�I�m sure glad the sea is calm today,� Harding said as they walked toward the beach with the equipment. �After that rain shower yesterday, I was afraid we would be facing rough water which would have seriously hampered our efforts.�
�Everything calms down after a rainstorm has passed,� Tyrell said cheerfully, his deep voice and Jamaican accent as smooth as silk. �Even the sea.�
The other three workers who helped him carry the boats trudged silently through the sand without the cheerfulness expressed by the big black man. Their faces were tense with worry. The money they had been offered for this job had been attractive enough to override their initial concerns, but now that the operation was at hand and they had actually gotten a look at the dangerous creatures, they were becoming gloomier about the prospect of actually handling them.
Mitch was a bit subdued also, for a great deal of responsibility rested on his skill with the rifle. He was a good marksman who had brought down a number of large game over the years, but these flying reptiles might prove more difficult to hit than a lion or a bear.
And Alan, who had seen the damage that could be inflicted upon the human body as a result of the sharp teeth and claws, experienced many of the same concerns as Mitch. With the exception of Doctor Harding, he, more than anyone else, knew the unpredictable nature of these prehistoric beasts, and he did not like the idea that someone might get hurt or killed while carrying out this job.
When they reached the moist sand just up from the rolling waves, the workers placed the inflatable boats on the ground and slowly put on their life preservers. Many a trembling finger fumbled with the buckles as they secured the vests that Harding had insisted they wear.
Finding a suitable boulder with a reasonably level surface, Alan and Harding placed the cases containing the darts and the radio collars on it and opened them in preparation for the darting process.
While they prepared themselves, Harding gave his last minute instructions. �Gentlemen, these animals have large wings with a leathery membrane, like a bat�s wings. We don�t want them damaged by the motors when you pull them to shore, so cut the engines until you get the beast positioned between the boats, and then use extreme caution as you bring them in. Tyrell, you and Garrett will keep the animals positioned between you. Cesar and Ernesto, you will man the motors.�
The men mumbled inaudible responses, and Harding then removed two of the darts from the case and passed them to the sharpshooter.
�Mitch, I want you to keep a second dart handy at all times just in case the first one fails to properly inject the animal. That is not likely to happen, but it�s best to be prepared.�
Because of the potency of the tranquilizer, the darts were tipped with small protective caps to prevent anyone who handled them from jabbing and inadvertently injecting himself, so he slipped one into his pocket for easy access.
After checking the safety on the automatic weapon and propping it against one of the boulders, Mitch removed the cap from the other dart and loaded it into the rifle, then lifted the weapon to his shoulder and looked down the long barrel to test the scope and the sights as he turned his attention to the sky where the pteranodons were gliding effortlessly above the water. He sighted on first one and then another, following them with the barrel. �Am I shooting at random, or are there specific ones we want to hit?�
�We have thirty collars, so we�ll tag as many as we can bring down,� Alan said. �I want to use every single collar. I haven�t studied the pteranodons since I�ve been here, so I don�t know if they use an alpha system like the raptors, or if they are simply mated pairs which live in a flock, like birds. I would suggest darting a good mix of males and females.�
Mitch glanced at him over his shoulder, one eye closed against the glare of the sun. �How the hell can you tell?�
�The males are bigger and have a larger head crest,� Harding replied. �I would like to dart young ones, but it is difficult to tell from the ground, so out of thirty I would have to assume that some will be young and some will be mature.�
Alan withdrew his high powered binoculars from his pack and lifted them to his eyes, carefully studying the pteranodons that fished in the pristine water or soared overhead. As he watched, one glided close to the surface of the water and snatched a fish out of the water with its clawed foot. It immediately turned back toward the cliffs, and he knew it was feeding its young.
He had expected to find that uncontrolled breeding and a constant food source had increased the numbers to unmanageable levels, and was surprised to find that was not the case. �There aren�t as many as I had feared,� he said. He turned toward the cliffs, where he knew the creatures were roosting and observed the craggy nesting area. Here and there, he could see tufts of grass in the rocks, but could not get a good angle to see the inhabitants of the nests. He knew there were infants there, however, for the adults were extremely active, fishing in the ocean and taking food back to their young. �The population seems to be under control.�
�The young ones probably fall victim to other predators,� Harding suggested. �Like other avian species it takes a while to build strength in their wings, and when learning to fly they most likely fall to the ground much like baby birds.� He indicated the cliffs high above the surf. �Plus, they�re in an exposed area, so storms may play a roll by knocking infants out of the nests.�
�There are a lot of storms here,� Alan agreed. �On average, only one in five baby birds will survive to adulthood, so we may be seeing something like that here. There are a lot of predators on this island.�
Squinting into the sunny sky, Harding spotted one that he judged to be the best candidate with which to start, and grasped Alan by the elbow. �Doctor Grant, that one.�
Alan turned to see which one he was indicating, and peered at it through the binoculars. It was huge, its long leathery wings outstretched, enabling it to glide effortlessly a short distance above the surf looking for fish. The protrusion on the back of its head was large and had a slightly reddish tint, which seemed to indicate a healthy breeding male. �Go for it,� he instructed.
Mitch sighted through the scope, taking careful aim as the creature caught an updraft, and pulled the trigger. The shot was true, and the pteranodon lurched slightly and screamed in rage as it attempted to shake off the dart that was imbedded in the base of its wing. It flapped its bat-like wings in an effort to gain altitude, moving away from what it perceived to be an unseen danger, but it was obvious that it was having trouble with mobility. Moments later, the drug took effect and the pteranodon crashed into the water, erupting in a huge splash.
For several moments, there was utter silence on the beach. The laborers appeared awe-struck by the event and appeared to have forgotten why they were there. They stared with wide eyes as the creature fell, making no movement toward getting their inflatables into the water.
Alan had been observing the other pteranodons for reactions when the first one was shot out of the sky, and was pleased when he saw no effect at all exhibited by the rest of the flock. They continued with their pattern of flying and fishing. As he lowered the binoculars, he noticed that the workers were not going into the water, and he turned sharply toward them. �Go!� he commanded.
Spurred into action, the four men pushed the boats into the water, and climbed into them, two per boat. The two Hispanic men revved the engines as they sped toward the fallen pteranodon, their small crafts rising and falling on the swells as they fought the incoming surf.
Alan lifted the binoculars again, observing the animal that floated on the surface of the water. Its wings were outstretched, but the shape of its head made it impossible for the creature to keep its nostrils above the surface. Even with the engines, the inflatables were slowed by the incoming waves.
�They�d better hurry,� he reported. �Most of its head is under the water.�
�This is what I was afraid of,� Harding said, shading his eyes against the glare of the sun as he watched the boaters fight the waves. On the shore, the waves were gently rolling up on the beach, but farther out they rose in swells that pushed the boats toward the island. �To minimize the risk to the animals, we�re going to have to make sure the retrieving team is in the water before we shoot them. Even with the engines, they�re losing valuable time fighting the currents.�
At last, the boats reached the fallen pteranodon and eased alongside it, one on each side, and the engines were cut to avoid inflicting damage to the wings. The other men deferred to the more outgoing Tyrell, and realizing that he was considered the unofficial foreman, he leaned down to grasp the head by the long protrusion at the back and pulled it out of the water. It immediately blew spray into his face from its nostrils as it was finally able to breathe again, but he merely turned his head away briefly, realizing that he was the first person to actually touch one of the creatures since the facility had folded operations. The head was awkward to handle, but he managed to pull it over the edge of the boat and he quickly wrapped a length of rope around the beak, making repeated loops before tying it off. All the while, the dark, malevolent eye seemed to stare at him as he worked.
With the head secure, he reached down and grasped the nearest wing to help support it, surprised to find that it resembled an arm with a hand-like extension at the bend. Garrett, in the other boat seized the other wing, and Cesar and Ernesto revved the engines again. With their unique, prehistoric cargo riding the waves between them, they moved toward the shore.
Alan, Harding, and Mitch splashed into the surf to meet the boats, and it took all of them to manhandle the pteranodon onto the beach. It was much lighter than it looked, but its sheer mass and huge wings made it difficult to manage. They laid it on its belly just out of reach of the lapping waves, its wings fully outstretched, and Alan carefully turned the head to one side as he positioned it on the sand. Then they stepped back to observe the temporarily helpless animal.
�Damn, that�s one big mother �� Tyrell started, then broke off abruptly, glancing apologetically at Ellie.
Ellie had heard worse from some of the men on the dig sites, and agreed wholeheartedly. �Yes, it is!�
�I thought it would be heavier,� the black man added.
�Its bones are hollow,� Alan told him. �Like those of a bird.�
Harding reached into the case containing the radio collars and removed the first one.
Ellie opened a spiral notebook and poised her pen over the paper. �What is the tag number?�
�Number 1001,� Harding replied.
Ellie recorded the number, and added a description, speaking softly to herself, �Adult Pteranodon, male . . . �
While Harding positioned the collar around the creature�s neck and fastened it securely, Alan withdrew a tape measure from the backpack and glanced at Cesar, who was standing nearby,. �Hold this,� he said, placing the end of the measure against the wingtip.
The man knelt down to hold the tape in the designated place while Alan stretched the tape to the other wingtip, and examined the results.
�The wingspan is twenty seven feet, six and three quarter inches,� he announced.
Ellie wrote down the information, and watched while Alan examined the animal from head to foot, touching and handling every part of its body, acquainting himself with the feel of its leathery wings, the peculiar �hand� on its wings with its elongated finger, its clawed feet, and paying particular attention to the long protrusion on its head.
As he pried the mouth slightly open to reveal the rows of sharp teeth, Tyrell bent over behind him, hands on his knees, and watched with extreme interest and curiosity. �Those are some mean-looking teeth!�
�Yeah,� Alan agreed. �The strange thing is, according to the fossil records, they�re not supposed to have teeth. The name �Pteranodon� means �winged and toothless�. Obviously, something happened when the geneticists brought these creatures back.� Unable to resist, he ran his finger along the row of teeth, but was careful not to get the finger caught between them just in case they clamped down on reflex.
Ellie looked over his shoulder, shaking her head. �That�s incredible.�
�Is it awake?� Tyrell asked, worriedly. �Its eyes are watching us.�
Harding smiled. �Don�t worry. It�s unconscious, but with this particular drug the animal's eyes remain open with corneal and pupillary reflexes present.�
�If you say so,� Tyrell grinned. He pointed his finger toward the small tail. �I' thought these flying dinosaurs had long tails.�
�There were many species of pterosaurs, and some of them did have long tails,� Alan told him. �Dimorphodon, for example, which is from the Jurassic period and predates this animal.� He stood up, dusting the sand from his knees. �Fascinating creatures. They existed during the age of dinosaurs, but they�re not true dinosaurs. They are a species closer related to reptiles. The name, �Pterosaur� means �winged lizard�.�
Ellie could only smile as Alan continued to speak to the men as though they were in a lecture theater. While Tyrell and the other laborers watched in fascination, Alan was once again the professor, giving an informative lecture on the animal that lay before them. She knew he missed teaching, and hoped that someday perhaps he would be called back to instruct the next generation of scientists on the life and behavior of the animals on the island.
Harding carefully checked to make sure the radio signal was working properly. �Looks good,� he announced. �If we�re finished, I would suggest we wake this monster up and send him on his way. Grant, if you�ll remove the ropes from around its beak, I�ll inject it with the antidote.�
While Harding loaded the syringe with the antidote, Alan began unwrapping the rope from around the pteranodon�s beak, leaving one loop tightly in place near the tip to make certain it was unable to react to the needle prick. When he was ready, Harding knelt beside the creature and inserted the needle into its neck, then withdrew it and stood back.
Alan released the rope and backed up to a safe distance with the others, watching as pteranodon #1001 groggily lifted its head and clumsily gouged a furrow in the sand with its beak as it struggled to regain its mobility. For several minutes, it continued to rest on the beach while its strength slowly returned, until finally, it used the knuckles of the hand-like protrusions on its wings to push itself upright. Turning toward the humans, it stretched out its neck and screeched at them, warning them to keep their distance.
Everyone took involuntary steps backward, greatly intimidated by the prehistoric beast, but it made no move to attack. Still a bit groggy and clumsy as the effects of the tranquilizer lingered, it seemed to realize it was in no condition to engage the humans. Mitch hefted the automatic rifle, ready to react to a threat, but Harding put out his hand to silently urge him to wait.
Finally, the pteranodon shuffled slowly around to face the ocean, then opened its leathery wings and propelled itself into the air. It flapped its wings just long enough to catch the air currents, then glided toward the nesting area.
�Well, that�s one down,� Harding said.
�That was easy enough,� Mitch said, cheerfully as he reloaded his rifle with another dart. �At this rate, we�ll have these critters collared in no time!�
�Let�s not get too overconfident, okay?� Alan advised. He did not see the slight frown that creased Mitch�s brow at the cautionary advice.
�Okay, gentlemen,� Harding said as he prepared collar #1002. �Let�s bring down the next one. This time, I want the boats in the water before we go any farther. It took way too long to get out there to it, and we could easily have lost it to drowning.� He paused with an amused shrug. �Not that that would have been such a bad thing, but Hammond technically owns these beasts, and he wants them kept alive. So, let�s shove off now. Mitch, wait until they�re well away before you fire.�
Tyrell and his fellow laborers pushed the boats into the surf again, fighting against the waves which constantly tried to push them back onto the beach. When they were well away, Alan selected a smaller animal with a less significant head crest which was gliding just above the surface of the water, a probable female. At his instruction, Mitch fired a dart into it, and it fell quickly. This time the boats drew alongside it in a matter of moments, sparing it the risk of drowning that could have befallen the first one.
Harding nodded, satisfied with the quick response of the team. �Excellent job, men,� he said as they hauled the second creature onto the shore.
They laid it out in the same position that they had placed the first one, and Alan began taking measurements again while Harding fastened the collar on its neck. Ellie wrote down the number and recorded Alan�s measurements. Again, the tagging and the release went smoothly, and they watched as it soared into the sky again.
By the time the fifth animal had been collared and released, they had fallen into an efficient routine. Each man now knew what was expected of him, and they carried out their tasks like a well-oiled team, and confidence was brimming. After pteranodon #1005 had returned to the sky, Harding glanced at his watch and notated the time, suggesting that they break for lunch.
�Great, I�m starving!� Mitch exclaimed. �I�ve worked up quite an appetite.�
He started to carry the rifles back to the camp with them, but it occurred to him that there was no one there to steal them, so he stood them on their stocks against the boulder with the safeties on to prevent accidents. Likewise, Harding left the collars and tranquilizers where they were, and they walked back to the camp.
�We brought sandwiches for everyone,� Harding said to Alan and Ellie. �I�m not sure what you two have been living on while you�ve been here, but I figured you might like something bought from a restaurant for a change.�
Mitch opened the ice chest they had brought, and began withdrawing and passing out the wrapped sandwiches and cans of cold soda pop.
Tyrell grinned good naturedly as he accepted his soda, his teeth very white against his dark skin, and said, �Sure wish this was an ice cold beer.�
Harding smiled in response. �You know why we can�t have any alcohol on this job. Every man needs to be sharp.�
�I know. Guess the celebrating will have to wait until we get home, right?�
Alan and Ellie sat down together near the bluff and unwrapped their sandwiches. �Hey, this is good,� Ellie said approvingly after the first bite.
�We bought them this morning from a small sandwich shop in San Jos� before we boarded the helicopter,� Harding explained. �I wasn�t sure what you liked, so I just got chicken salad for everyone.�
�I love chicken salad. I used to make tons of them when we were on the dig sites back in Montana. It feels strange to say this, but this is the first restaurant food I�ve had in seven weeks,� she added.
�They�ve gotten a little soggy from the mayo, but they still taste good,� Mitch said as he sat down beside Ellie. �I�d love to taste one of yours, though. I bet they�re fantastic.�
It was obvious to everyone that Mitch was interested in her, and Ellie smiled as she glanced at Alan. She knew he had noticed as well, even though he chose not to react. The brief depression she had felt over Tory had faded away during the morning, and her naturally friendly disposition welcomed the conversation. �Well, no one ever complained,� she told him, then added with a laugh, �But that could be because no one else wanted the job of making them.�
�So, what were these �dig sites� you were working on?�
�Alan and I used to spend every summer on paleontology digs. You know, excavating the remains of dinosaurs.�
Mitch glanced at Alan, who appeared to be giving his sandwich his utmost attention, but was obviously listening to the conversation. The sharpshooter was uncertain exactly where Alan Grant stood in Ellie�s life. Maybe he was her professor or mentor or something of that nature. �Was that something you enjoyed doing?�
Her smile faltered somewhat, considering that a rather bizarre question. �I wouldn�t have gone on them year after year if I hadn�t enjoyed them,� she told him.
�Touch�,� he said, grinning. �You just seem like someone who would be better suited to modeling or something.�
She laughed aloud. �Modeling? Me?�
�Why not? You�re tall and beautiful and slender. Isn�t that the combination of ingredients that they look for in models?�
�I have no idea what they look for in models. It isn�t something I ever wanted to do. In fact, from what I�ve seen I think it would be quite dull. I�m more interested in the ancient world, finding new species of dinosaurs and the plant life that supported their eco system.�
�You sound very passionate about it. Perhaps you should write a book,� Mitch suggested.
�My first book was published last fall and has been doing quite well,� she told him. Glancing at Alan, she saw that he was watching impassively out of the corner of his eye.
�I�ll have to read it,� Mitch was saying. �You really are into this sort of thing, aren�t you?�
�Very much. As dangerous as it was for InGen to recreate these animals, it provides a unique opportunity for Alan and I to study them. With the fossils, we were unable to determine their color or the texture of the skin. Here, we can observe all that and so much more, like their breeding and nesting habits. And by placing radio collars on the pteranodons, we�re making it safer for them to co-exist with humans.�
�How long do you think it will take to collar all of them?"
�That depends on how everything goes,� Alan told him, indicating that he had, indeed, been listening to their conversation. �If this keeps going as planned with no problems, I�d say we should get ten to twelve done today, and hopefully the same amount tomorrow, and the rest the following day.�
�So, we�ll be spending two nights here, probably,� Mitch mused. A couple more days to get to know Ellie. He took a large bite of his sandwich and washed it down with a long drink of soda. He was feeling very confident and pleased with the way the job had progressed so far, and his participation in it. �I can�t believe how easily this operation has been going. When Doctor Harding said it could be dangerous, I was expecting to be attacked during the whole process.�
�So far, they�ve left us alone, which is good,� Harding agreed. �I have to agree, though. I rather thought they�d give us more trouble. Humans are really too large to be considered a typical food source for them, given their light bone structure, but they used to attack the sides of the cage when the feeders would come. I�m not sure why.�
�They attacked us too, when we unwittingly ended up inside their cage,� Alan told him. �They were quite vicious, in fact, and certainly capable of causing a great deal of damage or even death.�
�So why haven�t they attacked us here on the beach?� Tyrell asked. �Compared to the other animals on this island, we must be considerably more helpless, easy prey so to speak.�
�That is a fact,� Alan agreed. �You also bring up a good question, one that I really don�t have an answer for. Freedom, perhaps. Can you imagine living your whole life inside a cage? The river flowed through the canyon the cage was built over, so their diet was limited to fresh water fish. Out here, they have a greater variety of choices for food, and a much larger area to fly in which to search for it.�
Ellie turned to Alan. �It is surprising that the act of shooting these animals out of the sky didn�t stir the rest of them up more. I was a bit concerned that it might even cause them to leave the area.�
�I wondered about that too,� Alan admitted. �The mated pairs are obviously staying close because of their young, but I wondered about a forced migration in response to our presence. That doesn�t seem to be happening.�
�They don�t seem to feel threatened,� Harding agreed. �Maybe the scientists were right about suppressing their instinct to migrate.�
�That�s good, isn�t it?� Mitch asked. �Makes it a lot easier for us.�
�We have a long way to go,� Alan reminded them. �It�s been relatively easy so far, but that could change in a heartbeat. We can�t let ourselves get complacent or careless. We have to always stay alert.�
Ellie finished her sandwich and wadded up the wrapper. �You finished with yours?� she asked, looking at Alan.
He handed her his wrapper and empty pop can, and she carried them to the black trash bag that had been designated for depositing the trash. Mitch watched her for a moment, then got up and followed her.
�Is he always like that?� he asked quietly, nodding toward Alan.
�Like what?� she asked.
�So negative. Every time someone comments how good things are going, he reminds us not to get careless. We all know what our job is, and everything is going better than planned. So well, in fact, that it�s become almost routine.�
�He�s right, Mitch,� she said, seriously. �He knows everyone is doing a good job, but on this island, carelessness and overconfidence can get you killed. He and I have both seen it happen before, and we don�t want to see it again. You have no idea how quickly things can turn around. That�s why he keeps reminding everyone to stay alert. We haven�t had any problems at all yet, but we have a long way to go before we can allow ourselves to breathe easier.�
�Nothing�s going to happen,� he insisted. �We�ve got everything under control.�
Ellie looked at him for several moments before answering. He was a nice man, very friendly and outgoing. But he was like so many others who encountered the prehistoric species on the island. He was over confident, and did not yet understand how quickly things could go wrong. �There is one thing you need to remember, Mitch. Out here, you are never in control.� With that, she returned to Alan, who had stood up with Harding.
The sharpshooter gazed after her, still finding her incredibly interesting, but convinced that she was an alarmist like her partner. He smiled to himself, confident that she would soon see that it was possible for humans to control their environment, and that he was ready for anything.
Harding stood up, brushing the sand from his trousers. �Break�s over, gentlemen. And lady,� Harding added with a smile at Ellie. �We still have a lot of pteranodons to collar before supper, so let�s get to it.�
No one was quite ready to return to the job, but with the exception of a few groans, no one complained as they gathered their gear and returned to the beach.
For the next couple of hours, everything continued to go as planned. In efficient succession, the flying reptiles were darted, brought into shore, and fitted with their radio collars, then released again.
The eighth capture, however, revealed to everyone just how quickly they could lose control of the situation.
It began smoothly enough. Mitch�s shot was dead-on, as always, bringing the pteranodon down with an accurately placed dart to the neck. The boats were already in the water, and after securing its jaws with rope, the laborers sped back to shore, supporting it between them.
Everyone splashed into the surf to help carry it to the beach. Doctor Harding, helping to carry the massive head, noticed that the rope which secured its mouth seemed a bit too loose, but because there had been no incident of premature recovery, it seemed a minor detail, and by the time they laid the creature out in the sand, he had forgotten about it.
But just as the men relaxed their grips on the pteranodon, it revived unexpectedly. Whipping its head violently back and forth in an attempt to rid itself of the restraints, it clubbed Garrett aside with its head crest. With an exclamation of pain and surprise, the laborer tumbled backward onto the ground.
�The rope�s coming free!� Harding shouted, realizing his own error in not reporting it immediately.
Tyrell reached for the rope just as it came free, and watched in horror as his arm went directly into the beast�s open mouth! An instant later, the jaws clamped down on the arm, and he was hurled through the air with strength he had underestimated the creature possessing. He landed heavily on his back fifteen feet away, the wind driven from his startled lungs. Everyone else stumbled back out of the way.
Opening its mouth again, the beast screeched in rage and confusion as it struggled to get to its feet, flopping clumsily on the sand as it sought to regain its mobility in the after-effects of the drug. Confused by its inability to get to its feet, it screamed again.
The other pteranodons seemed agitated by its cries, and their activity in the sky became more aggressive. They answered with chilling cries of their own, and one of them came in closer, swooping down toward the humans in a false charge before lifting on the currents again. This action seemed to galvanize the rest of the flock, and more of them began to dive toward the humans on the beach.
�It�s giving a distress call!� Alan shouted, ducking on reflex as another one came in alarmingly close. �Hit it with another dart!�
Everyone looked at Mitch, who was looking frantically for the second dart that he had been keeping on hand. He jammed his hand into first one pocket and then the other, but it had apparently slipped out unnoticed. �I can�t find it! It must have fallen out!�
Harding rushed to the darting kit and with hurried, shaking hands, grabbed another one from the case. An instant later, he felt the breeze generated by the wings of another pterandon as it swooped very close, and he shrank back to avoid its claws and teeth. With a loud screech it aborted its attack. As the veterinarian turned with the dart, he saw that the others were crouching on the beach, their hands over their heads in an attempt to protect themselves from the angry beasts that continued their aerial assault on the humans. Mitch was swinging his darting rifle like a club, and managed to connect with one. Knocked temporarily off balance, it nearly fell to the ground, but managed to recover and get back into the air.
A terrified scream drew their attention to Cesar. A pteranodon had grasped the frightened man by the shoulders and was attempting to lift him into the air. Cesar twisted and flailed with his fists, managing to break free from one clawed foot, but dangled from the other as it flapped its massive wings in an effort to gain altitude. He was too heavy for it, and it was unable to get him off the ground, but it refused to release him.
Mitch looked toward the boulder against which he had placed his automatic rifle, but as he started to move toward it he saw a pteranodon swooping down toward him, and he immediately dropped onto the sand. The beast pulled up.
As he was crouching down, Mitch suddenly spied the missing dart a short distance in front of him. On his hands and knees, he scrambled toward it, spraying sand in all directions in his haste to get to it. Stretching out his hand, he snatched up the dart and quickly loaded it, then fired it at the pterandon that continued to assault Cesar. It immediately released the frightened man and flew a hundred yards down the beach before it crash landed in the sand. Cesar collapsed onto the ground.
Harding ran back to the sharpshooter and thrust another dart at him. Mitch grabbed it and hastily tried to load it without removing the cap, but it would not go into the chamber. Irritably, he snatched the cap from the tip and plunged it into the cylinder and snapped it closed. Raising it quickly to his shoulder, he fired another dart into the back of the pteranodon that was still flopping in the sand, continuing to give the distress calls. It struggled a few moments longer, then became still.
When the distress calls ceased, the other pteranodons abruptly broke off the attack, but their confused cries continued to resound as they circled overhead.
Alan got slowly to his feet and watched as the flock regrouped in the sky above him. The attack seemed to be over, and the calls began to die down, so he grabbed a rope and approached the nearest pteranodon. There was anger in his fingers as they looped the rope repeatedly around the animal�s mouth and tied it off. If anything was likely to cause a forced migration, it would be a situation just like this one, where the pteranodons felt threatened. He could only hope that they would continue to linger on the island long enough for them to get the rest of the collars placed.
The lightest person there, Ellie had instinctively dropped onto her belly on the sand beside a boulder in an effort to reduce the risk of being lifted into the air, and she slowly pushed herself up, looking around at the chaos on the beach. Alan was kneeling beside the first animal and was tying a rope around its jaws, but she could tell by his posture that he was annoyed. His stiff back and the quick movements of his hands as he looped the rope were tell-tale signs of his displeasure in the events that had occurred. Everyone else seemed disoriented, uncertain of what to do next.
Cesar was slowly struggling to his feet rubbing his shoulders, and Tyrell, who was finally able to breathe again, was now sitting up watching the activity and holding his injured arm against his massive chest. He was nearest, so she moved toward him. �Are you okay?� she asked as she knelt beside him.
He allowed her to gently pry his arm away from his chest to have a look at the damage. It was bleeding from the row of puncture wounds caused by the teeth in the animal�s jaws. �I�m bleeding,� he said, weakly, his eyes focusing on the punctures. �You know, I don�t really like blood,� he added, solemnly.
�It doesn�t look serious,� she said reassuringly, but as she looked at his face, she noticed that his eyes were becoming glassy and looked like they were about to roll. �Are you feeling woozy?� she asked, worried that he was about to faint.
�J-just a bit.�
�Don�t look at it,� she instructed. I�ll wrap it up for you.�
With the first pteranodon properly secured, Alan stood up again and looked at the workers. Ernesto had escaped injury and was standing idly nearby, while Garrett rubbed the bruise that was forming on his chest after being struck by the head crest. He did not seem badly injured, so Alan pointed to the pteranodon that was lying farther down the beach. �You two. Get that one secured.�
The two men looked at each other, and for a moment, Alan thought they were going to revolt. Then one of them snatched a strip of rope and they ran down the beach toward it, but he noticed that they approached it with great caution. He turned his attention to Cesar and checked for injuries.
Harding appeared at Ellie�s side a moment later with the first aid kit, and she popped it open and searched through it, picking out a disinfectant and a roll of gauze. She cleaned the wounds carefully and applied the disinfectant cream to it, then carefully wrapped the gauze around it and secured it with tape.
�Have you had a tetanus shot recently?� she asked.
Tyrell managed a weak grin. �I hate needles as much as I hate blood,� he answered.
She smiled in response. For some reason, the biggest, strongest men seemed to have the biggest revulsion to the sight of blood and needles. �Well, if I was you I would have this looked at by a doctor when you get back to San Jos�, and also get a tetanus shot just to be safe. We don�t know what kind of bacteria they might carry in their mouths, so promise me you�ll do that as soon as you get back.�
Tyrell nodded. �Okay, I promise.�
�Do you need to rest for a while, Tyrell?� Harding asked.
�No, no. I�m fine,� he assured him. He struggled to get his feet under him, then sank back down. �Maybe I�d better rest for a moment.�
�Just take it easy for a few minutes,� Harding said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. �We have two down, so we�ll get them both collared. That�ll keep us occupied for a while before we need you to go back out in the boat.� He looked up when Alan approached. �How�s Cesar?�
�Just a little stunned,� Alan replied. �He has some scratches on his shoulders, but he�ll be okay. I think he�s more frightened than anything. It�s a damn good thing those things weren�t strong enough to get him off the ground, or it would have carried him out of reach, probably taking it back to the nest in those cliffs.�
Harding fell silent, thinking about that. They would never have been able to reach him, had that happened, and he shuddered to think about the worker being devoured by a flock of nestlings.
�This is what I�ve been talking about,� Alan said, sternly, breaking the sudden silence with the voice Ellie had heard him use to lecture students who had not been paying attention in class. �We didn�t have any serious injuries this time, and we were damn lucky. What happened to that extra dart?�
�This isn�t my fault!� Mitch protested defensively, thinking that the blame was being place on him.
�No one said it was,� Alan replied calmly without accusation, and held up the dart that he had removed from the neck of the animal. �The tranquilizer didn�t fully discharge. It got enough to knock it out of the sky and apparently enough to keep it on the ground, but not enough to keep it under as long as we needed.�
Harding took the dart and turned it in his hands, examining it carefully. �That happens occasionally. Nothing is completely foolproof. You�re right, Doctor Grant. It is too easy to become careless, and mistakes can have serious repercussions here. I�m partly to blame. I noticed when we were bringing the pteranodon to shore that the rope had become loose, but I forgot about it by the time we had positioned it. That�s why we always need to keep that extra dart within reach. We haven�t needed it until now, so it�s understandable that it would slip your mind. But we need to always be aware.�
Mitch gave a lame shrug, mildly placated. �It must have fallen out of my pocket at some point and I didn�t notice it. From now on, I�ll check to make sure it�s there before I shoot the first one.�
Alan observed him as he spoke, taking note of the fact that Mitch was embarrassed and annoyed more with himself than with those who had reminded him of his oversight. He was taking responsibility and agreeing to be more careful; he could ask for no more than that. �All right. Those who are injured should sit this one out. The rest of us have work to do.� Turning, he returned to the prone figure of the winged beast and began taking measurements.
Harding paused to draw a deep, calming breath, then selected the next collar and joined him.
Ellie gave a long, meaningful look at Mitch, then followed with the notebook.
Mitch looked after her, understanding that the look was a direct reference to their earlier conversation about Alan�s frequent reminders to always stay alert. He sighed heavily. As irritated as he had been with the paleontologist�s continued warnings, he could not deny that he had been right after all. All it had taken was one small mistake, and things had spiraled out of control. Ellie obviously knew Alan very well. How personal was their relationship?
Reaching into the darting kit, he removed another dart, checked the cap, and placed it in his pocket. He removed the cap on another and reloaded the darting rifle, then joined the others, determined that he would not be so careless next time.
Go to Chapter Thirty Two