Sample

A RAMDON SAMPLING FROM THE ARCHAEOLOGIST REBORN:

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE ORDEAL

Standing there horrified, I exclaimed, “Oh-My-God!” Finally regaining my senses, “I can’t believe that monster is swallowing my husband like an appetizer,” I said. And now the beast’s hungry eyes are turning toward me.”
Sobbing, I cried, “Oh John, why did you have to take this last trip?” I ran to the runabout and picked up a laser rifle, aimed, and fired at the monster. But to my surprise, the blast went wild.
“Damn! How do you shoot this blasted thing?”
The beast continued toward me with an ever-quickening pace.
I frantically reset the rifle and then fumbled with the settings control to get it on maximum power. As carefully as my shaking hands would allow, I took aim with the brute almost on top of me.
“There’s no way you’re having me for dessert you son of a bitch!” I screamed.
This time, as I fired, the monster’s head exploded into a thousand pieces, and the animal fell dead.
I felt an uncanny calm come over me, and my thinking became quick and clear. “I am a veterinarian,” I whispered, “and more than once I’ve saved the life of a calf or colt back on Earth by taking it from its dead mother.”
“Oh God,” I said, realizing that I had absolutely no knowledge of Mega monster anatomy. “But if John is to have any chance at all, I’ve got to do something, and do it now.” Strangely, my fear vanished. It was almost as though some power beyond my understanding was trying to help me.
I became aware that my right hand still had a deathly tight grip on the laser rifle.
“I hope this works.” I used my left hand to switch the rifle to its lowest setting and immediately started to cut open the monster’s belly at a spot where I hoped to find John.
After a few seconds of cutting, the laser power source went dead.
Trying desperately to keep from losing it, I loudly said, “Think, Winona, think! There has to be a way.” My heart sank as I remembered that the runabout was equipped with only one laser rifle.

“The chain saw! John always takes that old antique with him.” I dropped the useless rifle and darted back to the runabout. “I don’t even know how to start the flipping thing,” I said.
Wiping a tear from my cheek with the back of my hand, I jerked open the lid to the equipment storage area and quickly located the chain saw. Turning toward the dead monster, I said, “Now we’ll see …” But then my feet stopped, and I felt my stomach tighten.
“Oh Lord, no, not this too,” I cried. “There’s no fuel!”
Fighting to remain calm and still not willing to be defeated, I began looking around, hoping. A strong feeling of helplessness settled on me like a great weight pushing me down.
“No!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “I can’t just stand here! There must be something that I can do.”
Finally, in desperation, I started searching the runabout. My hand touched something smooth, extracting a large bottle from under the seat that was half full of a dark liquid. I said,
“What’s this?” Quickly scanning the label, my eyes caught the phrase, “100 proof.” “Anything rated 100 proof has be flammable,” I shouted.
“God, if you’re really there, please help me now.” I poured the contents from the bottle into the chainsaw’s fuel tank.
Nothing happened upon pushing the primer button. I became more desperate and franticly looked for a start button. But instead, I found a small rope with a wooden handle on the end of it.
“What’s this for?” Frustrated and looking toward the heavens, I said loud and clear, “There’s nothing to lose now,” as my right hand grasped the handle and yanked.
The small engine shuddered. I yanked again and again, and on the third try, the engine kicked over and continued running. I ran back to the monster and took up where I had left off with the laser rifle.
Henry and his wife, Betty, returned to the sight of splattering blood and ripping flesh.
“Good God!” Betty shouted. “Winona has lost her mind!”
Henry ran toward me. “Get away from it, Winona!” he shouted. “That thing’s dangerous.”
Oblivious to Henry’s shouting I felt the chain saw start to shudder. “Come on – please don’t quit on me now.” The antique saw ricocheted off a shoe, sputtered a few times, and died … out of fuel.
“No! Not now.” I threw the chain saw as far as I could and just sat sobbing. But from the corner of my eye, I could see John’s shoes protruding from the gaping slit in the monster’s belly.

“Help me,” I screamed at Henry as I grabbed John’s feet and began to pull. Managing to pull his legs free to the point where his belt buckle had just become visible, I begged, “Help me … please.”
Henry arrived at my side and, amidst the blood and slime from the monster, grabbed hold of John’s belt with both hands and, as I pulled for all that I was worth, he pulled and yanked as hard as he could.
With a plop, John came out and landed on the ground beside the huge monster. His eyes were glazed over, and his face was a bloody mess.
“Oh my God, it’s John,” Henry said. “He’s dead.”
“No, it can’t be,” I whispered weakly.
I tore off part of my favorite blue blouse and quickly cleared his nostrils and mouth, then cleaned his face as much as possible.
I turned to Henry as I became more rational and pleaded, “Please help me Henry. I know you’re familiar with the old style CPR.” I turned back to my husband and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
A few minutes later, exhausted and broken-hearted, I looked up as a tall black man touched me on the shoulder.
“We’ll take over now, Mrs. Cayman,” the Martian said……