Dinosaur Wars: Earthfall

by Thomas P Hopp

  ***

  Kit and Chase had escaped Arran Kra sometime around midnight, but their homeward progress was slowed by Kit’s sore knee and a need to repeatedly hide from Kra patrols. As they walked down the last switchback on the road from the prairie, morning sunlight streaked the foothills. The last cricket songs were fading as they rounded the final turn that overlooked the house. Chase stopped to eye a fighting machine parked at the back door.

  “It’s okay,” said Kit. “It’s got Gar’s insignia.”

  They hurried down the little footpath they’d climbed the other day and moved past the barn where Rufus was chuffing at a bale of hay he had dragged from the loft and spilled on the ground. Huey, Louie and Dufus romped in the pasture. Henrietta was settled firmly on the nest and showed no inclination to move. Lucky, Buck, and Nelda grazed contentedly near her, just inside a section of fence that had come down completely.

  Kit and Chase approached the back of the house, with dawn light seeming to wrap it like a halo. Chase quickened his step but Kit clutched his elbow, favoring her left leg. He stopped and she bent to rub her knee.

  “Banged up worse than you thought?” he asked.

  “It’ll be all right,” she replied. But when she put weight on it, she winced. “The long hike has got it a little swollen.”

  On an impulse, Chase scooped her up in his arms.

  “Put me down,” she protested, but he ignored her and quickly carried her up the back steps, muscling the door open with a shoulder and letting her down lightly inside the threshold.

  “Well, I’ll be—!” cried Ogilvey, who was at the stove frying a pan of bacon. He grinned at them in long-toothed delight with a twinkle in his magnified owl-eyes. “Thank goodness you’re all right. We had almost given up hope.” He clapped Chase on the shoulder. “That was quite an explosion you made up there, son.”

  “We made,” Chase corrected. “It never would have happened without Kit.”

  “Well then,” Ogilvey grinned. “Congratulations are in order for both of you. Nice excavation work, Kit.”

  Gar was in the living room, hunkered down in the middle of the floor with his neck arched and his head resting behind his shoulder. He rose as Ogilvey hustled into the living room, followed by Kit and Chase.

  “How about these two?” Ogilvey crowed. “Mission accomplished!”

  “Gek kanah,” Gar sighed.

  Chase didn’t get the words, but Gar’s tone seemed unenthusiastic. “Well, don’t get too excited,” he needled. “We must have wiped out at least half of them.”

  “Gah.” Gar blinked slowly in a depressed-looking manner.

  Kit touched Chase’s arm. “Hey, go easy on that subject. I don’t think Gar wants to hear about dead Kra.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Chase said contritely. “I forgot he’s on their side.”

  “The explosion,” Ogilvey explained, “was bigger than Gar planned. He meant to decrease their war-making ability and thereby make his case for peace stronger. But the fire and subsequent explosions killed many more Kra than he intended. In any case,” Ogilvey gushed with renewed delight, “it does both our hearts good to see the two of you safe and sound. We worried that the worst had happened when you didn’t come home last night. The soldiers have already moved on. They fixed up a truck and left for NORAD.”

  “We’d have been here a lot sooner,” Chase explained, “if we hadn’t totaled our walking machine.”

  “Some driving lessons may be in order, eh boy?” Ogilvey remarked.

  Chase let the comment slide. Kit sat on the couch and gingerly touched her puffy knee.

  “Let me check that.” Ogilvey bent to examine the injury. “I’m somewhat of a bone specialist, you know.” He prodded and twisted until Kit grimaced. Then he straightened up. “I’ve seen worse. You’ll want to put some ice on it.”

  Gar remained somber. Noticing, Kit asked him, “Are you all right?”

  “Gah,” Gar replied softly. His yellow eyes blinked glumly.

  There was an emotion there, nearly indecipherable to humans, but Kit guessed what it was. “I’m sorry about your people,” she said.

  Gar stared at the floor. “Ikah-tat nagan.”

  Ogilvey nodded in comprehension. “Gar says you did the right thing.”

  After a moment of strained silence, Ogilvey went into the kitchen and turned off the burner under the crackling pan of bacon. “Come on everybody,” he called. “Have a seat at the table. I’ve got bacon and eggs and hashed browns. Gar, maybe a raw steak will cheer you up.”