by C. G. Mosley
“Sweetheart, please don’t cry,” she said, her voice cracking.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that,” he said, brushing the moisture from his eyes. He quickly straightened up. “Lucy, I’ve got something I need to tell you.”
A look of concern flashed across her face, but Lucy patiently waited to hear exactly what that ‘something’ was.
“I’ve got to leave for a few days to take care of something,” he said. “I should be gone no more than a week at most.”
“And just where are you going?” she asked, obviously surprised by the news.
Jonathon thought to himself how nice it would be if people would just trust him and not ask questions. However, he knew that was wishful thinking.
“I don’t know how to say this without it sounding incredibly selfish,” he said. “I mean, you’re the one that is sick and I’m perfectly healthy. I’m the one who should be strong…I should be the rock that you—”
“Jonathon,” Lucy cut in. “Calm down and tell me what you need.” She sat up on the bed and put a comforting arm around him.
“I’ve just got to get away for a few days,” he said. “I just need to clear my head. I’m afraid I’m not doing you a lot of good right now, and I’ve just got a few things I need to work out.”
She stared at him, and he noticed the look of surprise on her face fade to sadness.
“It’s not you, Lucy,” he said softly. “I’ve got things to work out with me. I’m just going to go somewhere quiet and think. Dad is coming with me and Mom is going to stay here with you.”
Jonathon looked away from her. He didn’t know how she could possibly take anything he’d just said in a positive way. There was just no good way to explain why he’d leave her at a time in which she needed him most, and he couldn’t bear to see her break down and cry. If only he could tell her the real reason why he had to leave. If only she could know what he was about to go back to so that she could live.
“Okay,” she said after a brief moment of silence.
Jonathon whipped his head back around to face her. There were no tears in her eyes.
“Okay?” he said, unable to hide the bewilderment laced on that single word.
“Okay,” she said again, very nonchalantly. “I think you’re right. It would do us both good to take a little mini break from each other.”
Jonathon just stared at his wife in disbelief. Now he felt somewhat disappointed that his idea had not bothered her at least a little.
“Well, alright,” he said finally. “If you’re sure.”
Lucy gave a slight chuckle. “Well, it was your idea, dear,” she said. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’m sure. Dad and I will leave in the morning.”
“Alright,” she said. She took his hand once more and squeezed it. “Just be careful,” she said with piercing brown eyes that seemed to suggest she knew more than she let on.
Chapter 6
Glenn Hardcastle pulled the heavily armored jeep around to the main entrance of the base camp, or what their customers knew simply as the headquarters of Gill Enterprises. Once stopped, he beeped on the horn twice, and moments later, Dr. Casey Cruz trotted out and entered the vehicle.
“I don’t like leaving the facility,” Cruz said as he buckled in.
“Now that just don’t make a lot of sense, Doc,” Hardcastle replied. “You’re a dino scientist and you don’t want to be around the dinos?”
“No, I’m a paleontologist,” Cruz corrected him. “That means I study fossilized prehistoric life, not living, breathing dinosaurs.”
Hardcastle punched the accelerator and raced the heavy jeep through the main gate and onto the service road that circled the entire island. Their target was the southwest corner, and if they were lucky, they’d get an opportunity to study a Sarcosuchus up close. It was clearly not something Dr. Cruz was thrilled about doing, but Glenn was all about getting a thrill. Sarcosuchus would almost certainly provide that.
“Okay, I don’t understand why you’d take a job that gets you up close with real live dinosaurs if you have no desire to be around them,” Hardcastle said.
“Are you kidding?” Dr. Cruz answered. “How could one in my profession turn down such an opportunity as this when it was first presented? I was ecstatic when I first heard about this magical place. It was probably the most excited I’d been in my entire life.”
“So what is the problem?”
“The problem is that what we all perceived dinosaurs to be in our minds, and what they actually are, are two entirely different things. Most of the animals on this island are monsters—they’re killers! I admit I was a bit naïve when I took this job. I quickly discovered that I was much happier studying these animals when they were dead.”
“So why don’t you just quit then?” Hardcastle asked.
“The same reason you don’t,” Dr. Cruz said. “The money is too damn good.”
The jeep sped along the road at a fast pace and Hardcastle noticed a sharp turn ahead. He knew the road like the back of his hand and he took the turn wide. This was in an effort to keep the jeep speeding along as quickly as possible at all times. Through the years, they’d all discovered this was the safest way to travel. If one could keep a vehicle going around fifty mph, there stood a good chance of staying out of reach of any of the nasty dinosaurs that may be lurking nearby.
Also, the jeeps were painted in camouflage consisting of many different shades of green. This allowed the vehicle to blend in beautifully with the surrounding jungle foliage and decrease the possibility of being spotted. To top all of that off, the jeep was covered in a heavy cage with a mounted machine gun turret on the top. It was enough to provide a great deal of protection from even the largest predators on the island. The only lettering on the vehicle was a large G.E. logo painted in black and centered on the doors, obviously standing for Gill Enterprises.
“The money is only the biggest reason I hang around here,” Hardcastle said, continuing the conversation. “I also signed a contract that binds me for another six years, and to be totally honest, I love being on this side of the fence.”
“Then you’re nuts,” Dr. Cruz replied. “You’re going to get yourself killed, and do you think Eric will care?”
“Probably not,” Hardcastle admitted. “But that doesn’t bother me. This is a business, and I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to come here. I also know how hard it would be to replace me,” he added, smiling.
Hardcastle piloted the jeep for several more miles before they finally reached the southwest corner of the island. The terrain on that particular quadrant of land resembled something out of the bayous of Louisiana instead of a tropical paradise. Off the main road, it became quite swampy and completely impossible to drive through. Hardcastle hoped that they would not have to venture into the swamps to find the super-croc. The ideal situation would be luring and then catching the animal at the main road. There was little driving to do from that point to reach the coastline, and from there, they would be able to place the dinosaur on a barge and rendezvous with a ship in deeper water.
After bringing the jeep to an abrupt halt, Hardcastle immediately stood and took position on the machine gun turret mounted on top of the cage. He swiveled the gun in all directions, scanning the environment for any movement at all.
“Okay, it’s clear,” he announced.
Dr. Cruz pulled an expensive-looking pair of binoculars from the center console and began searching the surrounding swamp for any sign of Sarcosuchus.
“Anything?” Hardcastle whispered.
“Not yet,” Cruz replied. “If there is one nearby, it is most likely submerged in water. We just need to wait for a little while.”
“Patience is not one of my best traits,” Hardcastle grumbled.
“If you want to see one of these things, it’s going to have to be.”
***
An hour had passed and there had been no sign of Sarcosuchus.
�
��This isn’t happening,” Hardcastle said. “I think we need to try and develop some sort of trap and come back.”
Dr. Cruz glanced up at Glenn from his seated position and rolled his eyes. “Really? You think we can come up with a trap for an animal that big?”
“If we put our heads together, it’s possible,” Hardcastle replied. He angrily slapped at his neck in an attempt to flatten a bothersome mosquito.
Dr. Cruz shook his head and was just about to argue when a loud splashing sound erupted from somewhere off to his right. Hardcastle swung the heavy gun around in the direction from which the sound originated. The only evidence that remained was a massive rippling in the water thirty yards away.
“What the hell was that?” Hardcastle asked.
“I don’t know,” Dr. Cruz answered, “but I don’t think it was our croc…it wasn’t a big enough splash.”
Hardcastle suddenly heard something pattering across the sandy road behind them. He spun around with the gun gripped firmly in his hands, ready to unleash a firestorm if need be. What he saw behind them was not what he expected. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
“You’re right, it wasn’t Sarcosuchus,” he said quietly. “It’s just a hadrosaur.”
Dr. Cruz slowly stood up beside Hardcastle for a better look. “Ah, that’s an anatotitan,” he said confidently. “Probably just munching on some of the cypress trees that grow here; I’ve noticed they’re quite fond of it. It’s probable that they’re the main source of food for Sarcosuchus.”
The anatotitan appeared to be roughly seven feet tall and its skin was an odd shade of orange. It fed on a cypress tree limb it had apparently snatched off a tree in the murky waters of the swamp. The animal chewed slowly with its duck-like bill and seemed completely indifferent to the pair of gawking humans watching from the nearby armored vehicle. It took its time, appearing to savor each bite as if it would be the hadrosaur’s last meal.
Suddenly, with absolutely no warning at all, a pair of massive, hellish jaws burst from the water beside the road and clamped down onto the unsuspecting hadrosaur. The entire anatotitan, save half its tail, became enveloped inside the massive Sarcosuchus’s jaws. As the dinosaur increased the bite pressure, the helpless hadrosaur ceased moving. Sarcosuchus began to open and close its large maw, and threw its head back so that its prey would slide further and further into the jaws and throat.
“Oh my God,” Dr. Cruz said, his voice trembling. “That creature is massive.”
“I’ve seen one bigger,” Hardcastle whispered. “That’s not the one I’ve seen.”
“That one is big enough,” Dr. Cruz said as he reached down for his notepad. He began furiously scribbling notes.
“So where do you think the money shot is gonna be?” Hardcastle asked.
“Oh, it’s quite obvious there is only one really good spot,” Dr. Cruz replied, pointing at the animal with his pen. “Just behind the head—around the neck area—seems to be the softest spot. The rest of that hide is entirely too tough. We’ll have to double up the dosage; it’s going to take far more than I anticipated.”
The Sarcosuchus consumed the entire hadrosaur in mere minutes, and then it slowly dragged the rest of its submerged body from the murky roadside water. The animal looked like a nearly perfect copy of modern-day crocodiles, only frighteningly larger. When all forty feet of the Sarcosuchus was out of the water, the animal then turned into the direction of the jeep, only thirty yards away.
“What is that thing doing?” Hardcastle asked, his finger lightly resting on the trigger.
“I’m not sure,” Dr. Cruz replied. “He just ate, surely he’s not—”
It was at that moment that the massive crocodile scrambled frantically toward them, its jaws snapping as it charged. Hardcastle could see bloodstained teeth and rotting flesh within those terrifying jaws. He heard Dr. Cruz shout an obscenity, but he couldn’t make out the exact choice of word.
“Get this jeep moving! NOW!” Hardcastle howled.
Dr. Cruz immediately scrambled into the driver seat, and it became nauseatingly clear that there was no way the jeep would get rolling before Sarcosuchus made it to them. Hardcastle did the only thing he could do: he squeezed the trigger on the powerful machine gun and the weapon erupted with a flurry of large-caliber bullets. The firepower made the jeep lurch and sent a wall of sand into the air as the bullets slammed into the earth just mere feet in front of the rampaging croc. The disruption gave them the mere seconds needed for Dr. Cruz to get the jeep rumbling down the service road and back to safety.
“Did you hit him?” Cruz shouted.
“No, I wasn’t trying to,” Hardcastle replied calmly.
“What? Why the hell not?”
“Because those things are in short supply as it is. We need one alive, and the last thing I want to do is make this task harder for us.”
Dr. Cruz shook his head and did not offer a reply. He kept his eyes on the road and his foot firmly on the accelerator all the way back to base camp.
Chapter 7
On the way to Fort Lauderdale, Florida…
“You never told me you knew Silas Treadwell,” Henry said, somewhat star struck.
“Well, as you’ve found out over the past couple of days, there’s actually a lot I haven’t told you, Dad,” Jonathon replied. “Don’t worry; he’s a real down to earth guy. You’ll like him.”
“Wild World has been my favorite nature program for the past twenty years,” Henry said. “Ole Silas has had many close calls with everything from lions to Komodo dragons, and somehow he always comes away unscathed. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Well, I assure you that all of those animals don’t hold a candle to a rampaging tyrannosaur, Dad,” he replied.
Henry just shook his head and stared out the window without saying a word. Jonathon suspected something was on his mind.
“Dad, something seems to be bothering you,” he said. “How about you tell me what it is?”
Henry glanced over at his son and smiled an uneasy smile. “Son, it’s just that all this talk about dinosaurs is still hard for me to grasp. It’s still sinking in.”
Jonathon sighed and paused a moment before speaking. “Are you saying that you don’t believe me?”
Henry turned in his seat to look at Jonathon. “No! Of course I’m not saying that, son. I believe you,” he said, almost pleading. “But surely you understand how bizarre and unbelievable it sounds—even more so after I had time to think about it.”
“Yes, I know how crazy it sounds, and I suppose I felt some of the same emotions you’re feeling right now, but trust me,” Jonathon’s words became deadly serious, “when you see some of the horrors that live on that island, it will become VERY real.”
Henry swallowed. “I’m sure it will,” he said very quietly.
A few hours later, Jonathon wheeled the rental car into the nearest available parking spot at the marina and then immediately popped the trunk. He went to retrieve his gear and Henry did the same. Jonathon grabbed his wide-brimmed field hat and placed it on his head. He then unzipped his pack and retrieved the large hunting knife that saved his life more than once on his last visit to the island; he took a moment to fasten the knife’s holster onto his belt. Henry retrieved a straw hat from the trunk, a cheap Panama Jack brand, and then grabbed his own bag of supplies. Jonathon was dressed in his usual field gear: durable brown cargo pants, work boots, and a gray button-up shirt. Henry wore his sport coat, oxford shirt, and khaki pants. He was hardly dressed in the proper attire for the trip, but Jonathon had been unable to convince him otherwise.
“Don’t you think we need some sort of firearm?” Henry asked, glancing at Jonathon’s knife. “I mean, I’m pretty good with a knife too, but can you even kill a dinosaur with that thing?”
Jonathon smiled, and patted the knife. “This one has killed two as a matter of fact, and as far as guns go, I assure you that Silas has that covered.”
“You’re darn r
ight about that,” a gruff voice said from behind them.
Jonathon turned to see Silas standing there. He was decked out in similar attire from their last visit to the island. A bush hat was on his head, and the tan shirt, shorts, and hiking boots completed the outfit nicely. One glaring difference was that almost all signs of blond in his hair and beard was all but gone and replaced completely with white.
“You look like Santa Claus,” Jonathon said.
“What can I say?” Silas replied. “Time has never been good to me.”
“I think you look pretty good myself,” Henry said, holding out his hand.
Silas took it and shook it firmly. “Thank you, sir,” he replied. “You must be Henry Williams, the sire of this crazy kid.”
“That would be me,” Henry replied, looking over at Jonathon, rather puzzled.
Silas caught on to Henry’s bewilderment and said, “Jonathon, what all have you told your dad about our time in the Bermuda Triangle?”
“The bare minimum,” he answered. “The dinosaurs, the thugs, the fountain—isn’t that enough?”
Silas laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “What about the tyrannosaur that chased you off a cliff? Or how about those flying lizards that tried to eat you? Or the explosion on the ship that almost—?”
“Silas, okay,” Jonathon snapped. “Fine, I didn’t tell him everything—and they’re not flying lizards, they’re called pterosaurs.”
Henry stared at his son, wide-eyed.
“Dad, don’t look at me like that.”
