”DON’T SHOOT IT!” Bull yelled. `TAKE IT ALIVE!”
Half a dozen Pest Control officers swore, but dropped shotguns in favor of big capture nets. Kit scrambled up and grabbed the edge of the nearest net. Malcolm latched onto another section and lifted it in readiness for the beast’s next pass.
”What is that thing?” a nearby Time Tours employee gasped.
The enormous animal soared toward the ceiling on thirty-foot wings, scraping a catwalk with one wingtip.
Sue Fritchey said calmly, “Looks like a Pteranodon sternbergi to me. Damned near as big as a Quetzalecoatlus-and that’s the biggest pterodactyl we know about. That gate opened right into the Upper Cretaceous. Here it comes Ready …wait… wait. . “
Kit hung onto his nerve and faced down a lethally sharp beak as the giant pterosaur swooped directly toward them. The head and neck alone were longer than Sven Bailey was tall. Kit’s lizard-brain, that portion of the human cranium that controls fight-or-flight reactions, was screaming “RUN!” at the top of its lungs.
Kit ignored it.
Sue was still cautioning them, “Wait …almost …almost… NOW!
A dozen men heaved the big net. It tangled in wings. Another net hit it, settling over the sharp beak and soaring crest. The huge pterodactyl came down hard in a mass of screaming, struggling beak, wings, and claws. Someone fired tranquilizers into it, three shots in rapid succession. Bull Morgan darted over to help hold the nets. A powerful wing lifted Kit off the ground then flung him back toward the shattered cobbles, but he hung onto the rope. Malcolm came loose and vanished from Kit’s immediate awareness. Kit thought he heard a cry of pain and an explosive curse, but he was abruptly confronted by a baleful scarlet eye and a snapping, up curved beak that severed half-inch hemp fibers like spaghetti strings.