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perished in the fire.

Then the wind on the water began to clear the smoke, and Trix caught their scent on the air.

She saw them, a mile upstream, already crossed over to the opposite side of the river.

The big rogue turned his head in her direction.

T. rex' visual acuity was comparable to modern raptors, and even from the distance, Trix could see the green glow in her mate's eyes.

The same glow was mirrored in the blinking stares of Josie and all the pussycats flocked around him.

That had been three weeks ago.

At first, Trix had followed him.

The rogue had been moving southeast at a nearly straight trajectory.

But as the infection took hold, further effects became evident as Trix herself began to feel him, as if the sheer energy in his system were cast off like an ambient scent.

Soon after that, Trix herself began to perceive the beacon that drew him.

There was no precise physical sensation, but it was rather hypnotizing, like staring at a soothing light.

It seemed to touch the same part of the brain as that prickly tickle that rankled her sinuses whenever one of those little talking lizards was about – except this was almost exactly the opposite of that nasty, smelling-salts-acid-static she got from those scurrying little rats – that foul, psychic-stench that prompted an irresistible impulse to stomp the little bastards flat.

This was different.

It was... nice.

Like music taming the savage beast, without actual music, just a sense of general wellbeing.  A glow.

Trix seemed to sense it a tick before the others, perhaps due to her pregnancy, but now they were all following the beacon together.

Rather than trailing in the hazardous footsteps of the rogue and their former sisters, Trix took her own flock up into the hills, running a parallel track through the highlands.

Tyrannosaurs acted on instincts.  Trix gave no more thought to why she trekked the cold and inhospitable, thin-aired mountains than when acting on the impulses brought by hunger or sleep – she followed the beacon for no greater reason than a plant leans towards light.

But there was also something strangely familiar – a presence she must have been aware of subliminally all along, but now had grown brighter.

Trix had no idea what any of it meant, or why she was drawn.  She did, however, sense that others were converging on the same site.

Somewhere in the canyons below, the rogue sensed it as well.

Trix recognized his territorial roar, announcing his authority.

Once that claim had echoed across an entire valley.

Now, his voice was the thundering gale of a titan – the echoes might have reverberated halfway across the continent.

But this time, somewhere off in the distance, Trix caught the faint echo of an answering roar.

A challenge?

Was this beacon marching them into a war?

Trix felt the stirrings of an old rivalry – as subliminal as the shine itself, instinctive as a mating urge – or a predator/prey relationship.

The canyons below again echoed with the rogue's commanding bellow.

Again, there was a distant response.

In Trix' memory, few rivals had dared challenge the rogue before the Food of the Gods – and none successfully.

The idea that any creature might try it now was an affront.

Being that T. rex were prideful beasts, Trix found her own ire sparked that any might dare.

Somewhere ahead was their star, and if they must battle to stand in its light, so be it.

Trix surveyed the terrain ahead.  They were near, perhaps not more than three peaks over.

The big female's jaws parted and she let the mountains echo with a challenging roar of her own.  Beside her, Velma and her two daughters joined in, until their bellows bounced off the peaks for miles around.

Trix could sense a tempest brewing.

She didn't yet know what lay ahead, but it wouldn't be much longer now.

Chapter 16

The cargo chopper was the heaviest thing Jonah had ever flown, and he could feel the difference in every tug of wind, every shift of momentum.  It was everything he hated about flying.

He wasn't a fan of the parallel rear rotors either.

“This is like flying with a trailer,” he complained.

Naomi clearly wasn't happy about it either, having said so emphatically and repeatedly, as they buzzed the mountain tops, as high and fast as Jonah could manage.

“It's a gift,” she remarked, as Jonah struggled with the heavy-duty aircraft.  “Some have it.  Some don't.”

Jonah glanced sideways.  He was perfectly willing to acknowledge he was no fighter-pilot, but really wished she wouldn't say things like that at times like this.

“Maybe we can find a truck when we land,” she suggested.  “Or would that be too scary?”

Jonah bit back his reply as he took them up and over the highest peak, giving them their first look at the valley beyond.

The river cut through the mountain, and here it fed a modest lake and irrigated farmlands spread across the hillsides and down onto the valley floor.

Further below was a small town, remarkably overgrown, after only a single season of unmowed lawns, perhaps a few isolated fires – and, of course, certain parts that had been stomped flat.

It was, however, flat ground.  According to Jonah's map, this little berg had a number of private runways, along with a small commercial airport, originally for crop-dusters, but adapted and expanded to accommodate full-size commercial aircraft.  It also lay not five miles from a wrecked National Guard site.

Corporal Meyers had told them his base was this direction.

The camp would not, however, be on the valley floor.  You simply couldn't have permanent structures on the lowlands.  They would have to look to the high-ground.

But as they surveyed the peaks, there was nothing obvious.  The heavily forested terrain was its own camouflage.

“Well,” Naomi said.  “This is the area.”

She grabbed up the radio.

“Hello? Anyone out there?”

There was a scratch of static and an irritated-sounding whine, before a voice suddenly barked back over the air.

“This is Major Justin Travis.  Who the hell is this?”

“Hi there, Major Travis, my name's Naomi.  Your convoy got taken out by a sickle-claw raid and a pack of T. rex.  We

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