And Let Loose the Beasts of Prey

Description

Conners burst from the front door and ran to the patrol car, plopping down sideways in the driver’s seat, calling in what they had learned from Sheila, which was bad. Very, very bad. It was still snowing; there was now about a foot of the stuff on the ground. Nor did the storm show any signs of relenting. Meanwhile, through a gap in the clouds, the moon shone bright and silvery … even as the wind rose and fell and swirled about his boots, which were resting outside the car, and a shadow passed over him stealthily. A moment later a low-pitched growl came from the trees beyond the patio, catching the wind and reaching Conners’ ears instantly. He looked up, cocking his head, and listened intently—but could hear nothing over the howling of the storm. Large, intricate snowflakes blew into the car as he did so, sticking to his face like lint. The snarl came again as he peered into the dark between trees. Okay, that’s it, he thought, and reached for the shotgun between the seats. He hung up the mic and stood, pumping the weapon. I don’t know what you are or where you’re from, but you’ve got about five seconds to live, my friend. 4 … He walked toward the growls slowly, the air crisp and cold against his cheeks, his breath billowing about him, the steel of the trigger icy against his finger. Welcome to the twentieth century, killer. Now you’re going to see what real killing is about. 3 … 2 … 1 … There was a sudden banging sound and he whipped around, but froze before firing, realizing the reports had all been true, that dinosaurs somehow walked the earth again, and that a velociraptor had leapt atop the patrol car, denting its roof, and was even now glaring at him with its owl-like, forward-facing eyes.