The Thrones of Eden 3 (Eden) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Rick Jones
flared its collar and pivoted its head slowly, back and forth, like radar, picking up an approaching advancement.
They were coming closer from every point of the compass, from all sides and angles.
The Prisca took refuge by slipping through a gap created by the implosion months ago, the only passage large enough for it to escape. Its bones were soft and pliable as clay, the creature engineered to slip through tight openings that might otherwise seem impossible.
Now they surrounded it and closed in.
The Prisca cried out, sensing panic. It had three hundred sixty degrees of direction but nowhere to go.
The mass was like a donut closing into itself, the hole becoming smaller, the edges closing in toward the centerpiece of attraction, the Prisca, now on its hind legs and pawing at the air, sensing no way out, screaming a deep guttural sound.
The countless ticking of claws against the floor was coming closer, their approach becoming louder, the constant clicking of their mandibles now deafening.
Then they eclipsed the great lizard, the last of its kind, the shapes rolling over it the same way lava rolls over a landscape, the creatures ripping its hide without remorse or contrition, their mandibles picking the animal clean until nothing was left but bones that were nearly polished.
When everything that could be consumed was, when every scrap of meat or morsel was no longer left for the taking, the black mass broke apart and expanded outward the same way concentric circles ripple across the surface of a pond.
The food chain had been altered.
The last Megalania Prisca wasgone.
And a new leader reigned inside the Halls of Eden.
CHAPTER SEVEN
About four hours after sunrise, a squadron of helicopters from the east flew in and landed inside the disembarkation zone just outside of tent city.
Sixty members of the renowned Maroon Berets, a Special Operations force with the Turkish military, exited from six separate helicopters with their duffel bags. Once the area was clear, the choppers lifted and headed west.
From the opening of their tent, John and Alyssa watched the soldiers as they headed for the Big Top of Hillary’s tent.
“Maroon Berets,” Savage commented lightly.
Alyssa sidled up beside him until they were shoulder to shoulder. “Is that a good thing?”
“They’re Special Operations. I assume that’s what Hillary meant when he said the soldiers would be more plentiful. I guess he wasn’t kidding.” He checked out the assault weapons they carried, MP5K’s, powerful pieces of hardware capable of firing off 900 rounds per minute.
Savage was duly impressed. Not only had Hillary prepared well, he obviously had the heavy backing of the Turkish government, as well.
As the elite team banded approximately thirty feet from Hillary’s tent in formation, a single officer, a Mulazim awwal , or First Lieutenant, was greeted by Hillary, who offered his hand in salutation.
After a short exchange they entered the tent, closing the flap behind them.
The Maroon Berets remained in formation with their hands clasped behind the small of their backs, every member highly disciplined as they stood as still as Grecian statues beneath a white sun that was growing hotter by the moment.
Savage looked skyward, winked his eyes against the burning glare, then back to the Special Forces team. As much as he wanted to feel a certain comfort knowing that they would be accompanied by such an elite group of warriors, he couldn’t quite get that feel of complete security either. He had been to Eden and knew that it could be a force of its own, one that was indomitable and untamed.
He swept Alyssa into his embrace, she wrapping her arm around his waist.
“We’ll be fine,” he told her, and then he leaned over and kissed the crown of her head.
#
Abaza Demir sat inside of Hillary’s tent looking at the relic, turning it over in his hands in examination. The Turk was tall, about six-three, with
They were coming closer from every point of the compass, from all sides and angles.
The Prisca took refuge by slipping through a gap created by the implosion months ago, the only passage large enough for it to escape. Its bones were soft and pliable as clay, the creature engineered to slip through tight openings that might otherwise seem impossible.
Now they surrounded it and closed in.
The Prisca cried out, sensing panic. It had three hundred sixty degrees of direction but nowhere to go.
The mass was like a donut closing into itself, the hole becoming smaller, the edges closing in toward the centerpiece of attraction, the Prisca, now on its hind legs and pawing at the air, sensing no way out, screaming a deep guttural sound.
The countless ticking of claws against the floor was coming closer, their approach becoming louder, the constant clicking of their mandibles now deafening.
Then they eclipsed the great lizard, the last of its kind, the shapes rolling over it the same way lava rolls over a landscape, the creatures ripping its hide without remorse or contrition, their mandibles picking the animal clean until nothing was left but bones that were nearly polished.
When everything that could be consumed was, when every scrap of meat or morsel was no longer left for the taking, the black mass broke apart and expanded outward the same way concentric circles ripple across the surface of a pond.
The food chain had been altered.
The last Megalania Prisca wasgone.
And a new leader reigned inside the Halls of Eden.
CHAPTER SEVEN
About four hours after sunrise, a squadron of helicopters from the east flew in and landed inside the disembarkation zone just outside of tent city.
Sixty members of the renowned Maroon Berets, a Special Operations force with the Turkish military, exited from six separate helicopters with their duffel bags. Once the area was clear, the choppers lifted and headed west.
From the opening of their tent, John and Alyssa watched the soldiers as they headed for the Big Top of Hillary’s tent.
“Maroon Berets,” Savage commented lightly.
Alyssa sidled up beside him until they were shoulder to shoulder. “Is that a good thing?”
“They’re Special Operations. I assume that’s what Hillary meant when he said the soldiers would be more plentiful. I guess he wasn’t kidding.” He checked out the assault weapons they carried, MP5K’s, powerful pieces of hardware capable of firing off 900 rounds per minute.
Savage was duly impressed. Not only had Hillary prepared well, he obviously had the heavy backing of the Turkish government, as well.
As the elite team banded approximately thirty feet from Hillary’s tent in formation, a single officer, a Mulazim awwal , or First Lieutenant, was greeted by Hillary, who offered his hand in salutation.
After a short exchange they entered the tent, closing the flap behind them.
The Maroon Berets remained in formation with their hands clasped behind the small of their backs, every member highly disciplined as they stood as still as Grecian statues beneath a white sun that was growing hotter by the moment.
Savage looked skyward, winked his eyes against the burning glare, then back to the Special Forces team. As much as he wanted to feel a certain comfort knowing that they would be accompanied by such an elite group of warriors, he couldn’t quite get that feel of complete security either. He had been to Eden and knew that it could be a force of its own, one that was indomitable and untamed.
He swept Alyssa into his embrace, she wrapping her arm around his waist.
“We’ll be fine,” he told her, and then he leaned over and kissed the crown of her head.
#
Abaza Demir sat inside of Hillary’s tent looking at the relic, turning it over in his hands in examination. The Turk was tall, about six-three, with
Similar Books
In Pursuit of Eliza Cynster
Stephanie Laurens
Turn to Darkness (Offspring 5.6)
Jaime Rush
Object of Desire
William J. Mann
Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch
Lynnette Kent
The Wells Brothers: Luke
Angela Verdenius
Industrial Magic
Kelley Armstrong
The Robin and the Kestrel
Mercedes Lackey
Betrayal Bites (Tales of Sydney Sedrick Book 2)
Mandi Casey
The Tiger's Egg
Jon Berkeley
A Sticky Situation
Kiki Swinson