The Nibiru Effect

Memory 66

The Velociraptor stares at me with unblinking eyes. A red tongue erupts from its tooth-filled maw and lashes at the air before retreating into its deadly dwelling. The beast's powerful muscles undulate beneath greyish-green scales as it impatiently shifts from foot to foot. Its long tail sways left and right like a snake preparing to strike. The razor-sharp claws that adorn its limbs are at rest, yet one quick movement is all it will take to transform them into deadly weapons.

I'm terrified, yet the first thought that pops into my head is: Archeologists were wrong! Velociraptors are not the turkey-sized, feathered dinosaurs they claim. The creators of Jurassic Park came surprisingly close to hitting the proverbial nail on the head with their interpretation of the prehistoric reptiles. The only thing they got wrong was the size. Real-life Velociraptors are roughly my height and measure approximately three metres from snout to tail. Aside from that, they got it all right.

Nothing happens for the longest time. I'm debating whether or not I should try making a run for it when the Velociraptor takes a step forward. I yelp, knowing the end is near. But then something unexpected happens.

A snail slithers between us. The reptile momentarily vanishes, and I become aware this may be my one and only chance to escape. Unfortunately, there's nowhere for me to run. Fortunately, flight is no longer necessary.

The Velociraptor has forgotten all about me. It's now focused on the snail. It hacks away at the giant mollusk with its teeth and claws. I expect a bloody display, but the snail retreats into its shell, escaping its attacker with ease. The dinosaur continues slashing, but its assault proves fruitless. The shell is too solid.

I can't help smiling when the Velociraptor gives up. The snail, unfazed by the reptile's attack, emerges from its shell and continues its journey. But the smile fades from my lips as soon as I tear my gaze from the prehistoric mollusk.

The Velociraptor is no longer alone. My heart hammers in my chest as I perform a quick inventory. Three to the right. Four to the left. Two in front. That's nine deadly dinosaurs against one terrified human. It's hardly a fair fight.

"Run!" yells Kara.

It's good advice, but my legs have turned to jelly. It takes all the strength I have just to remain upright. Then again, it's not like I have anywhere to run. Not to mention the fact that there's no way I can outrun one Velociraptor, let alone nine. I watch in petrified horror as the deadly predators advance. Within seconds, they have me pinned against the cliff.

My odds of survival have now dropped into the negatives, and the Velociraptors know it. They take their time. They slowly approach, bear their teeth threateningly, and stop. They do this over and over again until a mere two metres stands between them and me. It's only a matter of time before I'm torn to shreds.

"NAIL!" yells Kara. At least that's what it sounds like, but she's now so high her voice is muffled.

"WHAT?" I yell back, praying my outburst won't excite the Velociraptors. They bear their teeth and growl but keep their distance. I'm not sure why they behave in such a manner, but I'm grateful for it.

"SNAIL!" Kara's voice floats down from above. At first, I don't understand what she means, but then I remember our original plan. If I can ride a snail up the wall, then maybe—just maybe—I can escape the Velociraptors.

It's a good plan. At least, it would be if not for the fact that every last one of the snails has now begun the long, slow journey up the cliff. Or so I think until I spot one nearing the base of the stone wall.

It's the last snail. It stands less than a dozen metres away. Under normal circumstances, reaching it would be a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, no less than nine hungry dinosaurs stand between me and my goal. And every second I waste hesitating, my one and only means of escape grows more distant.

I have to act. Now.

I take a moment to weigh my options. Making a run for the snail isn't a viable solution as I would be torn to shreds before taking a single step. Fighting is also out of the question. That leaves only one option.

I need to cause a distraction.

How? I don't know, but unless I come up with something soon, my ride to safety will depart without me. I take a quick inventory of my possessions, but it's not until I remember the satchel that hangs from my shoulder that the solution finally dawns on me.

"That's it!" I blurt out before I realize my mistake. Luckily, the Velociraptors seem unaffected by my sudden outburst. I take full advantage of this to reach into the satchel. I feel around until I locate what I'm looking for.

I pull out three lilis.

I raise them high into the air and slowly wave them around. All nine pairs of eyes focus on the small, red fruit.

Perfect.

I lower my hand, pick a fruit at random and chuck it up and over the wall of reptiles. It sails through the air for a moment before vanishing into the jungle.

At first, nothing happens, but then three of the Velociraptors rush off in pursuit of the lili. I breathe a sigh of relief and throw the second fruit. It lures two more reptiles into the jungle. The third distracts another two.

The number of Velociraptors has dropped from nine to two. While another fruit may well distract them, one look at the snail tells me I'm out of time. The prehistoric mollusk has reached the cliff and is now getting ready to scale it. Within seconds, it will be out of reach.

I hesitate for a moment longer before making my move. Doing my best to ignore the two Velociraptors that remain, I dash toward the snail. I work my legs like they've never been worked before. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, giving my muscles the boost they need to outrun the hungry reptiles.

I travel the first half of the distance in less than a second. When nothing bad happens, I allow myself to believe I will make it. Then the cracking of a severed branch emerges from my left. A quick look reveals one of the Velociraptors is speeding alongside me, each step drawing it closer to me. I glance to my right and find the other dinosaur mirroring the first's behaviour. I look ahead. The snail is only a few metres away, but there's no way I will reach it in time to escape my pursuers.

Most people in my situation would keep running and hope for the best, but I'm not most people. Instead of pumping my legs harder, I skid to a stop less than a metre from the snail.

The Velociraptors try to halt their forward momentum but fail miserably. Instead of sinking their teeth into me as they had planned, they slam into each other at full speed and go down in a tangle of limbs and scales.

I don't bother checking to see if they're all right. I rush forward and, using their writhing bodies as a stepping stone, I propel myself into the air. I soar toward the snail and barely manage to grab hold of the upper rim of its shell. Adrenaline must still be pumping through my veins because I easily pull myself up onto the shell.

I'm safe. Or so I think until I hear the unmistakable sound of gnashing teeth. I don't want to look, but I know I have no choice. I peer down just in time to see one of the Velociraptors leap off the ground. The prodigious bound sends it flying high into the air. I barely have time to understand what's about to unfold before it happens.

One second I'mcongratulating myself on a successful escape, and the next I'm yelling inhorror as the dinosaur's jaw snaps shut around my foot.