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way through.

With no other choice, she turned back and started climbing for the roof.

Chapter 35

Congo and Big Rex circled in the street.

This battle was personal.  And a long time in coming.

When they came together, there was nothing like it in the history of the Earth – and the world indeed shook to attention.

Circling choppers broadcast the images worldwide, even as police choppers gave up on useless gunfire, and simply turned their attention to diverting the citizenry out of their path.

So far, that wasn't hard – their path had been straight as an arrow.

And now they faced each other, the chemical in their veins amplifying a long and mutual animosity into a panting rage.

It was the rex who attacked first, and also drew first blood.

Congo had been watching for it.  T. rex' armaments had evolved into one massive super-weapon – its jaws.  Where an allosaur might have kicked with clawed feet or slashed with clawed hands, a rex attack was like the big carcharodonts, and came from the head.

Oh, it could kick alright, but the claws were blunted like an ostrich, or a horse's hoof.

This was a killing battle, and the rex came after Congo with bio-armament that had raised its kind to the top of the food chain.  Back on the island, Congo had seen tyrannosaurs drop ceratopsians with a single bite, and cripple a full-grown titanosaur.

But your greatest weapon can become a weakness if you rely on it overmuch, and Congo had mastered a tyrannosaur or two in his day – usually skirmishes with the smaller, albeit aggressive adolescent males, but occasionally he had battled the big female pride leaders.

The trick was simple wrestling – evade the massive jaws and go for the powerful but unarmed legs.

Of course, this was no juvenile male or even a female pride leader.  Big Rex was a fully-mature, dominant rogue.

He was experienced, as well, lunging forward with the suddenness of a striking snake.  Congo had been on his guard, but the teeth still snagged his shoulder, chopping out a divot.

Congo returned with a mighty blow of his own, a truck-sized fist that crashed against the rex' jaw, shaking the beast's entire frame.

The blow echoed in the streets.  The impact might have crippled a carcharodont – broken its jaw, or possibly its neck.  But the rex, with a skull designed to absorb the headlong impact of its own attacks, merely rounded back, landing a heavy return stroke with its bony brow.

Congo caught the head, grabbing with both arms and clamping the lethal jaws shut.

The titans grappled, widening the city block as they crashed into the buildings around them.

Congo was attempting to take his opponent's back, pulling himself beyond the reach of the jaws, to where his long arms could encircle the thick bulldog neck.  The rex responded with simple brute force, bucking like a bronco-bull, slamming his rider against the base of the tower.

The impact knocked out Congo's wind.  Sensing advantage, the rex dug forward with both legs.  Congo maintained his hold on the jaws, but now he found himself pinned.

The rex snarled in anger and Congo felt himself answering in kind – and in doing so, began to realize his own disadvantage.

Instead of the tactical battle that might have allowed him to hold his own, Congo found himself fueled by a mindless rage, an urge to meet the rex' brutality with his own.

That was a battle he simply couldn't win.  The rex was larger and better-armed – a true primordial engine of power.  Congo had to get control of himself or the matter would soon be finished.

As he struggled against the base of the tower, Congo was also well aware that somewhere, not far above, Shanna was feeling every tremor.

Fortunately, the building was sturdier than it looked.  A normal to-code structure would have already collapsed, but this was an Area 51 branch office.

The rex pushed forward, and Congo slipped suddenly aside, sending the lunging jaws face-first into the building.

Stepping in quickly, the big ape delivered another bludgeoning blow to the rex' head.

Taking the impact cleanly, Big Rex whirled, bent low, connecting heavily with the bony ridge of its massive skull.  Congo was knocked backwards, and sent rolling into one of the neighboring towers – a more modest ten-story structure that crumbled under him like a sandcastle.

Congo was on his feet in a moment, shaking off dust, pounding the street in anger.

Both combatants circled, both unbowed.

But the rex had a shade better of the battle.  Congo's shoulder was bleeding and he found himself backing up, forced on the defensive.

The rex allowed no quarter, moving in relentlessly.

It was a second too late when Congo realized the cagey tyrannosaur had again maneuvered him against the tower.

The moment his back touched the concrete, the rex launched forward, its massive jaws yawning wide.

Congo realized he couldn't get out of the way.

The jaws closed over his already-wounded shoulder.  But this time, the teeth sank down deep, piercing into bone, clamping down like a vice.

In another moment, it would begin to shake and rip, and the cookie-cutter-action of the teeth, combined with the torque from the powerful muscles in its neck, would sever Congo's arm from his body, along with most of the meat and bone across the big ape's shoulder and back, leaving a wide-open, hollowed-out wound.  Congo would not survive it.

Evolution had curved rex-teeth inward and back – pulling away would sink the hold deeper.

So instead, Congo pushed forward.

The unexpected shift in direction gave Congo one last chance to regain the offensive.

His massive paw swept along the street, scooping up a semi-trailer, and brought it in a wide, sweeping arc against the rex' skull.  Big Rex let out an angry grunt, but did not release his grip.

Congo hit him again.  And then a third time, his strength fading fast.

The third blow, however, happened to strike the rex in the eye, the hard metal digging past the protective bony brow, into the soft tissue of the iris.

Big Rex screamed, releasing his grip, and Congo rolled clear.

The rex

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