The Mannosaur

By E.C. Croslin

Everett Croslin Sr. is a native of Baltimore attended the citys schools before
enlisting in the United States Navy for six years re-enlisting some years later in the
United States Air Force servicing in Desert Storm and Desert Shield. He attended
Coppin State College where he studied in Political Science later attended
Morgan State University in the fi eld of Psychology, Creative Writing as well as
Script Writing. After nine months of working for NASA, Croslin soon turned his
attention to Law Enforcement serving eighteen years as a Commissioned Offi cer
trained by both the Maryland State Police and Baltimore City Police Department
while working as one of Morgan States Police Offi cers. Besides his writings he is
a composer having arranged as well as performed musical scores for novels he
has written.
The authors love for adventure and friction writing goes back to his early teens his
intentions are to bring more minorities into focus as leading characters as well as
have his novels suit his audience dealing mostly in spy thrillers along with science
fi ction admiring such authors as Tom Clancy, Ian F1amming and Gene Rodenberry
having a broader realm of imagination in entertaining their readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479770052

E.C. Croslin

Everett Croslin Sr. is a native of Baltimore attended the city's schools before enlisting in the United States Navy for six years re-enlisting some years later in the United States Air Force servicing in Desert Storm and Desert Shield. He attended Coppin State College where he studied in Political Science later attended Morgan State University in the field of Psychology, Creative Writing as well as Script Writing. After nine months of working for NASA, Croslin soon turned his attention to Law Enforcement serving eighteen years as a Commissioned Officer trained by both the Maryland State Police and Baltimore City Police Department while working as one of Morgan State's Police Officers. Besides his writings he is a composer having arranged as well as performed musical scores for novels he has written. The author's love for adventure and friction writing goes back to his early teens his intentions are to bring more minorities into focus as leading characters as well as have his novels suit his audience dealing mostly in spy thrillers along with science fiction admiring such authors as Tom Clancy, Ian F1amming and Gene Rodenberry having a broader realm of imagination in entertaining their readers.

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Copyright © 2013 by E.C. Croslin.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4797-7004-5

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4797-7005-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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IT HAS BEEN SEVERAL YEARS SINCE YOUNG PALEONTOLOGIST REX WILLIAMS AND HIS FRIEND LEFT BAY CITY TO VENTURE THE COUNTRYSIDE IT HAS ALSO BEEN SEVERAL YEARS SINCE BAY CITY’S LEGENDARY LIZARD MAN WAS SEEN.

WILLIAMS FINDS WORK IN A FORESTRY COMPANY TO SOON FIND HIMSELF INVOLVE IN A LONG GOING FRAUD WITH A GROUP OF BULLYING TOWNS PEOPLE ALONG WITH A BAND OF NATIVE AMERICANS BUT WHEN THE SIGHTING OF THE MANNOSAUR IS REPORTED, THINGS GET WORSE WITH AIR FORCE MAJOR HARRIS AND HIS TEAM OF ALIEN HUNTING SOLDIERS ARRIVE ALONG WITH HIS FRIEND AND FORMER COLLEAGUE PROFESSOR CONNORS THE FOREST SURROUNDING THE SMALL TOWNSHIP AS WELL AS THE INDIAN RESERVATION, BECOMES ROCKED WITH FEAR WITH THE CREATURE BELIEVED TO BE MAN’S MISSING LINK BETWEEN DINOSAUR AND CAVE MAN CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE

It had been over six years sine Rex Williams’s father’s private jet collided with an alien spacecraft that killed the pilot leaving the young Paleontology student badly injured and stranded for somewhere on a nearby Island for several weeks. It was Nicohdamus the small shape shifting alien of the aircraft who life implanted small micro chips in Williams’s limb in order to save his life realizing they held the capability to have the young boy change form of some kind at will. It soon became frightfully obvious what changes were make in Rex’s transformation was of something more horrifying in nature having him transform into a scaly creature that could have evolved and existed between dinosaur and caveman a Mannosaur. Williams left Bay City after due to the many sighting of the people of his city had of his newly given powers even though the Mannosaur or lizard man as they called him was considered somewhat of a heroic creature attacking only those attempting to engage in criminal activities the Military’s special extraterrestrial team lead by Air Force Major Ted Harris soon became a problem along with Rex’s former Paleontologist teacher and employer of Bay City’s historic museum, Professor Samuel Connors searching for the mysterious creature hoping to prove his theory about modern man’s prehistoric missing link.

It was midsummer the mountains of between North and South Dakota were clearly visible with clouds drifting aimlessly over head. the heat was almost humid, if not for the passing breezes moving through the mountain passages. Rex Williams had traveled some distance from Bay City heading west toward California on foot stopping in other townships to do what work he could find in order to continue his travels with his alien mentor, Nicohdamus for ever nearby in the shape of either an owl or a hawk soaring gracefully overhead. Williams had a fairly huge backpack in it was something he could use as a makeshift tent along with a few cans of food he would cook over an open campfire. Camping out was not something new he and Professor Connors had done it on several occasions while traveling throughout the world searching for fossilize bone to take by to Bay City’s prehistoric section of its museum. He was now traveling along more open countryside with fewer cars driving with some distance to go before the next township. Some hours later a dusty red truck works its way along the seemingly endless strip of road soon stopping some yards ahead of the wary traveler.

Hey. What are you doing way out here alone in the desert heat? The man remarks hanging his head out of the driver’s section of his truck. This is no place to be not to mention this time of day with such heated conditions.

Just trying to reach the next town, that’s all. Williams could tell the man was Native American his long ponytail and features was a dead giveaway. Climbing from his truck the man meets the young man half way then gazes on the surroundings.

I am a man of trust and from what I can tell you seem to be someone looking for a place to rest his wary feet as well as use a job. There is a forestry service not far from here the owners are eager to have those willing to work help out.

That sounds about right at this moment. The name is Williams, Rex Williams.

David Running Deer. Jetting his hand outward. Hop in and I will take you there if you are interested in work. It wasn’t long before both men were on their way in the direction of the small but well known forestry company fifteen miles away.

The company was called Boulder Forestry Service who was now hiring on new workers the pay wasn’t much at least not worth the amount of work that was done and the accommodations were for those who loved the outdoors. Lodge cabins dotted the forest landscape old but dependable trucks could be seen working their way through the dense trees to the open yet unimproved roads. John Boulder and Amy, his wife of thirty years a Caucasian couple and truly country folk owned the company often teased about their last name and the business they ran. John was in his late fifties his wife Amy five years younger. They were fair minded and treated everyone just as they would want to be treated. The company was small, compared to their larger competitor, Baker and Donaldson.

The Boulders and often had run-ins with the other forestry company. One of the reasons was the fact their work, although seemingly much alike, was different. Jack, as the called John Boulder, was working to improve the area and cut as fewer trees as probable. His goal was to clear only the trees that would eventually die or cause problems for the surrounding area. Oliver Baker, who was now the head owner of his company, with the death of his partner Pete Donaldson was doing it basically for the money displacing local Native Americans nearby.

The employment line leading to the Boulder’s camp was a long one. Men and women who had lost their jobs in some factory or just needed money to make ends meet, stood waiting to sign up. A jeep slowly works its way through the narrow uneven dirty road, to the camp site, with an elderly man at the wheel beside him set a young male of mixed descend. The jeep soon comes to a halt not far from the line of men and women, waiting to be seen. Rex Williams turns thanking the old man, who had given him a lift along the road. Williams left Bay City, a city on the East Coast to make his own way and start his life new. His work with the City’s museum as an assistant to framed Paleontologist Samuel Connors and his team of Extraterrestrial Life Investigative Team Explorers, ELITE for short, had caused problems in his own life. With back pack in hand and a wary look showing on his face Rex moves in line.

All right, all of you. A loud bellowing voice yells out. This is no joy ride and it’s not for those who thing this is a camping trip. We’re talking long hours of work and plenty of dirt. The man strolls along the line, as if he was in the military, and in fact he had been. He was Ace Thomas, known as the town’s bully and worse when he was drunk.

Thomas was a burly man in statue. Ace’s full face beard and pock-mocked face, was no improvement to his looks. He was the stereotype lumber jack, belly and all. As the group move closer to the cabin where Jack Boulder was seated, with pen and application forms, Thomas continues his casual stroll then stops next to a man standing silently waiting.

You. The man faces him. "What are you doing here?

I am here for work.

You’re one of those Indians from the Reservation, aren’t you? Thomas closes the gap between him and the smooth bronze skin man. I haven’t seen one of your people yet work as good or as hard as some of these people who really need the work.

That’s because you haven’t hired any. The two men stared each other down for a moment, before another unemployed man stepped in.

Leave ’em alone, Ace. I know this man. He’s a good hard worker and will more than likely do better than you. I’ve known Daniel Sills for more than seven years, so give ‘em a chance.

He better be what you say he is, or you both will be out of here. Thomas and the man name Daniel exchange finally glances before, Ace strolls down the line.

As the line slowly grows shorter, with some of the willing men and women being either being hired or turned away, Rex turns his sights to the sky. His act soon has others doing the same. Everyone standing with him noticed a hawk hovering silently overheard. His wings spread majestically and circling the tress tops. He’s a beauty, isn’t he. A woman remarks.

Yes. Sills smiles as he holds his hand over his eyes, to shadow out the sunlight. "It is as if he is looking for something.

He’s a duck hawk. Rex replies, smiling then turning to Sills. He’s a little out of his environment.

How would you know this? You study birds.

Some. Rex extends his hand. The name is Rex Williams. You are?"

Daniel Sills. So you study wildlife. From looking at you, you seem to have Native American blood lines.

I do, along with West Indian if that counts in as well. Williams turns his eyes on the sky again, then moves slightly from his place in line. Sills stood watching as his new found friend reaches for his backpack to place it on his shoulder. It was at that time John Boulder emerges from the cabin. He couldn’t believe his eyes the hawk stopped circling and descended downward, landing on Rex bag.

Sills. That’s amazing as if you owned him. Williams strokes the bird’s head and smiles.

I do. His name is Nicki. He’s been with me for a long time.

Well, you just be sure you keep that feature duster away from the rest of us. Indian… always tampering with things they don’t own. Ace Thomas faced Rex with his remark, but Sills known it was a stab in the back directed toward him. He steps between him and Williams with balled fists.

All of us are here for work and I can see why you can’t get the help. It’s your mouth and your attitude. This man has done nothing to offend you.

Perhaps, you would like to show how badly you need this job. Before either of the men locked themselves in combat, John Boulder’s voice caught their attention.

Ace. Get your filthy mouth and dirty disposition into the cabin. I will deal with you later. Thomas turns cowling like a whipped dog. Boulder then turns to both men apologizing for his half wit Foreman.

Thomas sometimes thinks he is still in the military. He means well at times… this is not one of them. John Boulder, proud owner of this small but humble forestry company. I noticed what you just did there, son. Turning to Williams and still admiring the hawk with its fawn brown and white coloring. He’s yours?

Yes, sir. You can say he found me, instead of the other way around. We’ve been close ever since.

Amazing. Not many people have a hawk or any wild animals just take to them, like that.

John turns to Daniel, placing his hand on his shoulder and giving it several light pats. It’s good to see old friends, Daniel. I all ways said, if there is anything I can do just ask. So you want to work for me. Things must be kinder rough for you and your people.

Things are slow. Sills was a proud man, but not proud of his heritage. He had started using Daniel Sills as his name and found it a bit easier to find work, up until now. Most of the people in the surrounding were familiar with him.

Boulder then returns his attention on Rex and his hawk. I hate to say this, son. But some folks around here, don’t care much for Indians. Now, just looking at you. I couldn’t tell if you were or not. If you’re looking for honest work and fair days pay, you’re hired.

No background check? Williams chuckles, slightly.

No, son. If you can lift, pull and fit. It’s yours. Of cause I don’t take kindly to criminals, but you look like an honest person. Just sign in and I will get you and Daniel a lodging place.

Thomas stands by the window of his cabin, looking on both Sills and Williams with hatred in his eyes. He had a long term dislike for any of Sills people that was passed down to him by his ancestors before him. Daniel shared some of that hatred as well.

The Boulders built their company cabins with the help of others in the township, many years ago. Most of the people who helped develop the camp site, were either deceased or went on to other goals. The lodges were made from the very trees that were cut down in the area. They were heated by old pot belly stoves, seated in the center of the room with six beds, three on each side. It was a lumber’s dream, in some ways. John not only hired people for logging, but mechanical work as well. His trucks often needed maintenance, with their mileage and years, so there were jobs to be had. Rex was now settled in. What belonging he bought with him, went neatly in the cedar wood trunk, lying at the foot of his bed. Nicki, his hawk, stood parched on one of the cabin’s ceiling beams looking down.

Williams. Sills way lying face up on his cot, when he spoke. What did you do, before coming here? I may ask.

Paleontology.

A doctor in a hospital? Williams leans over pulling back the sheets on his bed. There was a smile on his face, unseen by his inquiring friend.

No. A Paleontologist is a person who studies fossils… you know. Dinosaurs and other life forms of the past.

Sounds interesting, but perhaps a bit boring.

Williams. It can be, at times. Fluffing his pillow. You would be surprised what types of reptile life once roamed this part of the country. We’re talking huge massive creatures. Well, some were. I have a question for you. Why does this foreman hate you so much?

Daniel pulls himself up then braces his back again the head of his bed. His eyes wander for a bit before focusing on the young Afro-Indian, as he called him. Ace Thomas’s family was supposed to have settled in this part of the country. According to what he would tell you. My people raided and killed off most of the settlers, except for a few members of his family. You know how history paints things. He’s not the only one who feels that way there are more, so get use to running into some of them.

Rex cuts his eyes on Nicki still nestled in the ceiling with features fluffed. For a moment both he and the bird of prey stare on each other. I am still fascinated with you having such a fine hawk. My people have long forgotten the ways of man and beast, joining as one.

Animals distrust mankind, with good reasons. Rex slid slowly under the covers, drawing the ends to his face. We hunt them down for no reasons, except for trophies. We have taken their land, so to speak, and left them with little to thrive on. Why do you think there are so many animal attacks on humans? You of all people should know about that. History is now uncovering the human destruction one both man and animals.

You have some collage, don’t you?

A little. Williams replies. You don’t need a collage degree to know about that. It’s common talk. Reaching for the lantern he had been provided by John Boulder then turns it out.

The cabin was now almost pitch black except for the moon’s soft glow peering through the window at the far end of the cabin. Both men were fortunate there were only two other men sharing their dwelling.

Hey, Williams. You think one day you’ll tell me about your work and why you left it?

Sure. And stop calling me Williams, just Rex. We’re coworkers and friends.

The following morning the forestry crew was up and preparing for their first day on the job. Sills and Williams kept close, something Ace Thomas noticed. The forest was filled with the sound of chain saws, truck engines and men and women moving about. They were removing a section of old worn out trees, some that had fallen due to a violent rain storm. Daniel was a strong and muscular man and built like a football player. His long raven black hair was pulled back and swayed like a rope, when he bent over. He had cut more lumber then almost any of the other workers and showed his worth ten times over. John Boulder and his wife Amy drove up in their pickup truck with enough homemade food to feed their crew. Amy’s familiar call, come and get it reaches the ears of the hungry workers.

Who is she? Rex wipes his brow. Sills pauses laying the chain saw down.

That’s Ms. Boulder. She’s a nice woman and easy to get along with. Of course I have heard she is just like her husband, at times. She takes no stuff off of any man or woman.

Ms. Boulder was not a country woman. Rex could see she had been pampered a bit. Her hair never appeared to be that of an outdoors person, all way in place and fashionably worn. Her skin was smooth and well kept, along with her almost physical appearance a picture of fine health.

Now, I made some home made sweet potato pie, to go along with the corm bread flap jacks and maple syrup. There’s fresh roasted coffee and some hot apple cider, for those who don’t like caffeine.

As the line begins to form around the truck, Ace Thomas nudges his way to the first of the line, with his crusty coffee cup. "Gee, Ms. Amy. This is awfully kind of you. Some people aren’t us to this