Chapter VII

            Ellie’s eyes flew open as she dodged the snap of a teeth-filled maw.

            Panting, feeling the sweat tickle her on its way down her body, Ellie gripped her wet blanket with one hand and ran her fingers through her damp hair with the other. She was sitting up in bed, looking around the room as if expecting to see one of them jump out from behind the dresser.

            When none did, she allowed herself to take a breath of relief. Another dream.

            They were getting worse.

            Ellie closed her eyes and allowed herself a few moments to catch her breath. The remnants of her nightmare echoed inside her and she unconsciously let out a frightened yelp.

            Do you remember what they sounded like?

            “Every night,” Ellie whispered to herself.

            “What about every night, mommy?”

            Ellie gasped.

            Charlie was standing in the doorway, a curious look pervading his round, innocent face. His questioning eyes seemed to dig a hole into hers and she found herself choking back a flood of tears.

            For a tiny, almost insignificant moment, she wished he was Alan’s. She instantly destroyed the very idea. It hurt too much.

            “Nothing, honey,” she said at last. “Mommy had a dream.”

            “A bad one?” Charlie padded across the bedroom floor and then jumped up onto the bed.

            Ellie embraced her son tightly. “Where’s your sister?”

            “She’s still asleep.”

            “And what are you doing awake?” she asked.

            “I heard you,” Charlie said as if it were obvious. “You were yelling and screaming, and I got scared for you.”

            Ellie’s blood ran cold. “I was screaming?”

            “Yup. You were yelling and screaming.”

            She had never discussed her dreams with her children. In fact, she had shielded them both from the events which had made her life the way it was. They had no knowledge of her involvement with Jurassic Park or the San Diego incident. It was better that way. Mark and Ellie had taken severe precaution, including placing them in a private school with the express desire that Jurassic Park not be mentioned in any way to Charlie and Katrina. There had been a few near-misses, like the time that her maiden name had been cited in a news report on Jurassic Park that the family happened to be watching. But the children, thankfully, were too young to figure that at one time their grandparents’ name was also Ellie’s. It had been the last time they had watched the news all together.

            It was with this in mind that Ellie asked her son, in as calm a voice as she could manage, “What words, honey?”

            “I couldn’t really hear,” the boy said thoughtfully, putting his finger to his chin. “There was a wall in the way, you know?”

            Ellie didn’t bother to hide her sigh of relief. “Yeah, that wall. I guess we’d better do something about it, huh?”

            “No, we shouldn’t,” Charlie said. He put his fists on his hips, like his mother sometimes did. “That wall’s there for a reason.”

            “Oh, yeah?” Ellie said, feeling the dream’s hold subside. “And what reason’s that?”

            Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t be there without a good reason.”

            Ellie laughed and hugged him tight again. “You’re right. It is there for a good reason. Now go get your sister up,” she continued with a sly smile. “You’re probably late for school.”

            “It’s Saturday, Mom,” Charlie said in a scolding manner.

            Ellie hit her forehead with her palm. “That’s right. I am so silly. Your mommy’s silly, isn’t she?”

            “She sure is,” Charlie said.

            “Well, jeez, I’m just out of it, aren’t I? Well, wake your sister up anyway so I can make you both breakfast.”

            “Yes, ma’am,” Charlie said proudly, now infused with an honorable purpose. He ran off down the hallway calling out his sister’s name as he went.

            Ellie lingered a bit on her bed, driving away the last residual images in her head. Then she tossed off the covers and stepped into her slippers.

            After she’d figured out where she could find Alan, Ellie had spent almost two hours on the couch, struggling with the question of whether or not to tell Mark of her discovery. Four years ago she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now…now, after being so long away from Alan’s handsomely weathered face, she wanted to see him alone, just him and her. There were so many things she needed to say, to confess, and they needed to be in private.

            She imagined him standing in the door of the old trailer, his eyes shedding tears, his arms opened for her embrace. She imagined herself, standing a few feet away, the sand pelting the legs of her jeans as she held her cap to keep it from flying away. She imagined jumping into his arms and allowing herself a moment of escape…a moment to kiss him and forget about the way her life had gone.

            But Mark had been there when she needed him. He’d been there when Alan needed him. He understood that Alan was a very important person in her life and that he was incapable of changing that. He’d never once expressed any form of jealousy when she spoke of her former lover. He would sit there and listen with quiet interest, commenting or asking a question every now and then. But he never judged her. He never accused her of still loving him.

            But he should have.

            Mark could help her find him. He could get her out there faster than anyone she knew. He would arrange all the travel details—plane tickets, taxis, that sort of thing—to streamline the process. Mark would even arrange for Alan and his things to be brought back to the house. (He had already told her that if need be Alan Grant would always be welcome to stay with the Degler family.)

            But this was something she felt she needed to do alone. For herself and for Alan. She would not leave Montana without him, but she would do it on her terms, not on Mark’s. Her husband’s only reason for doing this was to please her. He didn’t really know Alan all that well. She doubted Mark considered Alan his friend. There was not—and could not—be any real sentiment between them.

            Her reason was deeper. She had to help Alan. He was walking a thin line, a bridge that hung between the hell that had been created around him and the hell he created for himself. One day he would fall in. It was only a matter of time.

            Ellie felt that she would be the only one that could possibly bring him back to solid ground. Billy, his best friend, his student, his surrogate son, was dead. Hammond, a man she hated but whom Alan thought of as a paternal figure, too was dead.

            She was the only one left. The only one he trusted.

            In the end, Ellie had decided that she would do this on her own.

            As the children ate their scrambled eggs and drank down their juice, she snuck off to her room and closed the door. She sat down on the bed and dialed her publicists’ number.

            Dana picked up after the second ring. “Dana Lane, can I help you?”

            “Hey, Dana, it’s me.”

            “Oh, Ellie, good morning.” Dana yawned. “Maybe you’d like to be my early wake-up call from now on?”

            “Sorry for the hour, Dane. But it’s kind of important.”

            “How important? And why are we whispering?”

            “I don’t want my kids to hear,” Ellie replied. “They’re in the kitchen eating breakfast.”

            “Hmmm,” Dana hummed knowingly. “Jurassic Park.”

            “Sort of,” Ellie said. “Alan.”

            “Grant?” There was a pause. “The paleo-hottie you used to date? The one you spent the last few years trying to track down?”

            “The very one.”

            “What about him?”

            “I think I found him,” Ellie said conspiratorially. “I can’t prove it but somehow I just know it.”

            “You writers and your dramatics,” Dana said pseudo-sadly. “All right. So what do you want with me? Wait…you’re not thinking of writing a romance novel are you? Maybe I should go out there with you and help document this. You know romance novels make big money these—”

            “No, no, I just need you to get me out to Choteau. I want to be there and back before Monday.”

            “Damn. That’s far. I mean, I think it’s far. What the hell is Choteau?”

            “It’s an airport in Montana,” Ellie said tiredly.

            “Right. Got it,” Dana said. Ellie could hear her scribbling something. “Choteau. How do you spell that? Alright. But why not get Mark to do it? The best I’ll be able to manage on short notice is probably a second-class ticket on Southwest.”

            “That’s fine,” Ellie said.

            “What about Mark?”

            “Mark’s not going to know about this. Do you understand? He’s not to know where I’m off to.”

            Silence for a moment. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that, but who am I? I’m still single. Okay, so what’s the cover story?”

            “Last minute book signing?”

            “Your last book came out six months ago. And it wasn’t exactly a best-seller,” Dana grumbled.

            “You got something better?”

            “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do,” she said. “I have a friend out in Montana. Flathead County.”

            “That’s half the state away from Choteau,” Ellie remarked.

            “So what? Just say that you have to go to Montana because I asked you to go with me to see my friend, whose fortieth birthday is tomorrow.”

            “You think Mark’ll buy that?”

            “Honey,” Dana said, “Mark will buy anything you sell him. Anything. Which is why I’m wondering why he isn’t involved with this.”

            Ellie felt her heart tearing, but she pushed it out of her mind. “It’s not his fight.”

            Ellie said good-bye to Dana and hung up. A quick call to her mother took care of who the children were staying with while Mark was at work. A little talk with Charlie and Katrina had them sulking but at least they weren’t crying.

            The call she dreaded—the one where she had to lie to Mark—went smoothly, but not before he asked her if everything was okay. He’d noticed the crack in his voice just as readily as she had.

            “No, everything’s fine,” she stuttered. “But I’m not a big fan of airplanes is all.”

            “I thought you didn’t mind flying,” Mark said.

            “I don’t,” Ellie said quickly, “but I still don’t like doing it.”

            “Ah-ha,” Mark said. “Why didn’t Dana let me handle the arrangements?”

            “Oh, you know her. She wanted to do it by herself.”

            “That doesn’t sound like her at all.”

            Ellie forced a laugh. “I meant she was wishy-washy. Sometimes she wants someone else to do it, sometimes not. You know. Wishy-washy.”

            “Okay,” Mark said slowly. “You be careful, okay? And stay away from tequila. It makes your clothes fall off.”

            “All right, honey,” Ellie said. “I have to go. I have packing to do, okay?”

            “You do that, babe. Hey, while you’re in Montana, you should see if you can’t find your friend, Alan.”

            “Yeah,” Ellie said slowly. “I just might.”