The Jurassic Chronicles (Future Chronicles Book 15)

by Samuel Peralta

  Fred fought harder though, knowing that all great artists must face struggles, his Psi-Tal abilities constantly working overtime, finding ways to reroute the internal commands of the T. rex.

  Now everyone in the vicinity started backing up, a few actually running away as fast as they could, but most of the people seemed spellbound by what they were witnessing, and a hush fell over the crowd. As the T. rex continued taking ponderous steps towards Cooper, the servomotors grew louder, the gears seeming to grind as Fred bent the king of the dinosaurs to his will.

  The mechanical beast gave it a good fight, but now Fred was in control. He made it surge forward, much quicker now. Shouts rang out and people turned in panic to flee, and Fred basked in his success, very much enjoying both his revenge and art combined in such a fine manner.

  Cooper and his buddies took off running pretty fast, but it didn’t take the T. rex long to fall in right behind them. One of the girls tripped, grabbed the arm of the boy closest to her, and they both went down. Fred didn’t hesitate. The mechanical terror stomped across their backs and a loud snapping sound cut through the air amidst the noise of screams and grinding gears.

  “Freddie!”

  He made the T. Rex open its mouth as wide as it could, and though the teeth weren’t really teeth, they were solid and kind of sharp (none of it was real, which made it all the more delicious, Fred decided), and the steel in the jaws was strong. He guided the mouth until it clamped down on the kid whose name he couldn’t remember.

  “Freddie!”

  And then he heard his mother. He realized she must be terrified and probably needed to find a restroom again. But most of all she was an inconvenience, because when he looked back at his mechanical dinosaur, former high school bully hanging partway out of the mouth, he was disappointed to see that Cooper and the rest were completely out of sight now.

  “I’m right here in front of you, Mother.”

  “We can’t just stand here. We need to leave the zoo as fast as we can, before that monster gets my baby boy.”

  “Good idea.”

  Fred reached down and took Eloise by the hand, pulling her towards the exit. His mother wanted to get out as quickly as possible, and Cooper and the few pals he had left were probably thinking the same thing. But none of them would step foot outside the gates until Fred’s masterpiece was finished.

  * * *

  Fred looked up at the beautiful blue sky as he and his mother made their way towards the exit. Later, he would capture it in a painting to commemorate this day. But unlike him, no one else seemed to be enjoying themselves. People were looking around confused, while others were basically screaming at zoo employees, a few in tears.

  “What do you think is going on now, Freddie?” Eloise asked her son. “I don’t see any of those crazy mechanical dinosaurs anywhere.”

  Fred glanced over at his mother, wondering if she might be in shock. He didn’t really know and didn’t exactly care. She’d get over it. Just like she had when her husband broke his neck after falling down the basement stairs.

  “Who knows, Mother? I suppose we could go ask Cooper, since you seem to have such a crush on him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, perhaps a little too fast. “He’s just a boy, and I thought maybe your good friend when you went to school together. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s still here the way he ran so fast.”

  They made their way over towards the boy who’d spent years making Fred’s life miserable.

  “So what’s the word, Cooper?” Fred called to him as they narrowed the distance. “I thought you’d all be long gone.”

  Rojas and his friends turned towards the Wichmans, and it tickled Fred when he saw the fright in Cooper’s eyes.

  “It’s the gates,” Cooper said, his voice betraying his fear. “For some reason they’re locked.”

  “Doesn’t anyone have a key?” Eloise asked.

  “An employee tried,” said one of the girls with Rojas. Fred gave her a real look for the first time today and remembered her. Hailey. Her name was Hailey. “But he…he got electrocuted.”

  Eloise looked up at Fred. “I need to go sit down on a bench. I’m assuming someone called the fire department.”

  “People tried to, Mrs. Wichman,” Cooper said with a noticeable hitch in his voice, “but no one has been able to get cell service.”

  Eloise lowered her head and walked over to a nearby bench. She looked exhausted, but she’d be fine. Fred would make sure of that. And now with her out of the way, he could get back to his art.

  “I think I hear police sirens,” somebody shouted, and everything started getting louder once more as panicked voices filled the air.

  Most of the people gathered near the entrance gate hadn’t even seen the T. rex come to life, so Fred figured he really owed them a show. He heard Cooper, who now sounded like a scared little child instead of Mr. Big Deal Pre-Law at Yale, telling one of the zoo workers about the magical dinosaur and how it swallowed one of this friends. At the moment, the worker probably wondered what Cooper had been smoking, but soon they’d all witness a miracle that only an artist with Fred’s talents could achieve. Although for now, he didn’t plan on signing his work. Staying anonymous would be necessary for his long-term goals.

  Someone started screaming and pointing towards the area of the big cats. It reminded Fred of how much his mother had been going on and on about the lions and tigers just a short time ago. Like she’d never seen them before. And she always talked in such a loud voice that everyone around could hear her. “Just look at those tigers, Freddie,” Eloise Wichman said earlier. “What magnificent beasts. But I’m glad I’m not a tiger because I like to eat a good salad, and I bet they don’t get to eat many vegetables. And their stripes are so beautiful. Do you think they get bored, Freddie?” It went on and on until the next animal, then the next, then an animatronic dinosaur. Until Fred wanted to bash his own head in. But no matter. A few more screams rang through the air, but some people just laughed as a junior-sized Brachiosaurus came walking down the path.

  “How did that thing get out of the pen?” a zoo worker said, and she started walking towards it.

  “Freddie, come over here closer to me,” his mother said. “Those things are possessed by the devil, I think, and I don’t want my baby getting hurt.”

  To appease her, Fred sat beside his mother and watched as the employee closed the distance. When she was about ten feet away, Fred made the Brachiosaurus start running. The crowd started screaming and the woman tried to jump out of the way, but got a kick in the knee as the dino picked up speed. The crowd parted to avoid the mechanical nightmare, and Fred summoned a Triceratops from the left and an Ankylosaurus from the right. Now that he knew how to maneuver around in the complex programming and manipulate it to his needs, controlling several dinosaurs at a time proved easier than he initially thought it would.

  He found that he was enjoying himself to death, and though Fred preferred old twentieth-century show tunes, he started humming the theme song to the original Jurassic Park movie. It was catchy, and Fred felt certain that it fit the mood of the scene. After all, he was an artist, and the entire zoo was proving to be his canvas.

  The Ankylosaurus was moving at a pretty good clip for having shorter legs, and Fred made the club-like tail swish back and forth, like a painter making brush strokes. The people facing it turned to run in the opposite direction, only to collide into the people trying to avoid the horns of the charging Triceratops. It was a scintillating meal, and Fred wanted a second helping, so he brought up a squad of Velociraptors.

  It worked perfectly, as the smaller hunters worked to contain the crowd.

  “These things are really freaking alive,” someone shouted, and panic set in as people started running in all different directions, creating even more work for Fred. It wasn’t easy, as he constantly needed to make the dinosaurs turn back around and charge toward the crowd again and again. A few people were brushed by the horns of the Triceratop
s, and the Velociraptors scratched some backs and bellies, but for this particular group of frenzied survivors, no serious injuries had occurred yet. As an artist, Fred needed to wait for just the right moment. And it would be now, he decided, as the T. rex entered the chaos, bounding across the pavement directly at Rojas and his buddies.

  “Look at that Cooper, Freddie,” Eloise said. “He’s actually trying to get behind that group of kids for protection.”

  Fred saw him all right, and as the T. rex got closer, Cooper pushed one of the smaller boys into its path and took off running. Immediately Fred made an adjustment and the lizard king missed stepping on the boy. He couldn’t let that child or any of the kids get hurt, because if he did, what was the difference between him and his father?

  Eloise elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Oh, I was so scared for that poor child! And I don’t think I like that Rojas boy anymore. You’re nothing like him, Freddie. You’ve always been such a good boy.”

  “Thanks, Mother. I try real hard.” If she knew the truth, it would break her heart, but Fred wouldn’t quit being an artist for anyone. Maybe someday she’d find out, but he’d deal with that when the time came.

  And finally, it was time to make Cooper pay. The snobbish bully appeared to be in full panic mode, running towards the zoo gift shop to seek shelter, so Fred sent his speedy Velociraptors to keep him from getting inside. Cooper turned his head slightly and saw the one on his left, so he veered to his right, bumping into another of the swift, pack-hunting mechanical dinos, and lost his balance, then tumbled to the pavement.

  As he struggled to his feet, Fred could see a look of astonished fear on Cooper’s face when he realized he wouldn’t be able to get out of the way of the charging Triceratops. His only chance was to roll, but he couldn’t move fast enough. The horned dinosaur stepped on his leg and an audible crunch reached Fred’s ears just before a piercing scream filled the afternoon sky. Cooper’s leg looked to be bent in an unnatural direction, reminding Fred once more of the day his father plummeted down the basement steps, thanks to his Herd of Jurassic Thunder toys.

  Besides Cooper’s screams, the sirens of police and emergency vehicles were quite close now, and Fred realized this piece of art needed one more brush stroke before he would consider it complete.

  Some of Cooper’s friends were running in the direction of their fallen comrade, ready to provide aid to the punk who was willing to shove a kid into harm’s way to save himself. Cooper looked up at them, and Fred could sense the thoughts seeping out of him, the desperate hope that his buddies would take his pain away, for this nightmare to come to an end. Then a shadow covered Cooper Rojas, and the last thing he saw was the T. rex falling on top of him.

  * * *

  “I just don’t know what to make of any of it, Freddie.” Eloise walked over to the kitchen table with two hot cups of tea and sat down opposite her son.

  Fred picked up one of the cups and carefully sipped.

  “Thanks for the tea, Mother. It really hits the spot after all that excitement.” He realized it would be a while before his mother put this behind her, and although he could just as easily use a little of his art to make her forget the whole thing, people knew she had been at the zoo today, and he didn’t want anyone thinking she might be losing her marbles when they asked her about it.

  “I’m just so glad you were with me, Freddie. I would hate to be alone and have to go through something like that.” She took a sip and looked over the rim of her cup into Fred’s eyes. “I hope you’ll be okay, having seen death like that. Innocent people killed because of those prehistoric monsters. And one who went through so much school with you.”

  He didn’t respond, but looked down at his steaming cup, allowing her to believe that he was a sensitive young man.

  “I didn’t know if we would make it out alive,” his mother said. “It was like a miracle that when the police got there, the mechanical dinosaurs just quit moving and the fence unlocked and wasn’t electrified anymore. And what terrible luck for Cooper. The dinosaur creatures come to a stop, but that tall one loses its balance and falls on the boy. A broken neck. Just like your father.”

  They both picked up their tea and took a few sips. Fred could tell that Eloise wasn’t finished.

  “That Cooper Rojas. I used to think he was such a great kid, then I saw him push that little boy at the dinosaur to save himself. If only his mother knew the truth. But it would break her heart, and you know me, Freddie, I’m not one to gossip.”

  “No, you aren’t, Mother.” Fred’s stomach growled. Being an artist could really work up your appetite.

  “A power line must have gotten a short somewhere and everything just went nuts. Or else the computers really are going to come to life. I’ve seen it in movies.” She gave a nervous little laugh and reached for Fred’s hand.

  They looked across the table at each other, and Fred could see nothing but love in his mother’s eyes. He was so lucky to have such a great mom.

  “So what do you want for dinner, Freddie?”

  He smiled at his mother and her cheeks blushed. “I want to take my special lady out to dinner. Considering all that you’ve been through today, you deserve a night out. Like a sort of celebration.”

  His mother stopped smiling and it caused Fred’s heart to skip a beat. He could enter her head and know her thoughts immediately, but this was his mother. Her private thoughts were sacred. “What is it, Mother, what’s wrong?”

  “Freddie, is it really appropriate, us celebrating and all, when several people died today?”

  He gave Eloise his best smile. “Yes, Mother, it is appropriate to celebrate. Because we escaped death. It didn’t hold sway over us, so let’s go out and feel just how alive we are.”

  She jumped up from the table. “Just let me freshen up a bit, and then I’ll be ready to go wherever you want. You’re so right, Freddie. You always are, my sweet boy. We made it through that horrible mess, and we shouldn’t sit around crying about it.”

  She trotted out of the room, and Fred took the tea cups over to the sink. They’d have a fine evening. He’d take her to a fancy restaurant, the kind where people typically feel safe in all aspects of their lives. The kind of people who weren’t overly concerned about where their next meal or dollar was coming from, the kind of people who actually looked at and ordered from the wine list. The kind of people who would never suspect that the young man with the scar on his cheek, eating dinner with his sweet mother, was there to find his next art project.

  A Word from Ed Gosney

  Powers emanating from the mind have always fascinated me in science fiction, from the Espers in Alfred Bester’s novel The Demolished Man to Professor Xavier in The X-Men to various abilities brought out in Frank Herbert’s Dune novels.

  Thus were born my Psi-Tals, individuals with varying Psionic Talents. In Prometheus Stumbles, the first book in my Dreamworld series, we meet both good and bad Psi-Tals, and Fred Wichman, 25 years after the events in “The Thundering Grind of Jurassic Gears,” definitely has a role to play. Fred also appears in my novelette, Practice, available as an eBook at Amazon.

  I’d like to take the time to thank Samuel Peralta not only for including me in The Jurassic Chronicles, but also for his vision and creativity. The Future Chronicles stay fresh and exciting, thanks to Samuel, and readers appreciate the variety of anthologies that have been published under this colorful umbrella of stories. The short story is alive and well, and in very capable hands.

  And I’d be remiss not to thank the editor of The Jurassic Chronicles, Crystal Watanabe, who not only corrected any mistakes we may have made, but who also helped breathe life into the stories, assisting with the resurrection of our extinct Jurassic heroes.

  Besides writing fiction, I put out a regular blog on comic book nostalgia at my website, www.edgosney.com, and I can be found on Facebook, Twitter, Reddit, and other social media sites.

  A Spear for Allosaur

  by Victor Milán

  “
A MONSTER IS EATING US, lord!” exclaimed the old peasant man groveling and clutching Karyl’s feet as he sat his father’s throne in Castle Mist.

  “It took my daughter!” the wild-haired middle-aged woman who’d accompanied him wailed.

  And suddenly, Karyl Vladevich Bogomirskiy’s day was worse than it began.

  “Monster?” he asked, acutely aware of the pressure of hostile eyes upon him.

  “A Slayer, lord!”

  And now it was the worst day. Since that day.

  Slayer was the vulgar word for what the Book of True Names called an Allosaurus fragilis: Nuevaropa’s biggest, fiercest, and most feared native predator. Karyl’s eyes filled with a vision of gigantic jaws drooling red-strung saliva. His mind went nearly white, and his heart nearly burst with terror.

  “I advised Voyvod Vlad not to go off and leave his stripling son, who may I remind you all is not yet twenty, to play at ruling the March while he’s away at his Grace the Grand Duke’s birthday festivities,” said the Archbishop of Mirkgrad from the chair to Karyl’s right. “Yet here the child’s in over his foolish head already.”

  “But if the boy’s ever going to prove himself,” purred Baroness Stechkina, leaning far forward in her seat on Karyl’s left, “now is his chance.”

  Karyl forced his hands to un-knot themselves from the throne’s iron arms before they cramped. It was easy to ignore the sneers of the half-dozen courtiers lounging about the great, gloomy, mold-smelling room: functionaries and landless knights seeking employment in his father’s endless wars. They were intrinsically faceless anyway, alike as scratcher chicks.

  But he wished he could ignore the faces of the advisers his father had set upon his flanks like hostile cavalry. Or the faces in the portraits that bedecked the high gray walls between torn and blood-splashed battle banners. They belonged to men and women with black hair and gazes like black lances.