As if in answer, just as the door was about to close a big, blunt head suddenly thrust itself into the closing gap between door and jamb.
Deinonychus.
Shit.
The shock made me jump backwards. The door stopped moving. I could hear its breath panting out through red-rimmed nostrils. One cold predator eye fixed on me and, displaying dismaying intelligence, the head wriggled and pushed, seeking to force the door open again. A large, three-fingered clawed hand appeared, scrabbling at the doorframe.
We consistently underestimate the intelligence of everything that isn’t human. Either accidentally, or because maybe it had watched me, this thing had worked out how to get through the door. There was no point in me vainly slapping the switch. The sensors wouldn’t allow the door to close. Five minutes ago, I’d been grateful for that. And I couldn’t override the safety protocols. This pod wasn’t programmed with my authorisation.
It wasn’t well enough coordinated to get head and hands working together – yet. My best course of action was to persuade it to remove its head and somehow get that door closed.
I flung open the locker doors, frantically looking for something – anything at all – that I could use as a weapon.
The first locker was empty. The second contained only empty boxes and an old blanket. Oh God, there must be something …
The third, however … the third contained the fire extinguisher. I could tell by its weight that it was empty, but never mind. I’d once belted Jack the Ripper with one of these and it hadn’t done him any good at all. I couldn’t see the fire axe, but this would do.
I heaved it up and turned to the door. Standing to one side so it couldn’t see me, I clubbed its hand. You couldn’t call it a foot. Or even a forelimb. It definitely looked like, and was being used as, a hand.
Concentrate, Maxwell.
I clubbed again and then lowered the extinguisher and caught its snout on the upswing. Unfortunately, far from this deterring it in any way, it uttered a shriek of pain and redoubled its efforts to get the door open.
There was no help for it. Standing at an angle, I just couldn’t do enough damage. I moved in front of the door.
It had tilted its head to one side, furiously wriggling and twisting, trying to widen the gap. A deep, low, bubbling snarl awoke age-old instincts and filled me with the same overwhelming need to scuttle for cover that my own mammalian ancestors would have had. It stood as tall as me and we were eye to eye. It could see me. I’d been identified as its prey and like a shark it wouldn’t go away until it had me.
I changed the angle of the extinguisher and instead of swinging at its snout, I jabbed instead.
It really didn’t like that, roaring angrily. Maybe it had some sort of scent receptors in its nose that rendered it extra sensitive. I don’t know. I just knew I had to finish this soon. I jabbed repeatedly, sweat running down my face. I was screaming words in time with the blows.
‘Get. Out. Of. My. Bloody. Pod. You…’
Even over the rank stench of Ronan’s pod, I could smell the rotting meat on its breath. See its blood-caked snout and the wicked, cruel intelligence in its eyes. I’ve often wondered why, even after hundreds of millions of years on this earth, dinosaurs never made the great evolutionary leap. Language, culture, tools, and all the rest of it.
The answer to that, of course, was that they already had everything they needed not just to survive, but to triumph and if the comet hadn’t ended everything, they’d be here still. Unchanged. Like sharks. And crocodiles. They didn’t need to evolve any further. They already had it all.
In the end, I really don’t think it was anything I did that shifted it. I think it could hear the other members of the pack feasting on Clive Ronan – when had he stopped screaming? – and worked out it was getting nothing but a noseful of grief here, with nothing to show for it.
Not without some difficulty, it pulled its head out of the door and with one leap re-joined the others. They snapped and snarled at the newcomer as they perched on the body like giant birds of prey. One had a long strip of flesh dangling from its jaws. I caught a glimpse of Ronan that made me wish I hadn’t.
Sobbing with fear, I slapped and slapped at the door switch and of course nothing happened because I was just confusing it. I shut my ears to what was happening outside, made myself draw a deep breath, gently pressed the pad and finally, the door closed.
I eased myself down to the floor, clutching the fire extinguisher as if my life still depended upon it, panting and sobbing in the dark. After a moment, the dim emergency light flickered on.