Harding opened his door and jumped out of his seat. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked. The person, lying in the middle of the road, gave no answer.
Harding glanced back at Jess, who was still seated in the Jeep, her attention fixed forward. Harding told her to stay put, then began to walk forward. As he got nearer to the person, he began to make out some details. First: she was a woman. Costa Rican, judging by her skin tone. She had a slim physic and black hair, which was tightened into a bun on the back of her head. Seeing as she was lying on her stomach, Harding still couldn't tell if she was alive or not. Then he saw the wound. A ghastly, bloody gash on her right arm. Harding knelt down to better examine it. The skin was ripped and torn; it was possible she had fallen on something. But judging by the asymmetrical toothmarks imbedded in her skin, Harding had a feeling something much more serious had happened to her.
Carefully, he reached out and picked up her arm. Suddenly, the woman let out a cry and ripped her arm out of his grip. She was frantic, scrabbling at the dirt and trying desperately to get away from him. After he got over the initial shock, Harding began to try and reassure her: "Hey, hey, it's okay! It's okay! I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down!"
The woman ignored him and continued to scramble away, shouting in her native tongue. Harding stood up and ran after her, grabbing her left ankle. She screamed in absolute terror and kicked out madly with her right foot. The first couple of kicks missed by a mile, but the third connected with Harding's cheek. Pain erupted where her boot had connected with his face, and he let go of her to cup his cheek in his hands. The woman flipped back over onto her stomach and tried to crawl away.
Oh no you don't, Harding thought. Feeling an unexpected surge of anger, Harding ran after her and put his hands on her back, pinning her to the ground. She screamed maniacally and tried to punch him, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the ground above her head. He stuck his foot out and placed it on her abdomen, effectively trapping her. She struggled and screamed for about another half minute. With each passing second she grew more and more submissive and calm. Finally, with a final, desperate jerk, her head rolled to the side and she ceased moving altogether. Harding waited another half minute, just to make sure she wasn't psyching him out; when she did not move for those thirty seconds, he reluctantly let go of her wrists and removed his leg from her abdomen. She remained still. Harding pressed his forefingers to her neck, and was relieved to find a strong, if somewhat irregular, pulse. She was alive. Harding sat back and rested his hands on his knees, staring at this strange woman with a mixture of fear and intrigue.
The sound of a door opening and slamming closed drew his attention to the Jeep. Through the harsh glare of the headlights, Harding saw Jesse's form approaching him. "Is she alive?" she asked.
"Yes," Harding replied, getting to his feet.
Jess looked down at the woman. Her face was unreadable. "Who is she?" she asked.
"I don't know," Harding replied. "She doesn't look like she works here."
Jess pointed to the bad wound on her arm. "Did something bite her?"
"I don't... yes, I think so," Harding said, with some reluctance. He wanted to believe that something else could account for the woman's injury; but only a dinosaur could leave toothmarks like those.
"What bit her?" Jess asked.
"I'm not sure," Harding said.
Another rumble of thunder, louder this time, broke the eerie quiet. "Come on," Harding said. "We have to get her to the park. She won't survive out her on her own." He bent down and put both arms under the woman, one under her knees and one under her back. He stood and began to walk back to the Jeep. Jess offered support, but there was no need; Harding was a big man and could easily carry this small woman on his own.
"We'll put her in the back seat," Harding said. Carefully, he laid her down on the black cushions. She still didn't move. Harding checked her pulse one more time, just to make sure she was alive.
"Why do you think she went crazy like that?" Jess asked him as he climbed into the driver's seat.
Harding shook his head. "I don't know, Jesse, I don't know. But I hope to find out."
He started the engine once more, heard it roar to life. With a glance at the woman in the back seat, he turned his gaze to the road ahead and sped off into the gathering darkness.
