by Laura Martin
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
HarperCollins Publishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins website address is:
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Text copyright © Laura Martin 2017
Cover artwork © Fred Gambino
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Laura Martin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008152925
Ebook Edition © 2017 ISBN: 9780008152932
Version: 2017-03-03
For all the teachers, librarians, and parents working to instill a love of reading in the hearts of the next generation. You are the true heroes of stories.
And to my mom, who first did that for me.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Also by the Author
About the Publisher
This was a bad idea. Spectacularly bad, actually. It went against everything I’d learned in my short time topside, but all that didn’t change what we had to do. I glanced back down at my dad’s map, but it showed the same thing it had always shown. The only way to get to Lake Michigan was to leave the shelter of the trees and make a run for it – in the open. My eyes flicked up to take in the sprawling grassland in question, filled, as I knew it would be, with dinosaurs.
A large herd of what I thought had to be Dracorex hogwartsia was grazing close enough for me to count the spikes that bristled all over their bony heads, making them resemble the dragons of fairy tales they were named after. But these creatures were not the stuff of fairy tales or history books. At least not anymore. Behind the herd of dracorex was a grassland that used to contain houses, roads, cars, and everything else humans had used to stake their claim on this earth. All that was gone now. Which made sense, I guess, considering the dinosaurs were the ones who ruled things these days.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Shawn muttered, running a hand through his blond hair so that it stood up in sweaty spikes. “There’s no way we can make it to the lake without getting eaten.”
“What’s your point?” Todd asked as he swung his arms in lazy circles to stretch out his shoulder muscles.
“My point,” Shawn said, grimacing, “is that there has to be a way around this, a way that isn’t so exposed. We’ve always gone around the open areas. Except,” he amended, “for that time we almost became a T. rex’s lunch.” He paused a moment, stifling a shudder. “At least in the trees the only dinosaurs we encountered were little ones. Out there,” he said, gesturing in front of us, “there’s nowhere to hide, no trees to climb, and nothing to slow down those massive monsters.”
“We knew that the closer to Lake Michigan we got, the more open it was going to be,” I said flatly. His attitude shouldn’t have surprised me. I’d grown up with Shawn in North Compound, and unlike Todd, who’d grown up topside, being aboveground was still an uncomfortable and terrifying experience for both of us. I just hid it better.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was going to be this open,” Shawn grumbled, and I tried not to roll my eyes as I turned my attention back to the grassland. I’d read that dinosaurs liked to congregate near a source of water, but this was a little ridiculous. Herds of green-, brown-, and amber-coloured dinosaurs were scattered in every direction as far as I could see. To our left, a large group of stegosaurs grazed quietly in the knee-high scrub grasses, the sun reflecting off the wide flat plates that sat in single file down their sloping backs.
“Try to relax,” I said, even as the knot in my gut twisted a little tighter. “If we read the map correctly, the lake should be just on the other side of those hills.”
“Dunes,” Todd corrected. “Those things that look like hills are called dunes.”
“What’s a dune?” Shawn asked.
“Big mounds of sand,” Todd explained. “They border the lake.”
I glanced back out across the tall wavy grasses, silently wishing Shawn was right and there was another way. While the prospect of finally getting to the lake sent a thrill of excitement through me, Shawn’s reminder of our last dash into the open made my already edgy nerves buzz uncomfortably. After a lifetime underground, we hadn’t known any better than to run across an open meadow. It had been the first of many near-death experiences. The note and map my dad had left for me, urging me to take his compass and the small memory plug it contained to Lake Michigan, hadn’t said anything about how to actually survive topside. That part we’d had to figure out the hard way.
I tugged at my ponytail to free it from the snarled thorns of the bush. A few curly red strands got caught in the branches, and they fluttered gently in the wind. I snatched them and shoved them in my pocket. I wasn’t taking any chances. North Compound’s marines had found us twice now. We’d eliminated any chance that we were carrying a tracking device, so that left the old-fashioned way of finding us. By foot. Ever since we’d realised this, we’d gone out of our way to hide all traces of our movements. Hopefully it would be enough. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. The tangy, earthy flavour of this topside world still felt foreign, but unfortunately, it did nothing to slow my hammering heart or shaking hands, so I balled them into fists and mentally commanded myself to get it together.
“Can we just get on with it?” I asked.
“Sure,” Todd said as he leant forward to stretch out his leg muscles.
Shawn scowled at Todd and then turned to me. “How are you so OK with potentially getting eaten alive?”
“Or trampled,” Todd added, adjusting his pack. “Don’t forget trampled.”
“If you were trying to make me feel better, you just failed miserably,” Shawn grumbled.
“I wasn’t.” Todd smirked. A week ago, that smirk would have fooled me. Now I could see the slight tension around his green eyes that gave away his own nerves. Seeing Shawn’s glowering face, Todd shrugged. “Look at it this way,” he said, gesturing to the massive dinosaurs. “If that many plant eaters are comfortable enough to feed, they don’t think there are any large predators around.”
“Yeah,” Shawn muttered. “But they could be wrong.”
“Just keep running no matter what happens,” Todd said. “Both of you are still too bad a shot to turn and fight if s
omething comes after us.”
“Hey,” I protested. “You said this morning that we were getting better.”
Todd wrinkled his nose apologetically. “I was being nice.”
“You aren’t nice.” Shawn scowled.
Todd laughed. “You are improving. Especially since you had that lesson with Ivan. You might actually be a step above horrendous now.”
“Well, that’s something,” Shawn mumbled.
My heart clenched painfully. Ivan should have caught up with us by now. Either he hadn’t survived his encounter with the marines two days ago, or something had happened to delay him. I swallowed hard, trying not to imagine all the terrible things that could slow down someone as savvy at surviving topside as my grandfather.
Todd looked at both of us in turn. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded, and Shawn grumbled something unintelligible. Todd must have taken that as confirmation, because he sprang up from the bushes and sprinted into the open.
“Really?” Shawn said, clambering to his feet. “Not even a one, two, three? Or a ready, get-set, go?” He was still grumbling under his breath as we took off after Todd.
The feeling of being exposed intensified as we left the looming shelter of the trees. Todd flew through the waist-high grasses, his long legs eating up the distance with powerful strides. Shawn and I were not powerful or fast. Short and stocky, Shawn pumped his arms, his face already flushed a bright red as he struggled to keep up. I wasn’t sure what I looked like, but I doubted it was much better.
The herd of stegosaurus picked their heads up, bugling a warning to their young, who quickly found shelter under their parents’ tree-trunk-like legs. Their wary brown eyes and solemn faces studied us as we passed. If I hadn’t been sucking air as fast as I could get it, I would have let out a sigh of relief. Todd had been fairly certain that they wouldn’t stampede and squash us, but fairly certain and certain were two very different things.
The wind whipped across the grasses, making them sway and bend like waves, and I looked back to see the trees quickly disappearing behind us. Suddenly my foot caught on a rock and I flew forward. I hit the ground hard, my hands thrown out instinctively in front of me. They landed in something soft and slimy, and an awful smell met my nose. Before I could figure out what I’d just fallen into, I was scrambling to my feet and running to catch up with Shawn and Todd. Glancing back, I saw a gigantic pile of what looked like fist-sized brown balls in a slightly smashed pile. My stomach rolled as I realised that I was liberally coated in what had to be fresh dinosaur poop.
Todd slowed his pace a few minutes later, allowing Shawn and me to catch up enough to run on either side of him.
“See dead ahead?” he asked, pointing. I tried not to be too bitter that he wasn’t even breathing hard. Following his finger, I spotted several large circular depressions in the ground, each of them with a pile of white ovals in the centre.
“Are those nests?” I asked.
“Yup.” Todd frowned. “Not sure of what, though.”
“They’re everywhere,” Shawn huffed as he took in the huge nests that lay in almost every direction.
“It’ll take too long to go around. We have to go through,” Todd said. “Whatever you do, don’t touch the eggs. Somewhere around here are their parents, and the last thing we want is for them to think we’re messing with their babies.”
“Got it,” Shawn said, shaking his sweat-drenched hair out of his eyes.
Todd turned to me, his nose wrinkled. “Did you fall in dinosaur dung?”
I grimaced. “Do you even have to ask?” The smell radiating off me alone should have been clue enough.
Todd shook his head, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Follow me,” he called, shooting ahead of us again as we entered the nesting area. The ground underfoot turned to sand, and suddenly running was even harder than it had been before. As we flashed past the nests, I caught a glimpse of the large white eggs, each delicately speckled with brown.
“Jump!” Todd yelled, leaping suddenly into the air. I jumped, glancing down to see a strip of three nests, side by side, impossible to avoid. Shawn was not as quick, and I heard a surprised grunt followed by a shower of sand spraying across my back. I whirled in time to see him sprawl, face-first, into the middle of a nest. A sharp crack rang out as his head hit one of the eggs. The shell buckled in and started oozing a clear liquid. Shawn sat up quickly, but in his attempt to get to his feet again he bumped the broken egg, sending it clattering into one of its neighbours. It split in two and a slim brown creature flopped out, struggling to free itself from a gooey membrane.
I stared in wonder.
“Not good,” Todd said in my ear, and I realised I’d stopped running. He lurched past me and yanked Shawn out of the sandy nest. The little brown dinosaur opened its mouth in a wordless cry, its eyes sealed shut.
“Take your tunic off,” Todd barked at Shawn, his face drawn and pale.
“What?” Shawn asked, trying in vain to wipe the goo from the egg out of his hair. Todd didn’t wait – ripping Shawn’s pack and large bow off his back, he thrust them into my arms and then yanked Shawn’s tunic up over his head. Shawn yelped in protest, but Todd was already chucking it away from us. Shawn grabbed his pack from me just as the tiny dinosaur let out a high-pitched cry that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Run,” Todd commanded. Shawn slung his pack and bow over his bare shoulders, and we took off. The screech of the tiny dinosaur followed us as we weaved through nest after endless nest. The sound of an ear-piercing shriek from behind us forced me to turn my head. To our left, still not much more than dots in the distance, was a herd of rust-coloured dinosaurs. And they were coming straight for us, fast.
“What are those?” Shawn called.
“The parents,” Todd called, putting on a burst of speed. I hadn’t thought it was possible to run any faster, but I found a reserve of strength and pushed harder.
The sound of the advancing dinosaurs grew more deafening by the second, their angry shrieks reverberating up my spine and right into my brain. I craned my neck to look back again. They were predators. If their rows of gleaming teeth hadn’t made that immediately obvious, the fact that they were running on well-muscled back legs sealed the deal. But it was their eyes that had me doing a double take. Unlike most dinosaurs I’d encountered, whose eyes were along the sides of their heads, these sat in the front under lethal-looking spikes, almost human in their positioning.
Suddenly the sand was deeper than before, and I looked up to see Todd on all fours scrambling up a mountain. The dunes, I thought as I automatically mimicked his movements. The sand burned under my hands as I fought to keep up. For every step I took, I felt like I slid back down two, and within moments my eyes, nose, and mouth were full of grit. The sound of Shawn’s hoarse breathing behind me made it obvious that he wasn’t faring much better, and even Todd was gasping for the first time. Despite everything, that fact scared me most of all. If Todd was struggling, did we even have a chance?
Reaching the top of the dune, Todd launched himself off the peak, soaring a good ten feet before landing in the soft sand of the downhill slope. He immediately jumped again to land with a spray of sand another ten feet down. There was no time to think about it. I jumped. The wind tore at my clothes, and my stomach dropped as the dune rushed up to meet me. When my feet finally touched down, they sank into the soft sand just long enough for me to take off again. But in that second of flying, I felt wildly and amazingly alive.
My elation fizzled when I saw Todd scrambling up another dune even bigger than the first. Blinking the grit out of my eyes, I followed. I hadn’t thought it was possible for anything to be harder than that first dune. I’d been wrong. My muscles shook and cramped in protest as I forced them to do battle with yet another endless sand mountain.
When we finally made it to the top, I turned back in time to watch the dinosaurs crest the first dune. The entire herd hadn’t pursued us, presumably leaving the m
ajority behind to defend the undisturbed nests. Not that it mattered. Even one of those beasts was more than our match. The handful still following us were much larger than I’d originally thought. At close to twenty feet from muscled tail to blunt snout, they were almost as big as the T. rex.
I looked ahead to see Todd and Shawn already halfway down the second dune, but before I took my own flying leap, I saw something that made me cry in relief. There, spread out as far as I could see, was Lake Michigan. My hand went involuntarily to the compass that hung around my neck. I’d made it. Almost. Three more dunes, smaller than the one I stood on, separated me from the lake and successfully delivering the data plug that, if my dad was right, meant the salvation of the human race. I leapt after Todd and Shawn.
The next two dunes were smaller, but our exhaustion made us clumsy and slow. Even Todd stumbled and slid backwards as we made our way up their hot, slippery surfaces. Luckily, the deep sand seemed to slow the smashed-faced dinosaurs down as well, and I heard their frustrated squeals every time we disappeared from sight over the top of a dune. Finally, we were climbing the last one.
Shawn was struggling more than me. The veins on his neck and forehead bulged, and sand stuck to his sweaty arms and shoulders like a mottled, grainy second skin. He looked to be on the verge of collapsing.
“We got this,” I encouraged him, grabbing his pack to keep him from slipping backwards again. “We’re almost there. The lake is just over the top of this dune.”
“Can’t. Breathe,” he gasped.
A triumphant roar sliced through the air as the dinosaurs crested the dune directly behind us. If we didn’t move, they’d be on us in seconds.
“Come on!” Todd shouted, and suddenly he was on the other side of Shawn. Together we hauled him up the dune. Instead of leaping off, we kind of tumbled and slid down the far side, sand spraying up to catch in my hair, tunic, and mouth.
We ran, arms churning, as we battled to make it to the water before the dinosaurs that were already sliding down the last dune. Even though the expanse of blue-gray water got closer and closer by the second, I knew we’d never make it. The dinosaurs were close enough that I could smell them now, a pungent mix of decay and old blood. This was where it was going to end.
