The Flight Away
Disclaimer: Jurassic Park and its characters aren't mine.
Ian Malcolm pulled himself upright and winced at the sharp stab of pain protesting the movement. He looked up at the waiting helicopter, and shut his eyes. It wasn't far, the helicopter, that is, from the Jeep. Approximately 25 feet, perhaps. But it might as well have been miles. There was no way he could make it that far.
Soon the pain in his leg faded to the steady throbbing pain to which he was becoming accustomed.
"Ian? You okay?" Dr. Alan Grant asked, almost yelling to be heard over the roar of the helicopter's engine.
Ian thought he sounded a bit worried. The paleontologist probably didn't have to deal with many serious injuries at his dinosaur digs in Montana, let alone at his lab. Perhaps dehydration, or, occasionally, heat stroke. Probably the occasional scrapes and bruises and the like when people lost their footing.
"Ian! Can you hear me?" Alan asked.
Yeah, he definitely sounded worried. Ian opened his eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight. "I, uh, yeah," he said.
Alan nodded shortly and pulled the door open. "Good. The helicopter's here now. Come on. I'll give you a hand."
Ian took a deep breath and swung his good leg out through the door, and then, with Alan's help, the injured one. Ian gasped at the flare of pain the movement sent through his leg.
"Come on," Alan said impatiently.
Leaning heavily on the smaller man, Ian slowly hopped forward. The pain worsened with every hop until the world seemed to be nothing but pain. But he somehow kept moving forward.
After what seemed like an eternity, he vaguely heard someone shouting.
"W-what? What?" he muttered, opening his eyes. He didn't remember closing them.
"Come on, Ian! Get in!" Alan shouted. His voice seemed far away.
Ian blinked, trying without much success to bring the world into focus. The voices he was fairly certain were yelling at him blurred together into a hollow roar. Then everything went dark, and the world faded away.
Pain. That was the first thing Ian noticed when he came to. His whole body ached, and the pain in his leg was intense. The morphine must have worn off, he realized. Involuntarily, he moaned.
"Ian? You with us?" Ellie asked.
Ian forced his eyes open. Everything was still mostly a blur, but he could vaguely see the others seated in the helicopter. Somebody had propped his bad leg up on the seat across from him. Ian reached up and realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. He must have dropped them when the tyrannosaurus attacked. That explains why everything's blurry, he realized.
"Ian?" Ellie asked again.
"Yeah?" Ian asked vaguely.
"Are you okay?" she asked, speaking slowly and clearly, and loudly enough to be heard over the muffled throbbing roar of the helicopter's engine and rotors.
Ian blinked. "I … I guess so. In a way. But, uh … do you have any more of that … you know. Morphine?"
"Sorry. There isn't any more," Ellie said sympathetically.
Ian nodded. He sat back in his seat and looked out the window. He could see the ocean far below, and, above it, a flock of pelicans flying alongside the helicopter, matching its speed.
Back in the cabin, Alan sat across from Ian, one arm around each of the kids. Both kids were sound asleep, and Alan looked as calm as if he'd just spent the day at his dig, or university, or maybe at a natural history museum. The regular kind, where all the dinosaurs were fossils. Well, no. Actually, only a few of the dinosaurs were true fossils, Ian knew. The rest, including the impressive life-sized ones that grabbed everybody's attention, they weren't true fossils. They were replicas. Casts.
Ian remembered the first time he'd seen the dinosaurs at a museum, when he was three or four years old. His older brother, Ross, had been something of a dinosaur buff as a boy, and their mother had taken the two of them and a couple of Ross's friends to the Carnegie Museum of Natural History for Ross's birthday. It was a Saturday, and the museum was crowded. Ian hung back, holding tight to his mother's hand, while the older boys ran ahead. He hadn't noticed the dinosaurs at first. And then he'd looked up to see a tyrannosaurus skeleton towering over him. Terrified, he turned to run away, but another skeleton was behind him. The room was full of gigantic skeletons.
He'd had nightmares about those skeletons for years, and it was years before he went back to the museum. Not until after he read The Enormous Egg and decided it might be kind of interesting to see a Triceratops fossil. Which it certainly had been. He'd gone back from time to time since then, and he'd taken Kelly to the natural history museum near her home. But I'm not ever coming back to this place, he promised himself.
He'd been lucky, though, in a way. Running out in front of that tyrannosaurus with a flare in hand, yelling to get its attention, hadn't been the smartest thing he'd ever done. Ian wasn't sure why he was even still alive. But he was, and so were the kids, and so were Ellie and John and Alan.
Ian shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if Alan hadn't come up with the idea of using the flares in the first place. He had frozen when he saw the tyrannosaur break through the fence. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to, let alone figure out how to distract the dinosaur. But Alan could, and did. Someone had to protect the kids and bring them to safety; Alan was obviously the logical choice.
He had been right. As usual. The kids seemed fine. Tired, and a bit bedraggled, yes, but fine.
Ian found himself thinking about his own kids. He hoped they were okay. He knew Kelly was still doing gymnastics. She'd been taking lessons for almost three years now, since she was four.
Kelly loved it. She loved swinging around the bars, doing cartwheels on the balance beams, jumping on the trampoline, climbing up the rope all the way to the ceiling during the warm-ups before her lessons.
But every time he saw her practice, all he could think about was what could go wrong. What if the rope collapsed? Or she fell off the bars? Or what if one of the older students crashed into her during one of their floor routines, or on the trampoline? Ian knew she wished he would show more interest and support, but it was just too hard, watching her, sure something would happen, and trying not to let her see his worry lest it distract her in the midst of one of her routines.
Ian had talked with her a few days before he left for Jurassic Park, and she'd been fine, but what if something had happened since then?
And what about the boys? James, almost four now, was already as fearless as Kelly. He was always running around with his friends, climbing trees, and racing them on foot or on his tricycle. Anything could have happened to him, too. Or even to Andrei. Andrei was no risk-taker like his sister and his brother. He reminded Ian of himself as a boy, already, at five-and-a-half, significantly more interested in books and movies and chess than in dangerous physical games or sports. But something could have happened to him, too.
No. They're fine. They've got to be fine, Ian told himself fiercely. You can call from the hospital to make sure. And you'll see Kelly …next week! Oh, that's not going to work, he realized. Kelly was supposed to stay with him for the week, while she was on summer vacation and her mom was at a conference in New York. But he was pretty sure he wasn't going to make it. Again. He doubted he'd be out of the hospital by then. And then what? Kelly wasn't old enough to be home alone for a week! And how was he supposed to find a sitter, if he was stuck in a hospital in Costa Rica? Surely Kelly's mom wouldn't just leave her behind … would she? Surely she would find a sitter?
I'd better let her know. Make sure she's got time, Ian thought.
"I need to call them. I need a phone!" Ian said.
"Hey, take it easy," Alan spoke up.
Ian ignored him. "I'm supposed to … my daughter … she's supposed to stay with me next week, next Wednesday, and I – I don't know if … I need to call her mom so she can, you know, find somebody else. If I … if I can't make it…"
Alan and Ellie looked at each other. "You'll make it," Alan said.
Ian grimaced. "I don't just mean … I know there's a good chance I'll survive. But I doubt I'll be out of the hospital and on my feet in time."
"You won't be on your feet by next Wednesday," Alan said flatly.
"But maybe you can have a quiet visit at home," Ellie suggested.
Ian shook his head. "Yeah, I … well, that's not really … Kelly's kind of the active sort. She likes to, you know, go bike riding, and roller skating and, you know, do active stuff. She's not particularly interested in chess or puzzles or –"
"Ian. It'll be fine," Ellie interrupted. "You'll see your daughter. Maybe next week. If you can't make it back on time, you'll just talk with her on the phone, plan something for later."
"Yeah," Ian said. "I, uh, yeah. I suppose I can do that. And I'll … "
The helicopter dropped suddenly. The pain flared up in his leg, worse than ever. Ian bit his lip, hard, to keep from crying out.
The helicopter dropped further and settled in place.
"We're here," John Hammond announced.
"Thank God," Ian muttered. His leg was hurting worse than ever, and everything was starting to spin around him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "C-could you call? Kelly's mom 'n James 'n Andrei's mom?" he asked no one in particular.
"Yes, of course," John replied. "Do you have their numbers?"
Ian nodded, not opening his eyes. "Yeah. Got a book, an address book. In my … in my bag."
"I'll call them," John promised.
"Thank you," Ian said.
"You're welcome. Kids, we're here. Come on out."
"Okay," the little boy, Tim, spoke up.
"Thank you, Dr. Malcolm," the girl, Lex, said, hesitantly.
Ian opened his eyes. Lex stood in the doorway, looking at him solemnly. Ian realized Alan must have told her, and probably her brother, what he'd tried to do – without mentioning how stupid it had been, trying to distract a tyrannosaurus with nothing but a flare in hand.
He forced a smile. "Any time," he said blearily.
Lex nodded. "I hope your leg gets better soon," she said. Then she followed her brother out of the helicopter.
Yeah. Me too, Ian thought. He closed his eyes again.
It wasn't long before he heard distant voices, and felt himself lifted onto a gurney and rolled inside.
He thought of opening his eyes to see where exactly they were taking him, but it seemed too much effort. He just waited. Eventually, somebody poked a needle into his arm. An IV, he realized. Soon after, the pain started to fade.
It'll be fine, he told himself. The doctor, or surgeon, or somebody, they'll set my leg. I'll go home in a few days or a week or so. Kelly will understand if our visit has to be postponed a bit. She won't be happy about it, but she'll understand. She'll forgive me. Some day. And the boys; I'll call Rachel. She might not mind if I hang out with the boys for a few hours a week until I'm on my feet again. They don't live that far away.
Anything could happen; Ian knew that. But perhaps, whatever happened, things would work out.
Especially if he made sure he and Kelly and the boys stayed far, far away from dinosaurs.
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