IT HAS BEGUN - The terrifying prologue to KRONOS RISING: KRAKEN
Ron got up.
“Holy shit! Steve, the Taser’s not stopping him!”
“It has to! Nobody can take that. Hit him again!”
“Look out! Here he comes!”
Ron charged again, powering his way past the jolts of pain. He smashed into the nearest intruder with bone-jarring force, grappling with him, tearing at him. The struggle intensified as the two rolled around on the alley’s blood-soaked cobblestones. The second creature joined in the battle, striking at his head with a hard stick in an effort to aid his comrade.
Ron laughed.
The intruders were pathetically weak. He could sense it. He snatched the light from the closer one and backhanded him across the face with it, sending him sprawling. Then he turned toward the other one. He was stumbling backward, clawing at his hip, and obviously terrified.
Amused, Ron turned away and focused on the one on the ground. He took a deep whiff, smelling the hot blood that ran in rivulets from the downed newcomer’s brow, and listened to the jackhammer beating of his heart.
More food.
THE DEADLIEST KILLERS ARE THE ONES YOU CAN'T SEE.
Three weeks have passed since the monstrous Kronosaurus imperator’s attack on Harcourt Marina stunned the world. The death toll was horrific, but Paradise Cove’s traumatized survivors soon discover they have more to worry about than just burying their dead and rebuilding their shattered lives.
Accompanying the pliosaur were hordes of primeval pathogens. With their host destroyed, the Cretaceous-era bacteria are forced to find new homes for themselves. They do: tiny, bipedal life forms whose warm, iron-rich blood provides perfect growing conditions. They begin to multiply and spread, their mutagenic qualities quickly warping their unwitting host’s delicate bodies and minds. Soon, the infected are transformed into mindless beasts, consumed with a burning hunger for flesh.
And like all ravening beasts, they must feed . . .
Ron got up.
“Holy shit! Steve, the Taser’s not stopping him!”
“It has to! Nobody can take that. Hit him again!”
“Look out! Here he comes!”
Ron charged again, powering his way past the jolts of pain. He smashed into the nearest intruder with bone-jarring force, grappling with him, tearing at him. The struggle intensified as the two rolled around on the alley’s blood-soaked cobblestones. The second creature joined in the battle, striking at his head with a hard stick in an effort to aid his comrade.
Ron laughed.
The intruders were pathetically weak. He could sense it. He snatched the light from the closer one and backhanded him across the face with it, sending him sprawling. Then he turned toward the other one. He was stumbling backward, clawing at his hip, and obviously terrified.
Amused, Ron turned away and focused on the one on the ground. He took a deep whiff, smelling the hot blood that ran in rivulets from the downed newcomer’s brow, and listened to the jackhammer beating of his heart.
More food.
THE DEADLIEST KILLERS ARE THE ONES YOU CAN'T SEE.
Three weeks have passed since the monstrous Kronosaurus imperator’s attack on Harcourt Marina stunned the world. The death toll was horrific, but Paradise Cove’s traumatized survivors soon discover they have more to worry about than just burying their dead and rebuilding their shattered lives.
Accompanying the pliosaur were hordes of primeval pathogens. With their host destroyed, the Cretaceous-era bacteria are forced to find new homes for themselves. They do: tiny, bipedal life forms whose warm, iron-rich blood provides perfect growing conditions. They begin to multiply and spread, their mutagenic qualities quickly warping their unwitting host’s delicate bodies and minds. Soon, the infected are transformed into mindless beasts, consumed with a burning hunger for flesh.
And like all ravening beasts, they must feed . . .
