"Here we come."

Above them their ship, The Wraith, dropped through the sky and thrust forward until it was keeping track of the train. A rope with harnesses fell through the open hatch and they both strapped in.

"Up," Grant commanded as the guards closed in.

The rope retracted and they were pulled through the hatch. As they did so Tsyrker dropped a smoke grenade through.

"Definitely Raiders," Grant said and she looked behind her.

There was one larger ship with three fighters and they were closing fast.

"How'd they know?" she asked.

"Let's worry about that later, shall we? Can you hurry this up a bit?"

"The winch winches as the winch winches," Gulch philosophised.

"Nice," Grant replied.

"Worse than Tornin," Rainsford said to herself.

She swung around and managed to pull her machinegun off of her back as the Raider ships got ever closer.

"You'll make us a target," Grant shouted over the wind.

"You don't think we already are?" she shouted back.

"What? Little old innocent us?"

Rainsford humphed and tried to get aim on one of the fighters. She opened fire just before their ship did and the Durden Raiders split up to avoid the laser fire.

Grant looked down to see guards in the now smoke free cargo carriage aiming up at them. He pulled Tsyrker's pistol and fired down at them. He tried his best not to actually hit them as they swung wildly on the rope.

One of the fighters was coming around behind them and Grant twisted his body so that they swung around on the rope and Rainsford blasted at it. Not that her laser fire would dent the ship's hull, but they couldn't just dangle there. It would look unprofessional and a little lazy.

The ship peeled off as it got blasted by Regrette from The Wraith, but that left the larger ship to try and swoop in.

"4 o'clock," Grant shouted and watched as Regrette re-aimed.

They were finally reaching the ship as the Durden ship tried again to get close enough to snatch them off of the rope. Or at least the case they had taken from the train. A door was opening in the Durden ship as Regrette focussed his firepower on the two fighters. Rainsford could see a man with a long range rifle in the doorway and she sprayed at him with her laser. The man ducked inside and then reappeared, but it was too late, they were finally being taken up into The Wraith.

"We're in, let's go," Grant shouted as they stripped off the harnesses.

The hatch slid shut below them and they ran to the bridge.

"Take the guns," Regrette ordered as they entered.

He was vacating the gunner's chair and taking the helm. Rainsford took the gunner's chair and pulled down the screen. From here she could control all the guns, front, roof and hull, using a joystick on each of the chair arms. There was a second gunner's chair to make the whole thing a lot easier, but she could cope on her own using a three-way split screen.

The ship pulled up and away and she spun the hull guns to blast at the larger Durden ship as it wheeled around to give chase.

"Be ready for more in space," Grant warned.

"Long range scanners aren't picking anything up," Gulch said from the navigator's seat.

Gulch was a Petruthsian, a race of large slug-like creatures who could raise up on their stubby tails to use a number of tentacles.

"Probably keeping back for exactly that reason. Didn't want to tip their hand," Grant said leaning over to look at the scanner.

"Well, game's up now, they'll be moving in."

"Not just them," Regrette said. "InterG ships inbound."

"Great," Grant sighed. "Don't shoot them."

"What am I, a criminal?" Tsyrker shot back.

"They seem to think so," Grant shrugged and walked out of the bridge.

The Wraith shot through the atmosphere and into space. The Durden Raider ships followed with the InterGalactic Police ships behind them. Neither were giving up the chase.

"What's so damned important about this thing?" Regrette said angrily.

"One of the Stones of Tampala," Gulch said. "Very rare, very expensive. Stolen from our client. Very interesting, the Stones, go way back in the mythology of the Kadinar people. You see..."

"Mssh, time and place, Gulch," Regrette said tersely as he jinked the ship left to dodge laser fire. "Coordinates plotted?."

"Right, yes, well, another time perhaps. Plotting now."

"Look forward to it," Regrette ironicalised as he dodged more laser fire from the Durdens. "Can't you do something about them?"

"Surprisingly, they're being evasive," Rainsford sarcasticised.

The arrival of the InterG was to her advantage though. The larger Durden ship had held back as the faster fighters dived in and out trying to cripple The Wraith. With the InterG ships coming up behind them, the Durden ship was forced closer and the fighters were forced to hang back and protect it from front and rear. She got a good shot at the Durden ship as it dodged fire from the InterG.

"Here we are. Durden cruiser on the long range, closing in," Gulch said.

"They won't get involved, just rescue their ships from this mess," Regrette said.

"Agreed," agreed Gulch.

"We still here?" Grant asked from the door.

"Just about to leave," Regrette said spinning left to avoid laser fire. "Coordinates?"

"In," Gulch told him.

"Then let's get out of here," he said and hit the lightspeed boosters.

***

They slowed down in the black void of deep space. Except it wasn't completely void. There was a ship there. Much larger than The Wraith which came and docked in it's hanger.

"Not using the secret hanger?" Grant asked.

"I'm not sticking around," Regrette replied.

"Busy busy."

"I actually think I need a holiday; I only get shot at when I work with you."

"Hey, now, that's because you hide in the shadows normally," Grant said.

"Use, not hide. We've been through this," Regrette chided. "Sort of the point about assassinations, y'know?"

"What about you, Rain?" Grant asked.

"I also don't get shot at. Unless I'm with you," she added as they walked down the ramp.

"What about my money?" Regrette asked.

"I've made contact, you'll have it in a few days."

"Good," Regrette nodded to himself and then turned and walked back up the ramp and into his ship.

It took off as they reached the end of the hanger bay.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Rainsford asked.

"What?"

"What he does."

"You thinking calling it Naval Special Forces is better?"

"Yes," she replied angrily. "I work to protect the UTN and it's people."

"Different packaging, same product," Grant shrugged.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Ben."

She strode off.

"You're mouth moves faster than your brain, Ben," Gulch said.

"Yeah," Grant sighed and ran a hand through his short mop of curls. "Valkswagon."

"I'll get us moving, go and apologise before making contact. I do think we should return the package before it kills us," Gulch said and slithered off.

The Book of Five Worlds

Book I

The Foreshadow of Balance

CHAPTER I

It was a horrible day, not because it was cold, but because Brandon had taken his money again. He still had his secret money so that was OK, but Brandon hadn't left it there. He had been teased through English for answering too many questions and then they had ruined his science experiment and he had been sent out by the teacher. By the time he came home he was miserable and went straight out into the garden. His Dad had some big talk coming up and was still busy in his study and that suited Dylan just fine. The evening was cold; his Dad had taught him that heat goes up from the ground and gets trapped by clouds keeping it warm when the Sun goes down. But there were no clouds this evening and it was still light outside though not for much longer.

He was playing with his plastic knights plus an evil wizard and a big stuffed toy dragon. He had gone through the portal in the shed and the red dragon was a lot bigger than him and his fellow knight and there was no way they were going to beat it unless they could convince the evil wizard to help.

He looked again at the shed; he hated school and studying and those stupid bullies. They thought he was stupid, but he wasn't, he was smart and they didn't like him for that. He wished he really could go through a portal; he wished he could find the magic on Earth and use it to go away. Take him and his Dad somewhere, bring his Mum back.

But she couldn't come back, not even with magic. He didn't really understand it, but his Dad said she had gone to a better place. If he could learn magic, maybe he could take him and his Dad to that better place to be with Mum.

And then the shed door exploded out and a great big grey pig ran out into the garden squealing, steam coming out of its nose, its snout, in great clouds and then it stopped suddenly. It looked left and then right and then straight at Dylan. He wanted to scream, but nothing would come out and then a huge man ran out of the shed.

He wore thick fur instead of a coat and Dylan could only think that he looked dirty. The man stopped just like the pig and looked around. He looked at Dylan and moved towards him and then stopped and looked at the pig which was looking between them. They both looked surprised.

And then Dylan screamed for his Dad.

The pig turned in a circle looking for somewhere to run, and the man moved again toward Dylan, who could now see he had long thick hair and a beard to match with some kind of dirty green trousers on and a metal shirt under the big fur coat thing. And on his back a big two bladed battle axe.

"Dad! Help!"

And then Dylan's Dad ran into the garden with a cricket bat in his hand and stopped as suddenly as the pig and the man had.

"Who are you?" Dad demanded.

"How do we go?" the man asked back in a deep voice.

"Get out of my garden now."

"Your garden?"

"Get out now or I'll use this," he held up the bat, but the man unslung the axe.

"And then I would have to use this. But I don't want to," at the sight of the axe the pig finally made up its mind and ran back to the shed and disappeared inside.

"Now I've lost my dinner," the man said and seemed sad.

"Sorry," said Dylan.

"It wasn't your fault, I should have grabbed it. But where am I?"

"I'm going to call the police now," Dylan's Dad said.

"The what?"

"What's wrong?" Dylan asked the man.

"Dylan, come here," his Dad said. "This man has been drinking."

Dylan understood this. When you drink something called booze you got funny in the head and did stupid things. Sometimes Dad drank booze and got sad about Mum and cried. He didn't like that.

"I haven't had a drop all day," the big man argued. "I wish I had some now for this is greatly vexing."

"Dad has some booze."

"Dylan, stop talking and come here," and Dylan walked past the man, as far away as he could, and Dad relaxed a little when he was next to him. "OK, put the axe away, man."

"Once you put down your... what is this strange weapon you carry?"

"It's a cricket bat, it's for a game," Dylan told him because the man didn't seem dangerous, just confused.

And then the man threw back his head and laughed.

"You threaten me with a bat from a game?" and he laughed again and Dad lowered the bat.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

"From the shed," Dylan answered.

"The shed?" the man asked. "No, I come from the forest town of Capel in Collyshire."

"Right," Dylan's Dad said.

"And where am I now? Is this Shed?"

"No, that's the shed," Dylan said and pointed. The man looked at it and then slowly looked back at them.

"What world am I on?" he asked slowly.

"That's enough," Dad started.

"What world am I on?" the man asked more angrily.

"Earth," Dylan said and the man seemed to go white through the dirt and suntan.

"No."

"Yes."

"The Fifth World."

"What did you say?" Dad asked.

"The Fifth World."

"You better come inside."

"What's going on Dad?"

"What's your name?" he asked the man, but he didn't answer, just looked around. "What's your name?"

"What? Lucas."

"You better come inside, Lucas, we need that booze."

{+}

They sat in the study, it wasn't very big and it was stuffed with books, a desk and two comfy chairs. It seemed even smaller with Lucas in there. He stood and just looked around while Dad poured him a glass of something which he took in his big hands. Everything seemed small compared to Lucas, Dylan thought.

"Sit down, Lucas, let me find something," Dad said and started looking through his books. Lucas took off his axe and squeezed into a chair and Dylan stood next to him.

"Why do you need such a big axe?"

He looked down at Dylan. "I don't if I think about it, I just like it."

"Do you kill people?"

"Sometimes, if needs must."

"Right, here it is," Dylan's Dad said holding a big old book.

"What is this?"

"It's a collection; most people thought the writer was an idiot. He put together all the ancient references to the Five Worlds. Look," he flipped open a few pages and showed them to Lucas while Dylan craned to see.

"This can't be true," Lucas shook his head.

"But it is, isn't it? You come from a different world."

"No, this is some magic cast upon me," Lucas shouted and stood up. Dylan staggered backwards and trod on the remote control switching the TV on to the news.

"AARRRGGGHH!" Lucas cried staring at the box. "What by thunder is that?"

"It's a television," Dylan said.

"How do the people get inside?" he was scared.

"They're not inside, silly, they are somewhere else, we can just see them."

"Like a Seer's Orb?"

"No," Dad said, "it runs on electricity, look," he bent down and picked up the remote and showed Lucas how the channels changed.

"Quickly, man, what is your name?"

"Connor James and this is my son Dylan."

"Connor James, explain quickly what this electrickery is."

"Well, you burn coal to make it and then it powers just about everything we use."

Lucas stood and thought about it.

"Coal comes from the ground?"

"Yes, it's animals that died millions of years ago."

"I must go," Lucas said.

"No, stay," said Dylan.

"I will be back, but this is all too much for me. I am not a clever man."

They followed him through the house as he looked at everything, touching things here and there until they were back at the shed. And then he stopped.

"I don't know what to do. Who can I talk to?"

"I don't understand," Connor James said.

"This is too big for my understanding, yet I understand that this is important. Who will use this information for good? The wrong people would use the portal to change the Balance. What if the Chinerthian Queen finds out? But maybe we can use this to defeat her, but, but I don't know."

"Who is the Chinerthian Queen?" Dylan asked.

"I will be back, I don't know how long, but no longer than a week," Lucas said. "Farewell Connor and Dylan of The Shed," he said and then strode through the shed door and disappeared.

Dylan moved towards it, but his Dad grabbed him.

"No. We don't know what is on the other side, or whether we could get back again."

{+}

The next day at school went past as if in a dream. The bullies tried to take his lunch money, but he didn't even notice them.

"Where's my money, pussy?"

"What?" Dylan asked not really even hearing as he continued to walk around the playground.

"My money. What are you deaf?"

"Hmm, no," kept on walking.

"Hey, come back here!" they ran around in front of him, but he changed direction and kept walking and thinking about Lucas and the shed and, what was it called? The portal.

"He's talking to you," someone shouted, but they gave up chasing him as he wandered. He thought he heard someone say something about being 'crazy'.

That evening he stood in the cold back garden staring at the open shed. The doorway was pitch black even though there was enough light coming from the house to see inside. He tried to remember all the things that he should be able to see, the lawn mower, their bikes, a hose, some gardening tools. But he could see nothing. He wondered what was on the other side really. A forest he thought. Lucas had said he came from a forest town and he'd been chasing a big pig. Would the forest be bright and green or dark and scary? Was it winter there too? Lucas had been wearing big furs so he thought it must be. But what he had been thinking about all day in school was what his Dad had said about five worlds. Not just one, but five.

And now he heard his Dad come out of the house, felt him come and stand next to him and they both stood and stared at the shed.

"Can you believe it?" his Dad asked.

"Can you?" he asked and looked up at his Dad. He wasn't sure he could, but if his Dad could...

"Come inside and let me show you a few things."

They walked inside to the study and his Dad sat down at his desk and lifted Dylan onto his lap. Then he opened the big book he had shown Lucas.

"OK, so throughout all the old mythologies; you know what they are?"

"Like a story?"

"Yes, exactly. Throughout them all there are hints and thoughts and stories about the Five Worlds. From Old Norse to ancient Chinese. They were never very big because even back then people thought it was silly, right?"

"OK."

"But this guy, Dr. Fozz..."

"That's a funny name."

"Yeah, it is; anyway, he studied it for years, all the clues, travelled the world and wrote this book. You see a lot of stories and myths never got written down, but they got passed on verbally."

"Verbally?"

"Verbally means speaking. So what Dr. Fozz found was that there are five worlds all connected by portals."

"Like in our shed."

"Exactly, but as people on Earth became more interested in science, medicine and money, they stopped believing in myths and magic and the portal to Earth closed."

"Why?"

"Because something can't exist if no one believes in it. If someone was walking in the forest and they thought they saw a unicorn in the forest, just somewhere in the trees, they wouldn't believe they saw a unicorn, they would believe they saw a horse and the light or the trees made it look like it had a horn. You see?"

"I think so. But why would there be a portal in our shed?"

"I don't know. But we have to be careful; we can't go through the portal, OK?"

"OK."

"Really."

"OK, OK."

"And we have to be careful; we don't know what might come out. Remember the pig?"

"Yeah, that was scary."

"Right."

"Do you think Lucas will come back?"

"I don't know. I think so, but I didn't really understand what he was talking about before he left, I need to read more now, OK?"

"Yeah."

His Dad put him down and turned him so they were looking into each other's eyes.

"Don't go near the portal. We wait for Lucas, OK?"

"Yes, Dad," he turned to leave. "Can I at least go out and look at it?"

His Dad smiled.

"If I said no, you would sneak out anyway," he got up and found a metal poker from the fireplace that had never been used. "If you do, keep this with you in case another animal comes out. And then shout for me," he smiled and Dylan smiled back.

In the Valley of Elah

CHAPTER ONE

The door creaked open in the same way my secretary does her job, stubbornly half-hearted. It couldn't even be bothered to open all the way and the man who was trying to enter had to give it another push. I wished straightaway that it had been better at keeping closed, or that my secretary was better at telling people I was out to lunch.

"Mr. Harker," the man said holding his hat in his hands.

I held a palm out to the chair in front of my desk and he walked over and sat. I scratched my throat with the back of my fingers.

"What can I do for you, Houngan?"

"So you know who I am," the man said simply.

I did, his name was DeSalle, he was a good twenty years older than me (which tells you nothing at this point, though my secretary might tell you that only makes him thirty) and had skin so dark it had a blue tinge in the dusty electric light. His eyes were dark and the sclera, you know the white part, was more a milky yellow, like cigarette stained wallpaper that used to be fancy. He wore a cheap suit with a crumpled pork pie hat that I admired before answering.

"You're a Houngan, a Voodoo priest. It's DeSalle, isn't it?"

"It is. I'm not local so I'm impressed you know me," he nodded to himself in some form of approval.

"It's kinda my job," I shrugged. It was on the door, I mean what's the point of words if people aren't going to read them?

"It is, and that's why I'm here."

"So you can read."

"What?"

"I like your hat," I said and I did. I like hats.

"You like hats."

I said that.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

He pulled a crumpled newspaper from inside his suit.

"I get the paper," I said, but I often didn't. Have I mentioned my lazy secretary?

"Then you will have seen this," he opened the paper and showed me.

Maybe he had already heard about my secretary.

"Voodoo sacrifice."

"That's what the papers are saying," he said, but not before a tired sigh.

"And you disagree."

"I do."

"And what's it got to do with me?" I asked.

"You're a private detective specialising in the occult," he said and the sign on the door paid for itself.

"So I'm thinking you want me to show it had nothing to do with Voodoo."

"Yes," he nodded earnestly.

I shook my head for effect.

"Can't do. This is murder, this is police business."

"I don't want you to trouble them. I just want someone who knows what they are talking about to point out that this is not a Voodoo sacrifice. We don't do things like that, Mr Harker."

"I know that."

"So you already know that we are being targeted unfairly," he was getting more upset about it so I looked at the article.

"All the hallmarks of a Voodoo sacrifice," I said.

"Which you know we don't do."

"Someone in your congregation might have."

"Then you don't know my congregation."

"I know you are meddling with Satan, Houngan."

"We do good; Voodoo does good, Mr. Harker."

"You're playing with spirits, Houngan, there's only one type that would go along with another religion," I said in my best stern voice.

"I was told you would be like this," he said.

"Celebrity," I said.

"And I was told to come to you anyway because you wouldn't let innocents suffer, because you know the truth of these things," he kneaded his hat.

"Alright," I said with hands up.

He was right. Practitioners of Voodoo didn't go around sacrificing people, at least not anymore, and even a quick read through of the article made the whole thing seem suspicious. It was too much like what you thought a Voodoo sacrifice would look like. It was Voodoo in a way that anyone with a little knowledge (probably from a film) would not look any closer at.

"You think someone is trying to pin this on your temple," I said.

"Yes," he seemed relieved. "Who we are and who people think we are is very different."

"Yes, it's much worse," I frowned.

"We see things very differently," he said.

"Yes, you are wrong, dangerously so, and I am right," I said leaning back in my chair.

"So be it," he said looking down.

"No," I said forcefully. "Not so be it."

"I was told you would be like this," he said as if it was a mantra.

I tossed up between angry and resigned and went for the latter, as I so often did.

"They won't let me get in the way of a murder investigation," I said.

"Not one of us can stop nor change the media, but we can present the real facts anyway. I worry that we will be persecuted, or someone will be prosecuted just because of how the media sees us," he said.

I felt sorry for him. Voodoo was famous in the media, especially films, and none of it was positive. It was all witchcraft and Voodoo dolls and actually they had quite a positive religion. They thought they were doing good for their god, Bondye, a bastardisation of Bon Dieu. The problem being that they were deceived. Being deceived by evil spirits to keep them away from the one true God.

I looked to the print on my wall, Hopper's 'Nighthawks'. I was being asked again to help someone, asked to do His work. Oh, yes, I already knew it was His work, I could feel it. This wasn't Voodoo, this was something else that they wanted people to attribute to the movie version of Voodoo. It was a cover and the question that burned in my gut was, for what?

"Alright. I should be able to see the body, should be able to show that this wasn't Voodoo."

"Oh, thank you," he almost deflated in my chair, you know, like someone had put a pin in him. "You don't think it is Voodoo."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. It has all the hallmarks of Voodoo, the problem here is that it doesn't have any meaning behind it. I don't want to find that meaning, Houngan."

"You won't," he said standing.

"See yourself out, my secretary won't," I said.

"My card," he said putting it on my desk before leaving. He stopped at the door. "Thank you, Harker."

"Get out," I said staring at the ceiling.

He left and seconds later my secretary entered.

"You're surprisingly eager," I said to the ceiling.

"This isn't the Mash is it?"

"I don't think so."

"You think we're on, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?" I asked looking at her.

"The sad resignation on your face."

"You say that with scorn, Adelaide, but you haven't seen the things I have," I said deciding to look at the ceiling again.

She left. I played the game of trying to decide how old she was. At least ten years older than me, but she was in incredible shape and that twisted things. Much better shape than I was in now. Her face was unlined and that made me think younger, but the way she carried herself, talked to people all pointed to older. She could be twenty years older than me. I really didn't know her that well at all, knew little to nothing of her past.

I stared at the ceiling. My chair had a good recline feature, and thinking of it now, Adelaide chose it for me. Apparently she knows me better than I know her.

This wasn't the Mash, of course it wasn't, this was murder. The Mash, if you must know, is what I do most days. Nix that, what I do most days is very little. I like to stare. At things, in things, out of things, it's not much of a hobby, but a man has to have something.

When I'm not staring at things I'm investigating the paranormal. Well, I say 'paranormal' and hell, I say investigating, but as ghosts and the like don't actually exist I don't have to do much investigating. You might be surprised though at how little time I have for my hobby; spirituality and a belief in the occult has risen steadily in the last howevermanyyears despite the progress of science and technology. So I charge people to tell them that their ghost is a banging water pipe or tricks of light and/or sound.

You know of infrasound? It's sound below 20Hz, which is the limit of our hearing. Basically noises below this can cause feelings of fear and dread and some can cause hallucinations. A lot of the time my job is finding out what in the building is causing those sounds.

But then there's the other work I do, the real work. The whole paranormal stuff is just a front, a way to pay the bills. This was definitely the other stuff if it was anything at all. I really hoped it would be nothing; that I could show that it wasn't Voodoo so the police wouldn't bark up the wrong tree and then go home. Maybe stare at something for a while. But I had a feeling in my heart that told me different.

†

I'd managed to get an appointment with the detective leading the case, a Detective Garrett, and she hadn't sounded too enthused at meeting with me. It's tough to get taken seriously when you're a ghost hunter and I can appreciate that. No wonder Adelaide was so grumpy, what would her friends think of her job? Or future boyfriends?

"I don't have time for this," Detective Garret told me.

"It is prime staring time," I nodded and she gave me a quizzical glare as we entered a little office.

"What?"

I sat down without being asked.

"I just need to see the body," I said as I had on the phone.

"So you said. Not happening."

"It's not Voodoo," I said.

"That's not what I'm told."

"It kinda looks like Voodoo," I replied.

"I already know that," she frumped.

"But it isn't."

"Oh no?"

"Nope."

She sighed and stared at the corner where the ceiling met the walls.

"I have work to do," she said.

"As do I."

"Do you?" she looked at me.

"Well, outside of this, no. Not really."

"Then I'm the only one here having their time wasted."

"I'm here to save you wasted time. That and to help the Voodoo community," I said.

"Because this isn't Voodoo despite our experts saying that it is."

"Did they?"

"I just said they did."

She had a point there.

"They said it was definitely Voodoo, did they?"

She thought about it briefly.

"Not definitely, no."

"Here's my issue, the issue of my client. Why would they do it? Why would you do a Voodoo sacrifice and make it so public? There's nothing in Voodoo that says a sacrifice should be public; as long as it's done, it's done. There are plenty of places to do it and never get caught."

She thought about it and I liked her for it. Thinking is becoming overrated in society and that's a problem.

"Criminals aren't smart," she said finally.

"This isn't a criminal activity to them, it's part of their religion."

"Why would anyone else do it? Why make it public and try and frame someone else? Like you say, there're plenty of places to do it secretly."

"I'd need to look at the body, the crime scene photos, the crime scene if I could, to answer that question."

She laughed.

"You really think I'm going to let you go to the crime scene?"

"No," I shrugged. I was used to this.

She looked around the room again. There was still nothing to see so I guessed she was weighing it up. In these instances it's wise to keep your mouth shut. Says a lot about me. I had a quick stare out the window.

"I'm not trying to jump in on your investigation, my client just wants something to say to the media when the inevitable happens."

"Oh yeah?" she turned on me. "And what is that?"

I stood up, this was a standing moment. I paced for effect and to not look like I was challenging her.

"Two things bug me. One is that the media already has this and has so much detail," she grimaced about that. "The second thing is a minor detail in the form of a Star of David."

"What of it?"

"It's got nothing to do with Voodoo. People connect Voodoo with Satanism and so don't think about it."

"So it's done by amateurs, but it still begs the question why."

I didn't answer, but thought about it again. It was really the sole reason that this wasn't the Mash, wasn't just something linked to the occult. There were plenty of murders that got linked to Satanism and other such things, and no doubt Satan got a kick out of them, but they weren't for or by him. The idea that Satan wants human sacrifices is a myth, that's not what he's interested in, that's lowbrow for him.

A little off topic, but I remember a case I was asked to advise on where a Christian had been killed in a supposed satanic ritual. I pointed out that the last thing Satan would want is a Christian to be killed and go to Heaven before Satan had a chance to break their faith.

"It's a sign," I said at last. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want it to be anything more than the Mash.

"A sign?" she asked with eyebrows raised. "For who?"

"That doesn't matter to you, it really doesn't."

"If you know something you'll be obstructing justice by not telling me," she said.

I laughed. I shouldn't have, I didn't mean to, but I did. When it came to justice I often didn't, couldn't, work by the Law's definition.

"All I need is to see the body and then I've done what I've been paid for. I won't get in your way after that."

She looked at me and I looked at her, our eyes pierced each other until she looked away.

"OK. I can't see the harm, but if you're holding out..." she left the threat hanging.

I plucked it up.

"I'm not."

†

There wasn't much of the body left, but there was more than would have been if it had been a Voodoo sacrifice. You see, in Voodoo the sacrifice means something, every action and the way it is performed, means something. This body was roughly hacked up and anything to point it to Voodoo was at the crime scene rather than on the body.

This wasn't a Voodoo sacrifice, this was all about the show, there was one reason and only one reason for this sick murder and that was for it to be found, to be seen.

I sighed when we got back outside.

"So?" she asked in the cold air.

"So it's not Voodoo, there's no precision, no meaning to it. In Voodoo every cut means something, is special, part of the ritual. This was a hack job.

"And like I said, they don't do this kind of thing. At least not officially, so they don't flaunt it like this."

"So someone is trying to frame them."

"No."

"No?"

"Look, it doesn't matter. This is what is going to happen; you and your fellow officers are going to follow the Voodoo route and you're going to find a suspect. Everything is going to fit despite the person strenuously denying it all and then you are going to suddenly find a piece of evidence that ties them in. It'll be a lucky break that closes the case and it'll be forgotten."

"Except that the church..."

"Temple, it's called a Hounfour," I taught.

"The Hounfour will deny it is Voodoo thanks to you."

"And everyone wins. Except whoever you send to prison for it."

"But you have more information."

"No," I said looking at her directly for the first time. "That's it. That's everything."

I turned and walked away. She had done as I had asked and I really didn't have anything more to tell her. We were done, or so I thought. She wouldn't, couldn't believe anything else that I had in my mind; and it had nothing to do with her investigation. It was my investigation now.

I shouldn't have baited her though, shouldn't have told her how I thought it would have gone down; that was foolish because I was tired and annoyed at getting pulled in again. I was frustrated that I couldn't tell her more, frustrated that I couldn't tell anyone outside those that already knew.

The Haunting of Berkeley Square

PROLOGUE - 1840

It is a cold night in London, the fog hugs the streets and wise people stay inside enjoying warm fires and families.

Others find themselves enjoying ale and friendship in any one of the city's many pubs. It is in one of these, in the Holborn area, that Sir Robert Warboys and his two friends sit drinking.

"And do you believe it?" Jeffery Anderson asks him.

"Of course, I don't," Sir Robert replies taking a large swallow of beer. "Merely native myth."

"I know of a story closer to home," Michael Roberts tells them leaning in. "That of Berkeley Square."

"The Thing?" Anderson asks and Roberts nods.

"They say that a man, a Mr. Dupres, lived there and his younger brother had gone mad, perhaps from war, violently mad," Roberts takes a sip.

"Get on with it, man," Warboys tells him.

"Well, he took over charge of his brother and had to lock him in the utmost room. They could not but let him out so they fed him through a hole in the door. Poor chap died in there, some say from lack of eating, others say he tore himself apart over many years. Fingers off, then toes," Roberts shudders at the thought.

"It is entirely plausible," Warboys offers, "but what is the point of this yarn?"

"They say," Anderson joins, "that it has been haunted ever since, perhaps even before. Neighbours tell of strange noises as if things are being dragged along corridors or down stairs, of doors banging and the signal bells ringing though no one lives there."

"Oh, what unadulterated poppycock," snorts Warboys. "You two are young and foolish, hiding behind your mother's skirts rather than adventuring."

"Fine, you go and stay in that upper room, the haunted room, see how brave you are," Anderson challenges angrily.

"My dear boy, I am merely twenty years of age and I need not tell you the things I have seen and done. You think I believe in ghosts? I don't, but I believe in money."

"One hundred guineas," Roberts says for his pride is equally hurt.

"Then I wholeheartedly accept your preposterous harebrained challenge!" Warboys raises his flagon of ale into the air with a grin full of gusto.

They pay for their beers and stumble out into the street. The cold air hits them and Anderson realises quite how drunk he has become and wonders briefly whether this was a good idea after all.

They reach Berkeley Square as the lamps are being lit and find the house. It is tall and adjoined to those each side. The square is quite lovely and upmarket except for this house, this house has seen a much better day and is in good need of a clean and paint. Anderson shudders, not for the cold, but for the truth. Why else would no one want to buy and live in such a luxuriant square in the heart of London?

After knocking a man opens the door. He is a tall, thin man with greyish skin, but black, black hair.

"Are you the owner of this property?" Sir Robert asks. He has sobered up somewhat, but is still drunk enough to be belligerent. Even sober he is quite belligerent, but it has got him so far so young that he sees nothing to change.

"No, sir, I am but the landlord of the residence."

"And no one lives here?"

"No, sir."

"Very well then, I would like to sleep in your upper room for the night."

"That is not a good idea, sir."

"Why? Because it is haunted?" Warboys laughs.

"Because it is not a good idea," the man merely replies.

"Come, let us go, this was a foolish idea," Anderson tries.

"Hush," replies Sir Robert. "Look, my good man, there is no such thing as ghosts and this is your chance to prove it. Maybe sell it on.

"Plus I will give you a nights rent and some pounds to do the place up, it is in a dreadful state."

"Very well, sir, it is you not I that will be sleeping there," the landlord says and steps aside.

They walk into the front room which is cosy enough and the landlord wanders off.

"Very well," Roberts says. "If we are doing this then we will do it right. You will ring the service bell once if you see anything and we will come and see it as well. You will ring it twice if you need help."

"This is nonsense; do not come on the first bell as you might scare the spirit off. But I will ring it if I see something, which I will not because I will be fast asleep."

"Take this with you," the Landlord says re-entering.

"What is this? A pistol? I need not a pistol for sleep, my good man."

"There will be no staying up there tonight nor any night if you take it not."

"Very well," sighs Sir Robert and takes the pistol. "Good night, gentlemen."

With that he and the landlord take to the stairs while Jeffery Anderson and Michael Roberts take chairs.

The landlord joins them and they talk about the area, about how London is growing and the price of properties. Until forty-five minutes past the stroke of twelve when they hear the tinkling of a service bell in the kitchen.

"He sees something," Anderson jumps from his chair.

"Or he is jesting with us," Roberts replies sleepily.

"Come let us look," Anderson says and so the three walk out to the bottom of the stairs.

As they get there the service bell rings twice and then starts ringing continuously. The three men run up the stairs, (the bell falls silent) to the landing and up to the next floor. As they reach the third and top floor a gunshot rings out from the front room and they speed up, slamming the door wide open.

Sitting wedged into the corner of the room sits Sir Robert Warboys, gun in one hand, the bell pull, ripped from the ceiling, in the other. His lips are pulled back in a rictus of terror and eyes popped out so that they dangle upon his cheeks.

His friends run to him and the landlord looks across the room to see what he had fired at. There is merely a bullet lodged in the wall.

Sir Robert Warboys is quite dead.

Dead from terror.

WELCOME TO THE WALKERVERSE

WELCOME TO THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSES

WHAT IS THE LIBRARY?

The Library was built at the centre of the Multiverse and contains histories, biographies, treaties and stories from all the Universes. Particularly those involving the likes of the Righteous, the King Imminent and those that play their parts in this wider story such as the Ten Kingdoms and the Five Worlds.

Read the book sand you will find clues and truths of this greater story within them. But beware that you don't' gain too much knowledge as knowledge is power and power gets you noticed by dark and terrible beings.

THE BOOKS

Each book is written to be read as a single story (or series), but there are overlaps so that the more books you read the more information you build of other stories.

Not only that, but they gradually build a bigger picture, a meta-narrative, a greater tale of good vs evil.

Find them here:

 https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/DangerousWalker

FACEBOOK

Join the fun at:

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or get news, updates and message the author at:

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THE VIDEOS

"Extracts with Dangerous" is a series of (comedic) videos where the author reads extracts from his books as well as poems, songs and how to tie a bowtie.

Have a watch here:

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