“I can give you your shot,” Bridget said. “Is your pin in your jacket pocket?”
His eyes half-open, he shook his head. “In my carry-on with my phone.”
Kathy looked up at the others. “Well, this is just great.”
“Forgot to shoot-up…this morning. Need insulin…might die—” Stinky’s eyes closed. His head cocked to the side, and his mouth dropped open wide.
Taking a deep breath, Kathy said, “Was he being dramatic? That drink he had was nearly pure alcohol.”
“No, it looks like he’s drifted into a diabetic coma,” Bridget said.
“How bad is that? Does he just need to sleep it off?” Kathy asked.
“No, it’s really bad,” Bridget said. “It could lead to brain damage or death. We have to get that man his insulin.”
“There’s a pharmacy three blocks up St. Peter,” Dave said.
“But the dinosaurs…” Breaux said and suddenly felt petty for his disregard of the used car king’s health.
“Three blocks is not that far,” Bridget said. “We can’t sit here and let him die. That would make us responsible for his death.”
Leave it to Bridget to put things in honest perspective. She essentially built a wall with only one door leading out. Did anyone have the nerve to selfishly choose to stay and not risk their life for another? Breaux knew he wanted that, but this whole mess was his fault to begin with.
“He’s a big man,” Dave said. “It will be difficult to carry him.”
“Yeah, but he’s short, and fat doesn’t weigh as much as muscle,” Kathy said. “Let’s look around this place. Maybe we can find a table with wheels…or something we can use to make a stretcher.”
Breaux watched as the other three split and searched the store. Even though his heart wasn’t into it, he went through the motions and did the same.
He meandered over to a display case holding antique firearms. They were of the flintlock variety and useless as a weapon. Two items in the case caught his eye.
Laying on a red velvet cloth, a polished Confederate Cavalry Officer’s Saber gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. The price tag showed the happy customer could take it home for the meager price of $6,750; which was a lot more than the cash he had in his pocket or even the limit on his credit card.
“Hey, I think I found something we can use,” Dave said.
Breaux heard cyclical squeaking and turned and saw the young man pushing an old wheelbarrow. It had a rusty looking bed and a solid rubber tire. The handles looked in decent shape.
So, it appeared they would leave soon. If they were going to make a run for it, it only made sense to arm themselves.
Breaux and his roommate were part of the fencing team in college. He was among the best, if he did say so himself. That seemed forever ago, though.
He walked behind the counter and opened the display from the rear. He picked up the sword and held it in front of him. The sword was heavier than his fencing saber, but the balance felt nice. Using it in an actual battle would slow down some of his moves.
Next to the officer’s sword, a Confederate D-Guard Bowie knife waited for purchase for $7,000. Well, the knife did have the original sheath to go with it.
Breaux and his roommate would practice duel wielding just to hone their skills, as actual fencing tournaments didn’t include the two sword option.
The Bowie knife was about a foot long. He pulled it out of the case with his left hand and rotated his wrist. This would work as a parrying dagger, he thought.
Holding the weapons made him feel a little more secure. A portion of youthful exuberance must have simmered inside. Still, what could two primitive swords do to stop a raging dinosaur? Breaux had no desire to find out.
“Doc, what are you doing back there?” Bridget asked while standing next to Kathy and Dave.
Stinky was in the wheelbarrow. His arms and legs drooped over the bed nearly touching the floor.
He held up the two swords. “I’m going to borrow these.”
Stepping toward him, Bridget said, “Really, Doc? A sword and a big knife?” She lowered her head and gazed questionably at him. “What do you plan on doing with those?”
“I don’t plan on doing anything with them,” Breaux said, not appreciating the tone. Bridget had come off as a brooding mother who didn’t want her little boy to hurt himself. “We are leaving a perfectly secure place to foolishly risk our lives for one man.” Darn it! Breaux had betrayed himself in front of the group. He had been keeping his feelings in check, but Bridget had pushed him too far.
Not wanting to start a debate on staying or going, Breaux continued, “If we are attacked, we have at least something besides our bare hands to defend ourselves.” He then stepped from the back of the counter and headed toward the door.
Breaux peered through the front windows; shifting his gaze carefully around. “I don’t see anything of concern out there now.”
The wheel squeaked again as Dave pushed Stinky toward the front.
“Is he heavy?” Bridget asked.
“Not too,” Dave said. “The wheelbarrow is sturdier than I thought it would be. I wish it had an inflatable tire instead of a solid one, though.”
“If you get tired, I can take over,” Bridget said.
Breaux looked at the portly man in the wheelbarrow. His heart sank a bit as Stinky simply looked pitiful. Another wave of regret washed over him for saying that trying to save the poor man was foolish.
“Are we good to go?” Kathy asked as she waited by the door.
“As near as I can tell,” Breaux said.
Kathy twisted the thumbturn on the deadbolt.
The metallic click started the race.
The flight attendant exited first; with Dave close behind doing the heavy lifting.
Bridget followed, and Breaux pulled up the rear.
The street was deserted for at least a few blocks, though Breaux thought he saw cars ahead at an intersection.
The professor suddenly felt exposed, as if he were naked walking through a pit of vipers. There was an eerie background roar; screams, reptilian hiss-cries, and gunshots told the story that the good times were not rolling anymore.
“Those are police cars up there!” Bridget said with excitement in her voice.
They had passed an intersection without encountering any surprises. Just two more blocks to go. The incessant, cycling squeak from the wheelbarrow really pricked Breaux’s nerves. It reminded him of a wounded bird just begging for a predator to find and eat it.
“Can you take over for a minute,” Dave said to Bridget.
“Sure.”
Dave stopped and set the wheelbarrow legs on the street. He flexed his arms and fingers, to get new blood circulating, and to loosen his tight muscles.
Bridget was a real trooper. She had Stinky up and rolling at a steady pace.
They were going to make it! One more block and a half and they would arrive at the line of police cars.
Breaux realized he had been running with a knife and a sword the whole time and thought of the old saying that you shouldn’t run with scissors. He was such a manly man to live this dangerously. The thought made him smile. Soon, they would be in a safe place, and Stinky would get his life-saving insulin.
He needed to be protective of the two blades too. Replacing them would cost nearly $15,000. Now he felt a bit silly for taking the weapons in the first place. Really, what could he possibly have done to stop a raging dinosaur? He’d probably throw them down and run had they been attacked.
“I’ll take back over,” Dave said.
Bridget complied, and Dave powered the wheelbarrow once again.
As they crossed the next intersection, a young boy rounded the corner of a building, holding a tall bucket he probably used as a drum to perform street music for tips. It shocked Breaux when the boy’s feet left the ground as a reptilian head lifted him by his shirt collar.
Dr. Bryan Breaux froze. A troodon had control of the boy and would
soon eviscerate him.
The other three carried on down St. Peter; apparently so caught up in their flight they didn’t notice the boy or dinosaur when they had passed.
He almost bolted after them.
But he couldn’t.
The boy was too scared to scream, but he loudly whimpered in fear.
This was it. Breaux could either choose to live or risk dying right now.
Life would not be worth living with the memory of doing nothing to save an innocent child.
He yelled at the beast as a challenge.
“Dr. Breaux!” Bridget called, apparently she had heard him too.
“Keep going!” he yelled back. This was no time to endanger any more lives.
The troodon had taken note of the human who approached to take its prize. It widened its lips to expose teeth and hissed while keeping its hold on the boy.
As Breaux neared, the dinosaur turned around to flee with its food. The professor flung at the troodon; using a flying leap added speed and power to his saber’s jab.
The blow struck haphazardly placed, but the blade pushed past skin on its back and hit bone.
The troodon snapped its head around and hissed again.
Its mouth empty, Breaux saw the boy picking himself off the ground.
“Run!” Breaux shouted.
He didn’t have to give the warning twice. The boy left his bucket and tore down St. Peter Street. Breaux caught a glimpse of Bridget rushing to meet him before the troodon took its turn to attack.
The head on the long neck shot toward him. The dinosaur was too close to use his saber, so he brought the Bowie knife around and connected with the left side of its face. He did this while using a fencing move called the passata sotto, an evasive movement where he dropped his body below where teeth were intended to connect.
The knife blade bit deep into jaw and snout. The troodon backed away a few steps. Blood and slimy liquid dripped from its nose and mouth.
Having a momentary advantage, Breaux used a series of feints to confuse and attack the wounded dinosaur. His footwork was better than he thought after all those years since college. His swordsmanship too felt natural, despite the heavier saber.
The troodon tried once again to bite his head, but Breaux managed to dive to the side and hack into its neck where the blade cut halfway through.
The blow sent the troodon staggering.
This was no time to show quarter.
Breaux unleashed a remise, a short series of attacks where he at no time would withdraw his weapon.
The neck wound bled profusely. The jugular probably had been severed. Blood pooled so much under Breaux’s feet he could hear it splash.
Now swaying like a sapling in a strong wind, Breaux performed his final lunge to the troodon’s heart.
The dinosaur flopped onto the street. Its eyes glassy and void of life as they looked toward the sky.
Dr. Bryan Breaux had done the impossible. He had won.
Blood from the dinosaur stained the polished blade of the saber. He looked at it and remembered hearing stories of how hunters rubbed blood on a new hunter, after their first kill.
He brought the blade near his face and brushed it against both of his cheeks.
His chest swole as he thought of rescuing the boy. But then, he remembered how this whole mess was his fault. How many more young boys weren’t saved today? How many people would die because of him?
He took a deep breath and let some of the burdens go. He had no idea the entangle experiment would go awry. The time shift was out of his control. A similar result was more than likely to happen when the Q device was used again. Still, he was the catalyst who ushered in this destruction. That was a fact he was just going to have to learn to live with. And, he vowed to use the gift of his second chance at life unselfishly and truly help others in need.
Shouts from up the street broke him from his reverie. He saw Bridget, Dave, Kathy, and the boy waving to him.
Breaux took one last look at the dead troodon and gave thanks that he was blessed to have won. He turned and trotted up the street to the welcoming cheers and slaps on the back from Bridget and his new friends. The boy ran over and hugged his leg.
Medical professionals had Stinky on a stretcher and attended to him.
“Doc, I had no idea you were such a swordsman,” Bridget said, a smile stretched across her face.
“That was some great footwork you had out there,” Dave said.
“Great job, Dr. Breaux. You’re a hero,” Kathy said.
Breaux looked at Bridget, knowing the irony of the situation. He would say nothing contrary, though.
“The police said the National Guard is on its way,” Bridget said. “They’re escorting people in groups to the Super Dome. Come on, there’s another group going soon, and we can go with them.”
The professor looked down into the face of the boy who still clutched his leg. “Hey, little man. You ready to leave and go to the Super Dome?”
“Are the Saints playing?” the boy innocently asked.
Breaux laughed. “No, not today, but someone will be there who will help you find your parents.”
“Shucks, that’s too bad. I’ve never seen the Saints play a football game.”
Taking a knee and matching gazes with the boy, Breaux said, “Tell you what, the next game the Saints play in the Super Dome, I’ll take you and your family.”
“You will? For real?” the boy said with delight.
“Yep, and I’ll buy you all the popcorn and candy your parents will allow.”
“Thanks, I can hardly wait!’
“Me too,” Breaux said and patted the boy on his shoulder. “Me too,” he said to himself, hoping and praying that returning to normal life was even possible.
Chapter 11
Doing his best not to call any attention to himself, Broderick Brown reached under his shirt and came out with his pistol. He wished he would have told T-Bob, the zoo employee, he had a gun earlier, but there wasn’t an opportunity. Hopefully, the man wouldn’t freak out when he saw it.
T-Bob had them out of sight of the two dinosaurs for a brief minute, but then Broderick saw the prehistoric creatures following their trail, sniffing the air, and looking about.
Then, one deinonychus locked its gaze on the small group and hissed with a wide opened mouth. It charged forward, and the other one quickly followed.
“Run! We’ve got to run!” Broderick yelled.
No one questioned his command, and the four took out running as fast as their legs would churn.
“How far, T-Bob? How far?” Broderick asked.
“The reptile house is close to the river. We might not make it in time,” T-Bob said.
The deinonychuses had cut the distance between them in half. If they got too close, Broderick would have to stop and start shooting. It would buy his family extra time, but he didn’t know if it would be enough for them to get away. “Is there someplace closer?”
“The cats! The big cats are right over there!” T-Bob said and veered to his right toward the lion exhibit.
The zoo employee led them down a small walk, behind the lion enclosure, to an eight-foot-wide opening.
Broderick had lost sight of the dinosaurs before they entered the dark hallway.
“Whew.” By the smell of things, there was no doubt there were big cats nearby. He wondered how the dinosaurs would react to the felines. Hopefully, the cats would have their attention and would forget about him and his family.
They came next to a cage door and stopped.
“Open the door, and let’s go in,” Broderick said, wondering why T-Bob stood with his nose between the door bars.
“Can’t. The cats aren’t put up,” T-Bob said.
About that time, a male lion sauntered toward the door. It was a beautiful animal. Its mane adorned its big head making it four times larger. Its tongue hung down as it panted. When it lifted its upper lip, there were teeth capable of shredding a man to pieces in a matter of
minutes.
“This is Harvey,” T-Bob said. He put the back of his hand by the cage, and the lion came up and gave it a sniff. “I’m friends with all the animals here. Even the hippo, but he still throws poop on me from time to time and laughs.”
“So, what? Are we trapped here? What if—?” Broderick’s words caught in his throat when he saw the head of one of the dinosaurs sniff around the entrance. At least the hallway was dark, but he had no idea how keen the dinosaur’s eyesight was.
To his relief, the first dinosaur moved out of sight, but shortly after the other came into the entrance and sniffed around.
By this time, another male lion had joined alongside Harvey, and two females slowly approached. The cats might have thought it was snack time, but Broderick wondered if they were anticipating one human each for a meal.
The deinonychus poked its head forward and hissed. The other came back into view.
“They know we’re here,” Broderick said. He turned on the laser and pointed his weapon.
T-Bob gasped, and said, “You gotta gun? You can’t have a gun at the zoo.”
“Cool it, T-Bob. We don’t have any other choice. We’re trapped, and it’s the only way out,” Broderick said.
“Maybe not,” T-Bob said.
Broderick didn’t have time to waste playing twenty questions with the zoo employee. The two dinosaurs looked like they were getting ready to charge, and he had to make his shots count.
Keys jingled behind him. Then a mechanical clank and the moan of rusty hinges told Broderick T-Bob had opened the gate to the lions.
“Get behind the gate!” T-Bob yelled as he pulled the gate toward them. The barred barrier shielded them from the opening to the lions’ enclosure.
“T-Bob, are you nuts?” Broderick cried out as the gate swung around and hit him in the shoulder, pushing him back against the wall.
The lions wasted no time charging down the hall. Their roars echoing as the deinonychuses backed up in uncertainty.
One deinonychus made a clean exit, but the first male lion that came upon the other slapped it with its mighty paw, and knocked it backward into the clear.
The Dinosaur Battle Of New Orleans Page 12
