Age of Monsters John Schneider (digital book reader TXT) 📖

belligerent and somewhat over-ripe Terry – not to mention a scaly, talking parrot-lizard.

At least Terry's black-eye was beginning to fade, and Jonah could feel the anthropoid-male beginning to relax in his presence – just another guy on the road.  Hooray for short-term memory.

Ariel and Terry apparently had barely known the two men who died – they had literally just picked them up on the road right at the onset – just two people running like everybody else.

“But us you decided to rob?” Jonah had asked.

“Well, we hadn't robbed you, yet,” Terry responded.  “We were just checking you out.”

As far as Terry was concerned, that resolved it.  Jonah decided to let it go.

They were taking the long route to the coast – despite cajoling by Naomi, Ariel kept them as high in the mountains as she could.

“The beasts,” Ariel told her, “they don't like the mountains.  They stick to the valleys.”  She tossed a finger back the direction they'd come.  “I mean, they'll wander the hills around here, so long as there's lots of basins and flatlands – but they stay clear of the peaks.”

Terry nodded.  “Everybody that didn't figure that out early, is gone.  We were just down looking for supplies.”

Jonah thought about it, and it actually made sense – the Mesozoic Era was thick with high concentrations of oxygen.  It stood to reason creatures adapted to that environment would shun the thin air up in the mountains – sticking to sea-level and valleys – where most major cities were built.

After being force-fed a lot of Terry's bullshit in the last several days, that one was worth knowing.

Terry and Ariel had survived on the road right from the beginning – and as they'd traveled with a CB, and had passed through a number of different radio ranges, they were able to fill in a few gaps.

Jonah and Naomi had known the cities had been hit, but they hadn't appreciated the sheer extent of it all.

But according to Ariel and Terry, the real war was lost in the towns.

“It was the little guys,” he said, “coming right of the woods.”

“Little like a T. rex?” Jonah said.

Terry nodded.  “Everything going on in the cities – the 'mega-beasts', was what the news started calling them, just before all the stations went out – but it sure kept the soldier-boys busy.  I guess, when you got skyscrapers getting knocked down, a regular old T. rex just ain't getting their attention.

“But that's where they gutted us,” he said.  “The towns.  Where everybody ran to.  Where everybody lived.”

The 'bedroom communities', Jonah thought.  Shock-and-awe in the cities – while meanwhile, they plundered the nest.

Like raptors.

Funny how instinctive behavior mimicked intelligence.  And vice-versa.

There was a bit of a squiggly line there sometimes.

“We got out of Portland,” Ariel said, “after the giants hit, but when we drove out into the country, they just came right out of the woods.”

Ariel paused, and Jonah could see the too-recent memory in her eyes.

“It was almost worse in the towns,” she said.  “You could see it.  It was more... personal.”

Jonah understood.  It was the difference between being crushed in an avalanche and being torn limb-from-limb – or bitten in half.

“We were in the country,” he said.  “We escaped into the mountains.”

“That's why you're alive,” Terry said.  “That's why we're still alive.”

Outside, it was beginning to get dark.  Ariel pulled over to the roadside, finding a secluded spot between the trees.

As they did so, the little lizard – 'Otto' – started squawking.

“Terry, will you feed him?”  Ariel called back from the front.

Grumbling, Terry peeled the tin off a can of cat-food and slipped it into the cage.  The little lizard started pecking at it like a chicken.

“Why do you call it 'Otto'?” Jonah asked.

Terry shrugged.  “It's what he calls himself.”  He tapped the cage.  “Here, you little rat, tell him your name.”

And in a clear, human voice – as polished as any ventriloquist – the little creature answered back, “My name is Otto.”

Terry tapped the cage again.  “Otto want a cracker?”

And in an uncanny mimicry, the lizard repeated back in Terry's own voice, “Otto want a cracker?”

Jonah watched the little lizard as it cocked its head expectantly.  It had repeated the words exactly, in the same questioning tone – but with clear understanding that what it had just said meant 'give me food'.

Terry tossed a couple of saltines into the cage.  Otto pushed aside the already-empty tin of cat-food and gobbled the crackers down.

Jonah wondered who had named him – whose voice he had spoken in.

“You think he was made in a lab, or something?” Terry asked.

Jonah didn't answer, but yes, he did.

Ariel had shut off the engine and now she climbed into the back, pushing Terry aside, and started fussing over the little lizard in its cage.

She made kissy-sounds as she fed it more crackers.

Otto repeated the kissy smacks back, this time in Ariel's voice, its head cocked in that cuckoo-bird stare.

That, Jonah decided, was maybe the creepiest thing he had ever seen.

They were making camp for the night – he slid the side-door open, stretching his legs and stepping out onto the road.  Once the daylight faded, they would build a fire.

Jonah wasn't sure if the fire was smart or stupid – it was possible firelight at night could attract unwanted attention.  On the other hand, if the caveman in him wanted a fire, that was old survival instinct at work.  Ignore that at your peril.

Terry joined him, as he began to gather wood.

“So,” he said, “that Naomi-chick.  What's the deal with you two?  Is she yours?”

Jonah shook his head. “She's married.”

“So,” Terry said, for clarification, “she's not yours?  She's available?”

Jonah gave him a look.  “No, she's not...” he stopped,