DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING
California
A flash of lightning illuminated the night sky followed by the distant crackle of thunder. The window in John Hammond's bedroom was opened causing the sheer curtains to billow against the frigid wind. The pelting rain began the drench the carpet, but Mr. Hammond didn't see to notice. The room was dark and the only light came from the dim glow of Mr. Hammond's computer.
PLEASE TYPE IN PASSWORD
Mr. Hammond's hands hovered above the keyboard, his blue eyes gazing at the simple command. He took a deep breath and typed in the password. Hundreds of files popped into the screen all properly categorized. All the information on dinosaurs that existed throughout the ages, from the Aardonyx to Zupaysaurus, were only a click away. As he glanced at the files he realized what he had to do. He placed his index finger on the delete button.
ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE?
A sudden knock came at the door startling Mr. Hammond. "Sir, may I come in?" the voice was from his assistant Peter. Mr. Hammond exited the page and swiveled his wheelchair to face the closed door.
"You may come in."
The door creaked open as Peter entered.
"Sir, why are all the lights closed? And…my goodness," declared Peter rushing to the open window ," the carpet in wet!"
"Oh, I didn't seem to notice." Replied Mr. Hammond. He let out a soft chuckle at Peter's attempt to close the window. Peter's thin frame was not suitable for closing such a strong window frame. However, he did manage to close it and the sounds of thunder were now muffled. He adjusted his shirt, which was know soaked, before making his way towards Mr. Hammond. In the process, he switched on the lights and the room was filled with a warm yellow glow.
"Sir, you must be more careful." Said Peter while pouring a glass of water from the jug placed on Mr. Hammond's nightstand. He handed his boss the glass and fished in his pockets for the daily pills. Mr. Hammond glanced at the white pills with disgust.
"Drink." Said Peter sternly. Mr. Hammond reached for the pills and consumed them with one gulp. He hated the pills, but they helped with the pain.
"Would you like me to move you to the bed?" asked Peter placing his hands on Mr. Hammond's wheelchair handles.
"No, thank you Peter." Said Mr. Hammond hastily.
Peter arched his eyebrows. For the eight years that Peter worked with Mr. Hammond he could never recall a day when his boss would not be in bed by 10:00.
"Are you alright sir?"
Mr. Hammond was quite for a second before answering. "The cancer is spreading Peter. I might not have that long before I depart this world." He replied averting his eyes from Peter.
"please sir," said Peter, "do not give up hope."
At that remark Mr. Hammond looked up.
"Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul;
And sings the tune without words
And never stops at all."
"The words of Emily Dickinson" replied Peter remembering the quote. Mr. Hammond grinned, "Very good my boy."
A sudden burst of pain went through Mr. Hammond's body causing him to wince in agony.
"Sir!" yelled Peter rushing to his side.
"I'm…alright." Whispered Mr. Hammond whose eyes were shut and jaw set.
"I will call 911." Said Peter taking out his cell phone.
Mr. Hammond made a grab at Peter's wrist.
"It was nothing, there is no need to call the medics."
"There must be something I can do." Answered Peter fully aware of Dr. Hammond's discomfort.
"Get me vicodin."
Peter ran out of the room and arrived moments later with the vicodin.
"We were almost out, thank goodness we had some left."
Dr. Hammond took the medicine and waited for the pain to seize. Slowly the pain began to drift away, and he opened his eyes to see a nervous Peter facing him.
"It is ok Peter."
Peter sighed with relief as he heard the reassuring words.
"I would like to be alone now."
Peter's anxiety shot back up.
"No Sir-."
"Please, I am fine." Said Mr. Hammond.
Peter didn't know what to do but decided not to agitate him.
"Very well sir, I will go to the drugstore and get more vicodin. Please contact me if you have any problems."
Mr. Hammond merely nodded his head as Peter closed the door behind him. When he was out of sight, Mr. Hammond brought back the computer page. Once again he hit the delete button. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE? Was he sure. His whole life's work would be destroyed. He remembered the early days at Jurassic Park when he would feed the baby giraffatitans. Their long graceful necks towering above him. It was his grandson's favorite dinosaur.
Tim
Tim and Lex were at Jurassic Park. His brain was filled with the memories of his precious grandchildren cowering in terror as countless raptors and other carnivorous dinosaurs tried to capture them. The animals he had created nearly but an end to the people he loved. With a new surge of determination he brought his cursor to YES.
The door began to creak open.
Mr. Hammond began to become very annoyed with his assistant. He was to engrossed at the computer screen to hear the silent footsteps of the person behind him.
He began to feel a presence behind him. "Peter, I told you I was fine." Remarked Mr. Hammond to the person.
He felt an object brush against the back of his head.
"Peter's not here right now." Said a gruff voice from behind him. Mr. Hammond could faintly see the outline a man in a black mask pointing a gun to his head.
"What are you doing here?" asked Mr. Hammond said calm and composed.
"Just making sure you don't push the delete button."
"You don't have to do this." Said Mr. Hammond.
"Sorry Mr. Hammond, but orders are orders." Replied the man placing his free hand on Mr. Hammond's shoulder.
"And if I don't comply?"
The stranger shoved the gun point harder at Mr. Hammond's head.
He crouched down and whispered into the Mr. Hammond's ear.
"It's not going to look pretty."
Before the man could react Mr. Hammond quickly clicked the YES button. The files began to delete in a rapid pace until there was nothing left.
"You fool," yelled the stranger ,"do you realize what you have done?"
Mr. Hammond remained calm and spoke in a defined voice. "I will not let anyone get hurt for my mistakes. Jurassic Park will end."
The stranger was silent.
"We will see."
Outside the wind and rain was still pouring down. No one was able to hear the gunshot that came from the house.
Moments later the man came outside the mansion and began walking down the street. He dialed a number on the cell phone.
"Did you get it?" asked the recipient on the other side.
"No Sir, we will have to move on the Plan B." he replied.
The man on the other end of the line hung up. The man didn't notice the bystander that was coming his way. The two men collided with force.
"Oh dear, I am terribly sorry." Replied the bystander.
The man recognized the voice came from Mr. Hammond's assistant Peter.
The man picked up the Peter's bag from the sidewalk.
"Don't worry about" he said handing back the bag and smiling. He continued to walk on until Peter was out of sight. He came upon a trashcan and looked around to make sure no one was there. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the gun. As thunder continued to crackle above the night sky, the stranger dumped the murder weapon into the trashcan. Next to the moldy bananas and garbage the tool that killed iconic John Hammond laid in silence….