Raven's Gate

stopped right in front of him. He could see through its eye sockets, all the way into its skull. Its mouth was open, revealing ugly white triangular teeth, each one coming to a vicious point. It wasn’t breathing – it couldn’t – but even so, Matt could smell its breath. It stank of sewage and decay. In the far distance he heard the clattering of feet, the rattling of bones. Richard was silent. The dinosaur craned forward. It seemed to be scenting him, or perhaps sensing the pulse in his neck. Now it was only centimetres away. Matt wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He was certain the creature was about to attack. Was he just going to stand there while it ripped out his throat?
    “Matt? Where are you? Are you all right?” Richard’s voice echoed from the other side of the hall and the lizard creature twisted away and lumbered off in that direction. So Richard had been right. The dinosaurs were blind. They needed sound and movement to find their victims.
    “I’m OK!” Matt shouted back. He didn’t dare add more.
    “Can you get out?”
    “No! I need the keys!”
    The keys were lying on the floor beside the stairs. Richard peered through the mist and finally saw them and lunged for them. At the same time a squat, solid-looking creature charged towards him, a single horn protruding from its misshapen skull. Somewhere in the back of his mind Richard remembered the creature’s name. It was a triceratops. Fortunately it was slower than the others and it was moving clumsily, slipping on the marble floor. Richard snatched up the keys before it could reach him. Overhead, a second pterodactyl had joined the first. The two of them were performing a ghostly dance, wheeling over one another, high in the air.
    Matt was still by the door. Richard could just make him out behind the wall of mist, but for a moment he disappeared as more ghostly shapes drifted between them. It was impossible to be sure how many of the creatures had been brought to life, but no matter how many of them there were, none was more dangerous than the diplodocus, which remained at the very centre, looming over the others. There was no way Richard could get past it. But he had to move. If he stayed here much longer,
something
would find him. It might fly down from above or lunge at him from behind. A sudden snap of teeth. The slash of a claw. Death was everywhere and he knew it would come for him very soon.
    And then the diplodocus swung its tail. It moved almost lazily. The great mass of bones whipped through the air and Richard gasped as it crashed into one of the columns. Broken marble and masonry rained down in a billowing cloud of dust. It was only now that he understood the full horror of his situation. Although they were only bone, the dinosaurs were as strong as they had been when they were alive. If they wanted to, they could bring the whole museum crashing down.
    “Richard!” Matt called out and the diplodocus turned, searching for him. The pterodactyls peeled apart and joined the hunt.
    “Take the keys!” Richard cried. “Just get out of here!”
    He raised his arm and, with all his strength, threw the key ring at Matt. The keys flew over the diplodocus and hit the ground on the other side, skidding the rest of the way. Matt leant down and grabbed them.
    “Come on!” he shouted.
    “Get out!”
    “I’m not leaving without you!”
    “Just open the door!”
    Matt knew Richard was right. Maybe opening the museum would in some way short-circuit the magic that had brought the dinosaurs back from extinction. Maybe he would be able to call for help. There were six keys on the ring. He picked them up and forced the first into the lock. It wouldn’t move. He jerked it out and tried the second, then the third. None of them worked. It was almost impossible to concentrate on what he was doing. His hands were shaking. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to watch out behind. He managed to insert the fourth key. But before he had time to try it, the tail of the diplodocus brushed against his shoulder, enough to send him flying. It felt as if he had been hit by a truck. Bruised and dazed, he staggered to his feet, lurched back to the door and turned the key. At once a bell began to ring and a red light flashed somewhere behind the writhing mist. He had set off the alarm! At the same moment the door swung open. He was free.
    But where was Richard?
    The journalist hadn’t moved. He had heard the alarm and knew that the door must be