How I lost my purse at Jurassic Park

Today: Okay, I don't have a lot of time, so I'll make this quick. Lavine was right. I just couldn't keep away from the place, after all I'd seen, there was just no going back to Kenya at this point. I needed to get another look at those things, I needed to understand, and I needed to get my purse back. A lot of people just don't understand how important it is for a woman to carry the right purse. Most men think it's just to hold cosmetics or car keys. But a purse is much more than that. It's a symbol, a token of civilization. It means there's still a place out there, where the lights of Broadway shine, cocktails are chilled, and men still light cigarettes for women. It's been said that it's surprising how much one can do without the necessities of life, if only they have one of its luxuries. Mine was a Vera Wang clasped opera bag with an Estes' Lauder make up kit. It cost three hundred and eighty dollars at Sacs 5th Avenue, and I have never used it once. I just like to know where it is. With Eddie gone, Thorne wasn't in the mood to discuss Isla Sorna or anything of the kind. I felt bad having approached him on the boat, but I think it was obvious to him he would eventually have to help me. He knew I had to go back, and that nothing would stop me. All he could do was increase the chances of my returning alive. So here I am, still at the San Jose airport, logging another entry. Five months earlier: Of course I returned, only this time I wasn't going in unprepared. I got a room in San Jose. It would take weeks maybe more to acquire all the supplies I'd need. I phoned Makena back in Kenya and told her to have a portion of my funds deposited in New York. An orange hazy sunset laid down on the African plain. From the front porch of their stone cottage, Makena could see across the open savanna to a ridge of low hills on the horizon. A herd of bison in a far off valley shimmered barely visible in the heat and glow of the last rays of sunlight, kicking up dust and settling down for the night. The African plain missed Sarah Harding. It was not quite the same without her. Makena missed Sarah too. A week had gone by and no word from Costa Rica. She said she'd be back in a few days. But Sarah counted days like most people count minutes. When she said "days" it really meant a month and sometimes more. There was one telephone in the house. An old 1940's Bell Labs rotary, black, with a faded brown center label with four numbers on it. It rang. "Si, Sarah Harding residence, Miss Harding? , Sarah?" "Yes it's me Makena, how are things back home?" "Oh Sarah, we all miss you. When are you coming home? The birds keep calling your name." "That's what I'm calling about. Listen Makena, I..." "You're not coming back are you." Makena held back a tear. "Well, not right away, listen I've discovered something here, something I can't even explain, but if I leave now, it might not be here tomorrow, so I have to stay in Costa Rica for the time being. In fact I can't even tell you why, but I promise you, I will come back. That's all I can say right now. I'm going to move some funds around, and I want you to take some of it." "No." "Yes, you must trust me on this one. I know we have had some close calls before, but this is different, and I can't risk involving anyone else in this matter. I know what I'm doing, even if I shouldn't be doing it." "What will I tell the others?" "Tell them we will meet again soon. Besides, I forgot my purse." "Oh, Sarah, you take care, the house will be the same as you left it. But Africa will not like this. She will be envious and jealous of you." "Africa will have to wait." Harry's The bar at the San Jose Holiday Inn is about the only place to pass time. Waiting on Thorne turned out to be excruciatingly tedious and boring. I can see why so many rush to the island, convincing themselves that they are capable and prepared. There's no such thing as "Prepared" in The Lost World. I had Thorne whip me up a few extra devices that I knew would be needed. My plan was to not even set foot on the island. In fact I'll be on a boat anchored off shore and just take a raft to the beach. From there I'd just take a mountain bike or walk it. I also had Thorne make me a Lindstradt rifle, two pistols, (one on each hip) and two satellite phones, because one of them always breaks. After that I figured I'd set up base camp back at the InGen complex where we first saw the chameleons. It's my objective to observer and document their behavior and to discover exactly how the are able to regulate their camouflage so effectively. Ian told me how the Raptors on Isla Nublar were much more socialized and even well behaved and disciplined by the adults. I still wonder why the ones on Isla Sorna are so vicious, uncooperative, feral! Across the bar I see Newt Huffman. "What's he doing here? Cruising for milfs probably, or a job. What a loser." Three more beers and I'm ready to go back to my room, another night of waiting for the phone to ring, to jump into action. A girl could go crazy waiting. At least there's some spring breakers in town. A couple of them don't look too bad. I wonder if a scent would attract them. "Another beer Harry". "Corona and lime, 10-4 Sarah" One of them approaches "Make that two", and lays a fifty dollar bill on the bar. An unwrinkled American fifty. I pull out a cigarette and press it to my lips. He produces a blue Bic disposable and lights it... He's mine! Ten hours later, wow, don't under estimate sub adults! A couple of moments I had visions in my head, still back on the plain, the mating rituals of Lions, Tigers, snarling, biting... Whoa. Too bad he has to leave tomorrow. Oh well. Probably better that way. Don't want to fall in love just now. I can't. Napkin Math By the time Thorne finally called I had almost given up on him. I counted the days in beers now. One in the morning, then one with lunch, then three before bed time, sometimes more. That's five beers a day for the past two months. I've been waiting for 300 beers. On my 301st beer Harry brought me the phone from the other end of the bar. "Call for you Sarah." "Thanks Harry," "Hello?" "Sarah, Thorne here. I called the bar in case anyone's listening. You're all set to go. We rendezvous tomorrow, day break, at Isla Seguridad. It's an atoll seventy five miles South West of Sorna. You can't see it on the map but it's there. It's as close as we can get inside Costa Rican waters without getting arrested. If they catch you with this stuff, we don't know you okay? It's bad enough I got sued shitless by Eddie's lawyer, no body, and all that, eaten alive, can't say as I blame them, so..." "I understand, look I'm just going in to see what went wrong, and if there is any evidence they are escaping. Maybe this is the least I can do, hell I don't know, maybe I'm just going crazy Thorne." "Look Sarah, I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll go with you, maybe as far as the beach head or something, I don't know, those things, those god damned things." "I know, no, you don't have to do that, I'll be fine, I trust you, I'd ask Ian but." "Sarah." "How's he doing? Does he still ask about me?" "He's up to 30 cc's a day. Wont come out of his room. He's writing Chaos theory now, wild crazy stuff. They say he's brilliant, but insane. I think he just uses it as an excuse, you know, the addiction." "God damn it Thorne, he needs me." "Nobody can help him Sarah, he has to want it. Nobody can tell him what to do. Not even you." "You just be there in the morning." "Okay Sarah, you got it." Puerto Playa The boatmen at Puerto Playa were accustom to me by now. Puntarenas was becoming over run by tourists and weekend scholars looking for a glimpse of some fashionable new tourist island, something secret, something dangerous. With all the traffic it was becoming apparent it was no longer the safe haven for anonymous travel anymore. On more than one occasion the passengers would be questioned before entering the terminal. Constable Martinez was a dark good looking man with a mustache and just a touch of gray on his side burns. He wore a crisp white uniform and shorts and was known around town for tolerating a somewhat moderate amount of vice as long as it was "moderate", yet had a reputation as basically being a tough but honest member of the Provincial Police Corps. He was charitable and harbored a special fondness for the villagers and peasants living in the surrounding country side. He knew the importance of tourism, but also the impact it had on his country. "Where are you going today?" "Porta Vaca for some fishing?" "And what kind of fish will you be trying to catch?" "Um, maybe a..." "Yes?" "Um, oh, of course, Skipper Jacks." "Hmm very good, Skipper Jacks are very common to these waters, do you prefer bait or a spear gun?" "Spear bait, I mean, hook guns, I..." "You have no tackle?" "Rent?, I rent it." "You rent baited hook guns for hunting Skipper Jacks in Porta Vaca Miss Harding?, sounds quite challenging. You wouldn't by any chance happen to be looking for other species as well? You know these rumors circulating the islands, about strange animals, they are all local 'folk lore' are they not?" "Oh, but of course, who would believe such things anyway Constable?" "Then maybe you wont be opposed to reminding some of your friends, there is nothing to see in Costa Rica. Please proceed." That was the last time I used that port. I suggest everyone else stay away too. Thorne's help really paid off, and I had at least one surprise of my own. Waiting in my hotel room wasn't a complete waist of time. I still had eBay. Turns out Ultra-lights are really cheap and easy to ship. I ordered two of them. I kept one at a U-Store-It, and one under a tarp at a beach about fifteen miles south along the coast. It's deserted, so no one touches it. I finished my beer and headed up to my room. I still had about 10 hours to sleep and get ready to leave. Everything was already laid out, but I also know the importance of sleep. I dozed off to the taste of salt and lime. Isla Seguridad, 64x202x163 longitude, 202x163x11 latitude. I didn't even need to write it down anymore. That was the coordinates Thorne had given me in a coded message. "It's just an atoll Sarah, easy to miss in bad weather. Be careful." I packed the Jeep and headed out under a starless night sky. Everything is wet and covered in a layer of dew. Insects dart through headlight beams as the Jeep silently embarks, leaving behind a wake of swirling mist. Nobody drives these roads in the morning except an occasional farmer or priest. When I arrived, the Ultra-Light was just as I left it. Under a tarp in a small clearing only ten yards from the beach. I pushed her out, lined-up and started the engine. It kicked over on the first try, checked my watch and scanned the horizon looking for any "company". One last breath, "I can't believe I'm doing this,... again." "What were the coordinates?, oh damn," I forgot, and didn't write it down. "Get out, get out of the damn cockpit now." The inner Sarah did not comply. At full throttle the craft easily became airborne and was actually going a little too fast for Sarah's taste. She eased back on the accelerator, and checked her position again. Accounting for wind and drift, she estimated to start out South West with a smidgeon of "English" on her port side. That way even if she was off by a little, she'd have a tail wind tacking north. The day started as a black horizon with random lights on the water. Fishing boats sometimes used candle lit lanterns to draw squid to the surface. As her plane sputtered South West, the sky grew lighter until the entire ocean beneath her turned into a giant pallet of crystal clear blue waters. "Unbelievably gorgeous" she though to herself. "At least I'll spot the island." A good 2 hours into her flight and the gas gauge was still nearly full. You could get almost a whole day out of this contraption. A super highbred of carbon fiber and the latest in Kawasaki two stroke engines running on high octane. Could go for days. Blue waters gave way to shallow turquoise, then an occasional mound or crescent of sand. "Right on course." Sarah could easily see Thorne standing on the atoll waving his hands. Next to him sat several large crates and two boats anchored in the sand. Sarah set the Ultra-Light down after only one pass. She unbuckled, lifter her visor and stood next to her vehicle with a grin waiting for Thorne to bestow compliments on her cavalier entrance. "Holy cow, nice wings. Where'd you get 'em." "eBay." "Ah, you get insurance and delivery confirmation?" "Yep, PayPal discount too, I'm shrewd." "Sweet. Good to see you again Sarah, listen this trip..." "I know, don't worry." "Okay, well, I got all your stuff. Let me give you the crash course." Thorne crossed the beach. He didn't grin or try to brag. He was worried and wanted Sarah to know everything, about everything, all at once. "This is where you'll be staying. Aluminum hull PBZ class inboard. It's got two radios, just like you asked. Also there's this." Thorne pointed to a large box under the control console. "Everything runs off of this power unit. It's got a solar panel, batteries, and it recharges off the engine. You can take it out by pulling these two buckles right here. Take it to the beach, camp, whatever. It's also got a built in radio, GPS locator, and detachable tracking device so I know where you are at all times. Don't lose it. I don't want to find it in a pile of dino droppings. Then there's this. Lindstradt 2's. I modified them the way you wanted. A rifle, and two pistols. Both are loaded with X13, and are powder charged so they cant lose pressure. But they are going to travel a lot faster Sarah, it will be loud as hell. You'll hear it from a mile away." Sarah marveled at Thorne's workmanship. How could so small a thing be so deadly and yet beautiful, like jewelry. Sarah could almost understand why men like playing with guns, and shooting things, but she could never do it herself, unless under extreme medical conditions, but even then. "Sarah, are you paying attention? Now look here cause this is important." Thorne produced a small metal device that looked like a snow globe. A small sphere mounted on a square pedestal. "This is something Ian came up with. It generates an electric shock to anything around it. You have to be touching the sphere to be grounded. Malcolm calls it the Edge of Chaos Device. But be careful. It only lasts for one shot." Sarah held the object almost in disbelief. "How - how does it work, I mean that's not possible, is it?" "We don't know how it works. No one does. Even Malcolm isn't sure, made it during one of his episodes, you know." "Well, I doubt I'll need it." "Also two mountain bikes. No gas, no electricity, no noise, no smell. No one will ever know you're there, and no fallen trees or a herd of dinosaurs to block your path either." "Nice!" "Anyway, there's also this. A Flergendorf reverse parachute. Good for tight spots. It's like a hot air balloon only for one person. Wear it like a back pack, pull the rip cord and swoosh. The whole thing self inflates with compressed gas. It was meant for last-ditch rescue attempts but even the Coast Guard considers them too dangerous, but I know a guy. "Wow, good idea. I wonder what genius thought of that one?" Thorne waded knee deep toward the rear of the boat and pointed. "A Zodiac raft with a radio, tracking monitor, flares, rations and an extra pistol. You can use this to paddle ashore, or, it also has an electric motor in case of an emergency, but it still needs air to float. Don't let anything bite it or you'll be swimming back to the boat. Also the kids made something for you. This is a lap top you can use to tap into the InGen network if it's still running. We downloaded their software from Lavine's PC so you should have admin access across the whole network." "Just what I asked for and more." "Okay, well, that's about it, enough food and water for a month, desalinization, first aid kit, wireless internet, and there's a bottle of Scotch in the glove box." "Thorne I don't know how to thank you." "Just go do what you have to do Sarah, find out what's happening, put a stop to it..." Thorne got back in his boat and headed for international waters. "...And save some of that Scotch for me when you come back." He said he would stay clear unless something went wrong. Which means he'd keep a close watch on radio traffic for the next few days, especially for certain coded numbers. The PBz Thorne had really come through for me. The boat was fashioned after an old 60's PBR shallow draft cruiser with a one man cabin and canvas top. The motor was made to be especially quite and reliable. Plus it had one other built in option. A retractable sail. I covered the waters to Isla Sorna in one day. A wind from the West picked up while securing the boat and it was all I could do to remain anchored. The island looked like it had been there waiting for me, patiently, since the last time I saw it. Cold, austere and looming. As night fell the air grew unusually cold and dry. I remembered the last time I had met these waters. I didn't dare attempt a beach landing until the weather cleared. Lighting stuck, but it was far in the distance and passing. A power bar for dinner, and a sip of Thorne's Scotch. The memories of Africa fade into sleep, only to be mixed with a new scene, other animals, darker, not to be unveiled until, tomorrow. Morning broke. Gulls screeched. Sarah stretched and yawned. The Island in the distance, still there, always there, but friendlier now. Inviting. Its volcanic cliffs warmed by the rising sun, purple against a clear blue sky. She scanned the island with binoculars, not a soul in sight. Quickly, anxiously, like a kid on Christmas morning she got ready to paddle her Zodiac to the cave and walk through a jungle full of dinosaurs. Everything checked and rechecked. Some things were intentionally left behind. "Gotta pack light". When the Zodiac was full she paddled toward the island but the current carried her East. Her meager attempts to fight the Pacific swells proved useless and she resorted to engaging the electric motor. And that was just to get back to the boat. It would take another four hours for the tide to change. More waiting. "Where's a spring breaker when you need one?" By early afternoon there was a perceivable shift in the direction of the wind. The tide was shifting. Sarah climbed into the raft and paddled to shore. "My, amazing what a change in current can do." Within a few moments she landed on shore, not far from the boat house. The island. Quiet and green with puddles and beams of sunlight, the constant murmur of insects, birds and an occasional roar. Her first task was to conceal the raft. Tucked away in a nook surrounded by boulders it was virtually out of sight and not likely to attract attention by any but the most inquisitive of Tyrannosaurus Rex's. A check of the mountain bike, check the radio, check the Lindstradt pistols, check the laptop. Check, check. The Lab Mission one was to observer the InGen facility and see if it was still generating power. The thermal engines were still functioning, but most of the computers and monitors had clicked off, lost power or crashed. Some of them needed to be restarted, some rebooted, and a few were dead. Of the monitors that worked, one was fixed on the T-Rex nest. It was vacant and grown over as if abandoned. Strange totems The first thing I wanted to check was the T-Rex nest and see if there was any evidence that the infant we treated was still alive. I checked the remote cameras and determined all trails were clear. Most of the large herbivores were clustered in their own groups near the South and West side of the island. Where ever there was a water source, and enough open range to offer early detection of approaching predators, herbivores were usually there. And not a sign of the Raptors. I wonder where they could be. N I took the mountain bike and started down the Ridge road taking the fork to the left leading to the T-Rex nest. When I got there it was empty, like it had been abandoned for some time. Something else was odd though. Stuck in the middle of the nest was a wooden post about 5 feet high with a crude smiley face carved near the top. Around it, the nest looked like it had been burned and scattered, intentionally destroyed. I searched the surrounding area and found a rib cage. I think it was the male. Not sure what happened. Maybe a lightning strike, maybe a brush fire. I checked the security camera for damage and straightened its angle of view just in case anything should return. What happened to the T-Rex I wonder. The ride back to the lab was quick and easy. Nice to have a Cannondale for a dirt path on a sunny day. When I got back to the lab I checked all the monitors, still no sign of the Rexes or Raptors. No Chameleons either. I decided to call it a day and make camp. Base Camp Base camp is clean and dry and offers a spectacular view of the valley. It's basically an overhang in the face of the North cliffs. Don't try to find it. You have to be a pretty good climber to get up here. A loose gravel slope leads up to the base of the cliff. Large predators would lose their footing and slide backwards downhill if they tried to come up here. Then it's a vertical climb 30 feet up to a slim crack in the rock wide enough for one person, and a series of foot and hand holds leading up to a ledge large enough to walk across. At the far end is a small inlet about 30 feet deep. A small spring of fresh water runs down the back wall which I have tested and is safe for drinking. Beyond camp and on top of the cliffs is an area of steam vents and small pools of water. One pool, about 4 feet deep with a temperature of 106 degrees, is a perfect Jacuzzi. A girl could get spoiled in The Lost World. Day three Raptors are not active and I see no indication of their presence anywhere on the island. I will attempt to observe their old nesting grounds. My plan is to approach from the Southern cliffs looking north. Of course I'm bringing a radio and two pistols. I took the Ridge road again, this time heading almost all the way down to the boat house, then cut over to the right, across the river, to the tree line below the South ridge. From there it's a short hike up above the trees and over to a spot where I could safely observe the Raptor nests. By mid afternoon I found a smooth level area in the cliffs and readied the binoculars. There was no sign of life anywhere and all the Raptor nests were empty. "Skunked!" I was beginning to wonder if the Costa Rican Government had already "cleaned" the Island. It was almost a relief. As long as I was there, I had a light lunch and continued to survey the area. Again some herbivores could be seen near where the old High Hide used to be, and along the valley river, but as of yet, no carnivores. By late afternoon I gave up and returned down the cliffs and got on my bike. I decided to stop at the raptor nest on the way back. I followed the river North keeping to the left bank, always cautious and always with my Lindstradt pistols close at hand. I had told Thorne to remove the safety locks but he said it was a bad idea, so I drilled them out anyway. There is no such thing as "a safety" in The Lost World. Stakes and claims N Upon reaching the nest it was clear no Raptors had been around for a while. Searched for clues as to their fate and found nothing, until I notice a wooden post stuck in the ground, about 6 feet high with a skull on top of it. It was a raptor skull. Someone else was here. Below the skull someone carved the character of a distorted human face, like a tiki torch, or Mayan rune. Weird! I photographed the area and was careful not to leave too many tracks of my own. Who ever made these totems did it some time ago, but I didn't feel like sticking around anyway. The last thing I expected to find was the Raptor pits. I almost rode into one. Poachers and bush meat hunters in Africa sometimes used tiger pits to catch large prey. I was accustomed to spotting them from a distance. I'm always stumbling upon range animals caught in snares and death traps of this kind. The pits were dug in staggered formation along the side of the game trail. About five feet deep with sharpened bamboo chutes stuck in the bottom. The remains of a dead Raptor lay in one of the pits. Someone was hunting them, and apparently, claiming territory of their own. With daylight drawing to an end I decided to head back. With luck I'd be at the lab before sunset, and safe at home in the cliffs in time for dinner. Day five. Contacted Thorne on the sat-phone and gave him a full report. Lavine and the kids say Hi. Still no sign of the Raptors, but I heard them last night from across the island. I now know there are a few of them still alive. My main goal today is to see if I can find any signs of the Chameleons. I'll try and spend the night in the compound and use the night vision goggles to scan for heat signatures. Compound is still undisturbed. No prints or evidence of dinosaurs anywhere. I set up a stand on top of the old manager's bungalow across from the main building and have the night finders mounted on a tripod pointed at the ridge road. If anything comes this way I should be able to see it. The first night nothing happened so I tried it again the following night, and again after that. Finally on the third night the chameleons appeared. Sixteen feet high maybe 1500 pounds, maybe one ton, an alpha male and two sub adults. They entered the compound from the North and paused for a moment sniffing the air, then moved on, past the old trailer and to the other side of the island. I didn't dare move or even take a photo. In the trees on the road they are a soft black, utterly undetectable, and in the compound they turned a pale blue and gray, the same color as faded aluminum siding. What are they? Where did they come from? Of all the animals I've ever seen, they frighten me the most. The next morning I picked up the trail of the chameleons. Large three toed tracks in single file. It lead into the trees and cut straight North back to the river. The North end of the river ends in a swampy delta surrounded by high dense thickets and marsh. I imagined for a second going in there, then decided against it. I decided to head South and see what was left of the High Hide. The trip was somewhat eventful. Observed a pack of Kentrosaurus escorting two Stegosaurs crossing the river about mid way down valley. Took several pictures and continued to ride right by them. They didn't seem to notice me. N The High Hide was partially disassembled. Pipes and pieces of cable lay on the ground. A tattered shred of canvas flapped in the breeze. I kicked around in the grass hoping to dislodge a chance bit of debris when I saw it. Nailed to a tree in plain sight was a human skull and what was left of two cross bones. Underneath that, carved into the trunk was a human face. Just like the one at the Raptor's nest. How many deaths had there been on this Island? Maybe the legends are true. They Remember It was getting late so I rode up to the Ridge road and headed North. Didn't see the Pachy's but there were clear signs they had passed this way. Swatches of trampled brush straddled the road. Trees broken off at the trunk. Their signs are unmistakable. Half ton bipeds that like to ram things. I wondered if they would charge the Cannondale, or if I could out ride them. As I approached the main compound the sun had already set and I could easily see up ahead, someone had turned on the lights. The compound was lit and the front door to the lab was open. I veered off the road and approached on foot. When I reached the first building I went around back and crept up to the manager's bungalow before deciding it was safe to peek around the corner. What I saw was impossible. There inside the building were two Velociraptors. They were watching the security monitors. One of them called, and the other one ran out of the building, stood in the road and issued a complex series of screams and yelps, then ran back inside. This continued for thirty minutes or more before I heard responding calls from across the island. They were trying to find something. A chill ran up my spine. I had never felt, never imagined, the implications, well, it was too much to consider at that moment. I had a job to do. The moment the Raptors left I got on my bike and headed North. Home. I got on the radio and reported what I had seen to Thorne. He said I better get out of there. For once I agree. Day - unknown Decided it was time to leave. All in all, the trip proved to be uneventful and I was just plain scared. "Don't press your luck." It seems most of the large herds and groups of herbivores had diminished. What remained were a few isolated pockets with little or no interaction between them. It seems Lavine guessed right. A final balance was eventually struck on the island between the predators and prey. The Rexes had been wiped out by something, and it appeared as if only a few Raptors remained. I got on the bike and decided to take one last look around the compound before heading to the boat. How many days on the island, I was beginning to lose track and I really needed to wash up, splurge on a hot meal and a soft safe place to sleep. As I entered the compound, I noticed the door to the main building was still open but some, thing, had turned off the lights. Something moved. A man ran out wearing a tattered white shirt and shorts, boots and a long un-kept beard. He was carrying a piece of equipment. He crossed the road and disappeared into the factory. I froze and immediately unclasped the holster of my pistol. Dumped the bike behind a shed and followed. I opened the factory door and peeked inside. A large room with three doors. He walked through the first door, down a hallway, and turned down a flight of stairs. As quietly as I could I followed him and came to another hallway running the length of the factory. At the far end was a reinforced iron hatch labeled "Boiler Room". I approached and listened. No sound. I turned the handle ever so slowly and looked inside. The hinges creaked, steam floated over the door jam, the smell was terrible. A steel ramp lead to the boiler room floor. Two giant tanks sat rusted and silent. Next to that, a man sitting at a work bench fawning over a piece of equipment. He had only one arm. He wore an InGen lab coat tied at the waist with palm fronds. Boots with no laces. Those boots. "Oh my God!" The man froze. He chuckled to himself and continued working. "L-Lewis, is that you?" My heart froze, my hand resting on my pistol. "Eggs. Do you like my eggs? I've been collecting them you know." The place was a hovel. It looked like he'd been hold-up here for years. Along one wall was a collection of dinosaur eggs, dozens of them. Some broken and filled with spider webs, some rotten, some still fresh. Pieces of broken shells littered the floor. The place smelled like death. "Lewis, what the hell happened to you?" "Would you like an omelet? I make exquisite omelets you know." I took a step back. "Lewis, how long have you been here?... Dodgson!" He continued to tinker with his machine, half talking out loud, half talking to himself. I snapped the holster strap back over my pistol and walked over to him, bending down on one knee to appear less imposing. "Lewis, it's me Sarah Harding, do you remember me? Can you tell me what happened here?" "Well of course I do Sarah. But I'm busy now, I've just gotten a new egg and I need to catalog it for my collection, can't you see? I have to get the eggs Sarah, aaall the eggs." Dodgson's voice trailed off, he turned back to his bench and continued examining the machine. "You're probably wondering why I'm still alive? Thought I was a T-Rex sandwich?" "We thought you were dead. What happened, how did you manage to stay alive?" "I found one of your pistols near the high hide. Killed the male but the female went for the gun. It went off and killed her, but she took my arm with it. I got her back though. I got her eggs. I'm collecting all of the eggs." "Lewis, we can take you out of here. We can take you home. You don't have to stay here anymore." Dodgson looked around his room. His hand pulled way. Sadness and confusion on his face. A rat scurried across the floor. "But what about my eggs?, I can't leave them." "You can take them with you Lewis, it's okay." "I would like to leave but I don't think I can. I'm the fifth death. I can't leave the island. No one ever leaves the island." Dodgson had totally lost it. In common parlance, Gone Native. He had gotten off the boat. I wasn't sure whether to take him with me, or just leave him to serve out his own self imposed sentence. The poor broken shell of a man. "Lewis, I have a boat here. Let's go for a ride in the boat." Lewis squirmed in his chair. It looked like he only weighted about 100 pounds. Sun-burnt, dirty, one lens of his glasses broken out and replaced with a piece of cardboard. I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Look Lewis, let's go for a ride and if you still want to stay, I'll leave you here okay?" I lead him by hand as he stood, and stepping backwards, guided him out of the room. Chaos Once outside, I gave him a radio and my backpack. He would ride on the seat and I would peddle. I did a quick scan of the security monitors before leaving. The coast was clear. Then one more thing. I entered the bathroom and sure enough sitting on the counter next to the sink was my purse, right where I left it. The trail ride to the boat house went faster than expected, the grade being downhill most of the way. Finally encountered a herd of Pachysephalosaurus crossing the same stretch of the road where they had surrounded the Explorer. Naturally they blocked the road. I rode around them and -click- took a picture. Lewis shrieked. I wonder if any of the Pachy's recognized him. A little further down and we were almost to the boat house. Crossed the river slightly down stream and peddled the last run to the cave. That's when I saw the Zodiac. It had been dragged from its hiding place, ripped apart, and lay on the ground in pieces. Then we heard them, the Raptors. They had waited for us to enter the caves, a narrow gully with no retreat. I immediately came to a stop, looked around, un-holstered my pistol and prepared for an attack. No use trying to out run them. The first ones appeared from behind so I knew more than likely there would be two more up ahead, flanking us from the left and right side. Too late. A Raptor appeared from the left. Before I could get off the bike and turn, it had plucked Dodgson off the seat and was carrying him away. I took aim and fired. Bang! Direct hit, only this wasn't the usual Fluger air cartridge, it was a modified good old fashioned Smith and Wesson 10 gauge shotgun shell. It not only shot a needle into its target, it injected the entire capsule. A fat toxic slug! THWA-TUNK! A dull thud, and a beer can size hole spit pink mist and tissue from the Raptor's hind quarter. It fell forward, Dodgson tumbling from its grip. What the Raptors had not expected was the enormously loud BANG! The sound was deafening. It's underestimated how loud guns can be. No wonder people wear earphones at the shooting range. My ears rang. Lewis was mumbling something but I couldn't hear him. The Raptors stopped dead in their tracks. It wasn't death that made them fearful, it was the sound that caused it. The Alpha Female called to a male. It obeyed and began circling left. It charged. Bang! Another direct hit. The Raptor fell forward, its chin skidding in the dirt. A gurgle of green foam oozed from its mouth. The alpha female called again. This time -all- the raptors began circling, always cautious, ducking away from the gun. I took aim at the alpha female and fired. Bang! She darted sideways as if expecting it. A cloud of dust kicked up a few feet away. "Missed!" I fired again, missed, no, winged her, but the cartridge didn't break. She stumbled. I fired again, Click. "Empty." The Raptors crept forward. I picked up Lewis by the shoulders, spun him around and reached into the back pack. "What are you doing, shoot them, for God's sake, shoot them!" "Hold on! we can't shoot them all." "What?" I dug to the bottom of the bag, feeling around, the calls and delirious screams of the Raptors getting closer and closer. I grabbed the sphere and drew it from its canvas sheath. A glint of sunlight sparkled from its metallic surface. "Hold on to me." I grabbed Dodgson's hand, touched the sphere to the ground and pressed the red button. "What the hell is that?" "Ian Malcolm says Hi." The sphere vibrated and set off a high pitched whine like the sound of a turbine engine at full speed. It rose from the ground and began to glow, vibrating, I could barely keep my grip. Then the sound abruptly stopped, the sphere became perfectly motionless, the raptors had arrived. ZAP-BLAMO! The sphere went off and emitted an expanding dome of blue electricity. When it hit the Raptors they all froze in mid air and lit up like neon Christmas trees with bolts of electricity streaming from their claws and teeth. The dome expanded and vanished. The Raptors collapsed in heaps on the ground. An ear spitting clap of thunder rolled up the valley walls, flecks of pulverized grass floated in the air, then all was silent. Lewis's beard was pointing straight up. My ears rang. Not a bug, bird, or sound. Dead quite. Steam rose from the nostrils of one dead Raptor. Another one twitched. "We have to get out of here, quick, before they recover." I put on the back pack, grabbed Dodgson by the hand and off we ran to the beach. If we could just make it that far we could swim back to the boat, or I could come back for Dodgson, either way, our time was running out. We passed the Zodiac, even the life vests were shredded. A hundred yards to go but already I could see some of the Raptors had regrouped and were still following. We reached the cave entrance, the Raptors gaining on us. Only one escape route left, we jumped in and began to swim. Dodgson had to hold on to my back pack. I hadn't counted on the current working against us. It became obvious after only a short time the tide was pushing us back. The Raptors stood on the shore just waiting for us to come floating back to them, they jumped and jeered, so cruel, yet I felt sorry for them somehow. "We can't make it, I'll have to go back." "Sarah don't leave me." The current pushed us further and further back, twenty yards, ten yards, I could barely keep my head above water. I kept kicking and kicking, always further back, the raptors snarling and hissing, some jumped in the water, they were swimming toward us. Dodgson screamed, he panicked, he put his arm around my head trying to climb up on my shoulders. "Lewi..." garbble garbble. Cough, "Lew..." garbble. Underwater, I drew the other Lidstradt and prepared to fire. I considered shooting Dodgson. A pair of Raptor legs appeared from out of the gloom. I pressed the muzzle against its thigh and fired. BLAMBUB! Blood and fragments clouded the water. I was quick to back away. My head finally broke to the surface. "Lewis!", -wheeze- "get the hell off me or I'll shoot you!" Lewis fell off with a splash. We kept drifting back. At the mouth of the cave waiting on the bank stood a pack of Raptors 7 strong. "Lewis, hold on to me." I grabbed Lewis and slung his arm around my neck. "Don't let go." As soon as we cleared the mouth of the cave I pulled the rip cord. The Flergendorf Reverse Parachute, I was still wearing it. A click, and an instantaneous plume of super heated gas inflated a giant polymar balloon. It almost jerked away from me. The balloon slowly lifted. Once airborne we seemed to stabilize at just above twelve feet. "Not high enough!" We were too heavy. The Raptors went into a frenzy. "We have to lose some weight." I kicked off my boots. "Lewis, drop your eggs." "No." "Yes, drop them or we'll die." He dropped them. We rose another ten feet. The eggs hit the ground and splattered. The Raptors were so enraged, they began circling under the balloon, snarling, hissing, biting each other. One of them bit itself. "Lighter!" I groped through the back pack discarding everything. Radio, binoculars, dropped my gun belt, maps, then finally the back pack itself. As fate would have it Dodgson was incredibly light. We floated above the Raptors and upon clearing the top ridge of the cliffs, picked up an ocean breeze that guided us South East, past the mouth of the cave and over the ocean. When the PBZ was within sight, I hit the release valve and we drifted slowly to the water below. A perfect splash landing. I swam Dodgson over to the boat and pushed his skinny spent ass on board. He fell to the deck gasping. Then he leaned on his one good arm and looked me straight in the face. "I'm sorry, I," "I know Lewis, it's okay. Just take it easy, You're safe now." I called Thorne and reported all that had happened. He asked me if I wanted to rendezvous with him back at the atoll. I told him I'd take the PBZ to the main land and drop off Dodgson at the nearest hospital. Thorne said he wouldn't hear of it and demanded that drink of scotch. I couldn't refuse. That night the ocean stilled and was unusually clear. Every star in the galaxy came out to play. Thorne's boat approached from the North. Lavine and the kids were with him. "SURPRISE" I waved and maybe jumped for joy a little. We tied up and had drinks on the deck. Everybody wanted to hear the latest news, even though it had only been a couple of weeks. There was still more to be learned. The kids had documented the trip from the reports I sent back and already had it posted on their web site (under fan fiction), and Lavine couldn't be contained. He seemed almost jealous, trying to hog credit for the expedition (which actually turned out to be a rescue operation), but Thorne was interested to know how well his gadgets performed in the field, and just glad to have everyone back, safe and sound. The night passed. Stars that had been overhead were now watching us from the west. I fell asleep somewhere in a far off place, listening to the sounds of stories and soft whispers and the sea. The next morning we were awaked by Police sirens. A Provincial Donzi interceptor was visible on the horizon, headed directly toward us. Before I could get up and start hiding things, it was very nearly at our side. Standing on her bow was Constable Martinez. I tied them off. "Good morning miss Harding." "Constable Martinez, what, ha, what a surprise?" He had a grin on his face. He knew he had caught me red-handed. "The fishing has been good in these waters? I see you have quite a catch. A physics engineer, two paleontologists, and who's this over here?" Dodgson still lay sleeping on his side. He rolled over and rubbed his eye. "Ah, a local?" "Yes, he was um..." "Hmm, that is quite a catch, but maybe you should have thrown that one back." Dodgson sat up but said nothing. "Maybe we should take that one for you, we have been trying to catch one of these for a long time, a Mr. Dodgson isn't it? We heard about this one, but could never catch it, very rare, elusive, as you may well be aware. Martinez issued a command in Spanish. Two very capable looking officers came to the bow. "Permission to come aboard captain?" "Constable, I gave this man my word we would deliver him safely. I promised him I would take him home. He cannot possibly be any worse off." Martinez studied Dodgson's face, and missing arm. "I'll tell you what I'll do Miss Harding. I'm going to grant you a... temporary license to fish around this island. I will hold you personally responsible to report any of your findings to me directly, and I don't want you to share your favorite spots with anyone, is that understood?" I nodded ever so modestly. "This catch you have now, I will let you keep it, but this one here (nodding at Dodgson), if it is ever caught in these waters again..." Dodgson gulped. "Is that perfectly understood Miss Harding?" "Yes constable, understood." The officers retreated back to the helm. Martinez gave a signal, still standing at the bow, the police interceptor turned and sped away. I turned to a very nervous looking Thorne. "I want you to take Dodgson with you. He needs medical attention, and," "What." "He's not quite, the same as..." Dodgson moaned. He looked around suspiciously, then muttered something and went back to sleep. "Right Sarah, but what about you, are you going back to Kenya?" "Yes, but not right away. I think I have an understanding now with Martinez. I still have supplies for another month or so, maybe more if I ration it out. There are some unanswered questions still on that island. The chameleons mainly, and something else." "What's that Sarah?" "I forgot my purse." The End