by Anna Martin
“Your lecture was fascinating, Dr. Beck,” the taller woman said, offering a hand for him to shake. “I’m Marie Sterling. This is my wife, Helena.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking hers, then the shorter, blond woman’s hand. “Kit’s told me a lot about you.”
“Funny, we only heard about you yesterday,” Helena said.
Logan tried very hard not to blush. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, for lack of anything better.
Both women broke into delighted laughter, causing their son to look around in alarm. Kit quickly said goodbye to his colleague and came over to join them.
“Logan, you met my parents?” he said, his brow still furrowed.
“Oh, don’t look so worried,” Helena said. “We’re making friends.”
“I’m sure,” he said drily.
“Would you like to join me for lunch?” Logan asked in a rush, wanting desperately to at least move this conversation on.
“We have plans,” Marie said, looking genuinely regretful. “Possibly tomorrow, though? We’re heading out to the observation deck.”
“You booked them to go out to the deck?” Logan said to Kit.
“Yes. Should I not have done that?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Logan said in a rush. “It’s just… I’d love to take you out, if you’d like that. I have a Jeep that has enough space for passengers.”
“Off the beaten track?” Marie asked, sounding thrilled at the idea.
“Sure.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Kit said quietly.
“Hush, you,” Helena said, slapping at his arm. “We’d love to, Logan. What a nice offer.”
“I have to check on our saltasaurus. We’re expecting to see their infants any time now. Their nests are very sheltered, though, so we haven’t been able to get close enough to determine any live births.”
“They’re the big sauropods, right?”
“Right,” Logan said. “Like diplodocus and brontosaurus. But saltasaurus are much smaller than those species. There aren’t any animals over thirteen or fourteen feet tall on the islands.”
“I’m so excited,” Marie said. “What time should we be ready?”
“Five?” Logan said. Both women winced. “I’m sorry. It’s just better if we get an early start.”
“That’s fine,” Helena said. She gripped her wife’s hand and threaded their fingers together, the gesture so familiarly intimate it made Logan smile. “We’ll be ready.”
“Are you coming too?” Logan said to Kit.
“If I’m invited?”
“You’re invited,” Logan laughed.
“Then yeah. Though that’s a very early start for me.”
“Kit likes his bed,” Helena said.
“Mom!”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Logan said. “I’m going to go extract our test subject from my office.”
“Have fun with that.” Kit smiled, and Logan wanted to touch him, like his parents did so openly. For now, he kept his hands to himself, though. “See you in the morning.”
Five a.m. starts weren’t really a big deal to Logan. He was a light sleeper anyway. He could, and would, nap on any semiflat surface to catch up if needed.
Dizzy woke up at least once during the night, usually to find something to eat and to use her litter box—or not, depending on her mood. They were working on it. Logan was thankful for the hardwood floors in his apartment. He usually heard her shuffling around the dark bedroom around two in the morning before she fell back asleep on a sweatshirt he was definitely not ever getting back.
He wasn’t entirely sure how she’d do with the trip out onto the West Island, especially if they did get up close and personal with some of the other species. But if she was going to stick around, Logan was going to have to figure these things out sooner or later.
He had two vehicles for work—the truck was heavily armored, the Jeep less so, but more comfortable for fitting all five of them in. At least for this first trip, he had several other people to keep Dizzy safe if anything did approach them.
It was still hazy predawn when Logan pulled on his usual uniform of shorts, T-shirt, and sweater. After tucking Dizzy into her sling, he made sure his backpack was stocked with everything he’d set aside the night before.
He walked over to the apartment block. It was quicker, and his Jeep was parked in the lot close to the lab buildings. There was a sharp chill in the air, and Dizzy burrowed deeper into the sling, making little noises of protest as she sought out the warmth of Logan’s chest.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, tucking the fabric around her more securely.
The Sterlings—all three of them—were waiting on the front steps of the apartment block as promised. Kit looked bleary-eyed, but his moms seemed awake enough.
“Morning,” Logan called.
“Is this the dissimosaur?” Marie asked as he approached. “Oh God. Oh my God.”
Logan couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. “Yeah. This is Dizzy. She’s a bit cold right now, though. She’ll probably come out to say hello once we’re in the car.”
“Sure,” Marie said. But Logan could tell she was itching to touch.
He led them to the small parking lot where the island vehicles were kept, unlocked the Jeep, and quickly went about checking that all his equipment was in place.
“You take guns with you?” Helena asked, standing at the trunk with him and looking over his inventory.
“Yes. Three, usually, though it depends. If I’m out on my own, I might only take two.” He beckoned her closer to explain. “I have a tranq handgun, a regular tranq rifle, and a shotgun. I’ve only ever used the first two.”
“For defense?”
“Nope. We’re in the process of tagging and tracking certain species on both islands to monitor their migratory patterns. That includes some of the predators, but not all of them.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ve got a lot of experience with big African predators, Ms. Sterling. The animals here are completely different. Until we know a lot more about them, I won’t put myself or my staff at risk.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“If we get out of the car, I’ll have the handgun on me at all times. You okay with that?”
“Of course.”
He smiled. Helena had pulled her hair back into a loose bun today and was wearing a denim shirt and khaki shorts with sensible walking boots. Marie wore an expensive camera on a strap around her neck. Kit had told him how his moms had discovered the joy of hiking in the past few years, and it showed.
“Do you mind if I take pictures?” she asked, raising the camera in question.
“No, that’s fine. I just don’t want to be in them, if possible.”
“For legal reasons?”
“Nah, I’m just not very photogenic.”
She laughed at that. “I think you’re very handsome, Dr. Beck. I think my son agrees.”
“Let’s get moving, shall we?” Kit said, clapping his hands, and Marie pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his forehead before letting him go.
The two women took the back seat, and Logan transferred Dizzy to Kit’s lap before he pulled the car out of the lot.
“Is she sleeping?” Marie asked, leaning through the gap between the front seats.
“Looks like it,” Kit told her. “She still sleeps a lot at the moment. Like most infants, I guess. She has bursts of activity that seem to exhaust her. Then she sleeps for hours after.”
Logan watched as Kit gently unwrapped the fabric of the sling, revealing Dizzy curled up on herself.
“Oh, she’s gorgeous,” Marie breathed. “Do you know how old she is?”
“Only a few months. We’re not entirely sure.”
“Okay,” Logan said, interrupting as they approached the bridge. “There’s a few rules I need to talk you through as we head out. Just to let you know, I’ve made a log with our internal registration system that keeps track of every vehicle th
at leaves the South Island and who’s in it. There’s a tracker within the car that sends a constant signal back to base camp. If for any reason that signal breaks, a phone call will be triggered to my phone. If I don’t answer, then a search and rescue team will be deployed within ten minutes.”
“Impressive,” Marie said.
“Necessary,” Logan corrected. After he’d been attacked, Logan had spent a week reviewing and updating all of the security procedures. He could handle getting hurt himself, but he wasn’t going to put any of his team in danger. “We don’t take any risks. I ordered lunch, so that’s packed away in a special container so the animals don’t smell it. Do you have any food on you?”
“Just water.”
“That’s fine.”
He took a moment to check over the warning system on the bridge, then started across it.
“Once we get out onto the island, I need your assurance that you’ll follow my instructions without hesitation. I won’t ever intentionally put anyone in a dangerous situation, though this is an inherently dangerous place, and you need to be on your guard. Also, I should probably tell you there is no guarantee that we’ll see anything more than tropical birds. The dinosaurs that have lived here for almost seventy million years are secretive and don’t like being disturbed. They typically live deep in the jungle, and most of them are wary of wide, open spaces.”
He looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “That being said, I know where they hide.”
Once across the bridge, Logan turned right as they headed into the island and up, onto the road that followed the curve of the beach that led to the observation deck. It provided the best vantage point to stop and look down into the forest, and maybe catch a glimpse of one of the dinosaurs.
Visitors wanted to see dinosaurs they recognized, and the agile, feathery animals that held the territory near the observation deck were often disappointing. Logan had been asked, more than once, to build another observation deck closer to the sandbank that connected the West and North Islands. But he kept refusing. It was too dangerous, and too close to coelurosaur territory.
Coelurosaurs were a group of dinosaurs that included species including Tyrannosaurus rex and the carnotaurus that had attacked Logan. The animals that had been identified as coelurosaurs on the North Island were difficult to describe, though if there was one thing everyone could agree on, it was that they had evolved significantly from any animal found in the fossil record. These coelurosaurs were about six feet tall, walked on their hind legs, and were predators. For that reason, Logan didn’t ever get too close to them. They appeared to be fairly still, slow-moving animals, likely scavengers. Logan wasn’t willing to test that theory, though. As predators, they weren’t likely to turn down a meal that fell in their lap.
Logan was very sure he did not want to end up as a meal.
“Logan,” Kit said, slapping at his arm. “Pull over.”
He did, craning his neck out the window to look at the small animals scurrying through the undergrowth.
“Huh,” he said. “Those are ornithomimus. That’s good news and bad.”
Helena was practically in Marie’s lap, looking out the window as the herbivores stopped moving and looked back at the car. The ornithomimus were fast-moving, the gazelles of this world, about five or six feet long when fully grown. They had distinctive beaked mouths, which helped them graze on different types of vegetation, and feathered forearms.
“How is this bad?” Marie breathed. She lifted her camera and took a few snaps.
“You can put the window down,” Logan said. “They’re not any risk to us, and if they’re around, it means the coelurosaurs are nowhere near. Ornithomimus are the dinosaurs we see most often in this area. They’re fairly common and seem to spread over both islands in a few different social groups—unlike the dissimosaurs, who stick together in tight herds.”
“Is that one of your tags?” Kit asked, pointing to one of the animals’ flanks, which showed a long scar.
“No. All my tags go into the scruff of the animal’s neck or their hind leg. And they’re like the same tags used on domestic cats and dogs. That’s from a predator attack, likely an oviraptor. He was lucky to get away.”
Logan knew that from experience.
He drove for another hour or so, taking them deeper into the thick jungle, following the natural tree line that made this part of the island accessible. It was familiar enough to him, but he’d never taken anyone other than an intern with him before. It wasn’t that he was nervous, not exactly. He was just… cautious.
Helena and Marie were pretty much the perfect tourists. They listened, asked questions, and poked at both Logan and Kit’s particular expertise.
He came around a curve and slammed on the brakes. His heart was suddenly hammering in his chest. Not ten feet away from them was a carnotaurus—an adult male—and it had definitely noticed the Jeep.
Logan was not excited to be staring one down again.
It wasn’t the same animal that Logan had encountered before; this one was much bigger. They weren’t too far from the quadrant where Logan had been attacked, which made sense, considering the animal who had attacked him was a juvenile. He was probably still working out his own territory and hadn’t strayed far from his family group.
Even as he watched the new animal, Logan couldn’t help but make mental notes. It seemed like the carnotaur territory had moved. Interesting.
“Holy shit,” Kit breathed.
“Windows up,” Logan snapped. “Stay still.”
“Is that a col… a coel…?”
“Carnotaurus,” Kit told Helena under his breath. “They’re the largest predator here. I’ve never been this close—”
“I have,” Logan said drily.
The carnotaur jerked his head a few times, still staring at the Jeep. He stood maybe eight feet tall, with the familiar theropod stature: big head, tiny arms, walking on strong hind legs. He looked almost like a small T. rex, though his snout was longer, and he likely wouldn’t grow any larger than his current size.
His head and upper body were covered in scruffy, reddish brown downy feathers that faded away on his hind legs, not unlike an ostrich. The carnotaurus worked his jaw, clearly trying to decide whether they were a threat, then turned and abruptly walked deeper into the forest.
Logan wanted nothing more than to stick a needle in the big bastard.
“I’m gonna see if I can tag him.”
“Are you crazy?” Kit demanded. “You’re going to get eaten, Logan.”
“No, I won’t.” He was already unbuckling his seat belt and reaching for the tranq gun. “Can you shoot?”
“No, I can’t fucking shoot,” Kit said. He sounded a little hysterical.
“I can,” Marie said from the back seat.
“Okay.” Logan handed her the second gun. “Don’t shoot me, for fuck’s sake. This is a smaller dose than what I have loaded, but it should slow him down. Kit, hold on to Dizzy. If anything happens, get the fuck out of here. Don’t get out of the car.”
“Logan, seriously. You don’t have to do this.”
“I’ll be fine,” Logan said. He hesitated, then leaned over and kissed Kit’s cheek quickly. “Don’t get out of the car.”
Then he was shouldering his pack and out of the car.
As he’d hoped, the carnotaurus hadn’t gone far. It was a little farther into the woods, in a clearing. Which was excellent. It was uncertain about the Jeep, of who the dominant creature was, and had retreated instead of challenging them. The space was perfect—Logan could take him down in the clearing without causing any damage to the animal.
Logan crouched on the ground and steadied the gun along the hood of the car. The heat in this part of the forest was thick, the air still except for the buzz of insects. The carnotaurus was watching him, cocking his head in that curious way Dizzy did. It was so expressively birdlike.
Logan inhaled, held his breath, and shot the tranq dart as he exhaled. It landed perfec
tly in the animal’s neck. It stared at Logan for a moment in shock, then roared, a terrifying sound. It took one step forward, then keeled over.
Thank fuck for that. Logan’s dosage had been perfect.
Now that the carnotaur was down, the forest was still and silent, with no noise from any other animals nearby. Which was right, if this was carnotaur territory. Logan had classified them as lone wolves, sticking close to their mothers until they reached adolescence, then peeling off on their own. Logan had estimated six to eight of them across the two islands. Perfect population balance, though serious risk of inbreeding. Maybe that didn’t matter to dinosaurs, though. Their geneticists were still trying to figure it out.
“Cover me,” Logan said to Marie as he edged toward the carnotaur. It was breathing fine, its eyes glassy. Without taking his eyes off the animal, Logan reloaded the tranq gun with a smaller dose and shot him again, this time in the flank. The carnotaur barely twitched.
Moving quickly now, Logan edged forward and pulled his blood kit from the pack. He snapped on gloves and removed the two tranquilizer darts from the animal’s body, then tossed them to one side to pick up on his way back. He was used to drawing blood from dinosaurs now, knowing the best places to pierce through thick skin and armored plating. The carnotaur was fairly easy; he went for the thigh and was rewarded on his first attempt.
Logan vaguely recognized he was going into some kind of fight-or-flight response, his heart pounding rapidly against his chest. This was incredibly dangerous, possibly stupid, and Kit was going to go nuts when they were back at base. He checked the area again, his senses hyperalert, but there was no sign of any other animals.
With three good-sized vials of blood clutched in one hand, Logan acted on another impulse and pulled a handful of feathers from the animal’s flank. He had no idea what his colleagues would do with them, but he wasn’t planning on repeating this little adventure again anytime soon.
There was a microchip tracker loaded into the special syringe in his pack, and Logan quickly found it and injected it under the animal’s skin. It was almost identical to the ones used on domestic animals, just bigger. Microchips used on cats were about the size of a grain of rice. This was about three times that size, but still tiny compared to the size of the animal.
