Temple

The German captain just stared at the creature before him in stunned silence.

It was huge.

And then suddenly it was joined by a second, identical creature, stepping out from behind it.

They must have been hiding inside the alcoves, von Dirksen thought.

Lying in wait. Waiting for him and his men to walk past them, so that they could now cut off their retreat.

And then in a flash the first creature pounced. Von Dirksen never had a chance. It moved incredibly fast for an animal of its size and in a second its slashing jaws filled his field of vision and in that moment all Kurt von Dirksen could do was scream.

Shouts and screams burst out from the television's speakers.

Race and the others stared at the screen in horror.

The screams of the last three members of the entry team being attacked echoed across the airwaves. Briefly, Race heard gunfire, but it only lasted for a second before abruptly both it and the screaming cut off together and there was silence.

Long silence.

Race stared at the television screen, at the picture of the open mouth of the temple.

“Von Dirksen, Friedrich, Nielson. Report.'

There was no reply from the men inside the temple.

Race swapped a glance with Lauren.

And then suddenly a new voice came in over the speakers.

It was a breathless voice, panting and afraid.

'Sir! This is Nielson! Repeat, this is Nielson! Oh God… God help us. Get out of here, sir! Get out of here while you still—”

Smack!

It sounded like a collision of some sort.

Like the sound of something big slamming into the man named Nielson.

Sounds of a scuffle ensued and then, abruptly, Race heard a blood-curdling scream and then—over the scream— he heard another, infinitely more terrifying, sound.

It was a roar—an ungodly roar—loud and deep like that of a lion.

Only fuller, more resonant, fiercer.

Race's eyes flashed back to the television screen and suddenly he froze.

He saw it.

Saw it emerge from the shadowy darkness of the portal.

And as he watched the giant black creature step out from the mouth of the temple, Race felt a deep sickness in the pit of his stomach.

Because he knew then, in that moment, that despite all their technology, all their guns, and all of their selfish desires to find a new and fantastic power source, the men on that rock tower had just violated a far, far simpler rule of human evolution.

Some doors are meant to remain unopened.

Gunther Kolb and the other dozen or so Germans on the tower top just stared at the animal standing in the portal in awe.

It was magnificent.

It was fully five feet tall, even while standing on all four legs, and it was completely black in colour, jet-black from head to toe.

It looked like a jaguar of some sort.

A giant black jaguar.

The massive cat's eyes glinted yellow in the moonlight, and with its furrowed angry brows, hunched muscular shoulders and dagger-like teeth, it truly looked like the Devil incarnate.

And then, abruptly, the soft blue moonlight that illuminated the temple's portal was replaced by a harsh strobe-like flash of lightning and in the deafening crash of thunder that followed, the great animal roared.

It might as well have been a signal.

Because at that moment—at that precise moment—over a dozen other giant black cats burst forth from the darkness of the temple and attacked the Germans on the tower top.

Despite the fact that they were armed with assault rifles and submachine-guns, the members of the German expedition never stood a Chance.

The cats were too fast. Too agile. Too powerful. They slammed into the stunned crowd of soldiers and scientists with shocking ferocity—bowling them over, leaping onto them, mauling them alive.

A few of the soldiers managed to get some shots off and one of the cats went crashing to the ground, spasming violently.

But it didn't matter, the other cats barely seemed to notice the bullets whizzing around them and within seconds they were all over those soldiers, too—tearing into their flesh, biting into their throats, suffocating them with their powerful clamp-like jaws.

Hideous screams filled the night air.

General Gunther Kolb ran.

Wet fern fronds slapped hard against his face as he hurried down the stone stairway that led back to the suspension bridge.

If he could just make it to the bridge, he thought, and untie it from the buttresses on the far side, then the cats would be trapped on the rock tower.

Kolb bolted down the wet stone slabs, the sound of his own breathing loud in his ears, the sound of something large crashing through the foliage behind him even louder.

More fern fronds smacked against his face, but he didn't care. He was almost—

There!

He saw it.

The rope bridge!

He even saw a few of his men bouncing across its length, fleeing from the carnage on the tower top.

Kolb flew down the last few steps and ran out onto the ledge.

He'd made it!

It was then that a tremendous weight thudded into him from behind and the German general went sprawling forward.