And I ducked, pulling Gisela down with me, even as the albertosaurus’ teeth clacked above us and Ank reared up: hurling us from the howdah, dumping us into the river. Even as the M4 slid from my fingers and began to sink, leadenly, rapidly, and Gisela, who had been looking toward the dam, began to shriek—at which I saw a huge, flat tail slip into the water.
“Jesus—swim!”
And we did: pumping toward the bank (where Ank was engaged in furious combat with the albertosaurus); lunging for its safety even as the beaver pursued; scrambling from the river as it caught the end of her dress with its teeth and began reversing—at which I drew my revolver but instantly lost it (due to one of her flailing limbs); then quickly reached for my knife.
“Okay; I got it, I got it,” I grunted, as I sawed at t
