Volume 7: Copal

Issue 14: The King

Florian Reyes Honeywell

By Roach

“Can you repeat that?” my mom had asked. She didn’t take her eyes off the laptop screen, its blue glare reflected in her eyes.

“I just have a question about homework,” I said from where I stood in the doorway of her office.

“Wait a second…” She typed a few more words, before finally turning to look at me. “Sorry. Grant proposals… My attention’s really only 70% here. What did you say?”

I gave a slight nod. Although ‘70% here’ seemed like a generous estimation of her presence, I wasn’t about to dispute it. “Remember what you said about keystone species?” I continued. “Like, how bees are a good example because they pollinate?”

A buzz—reverberating through my bones, through my teeth—disrupted my memory; the images flickered, twisted into…

“Yes. Lots of plants rely on pollination, and lots of animals rely on plants…” my mom had replied. “So you can make an argument that bees are keystone species; if they disappear, there would be a cascade effect throughout the ecosystem.” She spoke in the slow and deliberate tone she liked to use when she discussed her research. Then, she tilted her head. “Why are you bringing this up, anyway?”

“In class today, Mr. Howells said that a keystone species is a species that has great influence on the rest of the ecosystem—a disproportionately large effect relative to its abundance. But the textbook says that it’s a species that maintains the balance of a whole ecosystem—something that other species depend on for survival.”

“Makes sense to me.” She shrugged. “And?”

“I was just thinking about it, and… Well, what about people?”

Panicked screams pierced the air all around me; a dissonance bleeding into the ever-growing buzz in my head, until they seemed like one and the same. Ferns whipped against my ankles, pheromones pressed in on me—flooding every other sense, washing away anything tangible, anything but…

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I mean, by Mr. Howells’ definition, a keystone species influences everything around it… So, then, shouldn’t people be a keystone species?”

She tapped her index finger against the computer mouse, never really clicking it. “I’d say so,” she concluded after a moment’s pause.

“But doesn’t the textbook contradict that?”

“How so?”

“People don’t maintain balance. While something like a pollinator uplift their ecosystems, people disrupt theirs. Pollution, climate change, deforestation, powerfights… So how can both be keystone species?”

“Do you think your teacher is gonna put that on the test?” she said, half-teasingly.

“No, I…” I paused. “Probably not. I was just thinking…”

“Well…” Her lips twitched. “You’re forgetting about something.”

“What?”

“Humans aren’t just keystone species.” Teeth flashed through her smile. “They’re also apex predators.”

Don’t look back. The animal’s roar had ceased, replaced by its huffing breath and the heavy thuds of its steps. The earth quivered underneath my feet—each tremor more forceful than the last. Don’t look back. As the giant creature hurtled after us at an alarmingly fast pace, my legs numbed and weakened—as if I were racing across the moon’s surface, with no gravity to support me. With each loud grunt and thud, the sound grew closer. Don’t look back. Don’t look—

In response to my uncertain silence, my mom continued, “Just think about something like wolves, orcas, or even spruce budworms… Destruction is just another kind of influence.”

I mulled it over, not really sure if that was the answer I had been looking for. While apex predators regulated populations lower down on the food chain, it somehow still seemed different from our own influence on the environment. At what point could you draw the line between influence and balance?

Apex or not, this still seemed to me paradoxical. But maybe I had missed the point, and I had something else in mind—something beyond the bounds of scientific terminology, something not so easily named. But what…

My mom slowly turned to the laptop screen. “Thanks, Florian,” she said, interrupting my train of thought. She started typing again, humming to the sound of the keyboard’s clattering. “This actually helps my writing.”

I tossed an involuntary glance over my shoulder. In the moments since the T-rex had started its pursuit, it had crossed nearly half the distance between us. It launched its huge body forward at a steady pace. Yet, I got the feeling that it wasn’t anywhere close to reaching its top speed, as its long, leathery legs easily overtook our miniscule steps.

My head hummed and my eyes darted wildly around—across flashes of green ferns, the blurred faces of my classmates, blotches of a blue sky—searching for an escape, an impossibility…

Then, from a memory so mundane I thought it was forgotten, my mom’s words welled to my mind’s surface. Humans are also apex predators.

If my body wasn’t operating on autopilot, I would have laughed at it now. In a flash, I saw the world around me in vivid detail and clarity. The splaying ferns, each and every rock, even the humidity thickening the air—it had all been created and meticulously placed by people. IMAGO had grown the redwood forests towering in front of us. They had ripped the earth open to plant the prairie of ferns which now swallowed our footsteps. They had manipulated the local climate to accommodate a long dead, alien world.

People were behind it all—all to nurture and sustain the massive animal now locking its hawklike stare at us. And, as the Tyrannosaurus’ steps thundered behind me, words like keystone species and apex predator paled.

There was no word that could explain to me the terror of its huge, yellowing teeth. Even if people stood behind its creation, something else rang truer to me—more now than ever before.

Destruction is just another kind of influence.

The seconds blurred. It seemed to me that no time had passed at all, and yet I had been running forever. The swarm churned throughout my body, barely distinguishable from my own self. I sensed my classmates running beside me. Through a combination of input from my scouts and my own senses, they appeared as small, distorted figures around me. But—as the Tyrannosaurus let out another rumble—I couldn’t maintain my focus on my friends. I could only hope everyone was accounted for as we sprinted toward the trees.

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Abruptly, the heavy thuds stopped their pursuit. I threw another glance back. About twenty feet behind us, the T-rex had come to a halt. It planted its feet solidly in the middle of the path we had just veered off. Although still facing us, its beady eyes appeared to fixate on something invisible in the air between us.

We slowed. I reigned in the swarm, the buzzing in my head simmering down to a low hum. My eyes darted around before settling on Camilo, who had stopped by the nearest redwood trunk. He placed his hand on its bark, as if to support himself. Sweat ran down his reddening face, plastering locks of black hair to his forehead. His brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stared intently at the Tyrannosaurus.

I looked back at the huge animal; its nostrils widened as it sniffed at the air and let out a loud snort. Whatever illusion Camilo created, I wasn’t sure how long he could sustain it.

Or how long it would take the Tyrannosaurus to see through it.

“Into the trees,” Hannah hissed. If she wondered why the T-rex stopped, she didn’t show it—perhaps it was better to find safety first and ask questions later.

I quickly glanced around to see that we had all made it. And, without hesitation, we followed her deeper into the forest. I tried to ignore the part of my mind telling me that going off the trail was a bad idea—getting lost was preferable to getting eaten.

Maybe Hannah had been right that the map would come in handy, just not in the way I had hoped…

Camilo stumbled behind me, nearly tripping. In a moment, I was at his side—helping him regain his balance. “Everything okay?” I asked. As I pulled him behind the massive trunk of a redwood, it occurred to me how silly my question was.

“Big,” he murmured. “It’s bigger than I’ve done before.”

“What?”

“Everyone’s invisible.” He pressed his hand to his forehead, like he was trying to relieve a terrible migraine. “Never done more than one or two people before…”

The sound of another thud prompted me to glance back the way we came. Through the trees, I saw the Tyrannosaurus, almost gingerly, stepping off the path—toward us.

“We need to go,” Amber hissed ahead of us. Fern chirped and squirmed in her arms as she hurried down the sloping hillside. The rest of our group quickly followed suit, scrambling after her.

I tried to keep pace with them, but balancing Camilo by my side left me somewhat unstable. My foot slipped on the slick ferns underneath me. Camilo gasped, and I only regained my balance at the last second. Had his illusion held? I looked back, stealing a glance at the hulking dinosaur behind us…

It was only ten or twenty feet away, stalking slowly through the woods. Each footfall made the ground shake beneath me, and it emanated a constant low rumble that reached deep in my chest—sending a quiver through the swarm. The dinosaur swung its head back and forth, taking deep breaths from the air around it. As I watched its nostrils expand and contract with each breath, I wondered how well it could smell us. I knew Camilo’s powers could cover all five senses, but this monster had a nose bigger than my head…

On top of our visuals, and the sounds we made, stumbling through the woods… Could Camilo really mask our scents?

The two of us had fallen behind the rest of the group, who scurried through the tangled undergrowth as fast as they could. I wasn’t sure they even realized we had fallen behind… But there was no way I could alert them, as the T-rex suddenly cut in front of Camilo and I. We froze in place, and my grip on him tensed. Its huge legs covered my vision as it swept past us, and I felt the air move around its massive body.

My surprise had barely made way for fear before I realized that we weren’t its target. In the distance, I heard Fern’s desperate chirping continue—despite Amber’s frantic attempts to hush it. The Tyrannosaurus wasn’t stalking toward the group, it was homing in on her.

On Fern.

“Camilo,” I said, panic edging into my voice. He leaned heavily against me, seemingly not registering my voice. “Camilo!” I repeated, louder this time.

His eyes fluttered open—then went wide with terror as the monster stopped behind Amber. It sniffed the air around her, and strands of her red hair moved underneath the force of its heavy breathing. She froze, her eyes unblinking and mouth hanging open as the T-rex lowered its head near eye level with her—like it knew she was there, but couldn’t see her.

In Amber’s arms, Fern struggled to escape, desperately chirping in alarm.

I suppose the little dinosaur—whatever it was—instinctively knew the danger better than any of us.

Camilo tore himself away from me. Before I could react, he began sprinting down the hill. “H-hey!” he screamed. As he waved his arms above his head, I realized with a sinking feeling what he was doing. “Get over here you b-big fucking stupid lizard!”

The T-rex swung its head away from Amber, now turning to Camilo as he raced down the hill. Casting a look back toward Amber and Fern, the hulking dinosaur followed after Camilo with a surprising tentativeness—like it was more interested in checking in on the commotion than actually chasing Camilo. As it lumbered down the hill, Amber remained frozen in place, her entire body shivering. I shot one glance after Camilo as he disappeared between the trees, before I sprinted toward Amber.

Within moments, I reached the others. I grabbed onto her arm. “Let’s get out of here,” I hissed into her ear, pulling her along.

At the same time, Daniel started to move after Camilo. Hannah instantly yanked him back. “Ca—” the single syllable barely escaped his mouth before Hannah clasped one hand over it, her other remaining on his arm.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

“But—” he started, his voice muffled through her hand.

“Don’t let this go to waste. We need to move. Now.”

I saw Daniel purse his lips together. Although he was doing better than before, he still moved awkwardly through the ferns—a far cry from his usual football run.

Hannah was right; going after Camilo would only put more of us at stake. But, at the same time, if I hadn’t known any better—that his powers gave him a better chance of survival than anyone else here—I would have gone after him in a heartbeat.

Resisting the urge to follow and make sure he would be okay, I exchanged a glance with Hannah—as if an unspoken agreement passed between us.

I tugged at Amber’s arm again. At the same time, Jazmine stepped next to us. “Come on, let’s go,” she whimpered, staring at us with pleading eyes. I quickly surveyed my classmates’ faces. Tears streaked Lucy’s pale cheeks, while Jay’s gray eyes had glazed over as they peered after Camilo. Meanwhile, Jazmine and Lewis held hands, and Daniel stared stone-faced into the earth.

Amber blinked vigorously as she gave in to my pull, and we started running again. While Fern’s shrieking didn’t stop, it quieted down as we created more distance between us and the T-rex. I glanced back into the trees. I thought I saw its shadow lurking between the trees, but it was difficult to make out anything between the thick trunks of the redwoods. But, even so, I heard the faint crackle of ferns being crushed underneath its steps.

I reached out to my scouts, my pheromones emitting a single question: Where’s Camilo?

I sensed my bees scattered in the trees around our group—having stayed within my radius as we ran away. I tagged a couple on the Tyrannosaurus; even if I had lost sight of it, it was massive enough that it wouldn’t be difficult for them to track down.

We kept running downhill, and—as the trees grew fewer and farther between—I picked up on a signal in the air.

Boy gone, my scouts chanted.

Relief washed over me. If they couldn’t find Camilo, that meant he must have been able to turn invisible again before the T-rex caught up to him. If he had been attacked, there would have been some sort of trace for them to pick up on.

Besides, what was the T-rex doing now? I reached out to my scouts again, searching for the source of its steps, lumbering somewhere behind—

I slammed into something. As I crumpled to the ground, there was no sign of what I had collided with—like some invisible force had materialized into thin air…

With a grunt, Camilo blinked into existence right in front of me. “Dammit,” he groaned. I shakily rose to my feet, still caught by surprise as he continued, “I tried to lead it away from you guys.”

The rush of footsteps around me slowed, as my classmates realized that Camilo had circled back to us. Gabriel ran to his side. “You’re such an idiot,” he said, although there was a hint of softness in his tone.

“Where’d you come from, bro?” Daniel asked, his voice jubilant. I quickly looked around, worried that anyone had noticed Camilo appearing out of nothing. Luckily, it seemed that everyone had been too busy running away—only Amber looked back at me with recognition.

“We don’t have time for this,” Hannah intercepted. “Let’s go.”

As we continued to run, I searched the air for the mingling pheromones of my scouts. One signal stood out from the others—albeit at a distance, it was stronger, more pressing. The location of the Tyrannosaurus, I realized. Camilo’s stunt had helped us recover some of the distance we had lost in the chase—but it wasn’t going to last. It appeared to head in our direction again, closing in on us once more.

As my feet pounded against the ground, I could barely feel them anymore. We reached the bottom of the slope, and stumbled out of the woodlands.

Before us stretched a wide expanse of green ferns, horsetails, and dark brown mud. Wide and meandering rivers crisscrossed the landscape: it was the delta, the first thing we had seen when we ventured into Hell Creek. An Edmontosaurus herd grazed on ferns about half a mile away from us—were they the same ones that we had seen a few days ago? Beyond them, I glimpsed the faint outline of the wooden footbridge we had crossed, which pathed through the swamp toward what looked like a stark ridgeline in the distance. There, maybe a mile or two away, I saw what looked like a collection of… tents? It was hard to tell, but the small dots that moved amongst them…

People? Near Hell Creek’s entrance?

The T-rex’s footfalls intensified behind me, accompanied by the snapping and cracking of tree branches. Alarm pheromones surrounded me, but I didn’t need them to tell me that the dinosaur had found us.

With nowhere else to turn, I took a step into the mud before us—my foot instantly sinking a few inches into it. As the others joined me, casting desperate glances back into the shaking jungle behind us, I heard Amber muttering to herself, over and over…

“We were so close.”