The chinook was holding. The wind was running through the valley like hot air through a heating duct, the river swollen and the ground so quickly dry that small lassos of dust flew up from their tires as they rode off the highway towards the suspension bridge that would take them into the rolling hills and the magnificent, eerie hoodoos.

Travis felt great. The wind was in his face. He had an excellent mountain bike under him. He was taking the runs easily, gearing down for the rises effortlessly. He had a natural eye for reading terrain and moved quicker, more sure, than any of the others. He had forgotten all about Nish and his wild story. He had forgotten all about Kelly Block and his chemistry. He had forgotten about the loss to the Werewolves.

It was so good to be out here with his friends. Sarah was right alongside him, as graceful and sure-footed on a mountain bike as she was on a hockey rink. Lars was letting his back wheel drift around corners, causing Jesse to scream that he was going to lose it, but Lars never did. Andy was strong going up the hills, cautious going down. Jenny was exactly the same on the trails as she was in net: steady.

Deeper and deeper into the Badlands they went. Strange rock formations rose all about them, casting long, bizarrely shaped shadows on each other and along the curling, twisting trails. There was a sense of other-worldliness here. It felt like a different planet, a different time.

Now Travis’s thoughts did return to Nish. He could see how someone with a vivid imagination–and Nish had one of the wildest–might think he had seen anything here from giant toadstools to alien statues.

Some of the sandstone structures even had faces–if you looked at a certain angle.

What was that sound?

Sarah had moved ahead of Travis on the flat, and dust rose sharply as she braked. Travis braked hard and turned, his rear wheel digging in and sliding to a fast stop. The others braked hard, dust rolling all around them, blocking any clear view.

“Did you hear that?” Sarah asked.

“I heard something,” Travis said.

“I heard it, too,” said Andy. “What was it?”

“Sounded like a sick lion,” suggested Lars.

“There’s no lions in Alberta,” said Jenny. Travis could detect a little shiver in her voice.

Again, the same sound–closer!

Sarah turned sharply, ready to pump. “What the–?”

“My God!” Andy called out. “L-L-L-OOK!”

 

Travis turned to follow Andy’s line of vision. His eyes moved along the grey-brown trail past a small hoodoo and came to a break between two steeply sloping hills.

What he saw first was the movement–a tail lashing back and forth in the space between the slopes as something moved from shadow to light.

Something with small beady red eyes.

Something with huge horn-like scales about the eye and down the neck.

Something red and rust and dirt yellow and dull green.

Something huge.

And something impossible!

An Albertosaurus!

“It’s a trick!” Travis said, but he didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

“It’s coming at us!” Jenny squealed.

It could not be a model; it moved. It could not be a balloon; the ground rumbled as it stepped. It could not be a trick of their eyes; it roared, and their ears filled with a sound unlike anything any of them had heard before.

It was a sound that seemed to come from the centre of the earth itself.

The monster stepped again towards them and the ground around them trembled!

As a perfect unit, the six Screech Owls turned on their bikes, leapt high above their seats, and pushed down so hard on their pedals that six back wheels spun uselessly in the dirt. A dustcloud rose so high and thick around them that, when Travis looked back, he could barely make out the shadow of the dinosaur.

But it was still there, tail lashing, eyes flashing, tongue flicking. The monster hurled a mighty roar at them, and lowered its head as if preparing to charge.

“GO!” Andy called.

“RUN FOR IT!” Sarah shouted.

“HELLLLLP!” Jesse screamed.

“HELLLLLLP UUUUSSSSSSSS!”