Predatory Instinct: A Thriller

by Michael McBride

ABOUT PREDATORY INSTINCT The fossilized remains of a previously unclassified hominin species are discovered in the Altai Mountains, prompting teams of scientists from around the globe to converge upon this isolated region of Siberia in search of further evidence to corroborate the revolutionary theory that a third proto-human ancestor coexisted with Neanderthals and primitive Homo sapiens. What awaits them is anything but extinct. FBI Special Agent Grey Porter leads the investigation into the mysterious circumstances surrounding the appearance of a factory trawler of Russian origin off of the Washington Coast. He finds twelve bodies, all of them exsanguinated through ferocious bite wounds on their necks. According to the manifest, there should have only been eleven. Whatever killed them is no longer on board. Elena Sturm of the Seattle PD is assigned to patrol the waterfront renovation project on Salmon Bay. While rousting the homeless from the underground warrens of the massive construction site, she stumbles upon the corpse of a man whose wounds are identical to those of the victims aboard the ghost ship. Something has cut a bloody swath across the Pacific. And it's already here. PREDATORY INSTINCT

What but the wolf’s tooth whittled so fine The fleet limbs of the antelope? What but fear winged the birds, and hunger Jewelled with such eyes the great goshawk’s head? —Robinson Jeffers

“You have to fight the battles you can win, Layne. Don’t let them beat you. And don’t let them change you. There will always be more battles.”

Good piece of advice.

She could hear the attenuated sounds of the workers banging and clanging topside as though from a great distance. The ground shivered ever so slightly underfoot with their exertions and dirt cascaded from the fallen roof.

I like the rich detail in writing. It helps to envision her every step of the way down the corridor before she finds herself in front of an underground maze. Where could the figure she saw ever be? Let's hope she does not encounters it in this chapter.

“You believe me?” she said. “I thought for sure . . . I mean, I was certain you wouldn’t . . . ” “I kind of thought we’d grab some coffee or something on our first date, but skulking around under condemned ruins will work, too.” “What?” Her face flushed red beneath the coat of grime. “This isn’t a—” He offered his most disarming smile and a wink. She merely stared at him for a long moment before the corner of her mouth curled into a smirk. “Do you enjoy pushing people’s buttons or are you simply helpless against the urge?” “Depends on the person, I suppose.”

Not a spoiler, nor is a romantic story, but I thought this was too cute to not share between a police officer looking for help from a FBI agent. He already have been in two crime scenes with her and he was the only person she could really trust.

That was fun. Maybe this day wasn’t going to be a total wash after all. He could still have plenty more fun before the day was through. He’d poked the hornet’s nest here. He could almost hear the men inside already starting to buzz. Only time would tell what would boil out. In the meantime, he had a couple of calls to make. It wasn’t fair that he should be having all of this fun by himself. He could think of at least one other person who’d be happy to join in.

Porter and Sturm sounds like Fox and Scully to me. This is nice.

Banging. Louder. “Christ,” she croaked. Her throat was bone-dry. “I’m coming already.” She staggered into the hallway and crossed through the living room to the front door. The thin wooden slab shook with a solid blow from the other side. “This had better be really flipping important.” She opened the door and found herself a foot away from Porter, his fist raised to knock again. He stared at her face and her mussed hair, then his eyes traveled down her body. She glanced down and realized she was only wearing her bra and panties. “I’m thrilled to see you were expecting me,” he said with a wink, and brushed past her through the doorway. He had what could have been a dry-cleaning bag slung over his shoulder. It almost looked to her sleep-addled mind like he was wearing a cape. “Please. Come right in.” She glanced out upon the gray day and saw just the faintest hint of scarlet through the clouds to the west. “You mind if I grab some clothes or have you come to ravish me now that our partnership is officially over?” “Yeah,” he said. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, yeah . . . I would mind if you got dressed. I have something special for you instead.” “You certainly know how to charm a girl. How about this? I go back to bed, write this whole thing off as a bad dream, and maybe we can try again some other day when I’ve actually caught up on a little sleep. Maybe start off with dinner and a movie and see where things go from there.” “I have a better idea.” “You already menti...

Wow what a nice read that was. Sturm and Porter do sound like Scully and Fox! Too bad is only one book they are in. I am going to enjoy it till the end!!!

He had isolated the main power line on the street and rigged it with a small charge of C4 rigged to a timer. At precisely ten o’clock, the charge would blow, killing the power to the center, extinguishing the lights. And then, he knew, the creature would come. Complete darkness. Prey huddled together. Helpless. Simply waiting for the lights to come back on. Spears would be able to see it all perfectly. The moment the screaming started, he would be able to sight the monster down the barrel of his rifle and put a bullet right through its skull.

Spoiler: Now I see how he would pull this through by killing the power and making the monster more susceptible to attack. Spears is the real monster here, after how he setup the law enforcement agent and FBI that I did not expect. To him other's peoples lives are expendable. He only cares about himself what a psychopath he is.

They were seated under the gazebo tents, all business set aside. Soft music drifted across the patio from inside the building, a pleasant undertone to the clanking of serving trays and the more subdued rumble of conversation. Stewards tipped cloth-wrapped bottles of champagne with their trademark flair, never once making eye contact. The steaming cuts of meat and fish smelled positively divine. A cool breeze flowed inland from the sea with barely enough strength to ruffle the tablecloths. The stars shined down upon them from a night sky so clear it appeared incapable of ever producing rain.

Nice scene and prompt.

Porter scooted around toward Sturm’s head and leaned down over her face. “You hang on. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare quit on me.” He kissed her on the forehead. Her skin was cold against his lips. He watched her eyes for any sign of acknowledgement, but saw none. There was a smear of blood on her cheek that almost looked like . . . “Back away!” the first paramedic shouted. “We need to get her on the rig right now!” Porter leaned closer. The girl hadn’t been going for Sturm’s throat or the blood gushing from her shoulder.

Spoiler: Then for what? I guess I'll find out soon enough what the girl was going after. Was she trying to save Sturm from the gunshot wound that was meant for her! It was actually a bloody kiss she placed on Sturm's cheek that only a child with small lips could give. What a sign of affection, she have become attached to Sturm (Police officer woman) & let Porter (FBI agent) caress the side of her face, the only male allowed to do that perhaps only other than her paternal figure. Sturm and Porter are the only two that have won their trust to her. </3

“What do you say we get the largest cups of coffee we can find and take a stroll on the beach?” he said. “It’s like you can read my mind.” She took his hand and leaned against his shoulder. Soon enough they would have to determine what was left of their professional lives, but, for now, they fully intended to enjoy every moment exploring each other.