TWENTY FIVE

“This is the worst part of living on this island,” Alan complained as he placed the empty ice chest on the four-wheeler and pulled it away from the wall. The ice chest would be rotated with a second one filled with perishables that Miguel would be bringing to them. “Having to walk so far to get supplies every six weeks or so. Sometimes, I think it would be better to have Miguel attach parachutes to the supplies and drop them from the plane. With my luck, though, the parachute would get hung up in the tree tops, and I’d break my neck climbing up to get them!”

“Oh, it can’t be that bad,” Ellie teased. “I’ve been kind of looking forward to it. You know, change of pace. Something different. We’ve been holed up in this dungeon for more than a week reading and cataloging all those documents, so getting out in the fresh air for a nice hike will be fun. We haven’t traveled very far from the compound since the incident with the packy.”

“I know, but it uses up more than half a day to get there and back,” Alan reminded her. “I’ve made this trip many times since . . . since . . . How long have I been here, anyway?”

“See?” Ellie pounced on his inability remember the duration of his stay on the island. “See? You’ve had your nose in your work so long you’ve lost track of time!”

She was smiling happily at him, and he found it impossible to feel annoyed by her eagerness to embark on a chore that he had come to despise. “Okay, okay, I’m guilty as charged. Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

He pushed the hand truck from the kitchen and its rubber wheels whirred along in front of him on the linoleum floor as he walked down the corridor to the front door. He paused wistfully at the hat rack, gazing at the place of honor that had once held his beloved fedora. He did not speak of his loss, but Ellie knew he was missing the hat, and presumably it would likely be one of the first things he would purchase upon his return to the States. He could have easily asked Miguel to pick one up for him, but he was so particular about his hats that she was not surprised that he had not made the request.

The pistol box was sitting on the small platform built into the hat rack, so he opened it and removed the weapon. He had no holster in which to keep it handy, so he checked to make certain the safety was in place, and then put it inside his backpack, which was hung by its straps on the handle of the four-wheeler, where it would be within easy reach. By remaining alert, he figured he would be able to determine if danger was nearby, and retrieve it in time to defend them. The shock prod was inserted in the loop on his belt as a backup device. Also inside the backpack were two sandwiches and two bottles of water.

After everything was safely stowed, he turned to Ellie, who was watching. Had he looked a little closer, he would have noticed the affection and admiration for him shining in her eyes. For some reason that he could not comprehend, she seemed to enjoy looking at him. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

He opened the solid door, unlocked the bars, and dragged the hand truck through behind him. Ellie brought up the rear. She left the solid door open to allow fresh air inside the dwelling, but securely closed and locked the bars behind them. Alan watched approvingly, and they set out for the landing strip, taking the same route in reverse that they had used on Ellie’s first day.

It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny with just a trace of breeze as they walked up the slope and entered the forest. Taking the lead, she followed the path carved into the soil by the vehicle wheels that had transported supplies from the landing strip to the compound. Alan followed, the hand truck rattling and bumping along on the uneven ground. The empty ice chest bounced and slid precariously all over the flat surface, but it was prevented from sliding off by a three inch rim.

As always, the humidity on the island was high, but Ellie was in high spirits and hardly noticed. Pulling a hair scrunchie from her pocket, she pulled her hair back into a pony tail to get it off her neck. It bounced and waved back and forth as she walked in a manner that Alan found extremely enticing.

The hike was uneventful with no animal sightings. They could have simply been taking a leisurely hike in the jungle, if not for the rather noisy hand truck. Allowing Ellie to enjoy the leisurely walk without the burden of worrying about their safety, he assumed the responsibility of remaining alert.

 

                                                       ~~~~~~~~~~

At last, they saw the glint of the asphalt runway through the foliage, and Ellie pushed away the soft fronds of a fern at the edge of the tree line and emerged into the open area near the runway. “The plane isn’t here,” she said. “Do you suppose something happened?”

Alan glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Nah, we made good time. Sometimes he’s early, sometimes I’m early. It’s hard to arrive at the precise time. Besides,” he added with a smile. “There’s a lot more spring in your step than the last time we made this trip!”

She smiled over her shoulder at him, ample reward for the compliment, then she turned back to face the landing strip as he emerged into the open and stopped beside her.

The long strip of dark gray asphalt dominated the ugly man-made clearing. In stark contrast to the pristine beauty of the jungle from which they had just emerged, the clearing seemed dry and starkly desolate. Tufts of grass struggled to survive in the cracks that were beginning to appear in the asphalt, and heat waves rippled on the surface beneath the hot sun.

“It looks even worse than I remembered,” Ellie said with a slight grimace.

“Yeah,” Alan agreed. “Seems wherever mankind goes, they leave a bit of themselves behind to mar the landscape.” He parked the hand truck in the shade, and sat down beside it in the cool grass.

Ellie gazed across the flat runway toward the jungle on the other side. There was no sign of life and no sound except the quiet rustling of leaves and fronds behind them. “This must be the loneliest place on earth,” she said. “It reminds me of the badlands in Montana, only somehow even more . . . lonely.”

He looked up in surprise at her curious choice of words. “There are lots of lonely places in the world.”

“I know, but this is like . . . I don’t know, like a ghost town or something. Without the town, if that makes sense. It’s so deserted, so forlorn, abandoned.” She shrugged, and glanced down at him with an embarrassed smile. “I know; I’m just being silly.”

“You’re not silly, Ellie,” he told her. “You’re just more sensitive than most people. You feel things more deeply.” He fell silent for a long moment, gazing at a particular spot on the landing strip, then added, “Truth be told, I don’t really like this part of the island, either.”

Her smile faded and she moved closer to him and sat down, folding her long legs Indian fashion. “Is this where it happened? The plane crash?”

He nodded, slowly. “I never told you about that trip, did I?”

“No. You’ve made references to it, but you never told me in any detail,” she replied, softly, hoping he would continue.

After a moment, he began: “It was supposed to just be a fly-by. The Kirbys were pretending to be a rich couple with money to spend, who thought it might be interesting to see real dinosaurs from the airplane. I think they said it was their anniversary, or something. They promised to provide me with enough money to fund my dig site for years to come.” He gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Little did I know what I was getting myself into. I should learn to follow my own instincts. I knew going into this that something was wrong, but I was so damn desperate for the money that I think I would have done almost anything – except maybe land on this island. They had hired three other men -- Nash was the pilot, a coordinator named Udesky, and at the time, I had no idea why Cooper was there. When I realized they intended to set the plane down, I tried to stop them, but Cooper hit me from behind.” His hand went to the back of his head as if to rub away the remembrance of it. “When I woke up, we were on the ground, and they were outside screaming and yelling for their lost son.”

“Eric,” she said, confirming that she had read the newspaper accounts. He was the boy in the clipping she still carried in her purse. “I can sort of understand what they must have been feeling. They would have been desperate to get their child back to have taken such a risk.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think they really took into consideration the fact that they were risking others as well. Mrs. Kirby was yelling into a megaphone, Mr. Kirby was just yelling, and Cooper and Nash were out scouting around, and they were yelling too. All of them, yelling their damn fool heads off. I tried to convince them to get back in the plane and get us off the ground, but no one listened.” He shook his head, slowly, remembering the anger and betrayal he had felt at being tricked into the ill-fated trip. “No one listened,” he repeated. “They didn’t understand the danger.” He sighed, heavily. “Fools.”

Ellie waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she prompted, “What happened?”

“That damn megaphone,” he said. “I’m sure her voice carried for at least a mile with that thing, which is what she intended, but it didn’t summon what they were looking for. When we heard a loud roar, I knew we were in trouble. Big trouble. Billy was as excited as a schoolboy; he thought it was a T-Rex, but I knew what a Rex sounded like, and it sounded different. We were down on that end of the runway,” he told her, pointing to one end of the long runway with his forefinger. “A moment later, Nash burst out of the brush running toward us, urging us back on the plane. The Kirbys didn’t want to comply, but he was so frantic, so obviously frightened that he spooked everyone, and we wasted little time getting back on the plane. Nash was so panicked that he left Cooper behind. While we were accelerating, Cooper ran onto the runway in front of us. We could see that he was begging us to stop, but Nash refused. The spinosaurus stepped out of the trees right over there,” he said, pointing to the tree line near the other end of the runway. “It snatched up Cooper just as we reached that point, and blood sprayed all over the windshield. The landing gear must have struck the animal’s head and somehow damaged the plane so that we were unable to gain enough altitude to get over the trees. We crashed in the treetops about a quarter of a mile into the jungle beyond the end of the runway.”

“In the tree tops?” Ellie asked. “How did you get down?”

He smiled a peculiar smile. “The spinosaurus was tall enough to look in the windshield at us, so what did we all do? We rushed to the back of the plane, and the weight of all of us in one spot just tilted the plane back, and it slipped from the tree and we fell all the way to the ground. It’s a miracle we survived the impact. The spinosaurus terrorized us for a while and killed Nash before the rest of us managed to escape.”

She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed affectionately. “It must have been awful. When I first arrived, you told me that the large dinosaurs never came into this part of the jungle. What about the spinosaurus?”

“The jungle thins a bit on the other side of the runway, without all the undergrowth that we saw behind us, so it can move beneath the canopy with relative ease.” He continued to gaze at the far end of the runway, deep in thought.

“The Kirbys didn’t pay you for the trip?”

“No. They weren’t rich at all. Turns out they owned a modest plumbing and tile business in Enid, Oklahoma. They lied and made promises because Billy had told them that we needed money desperately to keep the dig site going. Oh, they offered to reimburse me for as much as they could afford every month, but you can’t run a dig on a few hundred dollars a month.” He drew a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. “That was the beginning of the end for me. I was completely broke. My work was my life. I guess that’s why I’ve been on this island so long. There was simply no reason to go back.” And no one to go back to! He reached for the backpack and changed the subject abruptly. “Let’s eat while we’re waiting.”

He withdrew the sandwiches from the pack, passed one to Ellie and set the other on his thigh as he reached in for the two bottles of water.

“It doesn’t seem as hot today as it was the day I first arrived,” Ellie mused.

“It is. Maybe a little hotter, even. It’s just that you’re in better shape than you were back then. You’ve come a long way in the last six weeks.”

She smiled in agreement as she peeled the plastic wrapping from her peanut butter sandwich. “In more ways than one. I’m starting to feel whole again.”

Alan gazed at her quietly, thinking that he was starting to feel whole again also, but he did not say so aloud. Instead, he unwrapped his own sandwich, and they ate their meals in the quiet shade near the edge of the runway.

 

                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, a half hour later, Alan said, “There’s the plane.”

Ellie shaded her eyes and squinted up into the brilliant sky. “I don’t see it,” she told him.

He pointed in the proper direction. “There, that silver speck.”

She saw the tiny dot reflecting the glare of the sun, and marveled at his remarkable eyesight. Slowly, it became larger and more identifiable as it drew nearer, until she could hear the engines. It banked to the left, and lined up with the landing strip.

Alan stood up and dusted off the back of his jeans with his hands as they watched the plane float gracefully down to the landing strip.

The plane taxied toward them, coming to a stop nearby. Alan reached for the hand truck, and he wheeled it out toward them as the hatch opened, and the burly Hispanic man trotted down the steps, his hand outstretched in greeting.

Alan accepted the friendly handshake, and Miguel said, “You look well, Señor, better even than when I saw you last. Having company on the island must be agreeing with you, eh?” His eyes shifted to Ellie, noticing that she appeared much healthier and happier than when he had last seen her. “And you also, Señora. You both look well.”

“Thank you, Miguel. You’re looking well too,” Alan responded with a smile. “Now that we’ve acknowledged how well we all look, how’s your family?”

“Ah, doing well, Señor, doing well,” he replied, his choice of words making them all laugh. “My youngest son, Ramóne, he be talking soon!”

Alan could almost see Ellie’s ears prick up at the mention of Miguel’s son. “How many children do you have, Miguel?” she asked, curiously.

“I have four boys and three girls,” he said proudly. His eyes lingered on Ellie a moment longer before returning to Alan, recalling the paleontologist’s anger at seeing her arrival six weeks earlier. “I wondered if maybe I would be taking the Señora back to civilization with me. Or maybe you like having her here, eh?”

“No, you won’t be taking her back, and yes I like having her here,” Alan replied, patiently, ignoring the implication. Miguel was smiling broadly, a suggestive look that made Ellie’s cheeks heat up. Alan saw the grin and Ellie’s reaction to it. “You can wipe that grin off your face now, Miguel. It isn’t what you’re thinking.”

Miguel made an unsuccessful attempt to curb his amusement. “I’m not thinking anything, Señor, except that maybe she be good influence you!” he replied, quickly. “You seem different with her here.”

Alan and Ellie exchanged glances. “Different, how?” Alan asked, inadvertently taking the bait.

“How you say? More content! That’s it, more content.” He nudged Alan gleefully with his elbow. “More satisfied.”

Alan sighed. “Come on, Miguel --”

“Whatever you say, Señor. I go get the supplies,” Miguel said, quickly. Turning, he strode back toward the plane. They could hear him laughing, merrily.

After he had returned to the plane, Ellie turned to Alan, genuinely puzzled. “Alan, you know what he’s thinking! Why didn’t you just come right out and tell him that nothing has really happened between us? Not to the degree he’s thinking, anyway.”

“Do you really think he would believe me?” Alan asked.

Ellie was forced to concede that he was right. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t. He didn’t believe me when I told him I was coming out here to help you with your work.”

“Besides, trying to deny it would only prolong the teasing. Better to just let him think what he wants. It’s what everyone else is going to be thinking, anyway once we get back to civilization.”

Ellie averted her eyes and nodded, slowly, realizing that he was right.
“Does it bother you?” he asked.

“No, not really. I mean, everyone knew we were living together before. It just feels a little strange after all this time, especially since they’re thinking something is happening that isn’t.”

Before he could think of a response, he noticed that Miguel and his cousin were busily unloading the boxes and packages from the plane, and setting them on the landing strip. Alan pushed the hand truck toward them, and stopped it beside the stack of goods.

Miguel handed him a large ice chest carrying the perishables packed in ice, and Alan passed him the empty one. Alan opened the full one to verify the contents, and found everything to his satisfaction. “Looks like good quality hamburger meat,” he said, approvingly. “And chicken breasts. You did good, as always, Miguel.”

“Is from my wife, Juanita,” he replied. “I place the food order in her hands. She be better at things like that than I am. I get the other things.”

Ellie was looking over his shoulder, taking her own inventory. “Excellent, you remembered the whipped cream.”

“Si, Señora. And I have a bag of apples and some chocolate pudding. Sounds like you’re going to make some pies.”

Ellie smiled. “I’d invite you to join us ---“

He raised his hand. “Gracias, but no.” He cast a wary glance around the tree line, as if half-expecting to see a dinosaur watching them from the shadows. “I go no farther than this. We see those flying beasts again as we approached. One nearly flew right into us!”

Alan looked up with interest. “I was going to ask you about them,” he said. “So, they’re still near the coast?”

“Si, Señor, we see several of them.”

Alan nodded, pleased. “That’s good, that’s good,” he said to Ellie. “With a little luck, maybe everything will go as planned.”

Miguel did not ask what they were planning. Instead, he helped Alan set the boxes of supplies on the four-wheeler, then went back inside the plane for one last item. He returned carrying a bundle of newspapers tied with a string. “I found some of those American newspapers you wanted.”

Alan’s face lit up, eagerly, and he reached for the bundle. On the top was a U.S.A. Today, only three days old. “Thank you, Miguel. I appreciate that.”

“My pleasure, Señor Grant.” He handed Alan the receipts for the purchases, totaled at the bottom.

Alan glanced at them, calculating so quickly in his head that Miguel never realized that the paleontologist had just checked his figures, then he withdrew a bank voucher from his pocket and wrote in the amount on Miguel’s receipt, including the amount agreed upon for the service, then signed it with his bold scrawl, and handed it to him.

Miguel folded up the voucher and placed it in his pocket. “Gracias, Señor Grant. We see you again in six weeks?”

“I’m not sure. With Ellie’s help, I think I’m reaching the end of my stay on this island,” Alan said, drawing a surprised glance from the paleobotanist. “I’m not sure if we’ll need another supply drop or not, but I’ll call you to let you know for sure.”

“Take care, Señor,” Miguel advised. “It would be a shame to get this far and then . . . “ His voice trailed off. “Just take care. I will talk to you soon.”

The two men shook hands, then Miguel offered a friendly hand to Ellie, and as she took it, she saw a teasing gleam in the Costa Rican man’s dark eyes. He then returned to the plane along with his cousin, and the two scientists watched as the airplane accelerated down the runway and soared back into the sky. Then, they were alone once again.

Alan placed the bundle of newspapers on top of the stack of boxes, and his eyes lingered on the overloaded four-wheeler with a sigh of dread. “This load just gets bigger and bigger,” he said. “It’s going to easily take more than twice as long to push this load back to the compound as it took us to get here.”

Ellie felt bad about the extra items she had ordered. “I’m sorry. When I ordered all this stuff for pies and cakes, I didn’t stop to think that you’d be the one pushing the hand truck all the way back to the dorm.” Rising to the challenge, she stepped beside him, and bumped him with her hip. “Move over, and I’ll help you push.”

He moved to one side and let her grasp the handle next to him, and together they began pushing the heavy hand truck toward the tree line. “Just what did you get, anyway?”

“Well, we have some fresh apples,” she began, indicating the large bag of apples that lay on top of the stack. “Look how ripe and delicious they look.” She caught him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and knew that she had his amused attention, so she continued to play the game. “Think of how wonderful they’re going to taste in one of my homemade pies. And there are also enough that we can just eat them right off the core. We haven’t had any good fruit since we’ve been here. And I also got a couple of boxes of chocolate pudding. And I got an extra couple of bags of flour and sugar for the pies and cakes. And extra peanut butter for some more cookies, and chocolate chips --“

“Did you come here to work, or bake?” he teased.

“Well, you know as well as I do that it rains a lot here. I need something to occupy my time during those dreary days.”

“Looks like I’m going to be taking extra turns on the exercise equipment to burn off all the calories I'm going to be consuming!" he quipped.

 

                                                    ~~~~~~~~~~

Victoria Chavez sat nervously in the back seat of the single engine airplane, staring at the vast expanse of blue sky above them and blue-green Pacific Ocean below, through the space between the two men who occupied the front seats. She knew their names only by what they called one another: Tate and Caskey. A third man, called Reese, sat beside her on the edge of his seat, his face pressed against the window on his side of the plane. Finding no sign of land on which to set the plane down, he leaned across her lap to look out the other window. His worried expression frightened the child even more. Outside the window, the engine sputtered again, then recovered, but the pilot had told the other two men that they would have to find some land, for the plane could not go much farther.

“I thought you said there were islands around here!” Reese said, his voice trembling with panic. He slid back to his own window again and squinted into the sun’s glare on the choppy water.

“There are,” Caskey snapped, his temper heightened by his own fear. “We just have to find one!”

“If we don’t find one soon, we’re not going to have to worry about it much longer!” the pilot told them.

Tory knew what that meant. If they did not find land, they would crash in the ocean and drown. She whimpered, fearfully, clutching her doll against her, wishing her mother was there to comfort her.

“Shut up!” Caskey shouted. Whirling in his seat, he grasped the front of Tory’s blouse in his fist and pulled her closer, glaring viciously at the frightened six year old girl. “We have enough trouble without having to put up with you bawling!” He shoved her back into her seat, and released her.

Tory sniffled and choked back the sob that threatened to explode from her painfully constricted throat. She hugged her doll tightly and tried to make herself smaller on the seat.

 

The men were frightened, and that fact terrified the child, who looked to the adults for comfort and security. Her large brown eyes stared out the window of the plane, looking down at the water below, the surface of which seemed much closer than it should have.

Caskey was also looking down at the rough water. “What if we have to ditch in the ocean?” he asked. ‘How long would this thing float?”

“This type of plane is not equipped for a water landing,” the pilot answered. “It is imperative that we find land and find it soon!” After a moment of hesitation, knowing that his suggestion would not be well received, he said, “Our best bet is to notify the authorities of our position, so they can come and look for us.”

“No!” Caskey shouted. “Out of the question!”

“Look, it is not a matter of ‘if’ this plane is going down; it’s a matter of ‘when’. Unless someone knows we’re out here, there is no hope of a rescue.”

“There has to be another way!” Caskey protested. “There has to ---“

“Is that an island?” Reese asked abruptly, pointing through the window on the left of the plane.

Tate looked quickly at the gray shadow on the horizon and squinted against the sun’s glare on the water. “Yes!” he exclaimed, triumphantly. “We just might get out of this alive, yet!” The yoke was vibrating violently in his hands. It was all he could do to hold the plane level, and his arms were beginning to ache from the effort. Carefully, he turned the yoke, and the plane banked to the left.

They soared over the choppy waves, continuing to gradually lose altitude as they approached the island. They were flying low, below the radar that would have alerted the Costa Rican government of intruders. They had filed no aviation flight plan, and they had taken off from the private California airfield in the middle of the night, stopping at predetermined, remote airports to refuel. Everything had been carefully planned to avoid detection by the authorities, but all three men were keenly aware of the fact that it meant there would be no rescue, for no one would know where they went down.

“Damn it! There’s no place to land!” Caskey said, fearfully as they soared between two heavily forested mountains. “There’s nothing but trees and mountain ranges!”

“I see that!” Tate replied through gritted teeth, maintaining a firm hold on the yoke and somehow managing to skim over the heavily foliated summit that jutted up from the rugged terrain. “There has to be a field or some kind of open area after we get away from these mountains. Keep a sharp eye out.”

The engine sputtered again, ominously, and briefly took a heart-stopping dive before Tate managed to pull it back into a level position. “I can’t hold it much longer,” he warned. Sweat had popped out on his forehead and beaded on his upper lip. “We have to find a place to land, now!”

The other two men were desperately searching the rugged ground below, seeking a level area on which to land. After several more minutes, Caskey pointed. “Is that a building over there?”

Tate glanced quickly at the small cluster of large buildings that dominated the valley just ahead of them. “Yeah, it is.” He studied the length and breadth of the valley in which the building has been constructed, and shook his head. “There’s no room for me to land here with those buildings. We’ll have to find someplace else to set it down.”

“I don’t see anybody down there,” Caskey said, gazing at the compound as they soared overhead. He pressed his face against the Plexiglas as he looked behind the plane. “There are cars and trucks, though, so that means people must be around somewhere, maybe in one of those buildings.”

“Maybe they’ll have some sort of communications device,” Tate suggested. “If there are people living here, then they had to have a way to get on and off this island, perhaps a boat or another plane.”

Barely managing to remain above the tree tops, the plane skimmed over the ridge, leaving the cluster of buildings, and the civilization they represented, behind. The three men continued to survey the rugged terrain, their wide eyes riveted on the ground as they searched for a possible landing place. For some distance, there was nothing below them except seemingly endless jungle. Finally, the foliage began to thin somewhat, offering small clearings with scattered clusters of trees before finally a narrow clearing opened up before them that showed some promise.

“Can you land there?” Caskey asked, leaning so far forward that he was almost speaking into the pilot’s ear. Raising his arm between the two men in the front seat, he pointed through the front windshield. “The clearing isn’t very long. Can you stop it before we hit those trees?”

“I don’t know, but we don’t have a choice,” Tate answered. “This plane isn’t going any farther. Hold on to something. We’re going down hard!”

His arms were beginning to knot from the strain of holding the disabled plane in the air. Easing forward on the yoke, he put the small craft into a relatively controlled descent, skimming close to the treetops in an effort to utilize as much of the valley as possible. The tree tops scraped the bottom of the plane with an alarming clatter, and then they were in the clearing.

They hit the ground with bone-jarring force, and the plane skidded down the valley, digging up great clumps of grassy turf as Tate tried to brake the aircraft, staring through the windshield with wide eyes as they rushed toward the trees at the far end of the clearing. Finally the plane crashed to an abrupt stop against a large tree. Caskey was hurled into the windshield, while Tate was stopped by the steering yoke. Tory and Reese slammed against the backrests of the seats in front of them. A flock of birds rose into the sky from the tree tops like a colorful cloud, squawking loudly.

Then there was silence.

Reese lifted his head to look tentatively around. The little girl was huddled on the floor between the front and rear seats. “Is everyone all right?” he asked.

Tory looked up, her face streaked with tears, and nodded.

“Tate?”

Tate groaned, painfully.

Reese rose up to look over the seat back. Tate was slumped in the pilot’s seat, his arms hugging his abdomen. His sunglasses were askew on his nose, and the headset had come off. On his right, Caskey was crumpled on the front seat against the door, apparently unconscious. Turning his attention back to the injured pilot, he asked, “Tate, you okay?” He reached out and clutched his shoulder.

Tate’s cry of pain ended in something resembling a sob. The sunglasses slipped from his nose, and landed in his lap, but he paid no heed. “Oh, God it hurts!” he groaned, pressing his arms tighter against his abdomen.

Reese knew without being told that Tate had had been flung against the steering yoke. “Try not to move around too much.” Shifting his attention back to the other man, he grasped his shoulder and shook him in an attempt to revive him. “Caskey? You okay?”

There was no answer, but Caskey was quickly forgotten as the smell of fuel reached his nostrils, inciting instant panic.

His hand sought out the door handle, but the door refused to budge. Frantically, he slammed his shoulder against it in an effort to force it open. It gave slightly, but held. He slammed against it again, and this time the door gave way sending the man tumbling onto the grass.

He jumped up, and ran away from the plane, fearful that the fuel would ignite a fire. Safely away from the aircraft, he turned back to look at it. The dust stirred up during the crash was drifting across the valley like a fog. The plane was a twisted heap of wreckage lying on its belly, its front end smashed against the huge tree that had stopped its uncontrolled momentum, but there seemed to be no sparks, no smoke, no indication at all of an impending fire. As he watched from his safe vantage point, Tory climbed hesitantly from the back seat through the open door, looking fearfully around.

Satisfied that the plane would not explode, Reese approached it again, experiencing no guilt whatsoever that he had abandoned the child to secure his own safety. Reaching inside the plane, he grabbed the plastic bag off the floor that contained the girl’s coloring book and crayons, and shoved them at her. “Go sit down over there,” he instructed, pointing to a shady spot nearby.

“M-my dolly,” she said, her voice trembling.

“I’ll get your dolly later. Right now, I have other problems. Now do as I say.”

Taking her bag of crayons, she cast one longing glance toward the plane, in which her doll still lay, then complied with Reese’s instructions. Moving into the shade, she sat down on the grass, but did not feel like coloring, so she placed the bag on the grass beside her and watched as Reese checked on the other two men.

Circling the rear of the twisted pile of metal that had brought them to the island, he pried open the co-pilot’s door and caught the unconscious man before he tumbled out the door. He set him upright in the seat again, but the man’s head lolled to one side.

“Ray? You okay?”

When there was no answer, he turned Caskey’s face toward him and saw with a start that blood was streaming copiously from a gash in his forehead. Hesitantly, he reached out and placed his fingertips against the side of his neck, and felt relieved when he felt the steady throbbing of life.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he breathed, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. “We’re all still alive.” Leaving the door open, he circled the plane again to the pilot’s side, and pulled open that door as well. “Hey, Tate, how bad’re you hurt?”

“I don’t know,” Tate groaned. “I think I busted something inside.”

“Come on; let’s get you out of this heap.” He placed his arm around the injured pilot, and assisted him to his feet. Doubled over at the waist, his arms still wrapped protectively around his middle, Tate allowed Reese to escort him away from the plane, and lowered him to the grass beside the girl. “You just lay still. I’ll see about Caskey.”

Tate rolled over onto his side and doubled up in obvious agony while Reese moved around the plane to the passenger side again.

Caskey groaned and stirred painfully, leaning toward the open door. He felt himself falling, and before he could stop himself, he tumbled onto the ground with a hard jolt that brought him fully conscious. Sitting up, he cradled his throbbing head in his hand and groaned again.

Reese hurried to his side. “Ray, are you okay?”

“What the hell happened?”

“We made it down, but ran out of landing strip and hit a tree. You hit your head on the windshield,” he added, indicating the spider-web patter of cracks in the windshield. He glanced at the pilot, who lay writhing on the ground. “I don’t think Tate’s gonna make it. He may have internal injuries; busted ribs at the very least.” He attempted to pry Caskey’s hands away from his head. “Here, let me take a look.”

“What are you, a doctor?” Caskey asked, sarcastically.

Reese released him. “Fine, take care of yourself then.” He stood up and strode back to the injured pilot.

After a few moments, Caskey struggled to his feet, and supported himself on the wreckage of the plane until he was suitably balanced, then he staggered toward the others. Stopping a short distance away, he gestured for Reese to join him.

“How’s the girl?” he asked quietly as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and applied it to the gaping wound on his temple.

Reese glanced over his shoulder at the small child, who sat by herself in the grass, looking frightened. “She’s fine. Scared, but she only has a few scratches.”

“That’s good. Salvatore will be none too happy if the girl is injured.” He paused to look at the blood on the handkerchief, feeling somewhat alarmed by the amount. “Well, got any idea what we should do from here?”

“Well, we have a couple of options. If it’s still working, we could use the airplane’s radio to call for help –“

“Out of the question,” Caskey interrupted. “They would ask a bunch of questions that we can’t afford to answer.”

“ -- or we can hike down to those buildings and see if they have something useful to us.”

Caskey was no more pleased with that option than he was the first. “What do you suggest we do, waltz right in the front door and ask if we can hijack a plane or a boat?”

“Of course, not,” Reese retorted, offended. “In the first place, Tate is in no condition to pilot a plane right now, and I certainly don’t know how. I say we go in after dark and have a look around. We should be able to get a door or window open. At the very least, we should be able to steal some food and water. Maybe we can take one of those cars to get us down to the coast. There’s bound to be a boat docked up somewhere.”

“Even if there is, how do we find it? There’s a lot of coastline on this island.”

“Don’t you ever think? If they have cars, there must be some kind of road; probably not asphalt, but at least a trail leading to whatever they use to get on and off this island.”

Caskey nodded, finally agreeing, but the gesture made his head throb, which in turn was causing his stomach to churn. “All right. That’s a pretty good idea, actually. I have Salvatore’s phone number somewhere in my luggage. If they have a telephone, we should be able to call him, and he can send someone after us.”

Hope sprang to Reese’s eyes. “That’s great! I mean, if there are people living here, they’re bound to have a phone, right?”

“Right.” Caskey allowed his eyes to wander over the wilderness area in which they were stranded. “What do we do in the meantime?”

“There’s nothing we can do except wait. We have some sandwiches in the compartment. We’ll eat, rest up a bit, and then after dark, we’ll start walking.”

“All right,” Caskey agreed. “I’m going to lie down for a while. My head is killing me. I don’t suppose you have any aspirin, do you?”

Reese shook his head. “No. Sorry. With that head injury, I’m not sure you should be taking anything like that anyway. Don’t fall asleep, either. Try to stay awake.”

“Why?” Caskey asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just what I’ve always heard. People with head injuries aren’t supposed to fall asleep.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard,” Caskey retorted. “I couldn’t fall asleep anyway; my head hurts too bad.” Moving into the shade, he sat down beside the groaning pilot, and stretched out on the grass, his bloody handkerchief pressed against his temple.

Left alone, Reese stood in the sun and looked at the two injured men. Why had he allowed himself to be talked into this fiasco?

 

 

---

 

 

 

TWENTY SIX

“I’ve got to sit down and rest,” Tate groaned, sinking slowly onto the soft mossy ground. He placed his flashlight on the ground beside him and doubled over his injured abdominal area, hugging himself in his pain.

About a dozen paces ahead of him, Reese glanced at the illuminated face of his watch, and cast an annoyed glance at Caskey, who, in his own discomfort from his head wound, had fallen behind as well, and was about six paces ahead of the pilot. It was nearly three thirty. They had departed the crash sight over three hours earlier, and were making their way in the direction they had seen the buildings, but between Tate, Caskey, and the little girl, the progress had been much slower than had been anticipated.

“With all these rest stops you two are taking, it’s going to take all night,” Reese complained.

“Then it’ll take all night,” Caskey snapped as he probed the laceration of his forehead. With a low groan, he sat down as well, laying his rifle on the ground beside him. Bending forward, he rested his head on his hand and closed his eyes. He was fighting waves of dizziness and nausea in addition to his throbbing headache, and an hour earlier he had heaved up the sandwich he had eaten for supper. He had no medical training, but common sense told him that all were symptoms of concussion, and knew that both he and the pilot needed to see a doctor. “I don’t suppose you have any aspirin on you?” he asked.

Reese expressed his impatience with a heavy sigh. “For the third time, no.” He shifted restlessly, wanting nothing more than to get off that island and get things back on schedule. Occasionally, he heard the rustling of leaves and fronds in the jungle when there was no breeze, and the hair prickled on the back of his neck with the uneasy sensation frequently experienced by those who are being watched by someone unseen. His flashlight beam explored the darkness around them, but failed to locate the malevolent presence in the shadows that he believed was observing them.

The silence was broken by Caskey’s ragged cough, and Reese spun around, shining the light directly in the injured man’s face. Caskey raised his hand to ward off the brightness of the beam. “Get that light out of my face! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“I’m not sure,” Reese replied as he shifted the beam into the jungle again. “I have the feeling we’re being watched.”

Both Caskey and Tate raised their heads to exchange glances, then looked into the darkness around them. No moonlight filtered through the canopy to aid their vision; they had only the thin beams from their flashlights to push back the darkness. Even though they were dubious, just the notion that someone could be watching them from the shadows was enough to make them apprehensive.

Detecting no sign of anything threatening, Caskey lowered his head to his hands again. “I think you’re imagining things.”

Reese was unconvinced. “Maybe . . .” His voice trailed as he continued to probe the darkness with his flashlight.

Silently, Tory sat down on a grassy patch of ground, clutching her plastic baggy with the coloring book and crayons inside. Reese was spooked, and his nervousness in turn was frightening her. She longed for the comforting presence of her doll in her arms. Reese had broken his promise to retrieve her dolly from the plane before embarking on the hike through the woods, but she dared not complain, recognizing the irritability in the expressions on his face every time Tate or Caskey had requested a few minutes to stop and rest. Even in her youth, she knew that the pilot was in bad shape and that Caskey was sick. She had heard the awful sounds of him retching just off the trail, and knew he did not feel up to traveling.

After a few minutes of pacing back and forth, his flashlight constantly searching the area around them, Reese said, “Maybe I should go on ahead and see if I can find those buildings.”

“You’re not thinking of running out on us, are you?” Caskey asked, raising his head again to glare at him suspiciously.

“No, of course not,” Reese answered. “I was thinking you three could stay here and rest, and I could make better time alone. If I find anything useful ---“

A twig snapped somewhere behind them, halting Reese mid-sentence and causing all three men to start and spin in that direction, aiming their flashlights at the dark jungle. The beams cut glowing ribbons of light through the pitch black beneath the canopy, but revealed only the fronds and branches of the native foliage hanging limply in the still night air.

“Did you hear that?” Reese asked, even though it was obvious that they had from the triple beams of lights directed into the dark behind them. “Who’s there?” he asked, trying to sound commanding, but his voice was weak with fear. “Show yourself!” His flashlight snapped frantically from one point to another, but failed to illuminate anything out of the ordinary. “I told you! Someone’s back there!”

Tate, bringing up the rear, was closest to where the sound had come from, and he prudently scooted closer to his companions, reminded that there was safety in numbers. Unfortunately, their numbers were small. Caskey picked up his rifle and laid it across his lap as his flashlight and the other two darted from one point to another, searching for the source of the sound.

They listened carefully. Where there should have been frogs and crickets chirruping, they heard nothing except the unnatural silence.

“Could just be an animal,” Caskey said, rising to his feet, his flashlight still directed at the jungle behind them. “What kinds of animals inhabit these tropical islands?”

“How should I know?” Reese retorted. “I’ve never been here before!”

Trying to ignore the throbbing in his head, Caskey grasped Tate by the hand and pulled him to his feet. “I think we should get going. The sooner we get to those buildings, the better.”

With Tate standing rather unsteadily on his feet again, Reese grasped the girl’s hand to make sure she kept up, and he took the lead, forging ahead.

The jungle had thinned considerably, and trees were spaced farther apart, but there was still sufficient cover in the underbrush for whatever was stalking them. Walking in a tight group, all three men cast nervous glances into the dark, turning the beams of their flashlights in all directions, and occasionally, one of them aimed it behind them, certain that they were being followed.

A short time later, they heard the rustling of leaves as something moved through the low-lying brush on their right, and all three flashlights snapped in that direction. This time, the beams caught a glowing yellow orb suspended about three feet above the ground. Caskey’s body shuddered in terror, recognizing it as the eye shine of an unidentified animal caught in the reflection of the flashlight.

“What is that?” Reese asked, his voice trembling in fear. “What the hell is it?”

“An animal of some kind,” Caskey replied. He raised the rifle into firing position, aiming at the yellow orb, but did not pull the trigger. “I can’t make out what it is.”

“Why don’t you shoot it?” Reese demanded.

“If there are people living in those buildings, a gunshot would alert them to our presence. I don’t want to shoot unless it’s necessary.” Lowering the rifle, he lunged toward the animal with a shout, hoping to drive it away with a display of aggression. The glowing orb disappeared from the flashlight beam, and they heard the rustling of the brush as an animal retreated.

“I think you scared it off,” Reese said, hopefully.

“Let’s get going. I think we’re getting close to those buildings,” he added. “With a little luck, we can get there before it comes back.”

A low growl rumbled behind them, and they whirled around to face it, but their flashlights found nothing. Whatever it was, it was concealing itself in the foliage.

“I think it may be a jungle cat of some kind,” Reese said, his panic growing. “I can’t think of anything else that would growl like that.”

The rustling of brush indicated that it was moving toward them, and a thin high pitched squeal unlike anything they had ever heard before split the silence. On panicked impulse, Reese raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired into the darkness in the general direction of the squeal, even though he couldn’t see the animal he was shooting at.

 

                                                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside the dormitory, Alan and Ellie sat bolt upright in their beds, jolted from their sleep by the unexpected report. Both sat still for several moments, listening, wondering what had made the bang, and waiting to see if there were others. For the moment, however, there was total silence.

“Alan?” Ellie asked from the other side of the fabric wall.

“Yeah, I heard it.” He leaped out of bed and pulled on his jeans, then a moment later shoved open the curtain to his cubical and strode toward the corridor.

Knowing that he was headed for the rooftop deck, Ellie jumped out of bed and followed him, modestly pulling down the hem of the oversized tee-shirt in which she slept. In the corridor, Alan jogged up the stairs that led to the roof, and opened the trap door. Stepping onto the deck, he went immediately to the railing, the best vantage point to see the area around the research center, and raised the binoculars to his eyes, adjusting the focus with his forefinger.

The building loomed large and dark through the treetops, but as he panned the length of the structure, he detected nothing out of the ordinary. Panning slowly to the left, he appraised the area in front of it. He could just make out the shells of some of the damaged vehicles through gaps in the foliage, but again, he saw nothing unusual. He continued panning to the left, working his way across the yard and up the slope that led into the jungle.

“What do you think it was?” Ellie asked at his elbow. “Could something have blown up over at the center?”

“I don’t know. It sounded like a gunshot. Maybe some live ammunition is stored somewhere inside that we haven’t ---“ He abruptly broke off his sentence.

“Do you see something?” she asked.

“Yeah. There’s a small group of lights on the rise near the research center. Three of them, from what I can make out through the trees.”

"Lights? What kind of lights?"

He shook his head, slowly. "I swear they look like flashlights. They stay in one place for a few seconds, shining back and forth like they’re looking for something, and then they start moving again. They’re moving toward the facility."

Pointing in the proper direction, he passed the binoculars to her. Raising them to her eyes, she observed the three lights moving through the darkness. They flickered as they passed behind trees and shrubs, but they were definitely making their way toward the research center.

"They do look like flashlights," she agreed. "But if they are flashlights . . "

"Then they’re being carried by humans," he completed the sentence.

She looked anxiously into his face as she passed the binoculars back to him. "Do you suppose they’re looking for us? Maybe something’s happened at home, and they’re trying to locate us."

He shook his head. "Not in the middle of the night. Your parents know there are dangerous animals here. If they sent anyone to find you, they would come during the daylight, and if it was an emergency, they would probably have come by helicopter. No, whoever these people are, they’re trying to avoid detection by traveling after dark."

Ellie shuddered. "Then they’re up to no good."

"That would be my guess."

"Maybe they’re trying to steal research information to try to start up another dinosaur park," she suggested.

He shook his head, slowly. "I don’t think so. I’m thinking maybe drug dealers or gun smugglers, something like that. They may think the deserted buildings here are perfect places to store their cache."

"That’s even worse."

They fell silent, watching the moving, bobbing flashlights as the people who carried them proceeded toward the edge of the rise above the main building of the research complex.

Then they heard it, piercing the peaceful still of the night like a sharp knife --- the frantic, high pitched screaming of unspeakable, bone-chilling terror.

Ellie felt Alan tense beside her. It was the sound he had heard too often, and had hoped never to hear again. Looking into his face, she saw him grimace.

"Looks like we’re not the only ones who have been watching them," he said, grimly. He raised the binoculars again, not wanting to look, but knowing he must.

"Can you see what it is?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It’s too dark. My guess would be raptors."

Gunshots split the night air again, and both of them flinched. Two of the bobbing flashlights were moving more rapidly, now, racing erratically down the slope toward the perceived safety of the large building, apparently hoping the animals would not follow them inside. The third light had disappeared, its bearer obviously having been taken down by the predators.

"Damn it," Alan breathed.

Turning abruptly, he trotted back down the stairs and went to his cubical with Ellie right behind him. He sat down on his bunk and pulled on his shoes, then snatched his shirt off the railing at the foot of his bed and thrust one arm into the sleeve.

Ellie clutched his other arm, desperately. "No! You’re not going out there!"

"How can I not?” he replied, pulling his arm free and thrusting it into the other sleeve.

“It’s too dangerous!” she insisted. “Not only are the raptors out there, but those people have guns! You could get hurt!”

“Ellie, I have to know what’s going on with those people. If they’re drug dealers or smugglers, then they could be even more of a threat to us than the raptors! I’ll be all right. I’ll stay in the shadows until I know what they’re up to.” He paused to button the shirt down the front. “You stay here,” he told her as he brushed past and hurried out the door.

“Like hell!” she retorted. Stepping quickly into her cubical, she snatched up a pair of jeans and her sneakers, and she followed him into the corridor.

He stopped on the landing and grasped her by the shoulders. “Ellie, I don’t have time to argue with you.”

“Then stop arguing! I’m not staying here, wondering what’s happening over there! No way!”

He sighed with resignation. Short of tying her up, there was no way he could force her to stay behind. “All right, but let me take the lead.”

He trotted rapidly down the stairs, tucking his shirttails in at the same time, with Ellie right behind him, still carrying her shoes and jeans. When he reached the foyer, he did not turn on the lights for fear that they would be seen by the strangers and alert them of their presence. Crossing the foyer in swift strides, he reached for the pistol box which sat on the small platform on the hat stand, but his hands fumbled in the dark and knocked it onto the floor. “Damn it,” he breathed.

While he squatted down and reached under the platform for the box, Ellie quickly stepped into her jeans, then leaned back against the wall to put on her shoes. By the time he had retrieved the pistol, slammed the clip into the handle, opened the solid front door of the building, and inserted the key in the lock on the bars, she was pressing close against him, ready to go.

Together, they slipped out the door, and while Alan paused, pistol ready, to survey the immediate area, Ellie closed and securely locked the iron bars. When he heard the key click in the lock, he turned to face her and jerked his head toward the grove of trees that separated the research facility from the dormitory. He did not speak, but she nodded, understanding that they would be proceeding quietly.

For as long as possible, they remained against the cinder block walls of the dormitory, and when they reached the corner, Alan stopped to peer cautiously around it, verifying that there was no danger concealed on other side of the building. Awash in silvery moon glow, the yard was clear all the way to the grove. Leaving the security of the solid wall, they sprinted across the open area, and entered the tree line.

Without pausing, they proceeded through the cover of the foliage, trying to make as little noise as possible as they pushed their way rapidly through the undergrowth. They reached the other side uneventfully, and paused just inside the protection of the trees to investigate area around the research center.

Upon being confronted with the clutter of damaged vehicles in the yard, the two remaining men paused nervously, shining their flashlights at the broken windows and dented shells of the cars and trucks in utter bewilderment. Frequently, they turned the lights behind them, but it appeared that they were not being pursued. Alan suspected that the raptors were currently feeding on the victim. Whether they would track down the rest of the party depended upon how many animals were in the pack and how hungry they were.

One of the men was carrying a rifle under his right arm, ready to raise it into firing position. The flashlight was carried in his left hand, and he shone the light at one of the smashed windshields. “What the hell happened here?” Alan heard the man say, his voice carrying quite easily in the still air. He was obviously jittery, and Alan had no intention of giving him a target to shoot at, so he and Ellie remained perfectly still, concealed by the trees and bushes.

“I think this place has been abandoned for a long time, now,” said the other man, his voice shaking with fear as he shone his own flashlight toward the building, taking note of the shattered windows and debris lying about.

“So much for your bright ideas,” the first man retorted, but before the other man could respond, he added, “What were those things?”

“I don’t know. I never got a good look at one of them. They just grabbed Tate and dragged him into the jungle!”

As they drew nearer and passed between two of the vehicles, the two scientists saw that a smaller being was being tugged along by the hand behind one of them. Ellie clutched Alan’s arm suddenly, and pointed toward them. “They have a child with them!” she whispered, urgently.

As they listened, the sound of a child’s muffled weeping reached their ears, and to Ellie’s horror, one of the men shook her roughly by the arm and cruelly slammed her against one of the vehicles. “Shut up, you little brat!” the man commanded, his voice rising in anger. “Your whining will lead them right to us!”

Ellie’s maternal instinct was to protect the child from the brutality of the two men, but Alan’s restraining hand on her shoulder held her in check. She looked up into his face, and he shook his head slightly. Wait, his expression said.

When the man’s command failed to hush the child, the man grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back so that her face was tilted upward. “Don’t think I won’t throw you to those animals if comes down to you or me!” he threatened.

The girl sniffled, but her cries faded. The man released her with a shove that caused her to stumble. Her hand immediately went to the sore spot on her head where her hair had been pulled.
Ellie made an aggrieved sound in her throat, a whimper of pity for the frightened child. Alan placed his arm around her and pulled her against him. “Shhh,” he whispered gently in her ear.

Still pulling the obviously frightened and exhausted child behind them, the two men approached the facility and started up the steps. The little girl tripped on one of the steps, and the man pulled her up forcibly by the hand and shook her again. “Pick your feet up!”

“I can’t take much more of this!” Ellie whispered.

“They’re so jittery that if they see so much as our shadow, they’re going to start shooting,” Alan whispered back.

Ellie knew he was right, but the sight of the little girl’s fear and misery tugged at her heart. “How can they treat a child like that?” she whispered with disgust.

Reaching the top of the steps, they paused on the portico to gaze at the open doors and the litter of leaves, twigs, and branches. Leaning inside the open doors, the one with the rifle peered into the darkened interior of the building while the other one, the one with the child, shone the flashlight behind them again, verifying that they were still safe.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to find a way off this island in here,” said the one with the rifle as he withdrew his upper body from the doorway. “Looks like power has been off for a long time.”

“At this point, all I care about is getting inside,” the other replied. “Maybe those things won’t follow us in there.”

Alan muttered under his breath, “Don’t bet on it.”

The two men and the child disappeared through the front doors, and they tugged the glass doors closed behind them in an apparent effort to hold the raptors at bay, but Alan knew it was a futile endeavor.

Alan and Ellie looked up the slope in the direction from which the men had come, but there was still no sign of the raptors. Alan was beginning to have hopes that the creatures had satisfied themselves on the one victim, and would return to their nesting site.

Ellie started forward, but Alan’s hand remained on her shoulder in a firm grip, holding her back. She looked into his face. “Alan, we have to do something to help that child! Even if the raptors don't follow them inside, we’re witnesses to blatant abuse!”

“I know, but they’re going to be watching that front door, and in their panicked state, they’re likely to shoot us before they even realize we’re human,” he told her. “There are other entrances that we can use. Come on.”

Leaving the shelter of the trees, they sprinted to the long side wall of the research facility, and remained in its shadow as they hurried along the building’s angles and extensions until they reached a solid door near the rear corner of the structure. A flatbed truck was parked near the door, presumably used for making the trip to the landing strip to retrieve supplies. Like the ones at the front of the building, its tires were flat, the windows smashed, and the shell dented.

“I didn’t take you into this part of the facility,” he told her quietly as he turned the knob and opened the door. “Nothing of much interest. Storage, mostly. They unloaded their research supplies here.” He gestured for her to enter first, then he followed her inside.

Gooseflesh crawled up Ellie’s arms as she pressed her back against the wall and waited for her eyes to become adjusted to the darkness inside the building. Being inside the research facility was spooky enough during the daylight hours, but in the dark, knowing there were strangers inside with a rifle, was very unsettling.

Alan pulled the door closed behind them, and Ellie felt him brush past her in the inky blackness of the interior. Concerned for their safety as well as that of the child, she grasped his arm, stopping him. “What’s the plan? I mean, we’ll be in front of them, now. They’re not expecting anything alive to be inside, so as soon as they hear us, they’re likely to panic and start shooting.”

“From inside, we can watch and listen and try to get some idea of who they are and what they’re doing here before we make a move to contact them.”

Moving past Ellie, he felt his way along the wall, ignoring the storage rooms they passed, until he came to an intersection in the corridor, and turned toward the main corridor.

Marveling at his ability to find his way around that maze of rooms in near pitch darkness, she fell in step behind him. They passed a number of doors, some of them open, but it was too dark to determine what was inside them.

Finally, Alan stopped beside a closed door and held out his hand to stop her as well. “This is an alternate door that opens into the hatchery,” he whispered.

“I never noticed another door,” she whispered back.

“It’s near the corner of the room, and is partially hidden behind a stack of boxes. I didn’t notice it until the second time I was here.”

Cautiously, Alan turned the knob and slowly cracked open the door to listen for the sound of voices or footsteps, anything that would alert him to the close proximity of the strangers. When no sounds came back to his alert ears, he opened the door wide enough to step through, and crouched down behind the stack of boxes that had been left there.

Moonlight and starlight filtered through the skylights and the smudged and shattered windows, providing adequate visibility throughout the cavernous room. The stack of boxes was approximately four feet high, and Ellie was able to read the lettering stenciled on the top box: Erlenmeyer Flasks. Directly beneath it was a box labeled: Microcentrifuge Tubes. Obviously, the last shipment of supplies had not been unpacked prior to the evacuation.

Ellie slipped through the door and pressed close behind Alan as he leaned around the boxes to view the hatchery. The incubators and glass cylinders stood like silent sentinels amid years of accumulations of debris. Nothing in the room was moving, either human or animal, so keeping a watchful eye on the upper level, they made their way across the large lab area toward the steps.

Halfway across the room, they heard footsteps crunching on the debris on the upper level, and quickly dropped down behind an incubator.

Peering around the edge, they looked up at the observation area and saw the two men approach the edge and stop, leaning against the railing. Curiously, they shone their flashlights below them at the roomful of strange objects.

“What the hell is all this?”

“Looks like a laboratory of some kind.”

The beam from one of the flashlights swooped over Alan’s head, and he dropped down until it had passed, then rose up again to watch the two men.

“What were they making in here? Frankenstein’s monster?” the first one asked, his flashlight beam coming to rest on one of the dinosaur hatchlings preserved in the large cylindrical containers.

“Maybe some kind of secret government experiments,” the other suggested. “Think we should move farther into the building?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Seems a good way to get lost or injured. This place looks pretty big.”

“I was thinking maybe we should get farther back in case those things follow us inside.”

“Don’t be silly, Reese. We closed the doors; there’s no way a dumb animal could open them. We’re safe as long as we’re inside this building. We’ll wait here until daylight, then look around see if we can locate something useful to get us off this damn island. Come on; I saw some candy and sodas in those vending machines. Let’s see if we can break ‘em open.”

The two scientists heard the shuffling of feet and the crunching of debris under shoes as the two strangers turned their backs on the hatchery and returned to the office areas.

Still crouched behind the incubator, Alan and Ellie exchanged a lengthy, meaningful glance in the moonlight. “They have no idea what they’re up against,” Ellie whispered.

“I know,” Alan agreed.

Quietly, they left their hiding place and crept up the stairs to the upper level, listening to the noise made by the two men as they attempted to break into the vending machines.

“Looks like someone else had the same idea,” said one of the men. “How long do you suppose the candy and chips have been here?”

“How should I know?” came the sarcastic reply of the one who appeared to be in charge.

Pressing against the wall, Alan leaned out just far enough that one eye could view the activity in the snack room. The little girl was standing quietly near the doorway leading back to the reception area, her back to the door, Alan noted with worry. If the raptors entered through the front door, she would be the first taken from that position. The man who had been carrying the rifle had managed to break into the soda machine, and was selecting cans from the display. The flashlight was tucked under his arm, and the rifle was standing on its stock against the wall. The other man was loading his arms with bags of potato chips, crackers, and candy.

Turning away from the machine, the man with the candy saw the girl standing in the doorway, and said loudly, “Get away from that door! If those things are out there, they might see you!”

The girl glanced fearful behind her.

“Get over here and sit down!” the man said, angrily, pointing toward the wall behind which Alan and Ellie were listening.

Alan withdrew from the doorway to avoid being spotted as the girl moved away from the doorway. The man shoved a bag of chips into her hand as she passed, and she sat down against the wall that separated her from the two people who wanted to help her. They heard the sound of the soda cans being popped open, but they noticed they were without the usual whishing sound that accompanied carbonated drinks.

“Damn, it’s flat.” He popped open another one, with the same results.

“Doesn’t matter. At least they’re wet. I can’t remember ever being this thirsty.”

“Yeah, you’re probably dehydrated from barfing your guts up out there.”

Cautiously, Alan peered around the door jamb again just as the man picked up his rifle and moved to the spot vacated by the girl. He placed his soda can on the coffee maker while he attentively gazed into the reception area. The rifle barrel was raised and ready to move into firing position if he saw anything threatening. Alan could see a large gash in his head which continued to ooze. Not a good sign. The raptors would smell the blood. The other man was still near the vending machines, trying to decide what he wanted to eat. The girl was seated on the floor, her back to Alan.

“Any sign of ‘em?” asked the second man as he struggled to open the wrapping on a candy bar.

“No. Nothing. I think they’re gone . . . whatever the hell they were.”

“Blah!” exclaimed the man with the candy bar, making a face of disgust. “The chocolate’s gone bad.” He tossed the bar aside and opened a bag of chips. “When is Salvatore expecting the girl?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I’m supposed to turn her over to him at a prearranged place, and he’ll in turn deliver the money. Looks like we only have to split it two ways, now, since Tate’s out of the picture.”

“I guess that’s the bright side of all this, isn’t it? These chips are stale.”

Alan glanced at Ellie, and he knew from her horrified expression that she was thinking the same thing he was: Were those men intending to sell the child on the Latin American black market?

The man with the rifle suddenly tensed and hefted his weapon, attracting the rapt attention of his companion. “What’s wrong?”

“Something ran past the window out there!”

“Was it one of those things?” he asked, joining him at the door.

“I couldn’t tell. It was moving too fast. I could have sworn it was on two legs, though!” He gestured into the reception area. “We’d better check it out.” Turning to the girl, he said, “You stay right where you are. Don’t you dare move, or you’ll regret it!” Then, leaving her there, the two men cautiously moved into the reception area and out of sight.

Alan made his move. Stepping quietly into the snack area, he crept up behind the girl and simultaneously placed one hand over the child’s mouth to prevent her from screaming in fear and the other arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor.

She immediately started to struggle, and he felt her breath against his hand as she tried to scream, but the sound was muffled. Placing his mouth close to the side of her head, he whispered into her ear. “It’s okay, honey. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Something in his voice seemed to sooth her, and she stopped struggling, but her eyes were huge with fear as he carried her out of the room and into Ellie’s waiting arms. She did not scream when Alan removed his hand, but it was clear that she did not trust either of them yet. She pressed against the wall, looking fearfully from one to the other.

“We won’t hurt you,” Ellie promised. “Are you related to those men?”

She shook her head.

“Are they friends? Friends of your mommy and daddy?”

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t know who they are. I want to go home.”

“We’ll see that you get home, okay? My name’s Ellie, and that’s Alan.”

“I think we should save the introductions for later,” Alan said, glancing worriedly around the door jamb. There was still no sign of the men, but he knew that wouldn’t last. “They’ll be coming back any moment.”

Taking the girl by the hand, Ellie led the way down the stairs and into the hatchery, with Alan right behind, keeping a wary eye on the door leading into the snack area. The warehouse seemed to be getting lighter; objects were more visible. Glancing toward the windows, Alan saw that the moon had been replaced by the soft gray sky that precedes dawn. Soon, the sun would be up.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they heard a series of gunshots, and they all jumped and turned toward the observation deck. Alan pushed them from behind. “Don’t stop. We can’t let them know we’re here!”

Ellie wasn’t sure if he was referring to the two men or the raptors, but one seemed as dangerous as they other, so she did not bother to question him. They began to run, Ellie still in the lead, clutching the girl’s hand tightly. They had nearly reached the stack of boxes when they heard one of them shout, “She’s gone! Stupid girl!”

“Forget her!” the other shouted back.

The two men rushed onto the observation deck, and ran down the stairs, their footsteps clanging loudly on the steps and echoing through the cavernous building.

Ellie and the child ran behind the boxes and through the door and into the darker area of the windowless corridor. A moment later, Alan rushed into the corridor and blundered into Ellie, who had stopped just inside the doorway, and knocked them both off balance.

“Keep going,” he instructed. Taking Ellie’s hand, he led the way along the corridor.

As soon as they went around the corner, though, he stopped. The child was whimpering with fear. Releasing Alan’s hand, Ellie knelt down and drew the frightened child into her arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said, soothingly.

Alan watched silently as the woman comforted the child, knowing what he had to do. "Wait here,” he instructed.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"They have no way off the island. If we leave them there, they’re going to die. I want to try to convince them to surrender themselves to me, and I can notify the authorities to come and pick them up.”

“They have a gun!” Ellie reminded him.

He patted the large bulge in the pocket of his jeans, and the handle that protruded from the top. “So do I. I’ll stay well concealed, though, so if they take a shot at me it won’t matter. Even if you hear a shot, don’t move from this spot.”

Leaving them there, he retraced his steps back along the corridor until he reached the hatchery. Quietly, he stepped through the door and concealed himself behind the boxes.

In front of him, slightly to his right, the two men crouched behind an incubator, apparently trying to hide from the raptors. It was light enough now that he could easily make out the long rifle barrel that protruded above one man’s shoulder. They had prudently turned off their flashlights.

"What the hell were those things?" asked the man with the weapon.

"I don’t know," answered his friend, "but I say we get the hell outta here!"

"Not without the girl."

The other man stared at him, incredulously. "Are you crazy? Forget her!"

"No! She’s worth a lot of money to me."

"Is she worth more than your life?"

The man with the rifle looked at him for a long moment, then said, "Listen, Reese, you don’t understand what I’m up against. I owe money to some people. Salvatore is paying me a lot of money to bring that girl to him, enough to get myself out of debt. If I lose her, I’m a dead man anyway. I’m not leaving without her."

"Then don’t go back! There are other places, Caskey.”

"No matter what I do, they’ll find me."

Reese sighed, heavily. "Then do what you will, but I’m not waiting around here to be killed by those . . . those things, whatever they are. I’m leaving. You can come, or stay."

"You think you’re any safer out there?" Caskey asked, gesturing toward the window with the weapon. "I’m the one with the rifle, remember? Without me, you‘ll never make it out alive."

"You weren’t much protection out there!" Reese stated with a broad sweep of his arm. "They were all over the place out there, and you couldn't hit a single one of them!"

"It was dark!"

“It isn’t that dark,” Reese retorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, the sun’s coming up!”

Reese wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but did not answer. Alan knew he was terrified, and had probably fired in haste without properly aiming the rifle.

The two men fell silent, and Alan knew that this was his best chance to make contact with them. Withdrawing the pistol from his pocket, he said, just loud enough for them to hear, “I would appreciate it if you would drop your rifle.”

Startled, the two men whirled around and flipped on their flashlights, searching the area behind them for the source of the command, but saw no sign of a living being. Miraculously, Caskey did not pull the trigger. Instead of obeying the command to drop the rifle, he raised it to his shoulder and propped the barrel in the hand that held the flashlight as it darted from one spot to another. The voice had echoed inside the warehouse, and it was difficult to pinpoint the direction from which it had come.

“Who said that?” he demanded, focusing on the large door leading into the kennel area, which seemed the most likely spot for a person to hide. “Who’s there?”

“My name is Alan Grant. I'm a scientist conducting research on the animals that inhabit this island. I prefer to deal with this situation peacefully, but you should know that I have a gun and I'm prepared to use it if necessary to protect myself.”

Caskey shifted the rifle away from the kennel door. The voice seemed to be coming from his right. He panned the rifle slowly along the wall, stopping on lab tables and incubators, which might be concealing the speaker. “You’re bluffing,” he accused. “You don’t have a gun.”

“Try me.”

Reese turned his flashlight toward the stack of boxes near the corner. “It’s coming from over there.”

Responding instantly, Caskey shifted the rifle to the boxes, but still could not see the person who was concealed there. “Get out from behind those boxes!” he commanded.

“You are in no position to give orders.”

Realizing that they were in full view of the scientist, the two strangers started to move around to the other side of the incubator, then thought better of it, for they would be in danger of attack from the animals.

“You have the girl, don’t you?” asked Caskey.

“She’s safe.”

"What do you want from us?”

“I want you to put down the rifle and surrender yourselves. I’ll notify the authorities to come and pick you up. It is the only way you can get off this island alive. The island you are on is called Isla Sorna, and those animals out there are velociraptors.”

“Veloci-what?” Caskey asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I sure as hell am not going to surrender to you!”

Reese grasped his arm. “Caskey, if it’s the only way ---“

“Shut up! If we surrender, we go to prison!”

Alan spoke up again, “Better prison than dead, which is what will happen if you don’t come with me.”

“Maybe I’ll just kill you instead, eh?”

“You don’t know how to call for help,” Alan told them. "The phones here aren't working, but I'm sure you've figured that out already."

“He’s right, Caskey!” Reese insisted, apparently willing to surrender himself if it meant getting off that island. “What choice do we have?”

“Your friend is smarter than you are, Caskey,” Alan said. “He knows it’s the only viable option for you. Throw down the gun and put your hands in the air.”

"No. You put down your gun and come out from behind those boxes. Then and only then will we be willing to discuss options for getting off this island."

"I have the upper hand here, gentlemen. You can either surrender to me, or deal with the raptors. Trust me, I will be a lot more accommodating."

The two men fell into angry whispering, speaking so low that the paleontologist could not hear them.

Alan waited, watchfully, knowing their conversation would likely attract the raptors. He did not have long to wait. Within minutes, he heard the distinctive thudding of footsteps on the tile floor that was not those of a human. The clicking of sharp claws as it approached designated it as a velociraptor.

The two strangers heard it too. Fearfully, they peered around the sides of the incubator, one on each side, as the creature came into full view.

By its markings, Alan recognized it as the alpha female. It had come down the stairs and now stood in the center of the room, tilting its head from side to side in a birdlike fashion as it observed the objects around it.

"What is it?" Reese asked again, his voice trembling with fear. “What the hell is it?”

Caskey was paralyzed with fear. "It looks like a dinosaur!" he replied. Realization dawned. "That island! That stupid fool landed us on that dinosaur island! Oh, hell! This is where they made them!"

"Shoot it!" Reese shouted.

Suddenly reminded that he had a weapon, Caskey stood up and raised the gun to his shoulder, preparing to fire.

Alan felt his heart lurch, regretfully. Only a few short months ago, he would have welcomed the demise of any or all of the raptors. He did not know what inspired his change of heart, but it suddenly seemed shameful to destroy such a magnificent creature.

The raptor recognized the gun as an instrument of death, and Alan watched with fascination as the animal lowered its head, as if resigned to its fate.

"Kill it!" Reese repeated when Caskey appeared frozen with fear.

Alan glanced at the gun in his hand, knowing that there was no way he could use it on another human being. Thrusting the pistol back in his pocket, he rushed from his hiding place and slammed into the man with the gun, shoving him roughly against his partner. Both of the strangers sprawled to the floor as the weapon discharged. The bullet slammed into the overhead light fixture, showering shards of glass down on the hatchery. The gun flew from Caskey’s hands, clattered to the floor, and skidded out of reach on the hard floor.

Reese screamed, thinking they were being attacked from behind by more dinosaurs. Launching himself from behind the incubator, he raced toward the stairs. He screamed again when he realized that he was in full view of the raptor, which stood still and watched him as he ran past.

Alan did not hang around to try to explain what he had just done. Dodging quickly around the fallen man, who was scrambling clumsily to his feet, he returned to the corridor, and pressed his body against the wall, concealing himself from the two men and, hopefully, from the raptor. He heard Caskey follow his companion as they noisily pounded up the steps, apparently intending to flee the building. Even though he knew the men’s’ actions meant certain death, he did not dare call out to them to stop, for it would give away his location to the raptor.

Alan waited, listening carefully, but he did not hear any indication that the raptor was pursuing the two men.

Leaning cautiously toward the door, he peered around the jamb.

The raptor was still in the hatchery, its head turned, watching the fleeing men as if unconcerned by their escape. Reese and Caskey reached the upper level and rushed into the snack room. Alan suspected they would not stop running until they were outside the building.

Lifting itself to its full height, the raptor barked a signal to the other raptors that were probably outside, waiting. Alan realized instinctively that it was sending the other raptors in pursuit of the two strangers. They were doomed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Then the raptor slowly stalked to the discarded rifle, and lowered its head, sniffing at the weapon. Peeling back its lips, it hissed angrily at the rifle. Alan watched, fascinated, as the animal seized the gun in its teeth, and with great force, slammed it against one of the incubators, splintering the wooden stock. It then tossed the useless weapon aside.

Amazing, he thought as he shrank back. Turning, he moved quietly back to Ellie and the child.
Ellie’s face, tense with worry, relaxed slightly when she saw him.

Sensing that she was about to speak, he raised a finger to his lips, urging her to maintain silence. "Sh," he whispered when he reached her. "There’s a raptor in the hatchery."

"What happened?" she whispered. "I heard a gunshot."

"I’ll tell you later," he whispered back.

Grasping Ellie’s hand again, he led the way back down the corridor, making his way back toward the rear door.

Daylight continued to advance, turning the inky black to gray, and the walls and objects were becoming more and more visible, allowing them to better see where they were going. Suddenly, through the building's shattered windows, the quiet was broken by the muffled screams of the two men who had foolishly and recklessly ran outside.

All three of them stopped and turned back toward the hatchery, listening to the dying screams of the two men. Alan exchanged knowing glances with Ellie, then they lowered their gaze to the child, who was crowded close to Ellie for comfort, clutching a fistful of the hem of her tee-shirt, and they knew that she understood as well.

Alan sighed. “Come on.”

At that moment, they heard a familiar noise, the telltale clicking of claws on the tile floor, approaching from behind.

Glancing over her shoulder, the child gasped suddenly, the quick intake of breath loud in the eerie silence of the abandoned building.

Alan and Ellie both glanced at her pale face and large frightened eyes. Behind them, they heard the snort of the velociraptor. Turning slowly, they saw the raptor standing no more than fifteen feet behind them, watching them curiously.

Alan’s hand immediately went to his pocket where he had placed the pistol, and to his horror, discovered that it was not there. “I must have dropped it in the hatchery!” he said. His eyes met and locked with Ellie’s, who had watched his hand go to the empty pocket, and understood that they were defenseless.

Ellie looked up the long corridor toward the door. “We have to make a run for it,” she said in a shaky voice. “We might make it.”

Alan looked up the corridor and gauged the distance with a sinking heart. “No, it’s too far. She’d be on us before we got halfway there,” he replied. He glanced at the raptor again. It continued to stand quietly, watching them. Looking around for an avenue of escape, he settled on a closed door behind Ellie. Brushing past her, he reached for the handle. “In here,” he said. “Maybe we can block the door long enough for us to get out a window.”

He opened the door and pushed Ellie and the child inside, then followed them in. He cast one final glance at the raptor, who continued to stand quietly, then closed the door and looked around for something to block it with. The room was completely empty without so much as a box to push in front of the door. Even worse, the ventilation window was too high and too small to squeeze through.

“Damn it,” he breathed as he looked up at the small window.

They heard the click as the door handle was pushed down from the other side, and they turned toward it as the door slowly drifted open. The raptor stood in the doorway, looking at them.

Alan knew they were out of options. He lowered his gaze to the floor and closed his eyes briefly, reaching a decision, the only decision he could make.

Ellie clutched his arm, desperately. "What are we going to do?" she asked, imploring him to come up with a plan to save them.

He gazed into her eyes, eyes that were filled with love and tears, and regretted having to inform her that he had no such plan. "Ellie, you’re going to have to be strong; stronger than you’ve ever been before."

"Oh, God," she whimpered. "What are you saying?"

He drew a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. Lowering his gaze, he glanced at the child, who looked very small and frightened as she leaned against Ellie, clutching the hem of the woman's shirt tightly in her petite fist. Making eye contact with Ellie again, he said, "I want you and the girl to stay in the corner behind me. When the raptor takes me, you both have to run as fast as you can. Don’t look back."

Tears spilled from her eyes and streamed down her face. "Alan, no!"

"We’re trapped, Ellie. We’re not all going to survive this. This is the only way. I‘ll try to hold it off long enough to give you a chance to escape."

“I can’t leave you like this!” she told him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t!”

“You have to.” He cradled her face in his hands, still gazing into her eyes. Her hands clutched at his wrists. "You told me you came here for a purpose. You saved my life before; now you have to save hers." He nodded toward the little girl, who seemed reluctant to separate herself from Ellie. "When you get to the dorm, lock the door and call Miguel. Have him send out a coast guard chopper that can land on the lawn." He looked into her eyes for a moment, then kissed her on the lips, a hard, passionate kiss, meant to last, but it was cut short by the sound of the raptor moving toward them. He pressed his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes, holding onto the moment for as long as he could. "I love you, Ellie," he said. "I love you more than anything on this earth. I was a fool not to tell you before."

She began to cry. The declaration of love that she had longed to hear for so many years had been spoken too late. The life she had envisioned with him was about to be cruelly yanked from her grasp. "I love you, too," she said, choking back her sobs. She placed her hand on the side of his face. "I always have."

His reassuring smile trembled, then he pushed her behind him, pressing her and the child into the corner as he watched the raptor advance.

The raptor stopped directly before him, and it turned its head from side to side to observe him out of each eye. Standing up on its toes and stretching its lithe body, it reached up with its muzzle and touched his face.

He flinched and stifled a groan of fearful anticipation, determined that he would not scream when the end came. He did not want Ellie’s last memory of him to be his screams. Grimacing, he turned his face away, waiting for the painful assault.

It sniffed at his face, nuzzling his cheek, and then a long tongue snaked out of its mouth to taste the salty sweat on his skin. Lowering its head to his chest, it rubbed its muzzle against the fabric of his shirt, curiously inspecting the alien material worn by humans, as if wondering what it was. Its nostrils dilated and contracted, taking in his scent.

Catching sight of the woman who peered over his shoulder, the raptor abruptly used its muzzle to shove him aside. He stumbled off balance, then steadied himself and stepped forward, protectively. "No!" he commanded.

The raptor snarled a warning directly into his face. Alan froze. The animal then extended its muzzle toward Ellie, subjecting her to the same scrutiny it had given the man.

Ellie closed her eyes tightly and endured the raptor’s inspection in silence, trembling with fear as Alan watched, helplessly.

“Is it playing with us?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “I’ve never seen a raptor behave like this.”

At that moment, they heard the distant call of another raptor, which attracted the attention of the female. It glanced over its shoulder at the door and barked an answer, so loud in the confined area of the room that the three humans covered their ears with their hands. Then it turned and strode back down the corridor, leaving the stunned humans to wonder what had just happened and why the raptor had allowed them to live.

Alan and Ellie were both breathing very hard in the aftermath of the most terrifying experience either had ever faced, and he pulled her into his arms for a long embrace. When he finally broke the embrace, he said what Ellie knew he would say:

“Wait here. I’m going to try to recover the pistol.”

"Forget it! You can get it later!" she insisted. "After they're gone."

"It'll be all right," he assured her.

His mind was made up, and she knew he would not be dissuaded. “Be careful!” she pleaded.

Leaving Ellie and the child in the room, he quietly retraced his steps down the corridor to the hatchery. As he peered around the edge of the boxes, he saw the raptor’s tail disappearing around the corner in the snack room, making its way back toward the entrance to rejoin its pack. He scanned the entire hatchery, looking for any other raptors that might have entered the building, but apparently the alpha female had been the only one to enter.

Deeming it safe for the moment, he lowered his eyes to the floor, searching for the fallen pistol. He found it almost immediately, near the spot where he had slammed into Caskey. In the commotion that had followed, he had neither felt it leave his pocket nor heard it fall to the floor.

Leaving the shelter of the boxes, he quickly scooped up the pistol, and made his way back down the corridor to where Ellie and the child were waiting, his mind working diligently on the mystery of why the raptor had allowed them to live. His research on raptor behavior had just become more complicated.