Dinosaur Thunder (18 page)

“Any of them predators—you know, dangerous dinosaurs?” Les asked.

“Not really,” Jeanette said. “Mostly vegetarians, except for a couple of egg stealers.”

“So, nothing like what happened in Orlando,” Les said.

“Was there really a tyrannosaur loose?” Jeanette asked. “The Dinosaur Rangers deny it. Seems impossible to me.”

“It was a tyrannosaur,” Les said, rolling up on his side, leaning on an elbow. “It ate a police horse.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to it? Did they shoot it? Some people say the police killed the tyrannosaur and then took it away so people wouldn’t know.”

“No, it wasn’t shot. That’s the weird part. They never found it. They couldn’t find the herd it was chasing either.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Jeanette said, thinking of the implications. “All these dinosaurs popping up. Are we heading toward another Time Quilt?”

“They say we aren’t,” Les assured her. “If anything, it might be just a little leakage through time.”

“That’s good,” Jeanette said, thinking about Carson’s velociraptors.

Les rolled onto his back, so Jeanette rolled up on her side so she could see his body. Les was fit, with little body fat. He did not have a full six-pack, but there were hints along his abdomen. Jeanette ran her finger from his belly button to his rib cage. Then she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“I have to get back to work,” Jeanette said, sitting up as his arms reached for her.

“Now?” Les whined.

“I’m in charge while Carson is gone,” Jeanette said, pulling on her cover-up.

“Wait, there’s something I need to tell you,” Les said. “Those guys who were running the meth lab in the place next to yours? The case got kicked. The judge didn’t like me pretending to be a code enforcement officer. He said it queered the evidence, and they tossed it. All of it. The case went poof with it.”

“When are they getting out?” Jeanette asked.

“They’re out,” Les admitted, sitting up. “That’s why I thought I’d hang around with you for a while.”

Jeanette appreciated Les’s offer, but she could not have a cop around with a barn full of illegal velociraptors. “I’ll be fine,” Jeanette said, not really certain.

Les apologized all the way back to the ranch, and then left reluctantly, making Jeanette promise over and over again to call if she had any concerns. Touched by his guilt and his concern, Jeanette kissed him again, and then sent Les off.

Jeanette checked the revolver in the box on the office floor, making sure it was loaded, and then took lunch to the chicks. Opening the door, she noted no chicks in sight. Jeanette sang “Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti,” and chicks came running from hiding places,
awk
ing and hopping, jumping up at the food bowls. Jeanette put the bowls down and marveled at how fast the chicks were growing.

“I think they’re bigger than they were this morning,” Jeanette said to Sally.

Three calls about loose dinosaurs came in that afternoon, and Jeanette assigned the retrievals to her wranglers, although none would be able to respond until the next day. Doris had been slightly injured by a triceratops, but had single-handedly managed to use a cattle prod to force the monster into a corral with an electric perimeter. Unfortunately, no one had claimed the triceratops, and the owner of the corral wanted it removed. Jeanette told Doris to collect her fee and then call the Dinosaur Rangers to collect the triceratops.

After feeding the velociraptors dinner, Jeanette played with them, then closed them in the barn and sat in the office, drinking iced tea, watching the light fade from the sky. Sally was lying in front of the screen door, sleeping. This was the time of day when Jeanette missed Carson the most, since work and the velociraptors kept her busy during the day. Evenings and nights were when she thought of Carson. Tonight, however, she felt guilty, because she was not thinking about Carson; she was thinking about Les, and the thrill she got when she kissed him.

“Carson, you better get home soon,” she said, blaming him for her feelings.

Sally stirred at Carson’s name, sitting up and barking at something in the dark. Jeanette’s hand dropped to her side, feeling the box on the floor next to her, and the gun resting on top. Sally settled down again, but Jeanette continued to finger the gun, watching the dark.

21

Confidential

Kaylee Kemper is reliable, helpful, and attentive to her responsibilities. Given the confidential nature of the material that she comes in contact with, I particularly value her discretion.

—Performance review for Kaylee Kemper by Nick Paulson, Supervisor

Present Time
Washington, D.C.

“Kaylee, it’s Elizabeth.”

“Hello, Ms. Hawthorne,” Kaylee Kemper said. “I’m sorry to say there isn’t any news today. I’m so discouraged.”

“I’m not just discouraged, I’m fed up,” Elizabeth said. “I’m going to do something.”

“What?”

“I’m going to look for Nick,” Elizabeth said.

“But where? No one seems to know where he’s gone.” Kaylee was whispering now, as if she were entering into a conspiracy.

“That’s where you can help me,” Elizabeth said.

“Me? How?”

Instinctively, Elizabeth dropped her voice to a near whisper. “To find Nick, I need to start somewhere. John told me he disappeared from a farm, or a ranch, in Florida, but he won’t tell me exactly where it is.”

“I can’t tell you that,” Kaylee said.

“I don’t want you to break any laws,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s not that,” Kaylee said. “I’d go to prison for Dr. Paulson. I just don’t know the exact address. I know it’s near Ocala, but that’s all. Dr. Gah called me from the preserve about the velociraptors, but all he said was that some man calling himself the Dinosaur Wrangler brought in two Visitors.”

“Dinosaur Wrangler,” Elizabeth repeated.

“That won’t help, Ms. Hawthorne. The Dinosaur Wrangler person disappeared with Dr. Paulson.”

“I suppose,” Elizabeth said, thinking. “Thanks for your help.”

“If I find anything out, I’ll call you,” Kaylee said.

Hanging up, Elizabeth opened her laptop, and then she typed “Dinosaur Wrangler” into a search engine.

22

The Big One

Evolution from sentience to partial-sapience or full-sapience requires billions of years, and not all species succeed in reaching it.

—scienceray.com/philosophy-of-science

Unknown Time
Unknown Place

The cowboy waited for them on the hill. By the time they reached the top, Nick realized the mounted rider was a police officer. Her badge and shoulder patch identified her as part of the Orlando Police force.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” she said, walking toward them, pulling her horse along by the reins.

“Were you sent to find us?” Carson asked, hope rising.

“Find you? No. I have no idea where I am. Don’t you?”

“Hell no,” Carson said.

“We’ve passed through a time junction connecting our present with the Cretaceous past,” Nick explained.

“Did you crawl through a pipe?” Carson asked.

“On a horse?” the officer said.

“Horse?” Crazy Kramer said, eyes wide, reaching out to gently touch the horse’s neck.

“Nick Paulson,” Nick said, offering his hand.

Exchanging names, Officer Kris Conyers took off her helmet, wiping sweat from her brow. She wore her hair short, with bangs swept across her forehead. She had large eyes, slightly almond shaped, her face an oval that narrowed to a pointy chin. A mole marked the jawline on the left side of her face.

“Dr. Paulson of the OSS?” Conyers asked. “Well, that can’t be good if you’re stuck here.”

“We’re not stuck,” Carson said. “We’re going back the way we came as soon as we find his family.”

“Yeah!” Crazy Kramer added, shaking his machete.

Conyers looked sympathetically at Jacob and suspiciously at Crazy Kramer. “I’ll be glad to help, but I can’t get Torino back through a pipe, if that’s what you came through.”

“Where is your entry point?” Nick asked.

“Back down the valley,” Conyers said, pointing. “I didn’t get a good look at it, because I was running from a
T. rex
at the time. We came out of a little valley or ravine, or something. It was dark until just before we came out. I can find it easily enough by backtracking the trail.”

“A blind man could follow that trail,” Wynooski said. “I could find it easy.”

“There’s a
T. rex
back down your trail?” Carson said. “I say we crawl through the pipe and screw your friend Flicka.”

Officer Conyers stepped in front of Carson, inches from his face. “That horse saved my life, and a lot of other people’s lives,” Conyers said, her nostrils flaring, her cheeks reddening. “If the horse doesn’t go, then I don’t go.”

“Suits me,” Carson said.

“We’ll resolve this later,” Nick said, trying to push between Carson and the officer. “The first priority is to find Jacob’s family and any other survivors.”

“Survivors?” Officer Conyers asked.

“There were thousands at one time,” Jacob said. “But disease, fires, earthquakes, fighting, famine—all the worst parts of the Bible—killed most of us. Others left to find a better place to live. There were two hundred and thirty-eight of us still alive when we got attacked.”

“Attacked?” Conyers said.

“Look, Roy, we don’t have time to fill you in on everything you missed,” Carson said.

“I’ll explain as we walk,” Nick said.

With a final glare at Carson, Conyers agreed to go along.

“Maybe he better ride,” Conyers offered, pointing at Gah.

Gah’s ankle was swollen, and his limp slowed them down. They helped Gah up into the saddle, Conyers adjusting the stirrups for the injured man. She had two water bottles in a saddlebag and passed those around. The bottles were drained. On top of the hill, Nick looked around while there was still light, Jacob next to him, Wynooski on the other side.

“That’s where we need to go,” Jacob said.

“Strange-looking formations,” Wynooski said.

The horizon was a series of low green hills split by taller brown and gray spires. Finally Nick recognized what it was—the ruins of a city.

“That’s Portland,” Jacob said. “There’s even less left than the last time I saw it. We’ve been having a lot of earthquakes. I think they brought down more buildings.”

“Looks like some of your survivors,” Conyers said, pointing down the valley behind them.

Everyone turned, looking into the shadow-filled valley.

“Bring it on!” Crazy Kramer shouted, waving his machete.

“We’ve got to go,” Jacob said, pulling Crazy Kramer down the hill, away from the advancing group.

“Why?” Conyers asked, pulling Torino after the others.

“They’re Inhumans,” Jacob said.

“What does that mean?” Conyers said.

“It means get your ass in gear, Hopalong,” Carson said, passing Conyers.

“They’re people, but not like us. They evolved from a different biological root than we did,” Nick said, coming alongside the bewildered officer.

“Oh, Torino, what have I gotten us into?” Conyers said.

They hurried off the hill across the valley to the tree line. Pausing just inside, hidden in shadows, they watched for anyone or anything following.

“They had to see us up there,” Dr. Gah said.

“They saw us!” Wynooski said flatly. “A blind man could see us standing on top of that hill. I knew it was a bad idea to climb up there.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Carson pointed out.

“I’m not the one in charge,” Wynooski said.

They worked their way through the forest, the horse a mixed blessing. With Torino carrying Gah, they could move faster, but the horse could not squeeze through tight spaces. They walked until everyone was staggering and tripping in the dark, finally resting in a small clearing. The only food they had were energy bars that Officer Conyers had in her saddlebag, which they split up, satisfying no one. They had refilled the empty water bottles at a stream, but split seven ways, there was not much to go around. Everyone was hot, thirsty, and hungry, except Torino, who happily munched juicy ferns. As people started to fall asleep, Nick suggested taking turns watching. Nick volunteered to take the first watch.

Nick watched the shadows for a while, but soon turned his gaze to the sky, seeing more stars than he ever had in his own time period. The pollution-free Cretaceous heavens were stunningly beautiful, but disquieting at the same time. Nick could not recognize a single constellation. Nick knew stars moved. Edmond Halley had discovered this when comparing his astronomical observations to Greek star charts and finding that Sirius, Arcturus, and Aldebaran had shifted position, although just slightly. Looking at the Cretaceous sky, Nick could not pick out a familiar star, fragment of a constellation, or what the ancients called the “wandering stars,” which were planets.

“We started renaming the constellations,” Jacob said, as if reading Nick’s mind. “See that near circle over there? That’s Ezekiel’s Wheel. The vee-shaped clump over there is Noah’s Ark, and that box shape is the Ark of the Covenant.”

“All your constellations have biblical names,” Nick said.

“The names have to be approved by Reverend. He’s the head of our Community.”

Nick looked at Jacob, judging his feelings about this Reverend. “It’s a religious community?” Nick probed.

“It’s the only Community,” Jacob said. “Don’t repeat this, but I wouldn’t live there if I had any choice, but my wife’s a believer, and even if she agreed to leave, how could I take care of my wife and kids out here? We don’t have any choice of where to live. No one has a choice. You live in the Community, or you don’t live at all. If you don’t obey, you get expelled—and that’s a death sentence.”

“If we find your people, will they come with us?” Nick asked.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Jacob asked. “It’s a chance to be safe again.”

“Even in the modern age, people drop out and form their own communities,” Nick said. “The religious are particularly prone to doing this. The Amish have lived separate from the world into the modern age, but if they could have a world of their own without the temptations of modern conveniences, wouldn’t they take it? Then there were the Branch Davidians and Heaven’s Gate. They were willing to die to live separate from the world.”