CHAPTER 316

Smith held the small plastic cylinder up to the sky and squinted down its empty inside like he was spying through a miniature telescope. "Damn," he said, shaking the tube in the air. He rotated the cylinder this way and that and shook it some more. His jaw was already compulsively chomping on a toothpick that wasn't there. "Damn," he said again.

Thorne wagged his head at him, "keep shaking it. Maybe some more will magically appear."

Smith twisted his face at him and stuck the empty tube back in his pocket. Bending down he plucked a thick stalk of grass from the ground and started gnawing at its end. At the base of the tuft of grass he pulled from his eyes paused on an odd shaped depression in the dirt. It appeared to be a footprint, a strange two-toed footprint unlike anything he'd ever seen. In his mind he thought perhaps it was made by some kind of large bird, an ostrich perhaps. He was fairly sure those had two large toes. But why would an ostrich be running around here, he thought.

"You have a problem," Thorne said in regards to the grass chewing.

Smith pulled his eyes away from the footprint, huffed, but did not say anything.

Both men kept their gazes on the jungle around them. They were sharing an uneasiness over what was out beyond the trees. They had heard something unfathomable and still had no real sense of what it was.

Thorne and Smith had maintained no further than a three foot proximity from the sonic deterrent device since the team ventured within the nursery. Most of that time had been spent in silence with each man mulling over their own thoughts about the situation.

Out of the blue Smith spoke. "You scared?"

Thorne let the question hang in the air a while before answering. "No."

Smith allowed that answer to float around a bit and then said, "me neither." He paused a moment. "You freaked the hell out?"

"A little."

"Me too."

Smith continued to chew on the stalk of grass between his teeth. More time went by. "What do you think is out there?"

"Don't know." Thorne pondered it. "Don't wanna find out."

Smith nodded, "amen."

The two men kept a vigilant watch across the jungle foliage around them. Mostly it was quiet and still, except for the general drone of bugs, birds, and other small common creatures that were expected to be dwelling on an island such as the one before them. Not again did they hear the monstrous roars that they had heard before. If it had not been for that tumultuous event they had witnessed earlier both men would have found the island to be peaceful and even comforting. Instead it was unnerving.

"Phew." Smith waved his hand in the heat. His gaze oscillated until it came across the road that Reuben, Sparrow, and Dr. Guitierrez had ventured down. He spotted movement. They were coming back up the road, but there were only two of them to be seen. Dr. Guitierrez was nowhere in sight.

Smith squinted. Sparrow and Reuben were moving in a hurry, and yes, their pistols were drawn.

"Son of a bitch," Smith spit. "Somethin' ain't steady."

"Crap." Thorne saw them as well, and it was clear there was trouble.

Reuben and Sparrow ran off the road and through the grass. When they were still a bit of a ways out Thorne started hollering at them.

"Hey, where's Marty? Where the hell is Dr. Guitierrez?"

Sparrow and Reuben approached them out of breath and appearing as though they had seen ghosts, aliens, or some other supernatural happening.

Thorne spoke again. "Jesus, what happened?"

Reuben was the first to gasp through a sentence. "That ninny hammer got himself masticated by goblin folk!"

Thorne became extraordinarily confused.

Sparrow shook her head with annoyance, breathed heavy, and said, "we have to get out of here now! I'll explain later."

"What about Marty?" Thorne asked.

"He's dead man. They killed his ass."

A look of shock befell Thorne. "Who?"

"Jesus, Thorne! I'll explain later."

Smith was shaking his head and nodding all at the same time. He spit the stalk of grass from his teeth and said, "this don't sound like the time for an inquisition, Thorne. Let's wind up the choppers and get lost."

Reuben snatched Thorne's broad shoulder and drew close to his ear. A wildness was in his eye. "They're likely harvesting Martin's gizzards for broth as we speak!" Reuben released him and set off with the others to prepare the helicopters for takeoff. Thrusting an index finger in the air he shouted, "to the autogyro!"

"Wait wait wait." Thorne threw his hands up. "What about the rest of the team?"

Smith shrugged, "Shit, we already got paid."

Reuben turned his jaw back at Thorne, "if you wanna be stew meat, be my guest. Your haunches are nice and meaty, and I'm certain you'll taste delicious, but we're lifting off as soon as the rotors are turning fast enough!"

Thorne looked at the nursery and rubbed the side of his neck. "Christ."