A medical marked freighter swoons its way through the Arran ice cloud toward Gaia. Burning through the atmosphere, the ship drunkenly skirts the canopy, before being swallowed by the foliage in an explosion of leaves and squawks.
In some schools of flight they call it a landing – though none aboard the Crichton could say they had experienced that.
A motley crew of nine Cryer employees stagger out into the untamed jungles of gaia. Everyone, save the butler, are wearing pith helmets and olive coloured fatigues, binoculars hang from their necks
Jonathan Goode stands beside his black and white shadow Wilkins. An oversized calibre ballistic rifle weighs upon both shoulders, and of course a cigar is clenched between his teeth as always.
To the rear stands rex – bearing the bulk of the parties gear – coolers and chairs hang from the sinewy hulk like a misused hat-stand. He shambles after the crew as they venture into the humid vibrancy of untamed gaia.
“
You sure this is legit Johnny ? I'm pretty sure this is like – encroachment or something...”
“
Of ~course~ it's legit – it's for science isn't it?!”
“
Well yeah but...”
“
Look at the butler guy – is he sweating? No, 'coz he knows what i'm about Em: relax”
Giant, luridly coloured flowers stand tall over high grasses amidst their less densely wooded path. Flanking it distantly, monstrous trunks tower above the greenery – strewn with vines and creepers, their long shadows in dark contrast to the scorching sunlight.
The group coos and gasps as exotic birds with fluorescent plumage dart above, bulbous, leathery plants snap shut as they pass. Occasional bursts of feathers are seen as some are caught in between their spiny, closing prisons.
The world around the Cryers is alive with sound: chirrups, squawks, hoots and growls resound around the vast forest. In their excitement, none of them see Helena as she lags behind and falls to the ground with a spine in her neck.
* *
Wilkins and Steele had been carving through the knotted greenery for the past two hours. Though the whole party are soaked and breathing heavily, the machete wielders are legitimately so.
“Wait ... where's Johnny?” asks Emma.
Johnny disappeared an hour ago – whilst the others had been arguing over who would be first to get a picture with Giant Brachiosaur.
“He came with us?” Johnny owes Rex money.
“Maybe he went back to the ship...”
“Nah he's dead – forget about him. Can't we stop for a bit? I'm hungry”
“Alright lets setup here – Rex – the table if you please?”
Within moments Rex drops his packages and assembles an array of unfolding outdoor furniture. Em' lays a tablecloth with a flourish, food is unpacked and picnicking ensues.
* * *
It is dusk, The sun has ebbed to a golden dappling upon the shifting forest landscape. Goode is savouring the last of the bacon sandwiches. His chewing stops as his face drops, he signals silently To Em' - seated opposite.
It is too late, Em doesn't see the shadow reveal itself in the lamplight – its armoured hide flash from the undergrowth, talons outstretched.
Em' screams horribly as the talons sink in, she disappears into the jungle as the creature rolls with her in a moving, chaotic, grappling sprawl.
Mandy and Rex cry out in horror, cups and plates tumble in a moment of surprise. The picnic is ruined.
Other sets of reptilian eyes shine yellow in the struggling light. A deafening blast rings out causing everyone to drop with hands to their ears.
What was the charging form of a Raptor explodes into a meaty, twitching stump below a red mist. Everyone in the vicinity is splashed with the gory pieces and lizard blood.
The bushes rustle as the remaining lizards flee into cover at the noise.
“
Time to make like a tree” Steeles announcement is punctuated by the high pitched noise of his readied Tachyon rifle, the bright blue light of its core stark in the growing darkness. He points with a large Bowie-knife back to their path.
Abandoning their makeshift diner the group hurry off back to the ship.
***
As often happens in perilous chases, the group lose sense of formation and become a stumbling, straggly line – their flight impaired by roots, fallen debris – and Raptors. Betty can't keep up, she becomes disorientated in the chaos. The others shout her name but the jungle makes it hard to discern sound direction.
The reptiles make themselves known . One giant yellow eye bobs parallel to the cryers path, Rex gives a startled alert. In unison Steele and Goode turn and fire, another deafening boom resounds. Their victim lets out a terrible screech as it dies: its hind-leg and tail, minced into a bloody spray.
Steel does not see the other raptor until it is upon him, forcing him to the ground standing astride the downed combatant. Desperately he thrusts the rifle between the beast and himself. Claws narrowly miss as the creature flails and reaches – its head snapping in a frenzy.
Goode aims but resists fire, knowing his shot might obliterate both the monster and his colleague.
Rex and Mandy are screaming, again. Steele wrestles with the creature, everyone sees the flash of his blade as he raises his hand and suddenly pierces the head of the giant lizard. The Raptor sees only each silvered letter of the word “S-T-E-E-L-E” as the blade slides through its eye and into its brain. In a thrashing collapse the beast falls, blood spurts from its skull.
Clyde speaks as he rises, adjusting his pith helmet “Well, what are you looking at? Lets move!”
The Cryers resume their hasty retreat.
* * * *
Rex keeps stumbling and mumbling something about the dark, he lights up a flare – the startled warnings of the others come too late as the bright red light blooms, bathing everything in a bright, pink glow.
Everyone pauses to look up at what the flare has revealed: Identified by torn pieces of clothing clinging wetly to severed limbs, the remains of a Gaian scouting party hang limply from a skeletal Everwood. Surrounding the base of the tree are the remains of what could easily be ten large, scaly, beclawed reptiles.
In the red light it is hard to discern that blood paints the wood for twenty feet in all directions.
A shared moment of terrified trepidation links the group as the giant head of a Terrorsaurus swings into view – snapping up the twisted torso of a Gaian corpse from the branches. It huge iris visibly contracts in the light as it notices the trembling Rex.
With a toss of its head the massive Lizard swallows the body and darts forward with nauseating speed, jaws agape, toward the Cryer meat-head.
It doesn't see John Goode step into its path as another deafening roar booms out – the elephant gun hurls its round upward into the roof if the beasts mouth. Blood spumes out and falls in thick dollops as the creature roars in agony, crashing into the massive trunk in its frustrated rage.
Steele draws its attention as Tachyon fire rips gobbets from the bumpy hide. Goode clears the giant casing and loads another, fist sized round.
Both Rex and Mandy are crying. Rex has soiled himself.
The monster charges at Steele, his fire is marked by the blood spraying backward from its gigantic head. Repeated tearing flashes of white light break the red, but still the beast runs on. Steele hurls himself aside into a roll and rises running. The creature follows, off-balance: adjusting its path clumsily. Goode stands ready as the giant snout lowers for the Terrorsaurs final attack, his cannon raised level with its tiny eye.
“
Die Damn you!” he mouths as the huge firearm rocks back with incredible recoil, muzzle flash shoots from the barrel in fiery sparks. Less than a heartbeat later the final boom is heard over the echo of the monsters screeching roar. The 'bullet' pulverizes the creatures eye, tearing straight through the inside of its skull – shattering and liquifying the contents, before exiting the other side in an irregular explosion of reptile brain matter and cranium.
A tremor is felt as momentum sends the massive body crashing to the ground.
Goode cheers, discarding his empty gun "And the crowd goes crazzzzyyy! *mimics crowd yelling* "I wonder how you taste..."
Mandy slaps Rex into motion: he takes a picture of Steele and Goode who stand with one foot each on the titanic creature, they nod to one another. It is a classy memento.
* * * * *
After another hour we rejoin our intrepid explorers, staggering back through the jungle, breathing heavily, beset by Raptors. Shots ring out regularly, flares of light mark the parties path through the gauntlet.
As they reach the freighter and the doors slowly open Raptors swarm at the 'landing' site - Goode and Steel seem to decimate the jungle with weapons fire. They buy Mandy her time, the clicks and clunks of initialisation precede the hum of power as illuminated inlays spring to life in series.
Impossibly, emerging from the tattered, weeping forest – walks Wilkins. The straight-backed butler has a body over one shoulder, is covered from head to toe in red ichor, and wields two large, gory blades.
“
Miss Emma sir” he answers to Goodes incredulous look as he carries the wounded woman across the vehicles threshold.
Moments later, screaming that he is human, Johnny staggers from the foliage. He is uninjured save for a shallow vertical cut - visible past his open, button-less shirt. He hurries aboard the Crichton.
Steele produces a grenade, and looks to Goodes face, the logistics man meets his gaze and nods in confirmation. He spits out the stub of his cigar and pulls the pin with his teeth. Goode lays down a lateral field of fire as Steele hurls the explosive toward the incoming wave of unfriendly predators.
The pair turn in unison as the grenade flies through the air, they dive through the closing freighter doors. The grenade detonates, searing flames shoot out from a perfect sphere of destruction, eager to consume anything in their path.
The door closes as the boom sounds, the craft rocks uneasily as the blast radiates out. The engines wake into burning life, the craft ploughs through snapping branches and greenery, before gaining altitude: leaving behind the dangerous natives and the bodies of their dead friends - victims of a terrible, terrible picnic.
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