by C. G. Mosley
Cliff made his way toward the kitchen and began to rummage through the cabinets. “You all should’ve known help was coming. You were supposed to stay put,” he said as he made his way toward the refrigerator.
“What happened to you?” Victor asked abruptly, staring at Matt.
Matt’s eyes widened as he realized he was being addressed. “Me?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
Victor marched toward him and grabbed his chin, turning his head slightly sideways. “Your jaw is swollen,” he muttered.
“Oh, that,” Matt answered, pulling away. “Yeah, Hardcastle punched me,” he said meekly.
Victor grinned, and puffed smoke as he chuckled. “Is that true?” he asked, looking at Charlie.
Her arms were still crossed, and though she was glad to see the two men, she wasn’t thrilled about the interrogation. “Yes, it’s true,” she answered flatly.
“So why did he punch you?” Cliff asked, as he pulled the tab off a hot soda he retrieved from the dead refrigerator.
“We lost a man,” Matt said solemnly. “Glenn blamed me for it.”
“I see,” Victor replied as he ran his hand downward over his thick mustache. He seemed to be deep in thought.
“I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but when exactly are you two getting us out of here?” Charlie asked as her patience had finally expired.
Victor rubbed the back of his neck and then plopped down on the couch that was being used to barricade the door. “As soon as possible, ma’am,” he replied as he took another pull from his cigar. “We’ve got two more members of our team headed this way and I’ve been given orders to locate any survivors in the compound and stay put until they get here.” He paused to release another cloud of wispy gray smoke. “So, is there anyone else still alive around here besides Glenn Hardcastle?”
Charlie shook her head and looked to the floor as she again thought of George. “No, only four of us remained and now only three of us are still alive.”
“Well, cheer up,” Cliff said as he placed a large, callused hand on her shoulder. “We’re here now and you’re getting off this island very soon.”
“That is music to my ears,” Matt said as he hopped up and sat onto the kitchen counter.
“What about Hardcastle?” Charlie asked, glancing over her shoulder to look into Cliff’s eyes.
The bald man’s eyes drifted away and found Victor. “Well?” he asked.
Victor’s cigar had burnt away into a small nub. He extinguished it on the tile floor between his legs as he considered an answer. Once he thought it over, he looked up and directly at Charlie. “It’s not up to me or Cliff,” he said. “But between you and me, Hardcastle is probably dead.”
Charlie shook her head. “No, absolutely not,” she replied sternly. “Do you even know him? Do you know anything about him?”
Victor swallowed and gazed toward the gaping hole in the ceiling. “What’s up there?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“Veterinary ward,” Matt answered for her. “We were considering going up there and getting enough sedatives to kill the Troodons before you showed up.”
Victor and Cliff looked at each other and then back to Matt.
“What the hell is a Troodon?” Victor asked, raising an eyebrow.
Charlie walked over to him and said, “Medium-sized dinosaur, stands on two legs, has a few red and white feathers on top of its head.”
Victor looked over toward the floor on his left as he thought. “I don’t recall seeing anything like that,” he said.
Cliff crushed the now empty soda can in his hand and plopped down on the couch beside Victor. “Nah, I don’t remember seeing any big chickens running around either,” he said, a bit of sarcasm in his tone.
“They don’t look anything like chickens,” Matt replied. He sounded a little annoyed. “They’re extremely dangerous animals.”
“They don’t sound dangerous,” Victor replied, glancing up at him.
“Well, trust us, they are,” Charlie snapped. “They are highly intelligent—more so than the Velociraptors. Some scientists have theorized that if the dinosaurs had somehow avoided extinction, it would’ve most likely been the Troodon that evolved into a humanoid.”
Cliff and Victor stared at Charlie and then the both of them looked at each other. After a few seconds, they burst into laughter.
“That’s a good one,” Victor said as he retrieved a new cigar from a large pocket on his pants leg. “So, I guess you’re saying it would’ve looked like us…just more scaly?”
Charlie rolled her eyes and then shook her head. “Perhaps,” she said, making no effort to hide her aggravation. “I’m not saying I believe in the theory, but I’m trying to make you understand these are not your ordinary dinosaurs.”
“They work harmoniously as a team more than any other species of animal I’ve ever studied,” Matt added. “I’m warning both of you not to take them lightly.”
Victor lit his cigar, filled his lungs with smoke, and then blew out a thick gray cloud. “Do they know how to use one of these?” he asked, holding up his rifle with his left hand.
Cliff snickered and muttered something no one could understand.
“Not yet,” Charlie replied and she was deadly serious.
***
“What is it?” Harley asked as she crouched low behind a fallen log, her binoculars to her face.
She was staring at a smaller dinosaur, maybe four feet high in stature. The animal stood on two legs, had a long tail, and rows of sharp teeth in its jaws. The top of the animal’s head was covered in small red and white feathers. Its eyes were cat-like, and set more on the front of its skull that on the sides. It was standing just outside the entrance to the office building in about two feet of water.
“It’s a Troodon,” Jonathon replied. “And it’s a big one.”
“Is it dangerous?”
Jonathon took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. “I’m afraid so,” he answered. “They’re really smart and territorial. Getting by them will not be easy.”
Harley lowered the binoculars and looked over at him. “It seems that Victor and Cliff got by it,” she said. “It’s just one…what’s the big deal?”
Jonathon smiled and swatted at an insect buzzing around the back of his neck. “If Victor and Cliff got into that building, it’s because that dinosaur let them,” he countered. “And trust me, there is more than one down there.”
“So, should I take that one out?” she asked, bringing the stock of her weapon to her chest.
“No, not yet,” Jonathon said, pushing the barrel of the gun downward. “If you start shooting, it’ll alert more of them. It’ll make things worse.”
“Okay,” she replied, disappointment in her voice. “So what do we do?”
Jonathon adjusted his hat and stood slowly. “We need to find another way in there,” he said. He glanced down at Harley. “I’m assuming you all know the schematics of the building,” he said. “Is there another way in?”
Harley thought for a long moment before finally reaching into a cargo pocket on her pants. She retrieved a tightly folded piece of paper. Once she opened it, Jonathon quickly realized it was the layout of the building. She spread it out neatly over the log she’d been crouched behind.
“Perfect,” he said as he studied the schematic. “This is new,” he said, pointing at the catwalk that led from the Triangle Building into the third floor of the office building.
Harley again pulled the binoculars to her face and began to scan the area for the catwalk. When she found it, she slowly lowered the binoculars from her face and looked up at him, her face ashen. “Something appears to have torn it apart,” she said, handing the binoculars over to him.
Jonathon looked for himself and quickly noticed what was left of the mangled catwalk. There were claw marks in the metal. The destruction was clearly caused by a large dinosaur and not Hurricane Simon as he initially thought. “Well, we can cross that
idea off,” he said, handing the binoculars back down to her.
He returned his attention to the blueprint and suddenly noticed an option that he thought was too good to be true.
“What about this?” he asked, pointing to what appeared to be an underground tunnel that disappeared off the edge of the page. “Where does that tunnel lead?”
Harley squinted her eyes as she studied the portion of the blueprint Jonathon was inquiring about. “That’s an old emergency escape tunnel that leads to an underground bunker about a mile and half away from the compound,” she answered. “We were told that it isn’t structurally sound and to avoid it. It’s not an option.”
Jonathon picked up on the firmness of her tone but refused to give up that easily. “Well, then if the catwalk isn’t an option, and the underground tunnel isn’t an option, then what exactly do you suggest?” he asked, obviously annoyed.
Harley Cash clenched her jaw and weighed her options. There was a long silence and Jonathon was more than eager to give her the opportunity to mull it over as he knew eventually she’d have no choice but to see it his way. As Harley thought quietly, exhaustion began to make its worrisome presence known to her. She tried to stifle a yawn, but failed.
“Are you certain that shooting them is a bad idea?” she asked stubbornly.
Jonathon smirked, more out of frustration than amusement. “I told you,” he began.
Harley held up her hand to silence him. “No, wait,” she interrupted. “Just hear me out…”
Jonathon raised his eyebrows and tightened his jaw. He gestured for her to go on.
“I remember what you said…about shooting one and the sound alerting more of them making matters worse,” she said.
Jonathon nodded and crossed his arms.
“So, what’s wrong with that?” she asked. “We have two advantages. We are in a hidden location and we can strike from a distance,” she added, glancing down at the rifle clutched tightly in her hands. “I think it would be great for more of them to come and investigate…I’d be able to pick them off one at a time from right here.
Jonathon looked over toward the Troodon that seemed to be standing guard outside the office building. The dinosaur paced back and forth. Its head seemed to be on a swivel as the animal frequently surveyed its surroundings for any sign of danger. Harley’s idea sounded good in theory but he knew the animals would be too smart for it to work.
“Sure, you might be able to pick off a couple—maybe even three,” he replied, still watching the pacing dinosaur. “But we don’t know how large that Troodon pack is and sooner or later they’d figure out where we are, and when they do…”
“I’ll be waiting here to mow them down,” Harley interrupted, her voice rising.
Jonathon smiled, removed his hat, and then stared at it. He took a deep breath and shook his head as he twirled the hat around on his hand. “I admire your spirit,” he muttered, still staring at the hat. “But I think this is where I respectfully remind you that I’m the dinosaur expert here.” He paused and glanced over at her. She locked eyes with him. “And I’m the one that has the final say,” he added sternly.
Harley’s eyes narrowed and he visibly noticed her biting her tongue.
“Yeah, you’d take a few more out I’m sure, but sooner or later, they’d overwhelm us,” he explained. “Trust me, it wouldn’t work.”
Harley finally stopped biting her tongue and returned her attention to the building schematic that was now lying on the ground beside her. “Alright, you win,” she conceded. “We’ll try the tunnel—but don’t be shocked if it is full of water or worse. And that’s of course assuming it isn’t collapsed.”
“There isn’t any way for dinosaurs to get in the tunnel. However, I’ll concede that it’s possibly collapsed,” Jonathon replied, returning his hat to its rightful place. “Actually, it’s probable considering the recent earthquakes. But at this point, I think it’s our safest option. We won’t do ourselves or anyone else any good if we end up dead.”
“And if we find the tunnel has collapsed?” Harley asked, rising from her crouched position.
“Then we do it your way,” Jonathon said.
Harley nodded, and reached for her radio to alert Victor and Cliff of their plan.
Chapter 20
Mr. Cold did his best to ignore the pain in his shoulder, but the throbbing wouldn’t cease. He refrained from moving his hand to his wound for fear that it would show a vulnerable side of himself to Hank. Fortunately, it was somewhat easy to hide his discomfort since Hank led the way and rarely looked back at him.
“How much further?” Cold asked as he wiped sweat away from his brow.
Hank glanced at the GPS unit he held in his hand but did not stop walking. “Looks like another mile and we’ll be there,” he replied.
Cold didn’t immediately say anything in reply, but he looked to the sky and could see it was beginning to dim substantially. He figured they had plenty of time to reach the cave before nightfall completely enveloped the island; however, he wondered how safe the cave would be to spend the night in. From what he knew of the cave, there were dinosaurs that frequented it and even one particular species that seemed to have claimed it as their home. It probably wasn’t a wise decision to sleep there.
“We need to set up somewhere to camp for the night,” Cold said finally, stopping in his tracks.
Hank spun around to look at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he replied, his eyes wide. “You told me that this island could be hours away from self-destructing and you want to stop somewhere for the night?”
Cold cleared his throat and leaned against a tree to give his body a brief respite. “Either way, we’re not going to be able to get off this island until tomorrow,” he said. “We can’t spend the night in the cave because it is usually inhabited by dinosaurs. We need to find a place to sleep, get through the night, and at first light, we’ll make a mad dash to the cave. Then we continue with the plan.”
Hank stared at him, panting. His mouth dropped open slowly and he finally said, “What about the earthquakes? What if it all goes to hell during the night?”
Cold chuckled and shook his head. “You worry too much, Hank. The island will make it one more night, trust me.”
Hank sighed and shook his head. “And you’re basing this on what exactly?”
Cold stood up straight again and walked over to Hank. “What do you want me to say?” he asked, agitated. “You want me to tell you it’s a gut feeling? Fine, that’s exactly what it is…does that make you feel better?”
Hank stared at him but said nothing.
Cold continued. “If something happens during the night, there is nothing we can do about it and there is a good possibility that we will die.”
“That’s what I thought,” Hank replied angrily. “That’s it, I’m out of here.” He turned to walk away.
Cold grabbed his arm as he strolled past. “Hank, wait,” he said, almost pleading. Hank stopped but didn’t turn to look at him. “We’re extremely close and as much as I don’t like the circumstances, they are what they are,” he continued. “We are stuck here for the night, no matter what.”
Hank finally turned his head to look at him. “That’s what you think,” he growled and he held the radio up. “This is the point where I tell you it’s time to abort the mission. I’ll call Harley and tell her the whole deal. I’m sure the paleontologist you brought along wouldn’t be too thrilled with what you’re planning either.”
Cold felt his blood pressure begin to rise. “Hank, let me remind you that I’m paying you a large chunk of money,” he said through clenched teeth.
Hank chuckled and began walking away from him again. “Keep your money,” he quipped. “I’ll make some from someone else.”
Mr. Cold watched Hank continue to walk away from him and he felt a rage overcome his entire body like a wildfire in a matter of mere seconds. He tried to stifle it, but just as he was unable to ignore the nagging pain in his shoulder
, he too was unable to ignore the overwhelming rage. Without considering the issue any further, he immediately reached for the revolver he kept strapped around his calf and with no hesitation raised the weapon and pulled the trigger.
The sound was thunderous, but fortunately, Hank Bailey never heard it. The bullet tore through the back of his skull and exited from between his eyes. The explosive spray of blood, bone, and tissue was enough to confirm for Cold that the shot had been a lethal one. Hank immediately fell face first into the ground and remained motionless. Cornelius Cold squeezed the handle of the gun tightly in his hand and then screamed with fury. He’d reacted rashly and he immediately regretted his actions.
He stared at the corpse in front of him for a long time before fully accepting what he had done. When he’d finally come to terms with it all, he knelt and picked the radio and GPS unit off the ground. As soon as he put his hand around the radio, it crackled to life. It was Harley, and she immediately began telling Victor and Cliff of her and Jonathon’s plan to find a nearby bunker to gain safe access to the office building. When she’d finished speaking, he thought he could hear Victor trying to respond, but there was so much static it was impossible to understand what he was saying.
I told her to avoid that tunnel, he thought. He looked down at the GPS to get an idea of just how far away from the bunker he was. When he considered the possibility of going on to the fountain alone, the more he thought about it, the more he realized it would be unwise and too risky. On the other hand, if he met up with Harley and Jonathon at the bunker, maybe he could concoct a story to convince them to join in him in going after the water. Though it seemed like a good idea in theory, he could think of no good story that he could use to entice them to follow him on the endeavor.
I suppose I’d better get to thinking, he thought.
He then slowly turned and began his trek toward the bunker.
***
The sun was almost down and the ominous mist surrounding the island made it seem that much darker. Charlie was not completely relaxed, but it was the safest she had felt since the hurricane first made landfall. Victor was not the most likeable fellow, but he was clearly there to protect them and seemed to take the job seriously. Cliff had a friendly face and truthfully looked to be on the opposite end of the spectrum from Victor where intimidation was concerned.
