Temple (18 page)

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Authors: Matthew Reilly

BOOK: Temple
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He was shouting: “Get to the plane! Get to the plane! They're
coming!”
Just then a flare of lightning illuminated the path behind the
running man and Race caught a glimpse of something
bounding along the path behind him.
'Oh, my God…“
It was one of the giant cat-like creatures—just like the one he had
seen stepping out of the temple only minutes earlier.
But the image he had seen on the Humvee's tiny television screen
hadn't done the creature justice at all.
It was absolutely terrifying.
It ran with its head held low and its pointed ears pinned back, its
powerful muscular shoulders driving it forward after its fleeing
human prey.
It moved beautifully, with fluid feline grace—that striking
combination of balance, power and speed common to cats the world
oven
The German commando was running hard but there was no way he was
going to outrun the massive animal behind him. He tried to swerve
as he ran, to dodge in behind some trees next to the path. ,But the
cat was too agile. It looked like a cheetah in full flight—its
powerful legs adjusting perfectly as it ran, copying the movements
of its prey, ducking to the left, veering to the right, keeping its
centre of gravity low, never once losing its footing.
It loomed above the hapless German, got closer and closer, and
then, when it was near enough, the great cat leapt forward
and—
Abruptly, the lightning flash vanished and the path was
plunged into complete darkness.
Darkness.
Silence.
And Race heard a scream.
Then suddenly another flash of lightning lit up the
riverbank, and as he registered the image before him, Race felt his
blood run completely cold.
The immense black cat was standing astride the body of the
commando, its massive head bent over the fallen man's neck area.
Abruptly, the cat jerked its jaws upward and with a sickening
ripping sound, wrenched the dead commando's throat clear from his
body.
And in another glaring flash of lightning, the giant black cat
roared in triumph.
For a whole minute, no-one in the Humvee said anything.
Walter Chambers broke the silence. 'We are in so much
trouble.'
And he was right. For at that moment, at that terrible moment, all
of the other black cats burst out from the foliage near the
riverbank and attacked every living thing in sight.
174 i
The cats stormed the village from every side, catching Diet rich
and his men—gathered foolishly around the monitor in the centre of
the town-completely by surprise.
The cats bounded into the main street like bats out of
hell—-crash-tackling the German commandos where they stood, bowling
them off their feet before they could grab their guns, slamming
them to the ground, biting into their throats.
Race wasn't sure how many of the cats there were. At
first he counted ten, then twelve, then fifteen.
Jesus.
Then suddenly he heard gunfire and he snapped around to see the two
German soldiers Dietrich had sent to raise the western
log-bridgeHasseldorf and Krieger—firing des perately at the
onslaught of charging cats.
The two commandos managed to hit a couple of the fear some
animalsthey pitched wildly forward, crashed down into the
mud—before the other cats simply leapt over their bodies and
overwhelmed the two humans with their numbers.
One cat leapt onto Hasseldorf's back and immediately ripped out his
spine. Another just clamped its massive jaws around Krieger's
throat, breaking his neck with a nauseat ing crrrrunch!
The rest of the village looked like a riot zone, with Ger man
soldiers running in every direction—toward the two Apache
helicopters, toward the huts, toward the river—in a desperate bid
to escape the rampaging cats.
'Get to the choppers!' someone yelled. 'Get to the—'
Just then, Race heard an engine turn over and he spun in
his seat to see the rotor blades of both of the Apache attack
helicopters slowly begin to rotate.
German soldiers ran desperately for the two choppers,
but they were small and skinny each only had room for a
single pilot and a gunner.
The first Apache began to lift off just as a terrified
trooper
leapt up onto its landing strut and yanked open the cockpit door.
But before he could even try to climb inside, one of the cats
bounded up onto the strut after him, shoving him roughly out of the
way before it slithered in through the cockpit door, its long
slashing tail whipping over the side as it did so.
A second later, the interior of the cockpit windows was splattered
with blood and the chopper—hovering ten feet off the ground—went
wild.
It yawed sharply to the right, its rotor blades a speeding
blur of movement, toward the other Apache, just as the six-
barrelled rotary cannon under its nose blasted wildly to
life,
assaulting the entire village with supermachine-gun fire.
Tracer bullets sprayed everywhere.
The windshield of Race's Humvee exploded into a spider-
web of cracks as the storm of bullets slammed into it.
Race ducked away from the impacts instinctively. As he
did so, however, he saw a series of orange impact sparks fldre out
all over the tail section of one of the Hueys moored on the
riverbank nearby.
Then suddenly, like fireworks shooting into the sky on
the fourth of July, two Hellfire missiles shot out from the
flailing Apache's missile pods.
One of the missiles slammed into a nearby stone hut,
blasted it to rubble, while the other just shot straight down the
main street of Vilcafor, heading directly for the massive Antonov
seaplane parked at the riverbank, before— shoom!—it whizzed in
through the open loading ramp of the
plane and disappeared inside its cargo bay.
There was about a second's delay.
And then the giant seaplane exploded. It was a monstrous
explosion, momentous in its force. The Antonov's walls just blew
out in an instant and the whole plane immediately listed
dramatically to the left and began to sink into the river and drift
slowly downstream.
In the meantime, the Apache that was causing all this damage was
still lurching wildly toward its twin. The sec ond helicopter tried
desperately to get out of its way, but it was too late. The rotor
blades of the first Apache struck the rapidly-spinning blades of
the second helicopter and a shrill metal-on-metal shriek filled the
air.
Then suddenly, shockingly, the blades of the first chopper ruptured
the fuel tanks of the second and the two Apaches exploded in a
massive orange fireball that fanned out along the main street of
Vilcafor.
Race turned away from the fiery scene, glanced at Walter Chambers
in the front seat beside him.
'Jesus Christ, Walter,' he said/Did you see that?'
Chambers didn't answer him.
Race frowned. 'Walter? What's the—?'
Purrrrrrr.
Race froze at the sound.
Then he looked at Chambers” face more closely. The bookish
anthropologist's eyes were as wide as saucers and he seemed to be
holding his breath.
He was also looking directly over Race's shoulder.
Slowly—very, very slowly—William Race turned around.
One of the cats was standing at the window.
Right at the window!
Its black head was absolutely massive. It took up the entire
window. The gigantic creature just stared in at Race with narrow
yellowed eyes.
It purred again. A deep, resonating growl.
Purrrrrrr.
Race saw its chest rising and falling, saw its long white fangs
protruding over its lower lip. Then abruptly the animal
snorted and he almost jumped out of his skin and then— whump!wall
of a sudden, the whole Humvee jolted beneath him.
He spun to look forward.
Another cat had just leapt onto the bonnet of the Humvee[
It stood with its muscular forelimbs splayed wide on the
bonnet of the car, its angry yellow eyes staring down at Race
and Chambers, boring into their very souls.
Race touched his throat mike. 'Ah, Van Lewen. You out
there?'
No response.
Screeeeeeeeeech I
The black cat on the bonnet took a slow, ominous step forward, its
claws scraping against the steel hood as it did so. At the same
time, the cat to Race's left nudged the Humvee's door roughly with
its nose, testing it.
Race began tapping his throat mike repeatedly. 'Van
Lewen!'
Van Lewen's voice came in over his earpiece. 'I see you, Professor.
I see you.“
Race looked over and saw the all-terrain vehicle sitting motionless
on the muddy street not far from the Humvee.
'Now would be a good time to do some of that bodyguard stuff,' Race
said.
'.Take it easy, Professor. You're safe while you're inside the
Humvee.”
It was at that precise moment that the black cat on the
bonnet of the Humvee slammed its left forepaw right
through the cracked forward windshield of the vehicle!
Glass showered everywhere as the cat's huge fist-like
claw exploded through the windscreen and came to a jolting halt two
inches away from the brim of Race's Yankees cap.
'Van Lewen!'
'All right! All right! Quickly[ Look under the dashboard!'
Van
Lewen said. “Down near the gas pedal. Look for a black rubber
button on the underside of the steering column!”
Race looked there.
Found it.
'What's it do?'
“Just press it!'
Race pressed the rubber button and the Humvee's engine immediately
roared to life.
It wasn't disabled anymore! Race didn't know why, didn't care. So
long as it was working.
He quickly came back up from under the steering wheel—and found
himself staring into the wide-open jaws of the black cat on the
bonnet!
The cat snarled at him—a wild, angry hiss. It was so close, Race
could feel its hot rancid breath washing all over his face. The big
cat writhed and squirmed as it tried des perately to squeeze in
through the hole it had punched in the windshield and get to the
human flesh inside.
Race leaned back in his seat, away from the frenzied ani mal's
teeth, pushing himself up against the driver's side window—where he
turned and saw the other cat's enor mous jaws come rushing toward
him at frightening speed!
The second cat slammed into the window. The Humvee rocked on its
suspension, bounced under the weight of the cat's stunning impact.
A series of lightning-shaped cracks spontaneously appeared all over
the driver's side window.
But the car's engine was still running, and that was all that
mattered. Jolted into action by the ramming, Race grabbed hold of
the gearstick, crunched the gears, found one-didn't care which
one—and slammed the gas pedal to the floor.
The Humvee shot backwards through the muddy main street of
Vilcafor.
Jesus! He'd found reverse!
The cat on the bonnet seemed oblivious to the Humvee's momentum as
the oversized jeep-like vehicle bounced wildly over the uneven
ground of the village. The demonic animal just yanked its head out
of the windshield and began reaching in through the shattered glass
with its foreclaw, trying to get at Race.
For his part, Race just leaned back as far as he could,
keeping his body clear of the slashing claw, pressing his
foot
down harder on the gas pedal.
The Humvee hit a pothole, shot into the air for a moment, thumped
back down to earth. The cat was still on the bonnet, still
clutching maniacally at Race as the armoured vehicle careered down
the rain-soaked street in reverse, totally out of control.
'Will! Look out!' Lauren yelled.
'What?' Race called.
'Behind us!'
But Race wasn't looking behind them.
He was looking at the vision from Hell that was reaching
in through the forward windshield of the car trying to rip
open his chest.
'Will! Stop! We're heading for the river!'
Race's head snapped up.
Did she just say “river'?
He shot a look at the rear-view mirror and caught a glimpse of the
black river behind them—approaching quickly—caught a glimpse of one
of the American Hueys resting in the shallows, directly in their
path!
Race grappled with the steering wheel, but it was no use.
In his panic to get away from the cat on the bonnet, he'd
long since lost control of the backward-speeding Humvee.
He yanked hard on the wheel, slammed his foot down on
the brakes, but the wheels just locked and in an instant the big
Humvee lost all its traction. It just skidded in the mud,
aquaplaning wildly out of control. And then suddenly, sick eningly,
before Race even knew what was happening, the big vehicle launched
itself off the edge of the bank, out into the air, out over the
river.
The Humvee flew through the air, soaring out over the riverbank,
flying in a high graceful arc. And then it smashed—hard,
tail-first—into the glass bubble of the Huey sitting in the
shallows.
The inertia of the crash was so great that it sent both car and
helicopter floating out into the river proper. It also sent the cat
on the Humvee's bonnet shooting off the hood of the car and
completely over the Huey too! The big cat landed way out in the
middle of the river, hitting the water with a great ungainly
splash.
Within seconds, the crocodile-like caimans were all over
it.
Shrieking wildly, the cat put up a hell of a fight, until finally
it succumbed to their numbers and went under.
What remained near the shore was a bizarre-looking Humvee-Huey
hybrid that sat half-submerged in the water about twenty feet out
from the riverbank.
The whole forward bubble of the Huey had been crushed inwards by
the Humvee, and now the wide jeep-like vehicle stuck out awkwardly
from the chopper's crushed front sec tion. The Huey's rotor housing
and tail section, however, had not been damaged by the impact. Its
two rotor blades just sat high above the whole ghastly contraption,
immobile but intact.
Inside the Humvee, Race tried desperately to stay calm.
Slimy green water lapped against the window to his left while
powerful mini-jets of spray shot in through the network
of cracks in it. Looking out through the window itself was like
looking into one of those aquariums where you can see both above
and below the waterline.
Only this was the aquarium from Hell.
Through the window, Race saw the underbellies of no
less than five gigantic caimans, all of them making a beeline right
for him, their tails slinking back and forth behind them, driving
their bodies toward the Humvee.

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