Ed looked grave. In addition to his background in Paleovertebrates, he was a herpetologist, with a specialty in prehistoric reptiles and amphibians, not dinosaurs per se, but the links between dinosaurs and modern day reptiles and amphibians. It had been Ed that had discovered and named Titanaboa, a prehistoric anaconda that had grown to a length of sixty feet in the South American jungle. Steinhardt had also worked with a team of scientists during the Clickers/Dark Ones invasion a few years ago and held a keen interest in the physiology of the Dark Ones. Jennifer was adamant that if he had the capability, he’d study one in a controlled environment.
“The Dark Ones,” he said, “possess a cunning that is unprecedented in my field. Reptiles and amphibians are, by nature, solitary creatures. Their intelligence rating is the most primitive of all the land-dwelling vertebrates. Komodo Dragons are an exception to this rule; evidence suggests they not only hunt in packs, but they communicate with each other in a pack mentality. Pack leader instructing the lesser members of his pack in the hunt, so to speak. They’ve also been known to intentionally startle pregnant deer to induce miscarriage, which they then proceed to eat. ”
Jennifer nodded. “I’ve read about the reports. And the article in National Geographic.”
“The Dark Ones are human-like in their reasoning capability,” Dr. Steinhardt continued. “We’re still learning about them. The few remains we were able to preserve from the DC event has yielded much information. Their physiology is unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”
“You can say that again,” Jennifer muttered. “And there’s that new Clicker to think about, as well—the black one that killed the vegetation topside. Is it a mutant? A one-off genetic freak? Or are there more of them?”
She cast a backward glance where they’d come. So far so good; there were still no sounds of pursuit. Apparently noticing Jennifer’s nervousness, Keoni gestured down the corridor. “We should get moving.” He set off down the tunnel. The others resumed behind him. Jennifer watched the flashlight beam grow dimmer.
“Where are we going?” Wade asked.
“We’re going to the High Priest’s quarters,” Keoni answered. “These tunnels empty out in the cellars of half a dozen homes in the village, all belonging to tribal elders. We’ll talk to Josel Buada, the High Priest. Besides, I’m sure the tribal chiefs are in the process of getting an evacuation plan in action.”
“Evacuation plan?” Susan asked.
Keoni shrugged. “Yeah, they told me once that they’ve got an emergency evacuation plan. I don’t know what that’s all about. I always assumed it was due to the volcano.”
“Volcano?” Jennifer asked. “What volcano?”
Not pausing in his stride, Keoni turned around and grinned. “The god that sleeps beneath Mount Rigiri? That’s their volcano. It’s blown a few puffs of smoke in the last few hundred years, and some scientists think it last blew its top a few million years ago. Might be time for another big blow up, don’t you think?” He faced forward again.
Dr. Steinhardt nodded. He smoothed his long gray hair back from his forehead. “You might have a point. I’ve heard there’s been a lot of seismic activity in this part of the South Pacific lately. That would indicate something’s brewing below.”
“Maybe their god is waking up, after all,” Jennifer mused.
“Maybe the Dark Ones are their harbingers,” Wade added. “They show up, attracted by the warming waters or the seismic activity—and that signals another eruption.”
Susan went pale. “My God…”
Jennifer noticed Dr. Ehart’s expression. “What?”
“The natives believe they’re guardians to their god,” Susan reiterated. “The god sleeps beneath the island, has lain there since the dawn of time.”
“Yeah, and?” Wade looked impatient.
“The carvings on the wall of Rigiri suggest depictions of the Dark Ones,” Susan continued. “And the way the natives were ambivalent to us…their cautions and strange behavior…” She looked at Dr. Steinhardt. “They really were warning us.”
Ed looked like he might be about to get sick.
Jennifer put the connection together. “The natives worship the Dark Ones?”
“No.” Susan regarded them all. “They do the Dark Ones’ bidding.”
Jennifer blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“The Dark Ones worship the god that sleeps beneath the island,” Susan said, her voice heavy with dread. “Those carvings on the wall…some depict the Dark Ones…others depict…something else…a squid-headed monstrosity.”