TITLE: Survival of the Fittest
AUTHOR: Susan Zell
DISCLAIMER: All characters from "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" series are the property of John Landis, Over the Hill Gang, New Line Television, etc. etc. All I know is that it isn't mine. No profit has been made by this venture.
SUMMARY: A day of hunting becomes a struggle for life and death for the explorers when they are stalked by a pride of sabertooths. The story will be updated weekly.
SPOILERS: The story takes place in the first season. Therefore, Summerlee is still alive and well and much beloved, while Marguerite remains an enigma and a bit of irritant to the rest of the explorers.
RATINGS: PG-13
TYPE: Action Adventure mainly and some minor hurt/comfort; also some 'shipping.
WARNINGS: You know the drill. There are injuries, mild cursing, blood...in other words the usual for me. Also, this story is mostly unbetaed. My apologies in advance for any mistakes.
AUTHOR'S NOTES Though this is mainly an action/adventure story, it is also a Veronica/Ned story as well as a Roxton/Marguerite story. I decided to dabble a bit with both relationships for a change. Though when I have big kitties to play with it's hard to stay focused on kissing. Kitties with sharp knives! rubs hands together gleefully Oh happy day! Look out Roxton!
SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
by Susan Zell
CHAPTER ONE
"A Fresh Sign of Game"
Lord John Roxton slipped through the waist high grass, concentrating on every nuance of the plateau. It moved and spoke and reveled all around him. It took great patience to differentiate what was background noise and what was vital to one's survival. Rising slightly above the tall grassy field he was in, he took stock of what was around him, noting the positions of his two companions as they paralleled him.
Ned Malone, the young American journalist, was on his right, sandy haired and impetuous as hell. The lad had come seeking adventure and had found more than he bargained for on this dinosaur-infested plateau. Malone was not prepared for the savagery of this new world, but there was promise in him. The more seasoned explorers nurtured it daily. The hunter noticed quickly where Malone's attention was presently, and he glanced over to the woman who walked on his left flank.
Veronica Layton emerged from the brush, her bronzed face stern and her long blonde hair blazing in the afternoon sun. She was an example in absolute concentration and stealth. Despite her close proximity, even Roxton had difficulty making out her footfalls. Her parents were part of an earlier expedition that had been stranded here. They were gone, missing over eleven years now, but their young daughter had somehow survived without them and had grown up wise to the ways of this bizarre and mystical land.
They all lived high in the treetops, safe from even the tallest dinosaur. Her parents had built the wondrous treehouse many years before their disappearance. If it hadn't been for Veronica's timely intervention and gracious invitation, the Challenger party would have been a meal for a dinosaur a long time ago.
Theirs had been a small expedition thanks to the balloon that had carried them up into the storming clouds above the South American plateau. But when they had crashed upon this new and dangerous world, they had quickly learned it was like no other. Thankfully they had all lent some contribution to their continued survival. Led by the genius of Professor George Challenger, the visionary that had discovered this lost world, he used his incredible grasp of science to fashion a slice of the modern world in this barbaric jungle; then there was the mysterious and sometimes self centered heiress, Marguerite Krux who had an incredible if not impossible flair for languages that had proven useful on countless occasions. Professor Arthur Summerlee was the voice of reason in a world gone mad; Ned Malone of the International Herald Tribune chronicled their adventures so that someday someone might know what had happened to them if they ever escaped from the plateau; and Roxton's own hunting skills provided them with fresh game and ample protection.
Together the small band had become almost a family as they eked out an existence in the wilds of the Lost World, each one working with the other to keep them alive. After so many long months of living together, small relationships were beginning to form. Like Malone and Veronica.
Malone caught notice of Roxton's bemused gaze and quickly brought his attention back to the hunt instead of the stunning woman with them. Roxton chuckled.
And while Malone and Veronica tentatively danced about each other, Roxton had found his own partner in the ritual of courtship. The mysterious, raven-haired woman had provided full funding for Challenger's expedition with the sole provision that she come along. And Roxton was very glad she did, not just because he found Marguerite incredibly attractive and exciting, but also, despite her conniving and sometimes overly selfish motivations, it was her instinct for self preservation that had often seen them through many a hairy moment. Though to be truthful, he wasn't looking forward to her irritation when they came home without supper again. They had been living off fruits and nuts for too long now. Still, it was best not to put off the inevitable, perhaps with any luck they'd find something palatable on the way home.
A surge of regret welled up within Roxton. He had argued with Marguerite right before this hunting expedition. Poor timing actually since he had hoped to have her accompany him. Instead, she had declared she'd rather remain at the camp with the professors and tolerate their mad experiments and convoluted digressions of evolution than tromp through the hot jungle with the likes of him.
It had been such a stupid argument too. One they had had many times before. As always he had bristled at her apparent lack of concern about their predicament. She seemed more interested in foolish baubles and excessive riches than about the matter of simple survival. He had denied her an opportunity to acquire a new gem and she had reacted hotly to his order, throwing a stinging barbed comment his way. They had been fleeing from cannibals, for heaven's sake. And she had wanted to risk all their lives with her self-centered dawdling.
Even now, his blood burned at the thought of her callousness regarding the safety of the entire party. He had lashed out verbally in front of the group. In truth, he knew he should have confronted her in private, away from the scrutiny of the rest of the explorers, but his outrage had consumed him. These people were under his protection, all of them, including her, though she announced often she had no need of it.
She had not forgiven him obviously for his bluntness in front of everyone. He sighed wearily. There was something about the mysterious Miss Krux that begged him to delve deeper into her mystery. There must be some reason why she acted the way she did. He had been witness often to her small acts of caring and affection when she thought no one was looking. She had a compassionate side. So why this obsession with riches? Why risk lives especially her own to acquire them?
There was no logic that he could foresee, only more questions. And he wasn't likely to attain any answers when he continued to anger her. Her salvation was a task he had undertaken. He was determined to find out for himself what coveted secrets she held away from them all. That he swore as he pulled his damp shirt from his chest.
The small hunting party had traveled farther out than necessary because the hunting had been abominable so far. This particular area was known for its plentiful game though they had yet to find fresh sign of a meal all day, and the setting sun meant that they were running out of time. Any fresh meat would have been a welcome addition to their fare. However, hunting was now at an end and it was best to head back to camp before night came.
The merciless sun was strong and without a wind it made the sweat on their bodies cling to them with no chance of relief. It hadn't rained in weeks and the plateau was on the verge of a drought. Roxton paused a moment to pull his flask and take a long draught of water. His eyes darted across the small savannah they were crossing. They had stood at its border for almost fifteen minutes gauging the hazard of venturing forward over such open ground. Usually they preferred keeping to the jungle where they could avoid being trapped by large predators like the massive carnivore T-rex, but it was either this shortcut or a long draining climb over a range of mountains. They had crossed this small expanse on the journey into the far hunting grounds without incident. Roxton hoped for the same good fortune on the way back.
A gleam of bright light caught his eye on the ground in the dry dust where some large herbivore had tromped through days ago causing a momentary break in the high grass. Crouching down, he pushed the grasses aside and revealed a rough green stone, unruly and uncut, barely noticeable beneath the deposits of sulfide cocooned around it. Maybe it wasn't anything but he pocketed it nonetheless. It might please Marguerite, or at least make her forget her empty belly when they returned empty handed, and forgive him his brash criticizing.
It was then he noticed something else right beside where the stone had lain. The tracks of a Sabertooth.
The animal had been in a walking trot, conserving energy. It had passed by recently. Very recently.
Roxton rose out of his crouch and whistled sharply to the two people just ahead of him. They both turned around. Malone regarded him curiously while Veronica had just sensed something was wrong. Roxton's stance was not at ease. Malone came to the same realization a moment later and hefted his rifle more securely.
"Sabertooth. Fresh track."
Veronica's eyes widened and then quickly narrowed as she took stock of their surroundings, not at all liking the fact that they were too far from the safety of the high jungle branches. They were literally out in the open and quite vulnerable.
"How many?" she asked tersely.
"One set of tracks, possibly female." Roxton shook his head. He knew what it meant and it wasn't good. The reason they hadn't found any game was the fact that a pride of sabertooths were in the area.
"They hunt in packs, right?" Malone inquired, trying to remember all the information he had learned about this place and its prehistoric inhabitants.
"Yes, like your African lion," offered Veronica.
"Which means," Roxton noted, "there's a chance we haven't stumbled across a solitary young male, but more likely a hunting party of females."
"What are they hunting?" Malone dreaded the answer.
"Us," replied Roxton matter-of-factly.
tbc