Temple

The inhabitants of the village now lined the rims of the pit and peered down into it, waiting for the arrival of one of the caimans.

Race patted his pockets for any weapons he could use.

He was still wearing his jeans and T-shirt and the kevlar breastplate that Uli had given to him at the mine, and of course, his glasses and Yankees baseball cap.

No weapons except for the grappling hook that hung from his belt.

Race grabbed it. It had a length of rope attached to it, and at the moment its four silver claws were retracted, lying flush against the hook's handle like an umbrella in the closed position.

He looked at it for a moment, thinking. Maybe he could use it to climb out of here—-

It was then that something very large slid in through the open gate from the moat.

Race froze.

Even though fully three-quarters of its body must have been under the surface, it was still absolutely enormous.

Race saw the nostrils and the eyes and the rounded armoured back protruding above the surface—all moving at the same speed as the big animal cruised ominously through the water. He saw its long plated tail swishing lazily back and forth behind it, propelling it slowly forward.

It was a caiman and it was huge.

At least an eighteen-footer.

Once the massive reptile was fully inside the pit, the bamboo gate behind it was lowered back into its slot and locked into place.

Now it was just Race and the caiman.

Facing off.

Good God…

Race sidestepped away from the big beast, backing into a corner of the square-shaped pit, his feet sloshing through the knee-deep water.

The caiman didn't move a muscle.

In fact, the enormous crocodile-like creature didn't even seem to be aware of his presence at all.

Race could hear his heart pounding loudly inside his head.

Kathumpkathumpkathump.

The caiman still didn't move.

Race stood frozen in the corner of the pit.

And then suddenly, without warning, the caiman moved.

But it wasn't a quick movement of any kind. It didn't rush forward. Nor did it lunge or leap at Race. Rather, it just lowered itself, slowly and ominously, beneath the surface of the muddy water.

Race's eyes went instantly wide.

Holy shit.

The caiman had just submerged itself completely! He couldn't see it. In fact, in the soft blue moonlight and the flickering orange light of the Indians' torches, he couldn't see anything but the small waves on the surface of the water.

More silence.

Wavelets slapped against the earthen walls of the pit.

Race's entire body was tensed, waiting for the caiman to appear. He gripped the steel grappling hook in his hand like a club.

The water's surface was completely still.

Total silence.

Race could feel the fear building up inside him.

Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-fuck.

He wondered how long the reptile could stay under—

The attack came from the left, just as Race was looking to the right.

With a loud roar, the caiman exploded up out of the water next to him, its jaws bared wide, its enormous two- ton body rolling through the air.

Race saw the reptile instantly and on a reflex dived sideways, splashing into the water as the caiman shot past him and slammed down into the slime again.

Race clambered to his feet, spun around, then dived again as the caiman made another lightning-quick pass at him, snapping its jaws in front of his face with a loud fleshy smack.

Race was covered in mud now, but he didn't care. He rose out of the water again—right next to the earthen wall of the pit—and turned just in time to see the caiman come rushing at his face.

He ducked—let his body drop straight down, under the surface and the caiman went thundering over the top of him, slamming nose-first into the muddy wall of the pit.

Race surfaced to the cheers of the Indians standing up on the rim of the pit. He waded right and found himself stand ing in deeper water. He began to unloop the rope attached to the grappling hook.

He looked up at the rim of the pit.

Fifteen feet, not far.

He was standing waist-deep in the water now, unlooping the rope. As he did so, he quickly glanced about himself, to see where the caiman was.

And he didn't see it.

The caiman was nowhere to be seen.

The pit was completely bare.

It must have gone under again…

Race looked fearfully at the water all around himself.

Oh, shit . . . he thought.

And then abruptly he felt something slam into his leg at tremendous speed, felt a searing pain shoot through his ankle. Then he was yanked beneath the surface.

Race went under, opened his eyes, and through the inky water all around him, saw that the caiman had his left foot inside its mouth!

But it didn't have a good grip on him and it opened its mouth for a split second to get a better one.

That was all Race needed. No sooner had the big reptile released his foot than Race yanked it clear and the caiman's jaws came chomping down on nothing.

Race surfaced, with the grappling hook's rope trailing through the water behind him, desperately gasping for air.