Alan sat down at his desk and opened the bottom drawer, in which he kept the satellite telephone. It had been provided by John Hammond to use in an emergency, such as sudden, debilitating illness or serious injury, or some other unexpected overwhelming, or catastrophic event. He had never had occasion to use it, and had not even anticipated having to use it at all. It was merely a lifeline to the outside world in the unlikely event that it should be needed. He knew that the elderly Scotsman was hoping for periodic progress reports, details that Alan had not provided and had no intention of providing.
Reaching into the drawer, he picked up the phone and the piece of notebook paper underneath it containing various phone numbers, including Miguel�s number, Mark Degler�s number at the State Department, John Hammond�s number, and that of the Costa Rican coast guard. The phone was kept fully charged, and ready to be used, yet he hesitated, gazing at it with a reluctance he had not expected.
Sending Ellie away from that island, away from the danger, was the right thing to do. She had no business being there. He had not invited her. She had simply taken it upon herself to join him without seeking his approval. Safely at home, she would eventually recover enough to remarry and have a family to replace the one she had lost. She would be better off.
He punched the numbers on the keypad with his forefinger, then immediately placed his thumb on the "end" button, disconnecting the call before it went through.
Leaning his elbows on the desk, he stared at the telephone, surprised by the rush of emotions that had seeped into his conscious mind and had caused him to terminate the call he knew he should make.
Outside, the wind howled and the rain continued to pound the structure. It was a sound he was familiar with, for he had endured many such storms since his arrival on the island. As violent as the storm was, it could not compare with the storm that was raging inside his heart and within his mind. Sentiments and emotions he thought had died within him years ago resurfaced with such dizzying impact that he felt stunned and confused by the depth of his feelings for her.
He could not recall a specific moment when their relationship had started to come apart. Neither had been unfaithful to the other. There had been no arguments, only a gradual disconnection that had occurred with little notice by him. Always wrapped up in his work, he had failed to notice that she was unhappy with the fact that their relationship was not moving forward. Even when he finally realized that their relationship was in jeopardy, he had never actually believed she would leave until the day she had packed her belongings and boarded a plane bound for Arlington. Even then, he had believed it was a temporary separation, and that she just needed some personal space. She would visit her family, look up old friends, and then she would eventually return to him. She had never come back, and he had not gone after her.
The separation had stretched into a year, but still it had never occurred to him that she would become involved with someone else until he received a letter stating that she was getting married, and inviting him to attend. Of course, he had not been present for the exchanging of vows. He had tried to convince himself that he was not hurt by her engagement to another man, and he had graciously sent his congratulations and best wishes along with a nice gift, but with those sentiments he had included his apologies that he could not get away to attend the wedding. The unspoken truth was that he could not bear to watch her exchange vows with someone else. He had spent her wedding day on a dig site, trying to ignore the sympathetic glances from his students and co-workers who understood the source of his short temper.
From that day forward, he had thrown himself even more deeply into his work. By then, the incident in San Diego had made worldwide news, exposing InGen�s remarkable accomplishments and its terrible mistakes, and Alan was vividly aware that his career as a paleontologist was in peril. Every waking hour was consumed with his work, trying to accomplish as much as possible before paleontology became as extinct as the true dinosaurs. He had no time for socialization or self-pity.
His experience on the island the previous summer had revealed a new interest in the living creatures waiting to be studied, and he knew he was the man to accomplish the task. He had no personal attachments and no distractions to divert his attention from the work.
Until now.
Ellie�s presence would surely complicate things. Her frail condition required attention. It was certain that he would be unable to convince her to remain at the dormitory whenever he was in the field. She would expect, no demand, to go along, and he knew that she would slow him down. The last thing he needed was a responsibility that could distract him to the point of endangering his life or hers.
He sighed, heavily. As much as he tried to convince himself that it wasn�t so, the truth was undeniable: He liked having her there. He enjoyed her company, her input, and her enthusiasm when he described his work and when she viewed the animals. He did not want her to leave.
"Dammit."
Annoyed with himself, certain that he was making a serious mistake, he returned the telephone and the phone number back to the desk drawer and pushed it shut. He would not be making the phone call that day.
Removing his journal from the corner of the desk, he opened it up and began to inscribe the day�s events, carefully cataloguing everything they had seen and done, the encounter with the raptors, and the placidness of the Ankylosaurs during the impending tempest, struggling through the startling crashes of thunder that occasionally caused him to reflexively jerk his pen across the paper, marring the appearance of his records. He cursed his own jumpiness. Storms had never bothered him that much before, and he was forced to admit that it was not the storm at all. It was Ellie, her nearness, that had so thoroughly distracted him.
Finally, he gave up on the task altogether. It would keep for another time, a quieter time when his nerves were not on edge. He closed the journal and set aside his pen, then rose from his chair and walked down the corridor to the living room again.
Ellie still occupied the sofa on her left side, facing the backrest, apparently asleep. For several moments, he stood in the doorway, watching her right side rise and fall with her steady, even breathing, and as he watched, he had to resist the urge to go to her and take her into his arms to declare that his feelings for her had not changed, and to apologize for allowing their relationship to crumble. He had missed her more than he even wanted to admit, and he desperately wanted to speak those three simple words that were so difficult for him to say; I love you!
In the end, he turned away, reminded of the fact that she was another man�s widow, that her husband had died only three months prior. To declare his love for her would be inappropriate, even if he was able to say those elusive words.
Restlessly, he moved into the kitchen, and stood for several moments in the middle of the room, trying to find something to do. The breakfast dishes were still piled in one of the sinks, waiting to be washed, but they would only be adding the supper dishes to them, soon, so he ignored them.
Well, he supposed he could get supper started. He opened the refrigerator and looked over the packages of meat she had brought. One of them contained a small roast, something he had not enjoyed in a long time.
Perfect.
Locating a large, non-stick roasting pan in the storage area beneath the work table, he placed the roast in it, added a little flour, some water, a packet of dry onion soup, some additional seasonings and a variety of fresh vegetables from his garden, covered it with aluminum foil, and put it in the oven. In a few hours, they would have a tasty, nutritious meal.
Ellie awakened to the tantalizing aroma of roast beef and vegetables drifting throughout the building. She rose up on her elbows, her stomach responding eagerly to the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen as she listened carefully. The storm had moved on, leaving a steady, garden-variety rain shower in its wake. Alan had reopened the windows and the front door, allowing the sounds and cooling effects of the shower to enter the building.
Then, with a twinge in her heart, she suddenly remembered: He had told her he was going to call Miguel to take her back to the mainland. An overwhelming sense of dejection fell over her like a dark cloud, wishing he had been more receptive of her company and her desire to help him in his research. Just when it seemed he was beginning to warm up to her being there, her frailty had become an issue and his demeanor had changed in response to it. She knew he was afraid she would become a hindrance to him, a danger to his life as well as hers.
She sighed, heavily. Can you really blame him? she asked herself as she arose from the sofa. If it becomes necessary to run for our lives, there is no way you could keep up with him. And you know him; he wouldn�t leave you behind!
She stepped into the foyer, pausing to gaze outside through the barred door that protected her and Alan from predators. The air that was carried inside on a mild breeze smelled clean and refreshed, and the rain pattered on the front awning and ran down the drainpipes. The landscape looked stunningly beautiful in the rain; the foliage seemed greener, and the nodding fronds, heavily laden with moisture, bowed toward the ground waiting for the shower to cease.
She stood at the door for a long time, just listening to the rain and watching it as it fell. It was a peaceful, soothing sound that had always calmed her nerves, but it did nothing to ease the sting of knowing that Alan did not want her there. She knew he could not physically force her to go. She had permission to be there. But did she really want to remain where she was not wanted?
You have to stay, she was reminded by that insistent inner voice. He�s in danger.
Moving away from the door, she proceeded down the corridor and entered the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway and a smile played around the corners of her mouth at the unexpected sight of seeing the world-renowned paleontologist bent over the open oven door. Unaware of her presence, he pulled out the rack and removed the foil from the pot and laid it aside on the countertop.
"Smells good," she said, trying to sound cheerful, even though her heart wasn�t in it.
He turned his head to look at her, pleased to see that she looked revived by her rest. "Feeling better?" he asked as he reached for the salt and pepper shakers. She noticed that his voice and demeanor were more pleasant than before.
Probably because arrangements have been made to get you out of his hair!
"Yes," she replied, ignoring that persistent voice as she watched him sprinkle salt and pepper over the items in the pot. Should she inform him that she had no intention of leaving the island; that he would have to tie her up and carry her if he intended that she would meet the plane at the landing strip? He seemed in no hurry to bring up the subject, so she moved closer to the oven. �What are you cooking?�
�Pot roast, along with some home grown vegetables,� he said, proudly. �A steady diet of my fresh vegetables is guaranteed to help get you back to your former self.�
She stared at him, startled, but he avoided her gaze, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary. However, she understood that his statement was his own casual way of letting her know that he had not called Miguel, after all. She could only marvel at this complex man, wondering why he had changed his mind when he had been so adamant about sending her away.
Even though he was fully aware of the nature of her thoughts, Alan kept his expression totally neutral as he gave the salt and pepper dispensers another shake then, satisfied that they were sufficiently seasoned, he replaced the foil, pushed the rack back inside the oven, and closed the door. �We�ll let that cook another hour or so,� he said. �I�m glad you brought all that meat with you. It gives us some additional meal options. There�s a grill out back. We�ll grill some steaks or hamburgers sometime, or maybe some of those chicken breasts.�
�Mm, sounds good,� she said. �We can throw some of those veggies on the grill, too.�
Thunder rumbled in the distance as the storm continued its progression away from the island, and they listened until the last of it faded away. �Unfortunately, it looks like we won�t be able to enjoy that sunset from the deck, after all,� he told her, regretfully. �Oh, well. There will be plenty of other sunsets to observe.�
Again, there was that reference to her remaining on the island with him. She wondered why he couldn�t just come out and admit that he had decided against placing that phone call, but she chose to say nothing. Apparently, he was willing to accept that she would have a few bad moments, but that she would also be an asset to him if given the chance.
Because of the weather, they ate supper in the dining room this time, and after supper was finished, they returned to the kitchen to clean up.
�The water barrel is just outside the back door,� Alan told her, leading the way through the adjacent room where she saw a long bank of washing machines lining one wall, and driers lining the other wall. �As you can see, they thought of everything that would be needed for basic housekeeping. Obviously, they didn�t send their laundry out.�
�I�ve been meaning to ask you,� she said. �Since there�s no running water, how do you wash your clothes?�
His smile was sheepish. �I�m afraid that was something I didn�t even think about when I first arrived. Then one day I found myself with no clean clothes, so I had to decide what to do. I checked out these appliances, and remarkably, all I had to do the get two of the washers to work was make a few simple repairs and replace a few parts. Obviously, without running water, you can�t rely on them to automatically fill the tubs with water, so you have to fill them yourself and turn them on. They go through all their preliminary functions, like they�re trying to fill themselves with water, then they start agitating. The driers were more of a problem, but I�ve got one of them in working order, so I cleaned it up and checked the exhausts and everything to make sure it�s safe. If it conks out, we�ll have to drip dry.�
�I have to admit, it�s a relief that the washer, at least, works,� she admitted. �I rather imagined you putting your clothes into a wooden tub and using Grandma�s wash board!�
He laughed. �Well, life here is rather primitive, but it isn�t quite that primitive. Fortunately, everything that requires water, except the bathroom, is right here at the back door, so I don�t have too far to carry it.�
He picked up a plastic two gallon bucket that sat on the drier nearest the exit, and opened the heavy metal door. Like the front door, a barred outer door protected the residents from unwanted intruders.
�I feel almost like I�m in prison,� he admitted, as he unlocked and opened the bars. �Seems like there could have been a better way to quarter the workers, but I don�t know what it would be unless they erected a tall electric fence around the compound, and we know all about the effectiveness of electric fences!�
Two large barrels stood side by side outside the door. They were covered, but a drain pipe from the eaves emptied their contents through a small opening in the lid.
�The drains are covered with mesh to keep leaves and other debris from getting into it. I have to clean them off every now and then.�
He lifted the lid on one of the barrels, and Ellie saw that it was almost completely full of water. Dipping the bucket into it, he filled it with water that was surprisingly clean and clear, and carried it back inside.
Once inside, he set the bucket down on the tiled floor and turned back to the doors to methodically close and lock them again.
�That is the most important thing,� he told her. �Making sure the doors are always locked. No matter what you are doing, even if you�re only going as far as the kitchen to dump the water, always make sure the door is locked. It�s too easy to forget. That is the number one priority.�
She nodded her willingness to comply with his rules, understanding that he was giving her survival instructions. She knew she would hear many more as the days and weeks progressed.
With the door securely locked again, he picked up the bucket and carried it to the kitchen, where it was emptied into a large pot on the stove and turned on the fire beneath it. �I always bring it to a hard boil because of the possibility of bacteria in the water.�
�Too bad there�s not a stove upstairs to heat the bath barrel!� she quipped.
He smiled. �Believe me, that thought has crossed my mind! Dowsing yourself with water that�s been sitting at room temperature is quite a chilling experience! You get your bath over with really fast!� He chuckled. �You�ll never quite get used to it. I�ve even carried heated water up a few times, but it�s a nuisance and it�s hard to go up the stairs with it. Water is heavy.�
�Have you thought about filling up a tub down here in the kitchen? Surely there�s some kind of tub around here that�s big enough to accommodate a human being, and you wouldn�t have to carry it up the stairs,� she suggested.
�Yeah, but then you have to empty the tub. It�s easier to stand in the shower stall and let the water be carried away by the drain.� He paused, observing her quietly for a moment, deciding that he would do anything in the world for her. �However, if it pleases you, I can see if I can find a tub for you to bathe in down here. I�m sure there�s one in the storage shed.�
�No, that�s okay,� she said, quickly, suppressing the urge to shudder. �I guess I can tolerate it.� You�ve been living in the lap of luxury while you were married to Mark, admonished her inner voice. You�ve grown soft!
While the water heated on the stove, the roast, the vegetables and the broth were placed in containers and stored in the refrigerator for a future meal.
�I�ll see what I can do with the leftovers tomorrow,� Ellie said. �I should be able to make some excellent roast beef sandwiches for tomorrow�s lunch, and I�ll make the broth into some gravy to pour over them.�
�Sounds good.�
When the water had boiled for a sufficient amount of time to kill any bacteria that had taken up residence in the water supply, Alan turned off the heat and emptied the pot into the basins with a cloud of steam. They allowed it to cool until they could tolerate the temperature, then they worked together to wash, rinse, and dry the dishes, including the ones they had left from breakfast, and return them to the cupboards.
With the kitchen chores completed, they went into the living room, and Alan flipped on one of the small lamps, electing to keep it on the lowest setting. A radio sat on one of the lamp tables, a method of keeping up with the world events, but he did not turn it on.
Ellie selected the sofa and sat down, folding one leg beneath her, thinking that Alan would sit down beside her, but instead, he pulled one of the chairs closer to her and sat down facing her, crossing his ankles on the coffee table. Idly, she recalled the time she had put her feet up on the coffee table at home, and Mark had admonished her severely, declaring that the item was a gift from his mother and should be properly cared for.
She averted her eyes, pushing the thought from her mind. She did not want to dwell on the bad parts of her marriage.
For a long time, they sat listening to the night sounds through the open windows, comfortable with the notion of just being together again after so many years. Years earlier, Alan would have sat beside her on the sofa or reached out to hold her hand, or she would have placed her hand on his thigh, just to be touching him in some way, but of course at this point, it would have been improper to indulge in that type of intimacy. She wondered if those same thoughts were on his mind as he leaned back in the chair and folded his hands across his abdomen. Wearily, he closed his eyes.
The rain had moved away from the island, leaving behind only a few sprinkles. They could hear it running down the drainpipes, and trickling off the eaves, peaceful and soothing sounds, as Ellie pondered the events of the day.
In spite of the close call with the raptors, she had enjoyed her day with Alan, and believed that he had enjoyed it, too. The familiarity they had once shared would return in time, but for now, she was content just to be with him. She felt a joy in his presence that she had never felt with anyone else, including Mark, a fact that caused her heart to constrict with guilt. She had loved Mark, had married him, had borne him two children, yet she could not deny the truth: She had always been in love with Alan. He was truly the love of her life. In spite of everything that had happened in their past, she believed firmly that she and Alan were meant to be together. Buoyed by the fact that he had not summoned Miguel, she wondered if perhaps he was starting to believe that too.
Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a question that had been puzzling her all evening. "Alan, why didn�t you call Miguel?"
He opened his eyes and turned his head on the headrest to look at her, but he did not answer immediately, his silence indicating that it was a complicated matter for him. When he finally did speak, his answer was spoken quietly, worried that he had made the wrong decision. "I know sending you back would have been the right thing to do, but the truth is I didn�t want you to leave."
"Why?" she asked, her surprised voice barely above a whisper.
Again, there was that long pause before speaking, as if he did not want to reveal his thoughts on the issue. But he did answer, and he answered honestly. "I�ve enjoyed your company. I didn�t realize just how lonely I really was."
It was an unexpected confession from him, one that lifted her heart with joy, but she also felt sympathy for him as she thought about his isolation from the rest of the world. "Seven months is a long time to be completely alone."
"I was alone a lot longer than that, Ellie," he sighed. "Even when I was around other people, I was so obsessed with my work that I kept everyone I knew at arm�s length for a long time, not allowing anyone to get too close. I had no time for anything except my work. I guess you know that better than anyone."
She nodded, silently, wishing it had not been so, for it had driven a wedge between them. "What about that young student? Billy? You seemed to let him get close to you," she pointed out.
"Not really. I tolerated his presence, but I never really let him get that close, either. Billy is about as subtle as a foghorn. He understood what was going on with me, and knew that I was retreating into my work. If I tried to ignore him, he just kept after me until I took notice. His persistence would make me furious, but I knew he cared, and that meant a lot, even if I never could tell him." He shook his head. "It�s a pity that our profession is growing extinct. He would have made a great paleontologist. He�s the kind of student every professor wants to carry on in his place. Well, at least he�s still young enough to change his major. There will be a lot of opportunities out there for him. He�s very smart."
"You care about him a lot," she observed.
He nodded, slowly. "Yeah, I do. I can�t even express how angry and disappointed in him I was when he stole those raptor eggs last summer, but I know he only did it to fund my dig site. He knew how desperate we were for money, and he learned a valuable lesson about this place. If he ever comes back here, he�ll know to use more respect when dealing with these animals. He�s probably the only one that I would have trusted to come here, besides you."
"Do you think he will ever come back to the island?"
He nodded. "If other paleontologists are ever allowed on this island, he will be at the head of the line."
�Why didn�t you invite him to come with you?�
�I preferred to do this on my own, but even if I had considered the idea of bringing him, when I left he was undergoing some reconstructive surgery. He was torn up pretty bad by the Pteranodons.�
Reminded of the flying creatures that had investigated the plane when she had first arrived, she said, �Speaking of which, what about them? Are they likely to leave the island?�
He nodded his head without lifting it from the headrest, and she smiled at the way it made his hair stand up in back. Fine wispy strands of it clung to the fabric of the chair. �I don�t know why they haven�t left yet, but eventually, yes, I believe they will. Right now, they seem content to roost in the cliffs near the shore, but one day, one or more of them will make that flight to the mainland. And all hell will break loose.�
�Is there anything that can be done about it?�
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. �To be honest, I have no idea. The only way to stop them is to kill them or somehow tranquilize and capture them and return them to the cage. At some point, I guess I�m going to have to go closer to the coast and observe them for awhile, but the truth is, I�d have no shelter there, so I don�t know what to do about it. It�s the same situation as it would be with the mountains. There are things I need to see, but the risk factor is too high.�
�How did they manage to live inside the cage with no one to feed them?� she wondered.
�The cage was erected over a large canyon that encompassed a huge stretch of the river. They probably lived on the fish that they caught and smaller animals that wandered in through the bars. I tell you, my heart jumped up in my throat when I first saw them. I just couldn�t believe what I was seeing. You must have seen them from the airplane.�
�Yes. One came up close to the plane for a look, but it flew off without bothering us. Are they a danger to us?�
He nodded. �To some degree. One of them was able to carry Eric Kirby back to its nest, but it was unable to lift Billy more than a few yards off the ground. Their body structure is simply too light to carry an adult of normal weight.� He was gazing at her critically, very aware of the fact that she was severely underweight. �I rarely see them this far inland, so don�t worry about them. I don�t think they�ll bother us as long as they have a good food supply.� His fist clenched, angrily. �That was the most foolish thing those geneticists did. Everything they did was foolish, but creating creatures that could fly was by far the most stupid, irrational thing imaginable! They had to have known that they couldn�t successfully contain them forever, that eventually one or more would escape!� He drew a deep calming breath, and released it in a heavy sigh. �I�m sorry. I just get so frustrated by the stupidity of it all.�
�I know. The last thing we need is for the any of the animals to somehow get off the island.�
Again, silence settled over them as they sat listening to the normal sounds of the night, broken once by the distant cry of an unidentified creature.
Alan turned his head toward the window, recognizing it as a death cry. �One of the predators is feeding tonight,� he remarked, quietly as the cry faded. It was followed by silence.
Ellie felt suddenly distressed by the knowledge that at that moment, one of the creatures was dying to sustain the life of another. She lowered her face to hide her expression from Alan, but he had seen it in spite of her efforts to conceal her emotions from him.
�I know it�s difficult to hear, but it�s necessary for population control,� he reminded her in a non-patronizing way.
�I understand that, but it�s still sad to know that something has just died.�
He nodded his agreement. �Yeah, I know.� He yawned. His eyes were beginning to grow drowsy, and he soon found himself fighting to stay awake. Finally, he gave up on the battle and stood up. "I think I�ll retire for the night." He started for the staircase, but paused just inside the doorway to glance over his shoulder. "Coming?" he asked.
"I�ll be up in awhile."
"All right. I�ll see you in the morning."
"Good night."
Ellie sat back, listening to the sound of his footsteps as he climbed the stairs, and wondering what the future held for the two of them. Was this merely friendship, as she had explained to her mother? Or was this a second chance at the relationship that had passed them by?
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