Matt Archer: Monster Summer Read Free Page A

the area
around us. Schmitz stood by the Humvee, talking on the satellite-phone. Nothing
else moved, not even the wind, but I didn’t like the silence. I checked
downrange—the Dingo we’d been watching had disappeared.
    “Will, go tell Schmitz we have incoming.”
    Will didn’t ask any questions; he just ran for Schmitz,
leaving our gear in a pile on the edge of the cliff. While I waited, I
unsheathed my knife. The handle flashed a pale blue in the sunshine—a warning
that monsters were near. Yeah, trouble was definitely on its way.
    A soft breeze raised the hairs on my neck and I drew in big
gulps of air, trying to slow my pulse. I could be calm. I could wait.
    A low, grating growl echoed against the rocks, right behind
me.
    Then again, maybe not.
    Be ready, the knife commanded. Turn. Now!
    I whirled around as the Dingo leapt over the ledge, closing
the distance between us. Its momentum tumbled us both to the ground in a
rolling snarl of limbs. Teeth I had to believe would rival a shark’s snapped at
my nose and the thing’s breath smelled like week-old hamburger left out in the
sun. Holding in a gag, I jerked my head out of its reach and twisted my hips,
rolling us one last time so that I ended up on top of the dog pile.
    I lifted the knife, preparing to send this monster back to
whatever Hell it came from, but the Dingo grabbed the front of my jacket,
pulling me so close that we were literally eye-to-eye. “Not so fast there,
mate. Take a look behind you. Go on…I’ll wait.”
    I sucked in a quick breath. I hadn’t exactly sat down to
chat with any of the Dingoes, and this one’s conversational tone freaked me
out. The Bears I’d fought back home had sounded like cavemen, mangling what
barely passed for English. Hearing the Dingo rasp out perfect English in an
Aussie accent made my insides quiver. Gripping the knife tight in my fist, I
chanced a quick glance over my shoulder.
    Three new Dingoes had surrounded the Humvee and the
ring-tailed one we’d been watching downrange lifted Will off the ground with a
meaty paw wrapped around his throat. Will stood six-four in his socks and
weighed two-twenty—all solidly packed muscle—yet the thing held him up with
only one hand.
    Schmitz was nowhere to be found. During my boot camp, he’d
taught me how to creep through the forest unnoticed; leave it to him to find a
way to hide in the middle of a desert. Okay, hopefully that meant he was
planning a diversion. I forced myself to let out a slow breath.
    “So I looked,” I said, hoping I sounded snide instead of
scared. “What do you want?”
    The Dingo I had penned chuckled, calling my attention back
to it. “You humans are easy to break, yeah? Let me up, or your friend loses his
head. Get it?”
    If we got out of this mess alive, I’d have plenty to add to
my report. We knew the monsters’ intelligence had increased at a rapid pace,
but tactics like these were beyond anything we’d seen. I glared into the
Dingo’s beady eyes. “Yeah, I get it.”
    I stood slowly, keeping my hands up. The Dingo rose on its
hind legs, as well, never breaking eye-contact. I knew it would tell me to drop
the knife any second, so I had to think of something fast, or we were all Alpo.
    There weren’t many options, though. If I killed the leader,
I might have time to retrieve the knife and throw it at the one holding Will
before it broke his neck. The knife never missed—it’d hit the target. But what
about the other three?
    To buy some time I asked, “So, why’d you decide today was the day you wanted to die?”
    The Lead-Dingo was less than impressed with my trash talk.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to ask those kinds of questions, mate.” It
jerked its head toward the Humvee. “Squeeze him.”
    Will cried out. I hazarded another look. Ring-tail banged
him hard against the Humvee. Even from this distance, I could tell Will’s face
was turning purple. He scrabbled at the thing’s paws with his fingers