One Dinosaur One Bullet

by Dane Hatchell

  At this point, Dan knew the animal was done for. The shooters had placed the bullets directly in the chest where the Triceratops’ massive heart hid. He dropped his binoculars, and said, “No need to fire again.”

  The Wellingtons checked up at Dan’s command. The expressions on their face questioning his assessment.

  BOOM!

  Hollis had fired and was in the process of steadying his aim for another round.

  “That’s enough, Hollis!” Dan hollered.

  Acting as if he’d been slapped with a wet towel, Hollis darted his gaze at Dan, and then looked over at Bo.

  “It’s dead. No need in turning the trophy into hamburger meat,” Dan said. “We’ve images to capture.”

  “Are you sure?” Janice asked.

  “Yes. Consider it a testimony to your marksmanship. The bullets hit the kill zone of the dinosaur, and it’s dead. I’ve seen the same scenario many times before. I know what I’m talking about,” Dan said.

  “Well, that was quick,” Hollis said with disappointment in his voice.

  “What were you expecting?” Dan asked.

  Shrugging his right shoulder toward his head, Hollis said, “A sense of victory, I guess.”

  “You’re alive, and the Triceratops is dead. I would call that a victory,” Dan said.

  “The Triceratops is so far away. We weren’t in any danger. The dinosaur didn’t even know we were here. Three of us blindsided it with weapons it didn’t have any natural defenses for,” Hollis said. “I don’t see the point of it all.”

  “Would you rather face the beast in hand-to-hand combat?” Warren asked.

  “No, that would be ridiculous,” Hollis said. “It outweighs me by thousands of pounds.”

  “Yet, despite that fact, through evolution and the ingenuity of man, you could kill it. And, in a most efficient and humane manner, I might add,” Warren said.

  “There is your victory,” Janice said. “Consider too, that if we had missed out targets, the Triceratops could have crushed us into bloody jam. Our technology, and, our skills, preserved our lives.”

  “If your first hunt had been shooting a charging bull elephant, you would have a greater appreciation for what you have done here,” Warren said.

  “I suppose you are right,” Hollis said.

  “You’ve killed a Triceratops,” Janice said. “How many other humans can make that claim?”

  “Well, I see your point, but I didn’t kill the beast by myself.”

  “You aren’t ready for a solo hunt,” Dan said. “With no hunting experience, consider yourself lucky you were allowed to come on this trip in the first place.”

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Bo said. “Warren paid, and Hollis’ training earned him the right to hunt.”

  Dan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say he didn’t earn his right.” He straightened his shoulders. “Folks, if we stand here jawing, we’ll have to run back to the time platform without any images of the Triceratops.”

  “I get it,” Hollis said. “Lead the way, Bo.”

  Bo fast-stepped the group over by the dead dinosaur.

  Dan hung around the rear with his gaze spanning the area hoping to see something new. He caught glimpses of the hunters doing the usual things the hunters did when examining the Triceratops. Poking its skin. Touching its nose horn, brow horns, and frill. Examining the pads on its huge feet.

  After the group posed for several clicks of the camera, Bo gave the word it was time to leave.

  Nothing new had caught Dan’s attention. The trip neared its end, and he was ready to leave.

  There was something unsettling with this group. The business, personal, and pleasure dynamics weren’t a good combination for a prehistoric hunt.

  And Bo. The boy became more trying every day.

  Dan had a lot to think about. He couldn’t wait to get back to his time and have a long conversation with a bottle of twenty-year-old Scotch whiskey.

  *

  The hunters stood on the time platform, gazing into the distance for a final look.

  “I can’t believe it’s time to go,” Whitney said.

  “I’ve been stuck in traffic longer than this trip lasted,” Hollis said.

  “Yes, but all you killed was time,” Dan said as he approached the control console, in no mood to hear anyone trash-talk the experience. “Maybe the hunt would have meant more to you if you had paid for it out of your own pocket.” He regretted his less-than-professional words the second they left his lips.

  Hollis shot him a go-to-hell stare, but the others didn’t take notice of the comment.

  “Moving right along,” Dan said as if to himself and looking at his watch. “Folks, if you’ll turn and face inside the platform, you won’t get the effects of the void when we transition back into our time.”

  Complying, they awaited with shoulders straightened and guns held securely in hand.

  Dan counted, “And, five…four…three…two…one…”

  Nothing happened.

  Dan’s gaze darted over to Bo.

  Bo inquisitively turned his head; his brow cocked to one side.

  The hunters relaxed as if they had been holding their collective breath.

  Checking his watch, Dan turned to the control console.

  “Problem?” Hollis asked.

  “Oh, God! I hope not!” Whitney said, dread laced in her tone.

  Bo quickly walked past the hunters and joined Dan at the console.

  “What’s the problem?” Bo asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Dan fumbled with the controls on the viewscreen. “Everything was pre-programmed…never had this happen before.”

  “Stop,” Bo said. “Look at the screen.”

  “What? The date and time we’re supposed to arrive and leave. So what?”

  “So look closer at the departure date.”

  “The departure date is the same day as the arrival date. There’s—” Dan hacked off his words, and his eyes told his brain to see what was on the screen and not what he thought was on the screen. The departure date did not match the arrival date.

  “The platform is set to leave tomorrow, not today,” Bo said.

  Whitney gasped

  “That’s not possible!” Dan said. “I checked the controls this morning before we left—like I always do.”

  “Tomorrow? Is this some kind of sick joke?” Hollis asked.

  “Someone else must have changed it!” Dan said, staring at the screen in total disbelief.

  “Dad, no one was at the business this morning but you. You must have set the wrong date.”

  “Impossible…I… wasn’t there all morning. I left for a coffee after setting the controls. Same as I do every morning. Someone else must have come in and changed the controls.”

  “That didn’t happen, and you know it. The security system would have recorded anyone entering while you were gone and alerted you to that fact when you arrived back from coffee,” Bo said.

  His mind racing back to this morning, Dan tried to remember his every move to the exact detail. But as hard as he tried, he had to question if, in fact, he had made an error. The task had become so repetitious, he couldn’t see his actual moves in his mind’s eye! Bewildered, his equilibrium shifted. He had to grab hold of the control console to steady himself.

  “Dad, you okay?” Bo asked.

  “I’m fine,” Dan lied. He wasn’t fine. Sure, he was getting old and little things—like forgetting what he had ordered at a restaurant the time he had gone there before—slipped his mind. Incidental memories betrayed him on occasions. But important tasks, he had been diligent to get correct. If he couldn’t trust his actions at critical junctures, his whole life was about to take an abrupt turn for the worse.

  “I say, there must be a contingency for this sort of mishap,” Warren said. “If I recall correctly, there will be a four o’clock arrival here for the next hunt. It stands to reason that we can hop aboard on their departure and arrive at our own time with the
m.”

  “That won’t happen,” Bo said. “We were supposed to arrive back in our time at two o’clock. The time platform is here and won’t be there for them to use. Plus, protocol with the laws in place won’t allow a search team to come after us for forty-eight hours. Of course, if one of us dies within that time period, no search party will be able to come within a thousand years of us.”

  “More time paradox gobble-de-goop,” Hollis said. “Makes my head hurt.”

  “Right now, back in our time, Jay Wilburn and T.F. Dunham, the guides for the four o’clock hunt, have seen on the master computer that our arrival time is set for tomorrow. They’ll be confused why the date had changed but won’t be alarmed that we didn’t make it back.” Dan dropped his head. “I’ll…I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “You bet your ass, you will,” Bo said and shook his head.

  The remark stoked Dan’s ire. Yes, he might have made a mistake. But Bo had no right to talk to him that way. Not after the way Dan had carried his son throughout life. Pointing out his shortcomings, pushing Bo to make himself a better man.

  Then, a thought hit him. Bo was correct when he said the security system would have captured anyone coming in and changing the time platform settings. Unless…the person breaking in had the passcodes. There were four men who had those passcodes: Dan, Wilburn, Fox…and Bo.

  Did Bo change the settings on the time platform? Was Bo trying to sabotage the trip to oust Dan from the company?

  He stared at his son, who glared right back at him. Would Bo do such a thing?

  Dan’s anger melted, leaving a hole in his heart. The hurt of possible betrayal tenfold over-weighed any anger he once harbored.

  “Are we going to stand around here with our fingers up our butts, or are we going to head back to that campsite?” Hollis asked. “I mean, you don’t plan on us sleeping on the platform tonight, do you? You said there are supplies at the campsite.”

  “It’s…it’s not that simple,” Dan said and ran a finger under his chin. “Bo, you tell them.”

  The big man spat over the side of the platform, and said, “The Triceratops you killed is now acting as bait for that next hunt scheduled at four o’clock. Around five o’clock, a Tyrannosaurus rex will show up to eat it. The T. rex is the scheduled kill.

  “If we stay the night we have to kill the T. rex at the designated time. If we don’t and go to the camp now, it’ll still be roaming around. That would be a huge gamble we aren’t going to take.”

  “Are you saying we get an extra hunt?” Hollis asked.

  “Mr. Wellington asked if we had a contingency plan,” Dan said. “We do. We know that if we kill the T. rex on schedule, we can spend the night at the campsite and arrive back at the platform tomorrow at two o’clock for a safe departure unharmed. The others who went back in time to map this hunt proved it.”

  Whitney had a hand over her heart, acting as if she were trying to keep it from beating out of her chest. “Wait, are you sure there won’t be any risks? Sounds too good to be true.”

  Dropping his head toward the platform floor, Dan paused a moment before returning his gaze to Whitney. “I am ninety-nine point nine percent certain we won’t be at any additional risk.”

  “But not one hundred percent? You said when we got here that we were living through a written script. If the timeline has been mapped, and others have stayed the night and survived, why should we have anything to worry about?” Hollis asked.

  “The minuscule of uncertainty comes from the differences in the human beings who mapped out the timeline and us. You’re aware that humans give off a variety of pheromones. Every human has a unique scent. The group of people who mapped out the timeline didn’t attract any predators. There is a chance that the wind might carry one of our scents that would attract a dinosaur,” Dan said.

  “I don’t like this,” Whitney said. “I don’t like this at all.”

  Stepping to Whitney’s side, Janice said, “Don’t you worry, honey.” She patted the vice president’s shoulder. “Bo and Dan are professional hunters. Warren and I are quite skilled, too. It’s only for another day.”

  “The percentages of anything going wrong are infinitesimally small,” Warren said. “Consider our situation like an investment. You would ignore such odds when buying stocks.”

  “Don’t forget about me,” Hollis said. “I’m the one with the BFG. You have nothing to worry about, Whitney. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Her lips tightening, Whitney said, “Oh, yeah. You’ve got my back. Just like at work.”

  Hollis started, “Hey! I—”

  “Folks, we’ll have to make the best of a bad situation,” Dan said. “Bo and I are in charge as we are responsible for your safety. We are in a primitive time, and we must keep all distractions to a minimum. You must forgive me, but I’m running out of patience listening to you bicker about work.

  “You complained earlier how the trip was too short. Well, now you have more time to soak up the scenery. Keep in mind that Bo and I haven’t been in this situation either. This is an opportunity to see new things. Let’s do our best to enjoy our time here.”

  “Dan is right,” Janice said. “I, for one, consider this an unexpected adventure. Just think, we’ll be able to see the mighty T. rex up close now. And tonight, tonight we’ll be able to watch the stars without the menace of light or smoke pollution. We’ll more than get our money’s worth on this trip.”

  “If I were you, I’d get my money back for the inconvenience,” Hollis said.

  “Prehistoric Safari Incorporated is fully insured, and compensation for violations of the contract will be paid in a timely manner,” Dan said, sounding like he read it directly off the contract. “With the legalities aside, I’m going with Mrs. Wellington’s direction and am ready to set out on a new adventure. Who’s with me?”

  “Jolly good,” Warren said and walked toward the side of the platform.

  Hollis picked up his rifle and did the same.

  Dan noticed Bo staring at Janice with that creepy looking grin on his face like earlier. She stared back at him, and then narrowed her eyes and made two quick shakes of her head.

  Odd. What in the heck was that all about?” Dan wondered.

  “Come now, Whitney,” Janice said. “Let’s catch up with Warren.” The two walked away.

  When Bo turned his head and looked at Dan, his son’s eyes widened like he had been caught with his pants down.

  Dan’s stare demanded a confession. Something’s going on, and you’re not telling me. Did you change the setting for the departure on the time platform? What’s going on with you and Janice Wellington? What are you hiding from me? What are you hiding from ME?

  Raising his nose into the air, Bo pulled out his can of Skoal, opened the top, and loaded his bottom lip. “Time to go. We’ve got a T. rex to kill.”

  *

  Minimal conversation exchanged between the hunters on the trip back to the fallen tree. The Wellingtons were genuinely excited about the extended outing. Whitney looked like she was trapped in a cage of thoughts, and Hollis sweated like he was in a steam bath. The weight of the BFG was getting the better of the short man.

  Bo was his usual self: distant, sullen, and annoyed at the world. But there was something different about Bo, too. The boy held a secret—Dan could sense it. Time would have to pass before unraveling the story.

  Once at the tree, Hollis plopped his butt on the ground and splashed a little water from his canteen on his face, rubbing it in with his hand.

  Whitney passed out mints to those who wanted one, while Bo set up the cameras.

  Dan pulled out his binoculars and saw that a half-dozen or so Compsognathus had arrived at the all-you-can-eat triceratops buffet. The tiny dinosaurs reminded him of the small green garden lizards that hunted insects outside his house. The bipedal theropods didn’t reach one foot in height. They stood on long legs with their tiny arms hovering at their chests while slinging crimson as ravenous mouths ri
pped out chunks of flesh.

  Time passed, with others up and scanning the area—quick to call out when a pterosaur came into view.

  Dan counted four different varieties he’d not seen before. He was so engrossed in the prehistoric show; he couldn’t believe how much time had passed when Bo stepped by his side and said it was fifteen minutes before the T. rex would arrive.

  Removing the binoculars from around his neck, Dan said, “Folks, time to prepare for the kill. We need to be extra quiet to make sure we don’t tip our presence to the T. rex. We don’t want anything to go wrong.”

  “How will the hunt go?” Warren asked. “Shall we fire at the same time as we did with the Triceratops?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mr. Wellington,” Dan said. “The T. rex is not a slothful quadruped. The thunder lizard, as it’s named, is a fast-moving theropod. To kill it efficiently, you must target the heart of the beast, and it won’t be lumbering toward us. It will, in fact, see us and charge. Bo and I can’t take the chance of someone firing prematurely, sending the dinosaur on a different path from what we are expecting, and throwing the rest of our shots off. Besides, you and Janice are nearly out of ammo.

  “Bo and I have made this hunt many times. It’s better to trust your safety to the professionals,” Dan said.

  “Screw that,” Hollis said. “I want in.” The man’s color had returned to his face. The short rest had done him good.

  “You want in? The shooting? Hollis, you did a fine job hitting the side of a barn when you shot the Triceratops, but you aren’t ready for a sprinter like the T. rex.”

  “Look, I’m pretty pissed to be here right now. Since I’m stuck, then I want to get in on the hunt. In fact, I want to kill the T. rex by myself,” Hollis said jabbing a finger toward Dan.

  “That’s madness, and I won’t allow it,” Dan said.

  “This is my chance to do something gigantic. It would mean the world to me if I could drop a T. rex. Whitney shot a dinosaur by herself. I deserve a chance too,” Hollis said.

  “Apples to oranges difference. Or, I should say, blueberries to watermelons difference. The two scenarios are vastly different,” Dan said.