Chapter Four
Robert ducked underneath the metal-roll up door into Eddie's workshop, Sarah following behind. It was quiet now, with most of the workers gone, and the trailers looked finished. He glanced up at the office on the mezzanine level and saw Eddie hurrying down the stairs, his face strained. Behind him two kids, a boy and a girl, had their faces pressed up against the glass of his office window. "What's going on?" Robert demanded.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I've been trying to get in touch with Dr Levine for a while now, to let him know we're pretty much done. His maid picked up this morning, said she hasn't seen him in a few days, and none of the food she's cooked for him has been touched." Eddie hesitated, looking miserable. "Rob, he took one of my packs a few days ago, satellite phone too. I thought he just wanted to check it over, try it out, but–"
"Damn it!" Robert turned away, jaw clenched in fury. "He wouldn't have... Even Levine wouldn't have been so stupid as to go out there on his own." He looked at Sarah, found her expression equally grim.
"Ego," she said. "He wants to be there first."
Robert rubbed his forehead. The headache he'd woken up with had sharpened to a pounding throughout his skull. He'd taken some painkillers, but they barely seemed to be making a dent. "You said he's got a satellite phone?"
"Yeah." Eddie held up a small handset of his own. "I've tried him a couple of times but no one picked up and I didn't want to drain the battery."
"Try it again."
Eddie nodded, dialled the number. And as the three of them waited, Sarah stared up at the office. "Who are the kids, Eddie?"
"Oh, uh..." He glanced up. "Grace and Mark, my sister's kids. She's been having some problems with her boyfriend, I said I'd look after them for a while, give them a chance to work things out." The girl waved. Sarah waved back. Robert folded his arms, frowning.
The phone connected, ringing. No answer. "Could his handset be broken?" Robert asked.
Eddie shook his head. "It's connecting, so probably not."
"What about tracing the call?" Sarah asked.
"What's the point?" Robert said. "We know where the bloody fool is."
"Not for sure. He might have just gone out into the field," Eddie said, his voice plaintive. Then he sighed. "Son of a bitch. The battery's gonna drain soon, guys. I'm gonna have to–"
There was a click. "Hello?" Levine's voice said.
Eddie sagged. "Oh, thank God." He pushed the button on his handset. "Dr Levine, it's me. It's Eddie. Hey, we're worried about you–"
"Hello? This is Levine. Who's there?"
Eddie rolled his eyes. "Oh for the love of... Dr Levine, you have to press the 'T' button to transmit."
"Hello? I can't hear you. Hello?"
"I thought he was supposed to be a genius," Robert said.
Sarah snorted, and shot him a brief grin, then her expression darkened as Levine continued, "If you can hear me, please. I need help. I'm on Isla Sorna." Robert growled softly under his breath, felt Sarah's hand on his arm, gently steadying. "Hammond was right. He was telling the truth, but–"
The phone crackled, a loud staticky hiss drowning out his words. "Damn it," Eddie muttered, his eyes wide and worried. "His battery's going."
"–The guide was...need help...like they're everywhere and..."
With a final burst of static, the phone went dead. The three of them stood staring at each other for a long few moments. Then Robert swung away. He paced the room, his headache momentarily forgotten. He should have known, he thought. Should have known he couldn't trust Levine.
The bastard. The stupid, stupid bastard.
He swung around, saw they were both watching him. He stared at them, no words coming to mind. All he could think was how angry he was, how furious at Levine, his rage so intense he could almost taste it, and beneath it the sick stink of fear. He felt cold sweat on his back between his shoulder blades. Levine was out there dying, and these two idiots–
No, that wasn't fair, because neither of them were idiots. But Eddie was totally unprepared for this, and Sarah... Well, she might know animals but that almost made things worse; she was overconfident, thought she knew it all. He'd been the same way, and it had almost got him killed. It had been pure luck he'd survived.
"We go today," he said. Sarah didn't react; she looked as if she was expecting this, but Eddie's eyes widened.
"We still need to field test everything, Rob. Remember what I said about cutting edge technology being untested?" There was a high nervous edge to the man's voice.
"There's no time for a field test." He nodded to the phone. "You heard Levine. He's in trouble. Do we have our exit papers?"
"Yeah, we've had them for the last couple of weeks, but..." Eddie stared at the satellite phone in his hand as if thinking about Dr Levine, the terror in his voice. Robert wanted to say something, to tell him there was still time to back out, but his own breath seemed to catching in his throat. His heart rattled against his ribs. Just one drink, he thought, to steady his nerves. To lend him courage.
He drew in a shaky breath, curling his hands into fists. It took him a moment before he could trust his voice to stay steady. "Call them. Arrange the boat transfer to the island. I want them to be ready to leave in four hours."
Eddie stared at him. "But–"
Robert moved towards him and placed his hands on Eddie's shoulders. "Listen to me, Eddie. You do not have to come." He glanced at Sarah. "And that goes for you too."
"I'm coming," she said. There was the slightest bleariness of a hangover in her face, but her expression was intent. Robert met her gaze, and knew that no amount of arguing would be able to change her mind.
"This isn't a research mission any more," he said. "You've got Dr Levine to thank for that. I mean it, Eddie."
Eddie swallowed, gave a sickly smile. "I'm not letting you go out there alone with untested equipment, Robert. I'm going." His smile faded, leaving a miserable downturn to his mouth.
"I'll call Nick," Sarah said, turning away to the stairs. "Give him the four-minute warning."
Robert nodded, and climbed up the steps into the trailer. The heavy door gave a sense of reassurance he was sure would turn out to be false. Inside, there was a compact living area and a small galley kitchen with built-in appliances – a microwave, and a gleaming coffee-machine, all glass and chrome. He moved through the accordion passageway into the second trailer, which Levine had kitted out as a mobile laboratory. He unlocked one of the storage units set into the wall, and pulled out a metal case. A pair of Lindstradt air rifles were nestled inside. He ran his hand over the dark, anodised metal, and pulled one of the rifles out of the case, testing its weight. It was heavier than he was expecting, with a solidity that offered a sense of comfort. Still his chest tightened. He snapped open the cartridge bank, saw a row of clear cartridges, each filled with pale yellow liquid and tipped with a needle. He closed the cartridge bank, heard a soft tread behind him. He didn't look around.
"Nick's on his way," Sarah said.
He didn't answer, just gave a curt nod.
"So you are coming then," she said.
A rush of heat ran over his skin. He turned slowly, rifle gripped in his hands, pointed safely at the floor. "Looks like it," he said, his voice neutral. She was standing in the accordion passage to the other trailer, her arms folded. Her gaze rested on his face, studying his features with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.
She nodded to the rifle. "What are you going to use that on? The dinosaurs or Richard Levine?"
He didn't smile. "Well, if I was Levine," he said, "I'd be very worried right now."
There was a few moments of silence. She continued to watch him. Robert's hands tightened on the gun, then he deliberately turned his back on her to replace the gun in the metal case. His fingers lingered on the cool metal before he snapped the case closed.
Sarah came up behind him. "You know we'll be okay, right?" she said, her voice soft. "Richard too. He's smarter than he acts sometimes. And he's tougher than he looks."
He didn't answer. He slid the case back into the drawer, wondering if seeing the guns had helped. Wasn't like they'd done him much good on Isla Nublar.
Back outside, Eddie was waiting, his expression anxious and unhappy. He nodded at Robert, as if to say all done.
Oh God, Robert thought. What the bloody hell am I doing?
He wished suddenly he was home, that he'd never been so stupid as to pick up the phone and call Hammond. What the hell had he been thinking?
There was still time to back out. All he had to do was call a cab and head straight for the airport, catch the first flight back to England. It didn't even need to be England. Anywhere would do, just so long as it was away from here and Costa Rica.
"All done, Rob," Eddie called out.
He nodded, and suddenly a wave of exhaustion washed over him. How long had it been since he'd got a decent night's sleep? Not last night; he'd had too much alcohol to sleep well. He hadn't dreamt; there'd been no jungle, no amber eyes, no teeth and claws, no sleek red tiger-striped backs moving through the shadows, but his sleep had been broken and fitful, and his reflection in the bathroom mirror in the morning had been hollow-eyed.
It was a nice idea, thinking he could still escape. But that was all it was. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let these people go out there alone. He could barely live with himself now, after Jophery, after Ian Malcolm and Genarro and everyone else who had died, and he'd done everything he could to save them, and still he wondered if he could have done more.
"Okay." He took a breath, waited until he could speak without a tremor in his voice. "If there's anything you need to bring, I suggest you get it. Last chance." As they nodded, he glanced up to the window to Eddie's office, where his nephew and niece had their faces pressed up against the glass. "And for God's sake, make sure you search the trailers before we leave. The last thing we need is a couple of bloody stowaways."
Nick van Owen turned out to be a tall stocky man in his mid-twenties, tougher looking than Robert had been expecting. He turned up in a white van, looking irritated and complaining, but his gaze was steady as Eddie introduced them. "Nick van Owen, Robert Muldoon. Nick's our photographer."
"What's your background?" Robert asked. "Wildlife photography?"
Nick was busy unloading the van of photography equipment. "Wildlife, combat, you name it. When I was with Nightline I was in Rwanda, Chechnya, all over Bosnia. And I volunteer for Greenpeace once in a while."
"Why Greenpeace?" Robert asked.
A moment's pause. Nick paused, and stared up at him, his gaze assessing, "Women mainly. It's about eighty percent female, Greenpeace."
"Noble, isn't he?" Sarah said, laughing.
"Yeah, well, this time I'm actually getting paid," Nick said. "God bless rich capitalists everywhere." The items he was unloading had changed, no longer photography equipment, but a selection of tools, a crowbar, various kinds of bolt cutters. Robert's gaze lingered on them.
"You come prepared," he said thoughtfully.
Nick paused again. There was a kind of stillness to him. Only his jaw moved, working around the lump of chewing gum in his mouth. "Always."
Ahead of the boat the fog was thick, hanging over the sea like a blanket. From the distant booming of the waves crashing against cliffs, Robert could hear they were drawing closer to the island. He leaned on the side of the boat, staring down at the choppy water. His headache had eased off slightly, retreating to a dull throb at the back of his skull, but the low-grade nausea still lingered, and the lurching movements of the boat wasn't helping. His shoulder muscles were tense, and his hands itching for the weight of the Lindstradt. Well, that or a glass of whisky. Maybe both.
Behind him, Sarah was lecturing Nick and Eddie about safety around the animals on the island. "No scent of any kind. No hair tonic, no cologne, no insect repellent. And we seal all our food in plastic bags." Nick looked bored, clearly not taking any of this seriously, but he wasn't a stupid man; he was still listening, taking it all in. Eddie just looked green with seasickness. He'd already thrown up twice.
Something loomed out of the the fog, something floating on the surface of the water. A large yellow buoy, the water capped with white around it. Robert frowned, staring at it, a chill feeling on his skin.
And then the captain yelled something to them in Spanish. And Robert saw the dark cliffs of Isla Sorna rising out of the fog ahead, ghostly at first, but solidifying as the boat drew closer, waves crashing up against the rocks in a surge of spray. He tasted salt, licked his lips with his parched tongue.
Sarah broke off her lecture to join him, her hands resting on the side to the boat. They all turned to look towards the bow, as the sheer cliffs of volcanic rock took on form on either side of them and the captain steered them through a narrow inlet cutting through the steep cliffs, leading to a lagoon in the interior of the island.
The captain came closer, his arm around the narrow shoulders of his young son. The boy looked frightened, but was scowling a little, as if he wanted to shake off his father's arm, but wasn't quite brave enough to do so. The captain said something emphatically in Spanish to Robert, and Nick frowned.
"He says he'll anchor a few miles off shore. He won't stay here," he said. He said something to the captain who nodded, casting a nervous glance at the water. He said something else and Nick translated. "He says he's heard many stories about these islands."
"What kind of stories?" Sarah asked as the captain continued to talk. For the first time she seemed uncomfortable, her arms folded across her chest.
"Stories about fishermen who come too close to the island, and never return," Nick said, his voice tense.
Robert frowned. "They came onto the island itself?" he asked. Nick spoke in Spanish, and the captain shot him a strange look, and shook his head, muttered something.
"He says no one would be stupid enough to come to this island," Nick translated. "It's not the island. They..." He hesitated, as he listened to a string of emphatic Spanish. The boy no longer looked angry, but pale and frightened, and he pressed against his father's side.
"Hay monstruos en el agua," the captain finished.
"He says there's something in the water." And for the first time Nick looked unsettled.
The captain met Robert's gaze with a defiant glare as if he expected Robert to protest.
Instead he nodded. "Tell him I don't blame him. We'll unload and then he can get himself and his boy well away from here." And the captain, who either understood English better than he pretended or understand Robert's tone, nodded,
As they unloaded everything onto the beach, the captain watched them as if they were madmen, then he was gone, hurrying to the cabin of the boat as quickly as he could. Eddie set to unpacking the stuff with Nick's help. Robert skirted the jungle with one of the rifles slung over his shoulder. He knelt to examine footprints in the sand at the edge of the beach, the bird-like three-toed tracks he recognised as having been made by compys. The lush thick undergrowth at the edge of the jungle sent a shuddering sensation up his back.
Sarah came up behind him. "'Something in the water,'" she said softly. "Do you know what he was talking about, Robert?"
His gaze focused on the undergrowth, searching for any sign of movement. Nothing's there, he told himself. Nothing's watching. Slowly, he stood up. "I'm not sure," he said. "It could be nothing. Ghost stories put about to scare people away. To stop looters. The Costa Rican government wanted to keep people away from these islands. Or..."
"Or?"
He turned towards her. "Or it could be a tyrannosaur."
Her face paled. "Tyrannosaurs can swim?"
He didn't smile, not quite. "Like crocodiles. Giant massive bloody crocodiles."
"Jesus," Eddie said. He'd stopped to listen, his eyes wide.
"Or it could be something else entirely." He frowned. "A Cearadactyl, perhaps."
"A what?" Nick asked.
"'Cearadactylus'," Sarah said. "It's like a pterodactyl but much, much bigger."
"You got those?"
Robert nodded. "And they were vicious. Highly territorial. Injured quite a few of the workers who were working on the aviary on Isla Nublar. Imagine thirty pounds of winged reptile bombing down towards you at full speed. One of those could take out the crew of a fishing boat." He paused, gaze lingering on the water, on the thick drifting fog. "But they wouldn't damage the boat itself."
"So maybe you were right the first time," Eddie said, although he was scanning the sky nervously. "We had a hell of a time getting a permit for the islands. They didn't want people coming here, that's for damn sure. Maybe it's just a scare story."
"It's possible." Dear God, he hoped so.
When Eddie had finished setting up the trailers he climbed behind the wheel of the Explorer. Sarah slipped into the passenger seat and Robert leaned in beside her, studying the monitor as Eddie slipped a disk inside the slot and brought up an outline of the island. He waited impatiently, as the image was gradually built up with data from various different satellites, gradually filling in the outline of the road system that networked the island.
"Any sign of Levine?" Robert asked.
"Give it a minute," Eddie said. A marker appeared on the map near the edge of the island. "That's us." Nothing more happened, and Eddie waited for a couple of minutes, fingers drumming on the wheel.
"What about Richard?" Sarah asked softly.
Before Eddie could answer there was a trilling sound out in the jungle, and he looked around nervously. "Was that a bird?"
"No," Robert said shortly. Eddie flashed him a nervous look. "Just compys, Eddie. Nothing to worry about. They're scavengers, mainly feed on carrion, dinosaur droppings and wounded animals."
"About the size of chickens," Sarah said.
"Right. Okay then." Eddie swallowed. "Nothing to worry about. Glad I'm not a wounded animal." He paused. "Did I mention I'm scared shitless of chickens?"
"What about Levine?" Robert asked. "His marker still hasn't come up."
"No. Son of a bitch." Eddie sighed. "Untested equipment. We might have to give it a minute. His location sensor could just have a weak signal, or it could be damaged or he's somewhere where he can't get a signal."
"So what do we do now?" Sarah asked.
Robert pointed to the map, following the road with his finger. "We stick to the original plan. Take the ridge road north and find somewhere to set up camp. We fixed on a couple of spots overlooking the plain. Somewhere quiet, out of the way, off the beaten track. It's the safest place to be."
"Sounds like a plan," Eddie said. He climbed out of the Explorer. "I guess I'll take the trailer. Rob, you wanna do the honours with the Explorer?"
"Shouldn't we look for Dr Levine?" Nick asked, as Robert moved around to the other side of the Explorer. "He's the guy who's paying our wages, right?"
Robert glanced at him. "Let's worry about ourselves first, Nick."
"You don't think we're safe here?"
"On this island? We're not safe anywhere."
They took the road out from the beach, the tarmac pitted and potholed. The Explorer's engine was quiet, almost eerily silent with the loudest sound Sarah's breathing beside him. The thick jungle seemed to press in on all sides, and a thin layer of sweat formed on his skin. Reality had taken on on the same hazy quality as a dream; none of this seemed entirely real. Bird calls that he knew were not bird calls sounded out in the jungle, and once he saw a brief flash of green in the road ahead as something small and bright vanished into the jungle. There was a sharp intake of breath from Sarah, and he darted a glance at her. Her eyes were bright and wide, filled with excitement.
The trailers followed behind, easing along the steeply climbing road. Once the jungle hemming them in on the right hand side opened away to a sudden plunging drop that made his stomach do a slow lurching roll. Down below there was more jungle fringing stark jagged rocks, and Robert drove on, eyeing the trailers uneasily in the rear view mirror, hoping Eddie could handle the turns. And then the jungle closed in again and the air pressed tight around him.
At least it wasn't raining. There was that at least. And he had the rifle on the back seat. But still his throat seemed to close up as he wondered where the t-Rex was at that precise moment. Whether he'd take the next bend and see it in the road ahead waiting for him.
Which was madness, but even so his heart took on a rapid pace as he took the next bend and a sudden bleeping from the monitor made him start. "What the hell is that?"
Sarah leaned forwards, studying the monitor. "I think it's Levine," she said. He darted a look, saw a small marker somewhere inland to the east of the island, where a few of the roads intersected by some squarish outlines that might have been buildings. He pictured the map of the island in his head. "That's the workers' village," he said.
Eddie's voice came on the radio, "Hey, Rob, you seeing this?"
"Yeah, we've seen him."
And then the road opened out onto a clearing, and the sun was beating down on the Explorer once more. Robert stopped the Explorer and killed the engine, keeping the monitor on, as Eddie drove out, vines brushing against the roof of the trailers. He eased them past the Explorer, and Robert frowned. On the monitor, Levine had vanished again. "Damn it," he muttered. "He's–"
Sarah wasn't listening. Her breathing quickened, and suddenly she had flung the door open and was climbing out of the car. She jumped down onto the grass and moved around the front of the Explorer.
"Bloody hell. Sarah!"
He snatched the rifle from the back seat and scrambled out after her, heart hammering, but it took him a moment or two to realise there was no danger. She was moving to the edge of the ridge, staring out over the valley below with an expression of astonishment. A river wound through a grassy plain, and a herd of about fifteen hadrosaurs grazed in the thick grass, one lifting its head to watch for predators. Further across the valley, a family group of brachiosaurs lowered their long necks to drink at the river's edge.
"Robert," she said, and then it was as if she couldn't think of anything to say so instead, she stared at him, her expression filled with such surprise that he almost laughed. For the first time the terror that clamped around his chest so hard he could barely breathe started to ease. "They're beautiful," she said. "I didn't think they'd be so beautiful."
Robert's lips twisted. He could have told her that.
But what he hadn't expected was to feel a trace of that wonder himself. He never would have thought it possible, and maybe he wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for her, for the way her eyes were shining and how the sunlight seemed to burnish her hair like copper.
He hadn't wanted to get caught up in the wonder of this place again, but he could still feel it coiling through him, even after everything that had happened. And when she gave a shaken laugh, and turned back to stare out at the valley, he thought that maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a few moments just to enjoy the sight. He leant back against the bonnet of the Explorer, watching her watch the dinosaurs in the valley below.
"We need to get Richard," she murmured. "We should really..." And then she trailed off again as Nick and Eddie joined them.
Nick muttered, "Holy fucking shit," under his breath.
Eddie gave a soft disbelieving snort, ran his hand over his hair. "They're really real," he said. "I mean... Jesus, they're real."
"You didn't think they would be?" Robert asked.
"I..." Eddie paused, chewing on the inside of his lip. "I mean it wasn't like I thought you or Hammond were lying, but... Actually, scratch that, I totally thought you were lying. But, son of a bitch, those are actual honest to God freaking dinosaurs down there. Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch."
And they stood for a few moments entranced. Eventually, it was Robert who pushed himself away from the Explorer. He loaded the Explorer with a selection of weapons, including a box of spare cartridges for the Lindstradt rifle, and one of the Cholinesterase bombs, along with a pair of gas masks. And it still didn't feel like enough. He closed the boot and rested his hands on the sun-warmed metal until his breathing had calmed and his heart had slowed down enough that he could speak without his voice shaking. "Eddie, I'm going to find Levine."
Sarah glanced at him sharply. "Not alone," she said, with a note in her voice as if she expected him to argue.
Instead he nodded, glanced at Eddie. "Do you think you and Nick can handle setting up camp on your own?"
"Uh..." Eddie stared down at the valley, then shook himself. "Yeah. Right." He turned back around. His wonder had drained away a little at the prospect of being left alone. "Yeah, we'll be fine."
"Any problems," Robert said, "you get in the trailers and you lock the door."
"Jeez, you don't need to tell me twice." Eddie glanced back at the dinosaurs and nudged Robert. "Hey, any of those carnivores?"
Robert shook his head. "Not that I can see," he said. "But that's a game trail. They won't be far away."
"You think we'll see a t-Rex?" Nick asked, his voice distant.
Robert sighed. "I have a horrible feeling that the answer to that is going to be 'yes'."
Robert and Sarah left Eddie setting up the high hide, and Nick using a video camera to tape the herds in the valley below, muttering something about how awesome it would be to capture a kill on camera. It probably wouldn't be long before he got his wish.
As he drove back down the ridge road, the tension was building again. He was driving too fast, and made a deliberate effort to slow down, easing his foot off the accelerator. The magic of the valley was already slipping away, because he was doing what they swore they would not do, venturing away from the safety of the ridge and head inland.
When he found Levine he was going to throttle the son of a bitch.
As the road flattened out, he took the corner too fast, saw a fraction too late that the road ahead filled was filled with dinosaurs. "Shit!" He slammed on the brakes, and the Explorer juddered to an emergency stop.
There were gaps in the jungle on either side, and a string of stegosaurs were lumbering across the road, a mixture of adults and babies, swinging their heads to study the Explorer with disinterest.
Sarah laughed, her eyes bright and disbelieving. "Dinosaurs crossing," she said, grinning at him. "They should put up a sign."
He thumped his hand impatiently against the wheel, thinking it was like a herd of sheep loose in the road back in the village where he lived. Except this was several tons worth of sheep, taking their time and quite capable of smashing the Explorer to bits if they wanted to. The stegos weren't any real danger, but he hated being held up like this. God only knew what might be coming up behind them. The thought made the back of his neck itch in discomfort. "Come on, come on," he muttered.
"Beep the horn at them," she suggested.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why do I get the feeling you're not taking this seriously, Dr Harding?"
"I am, I swear," she said. "It's just..." She gestured at the animals in the road, and the grin was back. "Those are dinosaurs, Robert. Dinosaurs. Look at them. Look at the way they've gathered around the baby to protect it." She pressed her hand against her mouth. "Can I get closer? How dangerous are they?"
"Stegos are generally pretty docile," he admitted. "But we don't know what else is out there. And we're supposed to be rescuing Dr Levine, remember?"
She stared out of the window with wonder in her eyes. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind," she said, sounding faintly wistful.
"I'm positive he wouldn't," he said.
"You think so?"
"Of course not." And when she glanced at him, he added, "The bastard's probably dead."
She snorted. And finally the last straggler crossed the road, the last sight of it its four-spiked tail swinging after it. "About bloody time," Robert muttered, starting the car again. His tension eased a little when they were moving on again, following the road that wound towards the worker's village. Occasionally, through breaks in the jungle, they caught glimpses of other parts of the island, a field below filled with long grass, and elsewhere a vast sprawling building in the distance the size of several aircraft hangers, and then they were lost in the jungle again.
The workers' village had been a fenced compound, surrounded by a high electrified chain link fence, but the fencing had come down in sections and there was no longer power. At the gate, he stopped the car, and started to get out, but Sarah placed her hand on his arm.
"I'll open the gates," she said.
"Sarah–"
"Would you stop with the chauvinistic bullshit, Robert? I can take care of myself."
He gave a terse nod, and watched, his hands tight around the steering wheel as she crossed in front of the Explorer. He looked around, his gaze shifting from the jungle, to the low buildings inside the gate, searching for any sign of movement. He could feel the itching sensation of being watched, but he knew it was probably his imagination.
She shoved the gate open, and he drove through, waited while she pulled the gate shut again. They closed with a loud metallic clang that made him wince. Judging by how quickly she hurried back to the Explorer, she wasn't feeling entirely comfortable herself. She climbed back in, smelling faintly of fresh sweat, a smell which was, he thought, not entirely unpleasant.
The workers' village consisted of about thirty or so buildings, with once carefully maintained and landscaped gardens that were now overgrown tangles. They drove past a single-storey convenience store with a flat roof and petrol pumps standing like sentinels outside, and several tennis courts with vines entwined around the chain link fence.
Robert found the whole place eerily familiar. It had been built along the same lines and architectural designs as the staff village on Isla Nublar. He had lived in a small but spacious one-bedroomed house very much like one of these: built of pale stone, and with thick walls and arrow-slit windows which had always made him feel as if he was living in a modernised medieval castle.
Only now the buildings had all been abandoned, and the flowerbeds which had once been filled with abundant flowers had gone to seed. With the desolation, the lack of vehicles, and the constant humidity and heat, it was disconcerting.
Finding nothing, they circled back and parked outside the store. Robert tapped the monitor, frowning. "Levine's signal hasn't reappeared."
"Guess we'll have to get out and look for him," Sarah said. She scanned the streets, her eyes apprehensive. "You think there are dinosaurs here?"
"I'm sure of it," he said, his voice low, serious.
Sarah glanced at him with a teasing smile, the corners of her eyes creased. "Alarmist."
"Come on." He reached for the rifle and climbed out. It took her a moment, but she followed. He pulled out the pack from the back of the Explorer, and they moved towards the shop, past the petrol pumps. The door opened inwards, but only part way – a table had been wedged against it to stop it opening completely. "Levine was here. He tried to barricade himself in."
"Against what?" she murmured, but more to herself than to him, so he didn't answer.
He had an idea. He hoped he was wrong.
Inside the shop there was an air of decay, the contents of the refrigeration unit concealed behind a thick layer of mould on the glass, the newspapers in the rack yellowed and peeling. There were racks of everything a worker here might need, chocolate bars and sun-tan lotion and packs of painkillers. It was dark and dim in the store, with little light filtering through the narrow arrow-slit windows. And there was a smell in the air, a sour smell, almost but not quite like vomit, which caused a fist of unease to tighten around his gut. As Sarah examined a discarded chocolate bar wrapper, he moved towards the back room, to another heavy door which at some point Levine must have barricaded shut. A table scraped noisily against the concrete floor as he shoved the door inwards.
Here the smell was stronger, so strong his mouth flooded with saliva. Not imagining it then, he thought grimly. He wiped his mouth, fighting nausea.
A sleeping bag lay coiled like a grub on the floor, alongside more chocolate bar wrappers, and an opened can of beans, and a utility jacket had been rolled up and bundled in the corner. Robert knelt down, and, keeping his breathing shallow, tugged the jacket open, saw a darkened dried patch on the khaki canvas, the source of the smell.
Sarah appeared in the doorway, and made a sound of disgust. "Oh God, what is that?"
"Dilo spit." And suddenly it was so thick on the air he could taste it. He coughed, and bundled the jacket back up again. They moved back through into the main part of the shop, and Robert pulled the door shut, swallowing several times.
"Dilophosaurs," she said. "They're the ones that spit venom, right? Uh, grow up to seven metres long, head frill, incapacitate their victims with a poisonous bite..."
"You've done your homework. Looks like Levine had a run-in with them." He moved over the the window, and peered outside. "From the satellite imagery their territory is around this area." When she didn't answer, he glanced at her, saw she's gone pale and her lips had tightened. "He survived, Sarah. At least long enough to come here and take off his jacket and raid the chocolate supply. The only question is why didn't he stay here where it's relatively safe? He has food, he has water, and he must have known this is one of the first places we'd look for him even if we hadn't been able to trace his signal."
"You know the answer, right? He's a scientist."
He pressed his lips together, glared out of the window. "He's an idiot."
"He came here to study the animals, Robert. That's what he's doing." She joined him by the window, squinting out. "He'll have found somewhere concealed, probably high up. Maybe the roof of a building or a tree? It's unlikely he'll have gone too far from the village. Not without transport."
He thought for a moment. The village was small enough that it shouldn't take them too long to check the buildings for any sign of Levine. He suspected she's right; he'd be out in the open somewhere. "All right. Let's search the village."
As he moved cautiously towards the door, she said, "If we split up–"
"We're not splitting up, Sarah." When she started to protest, he added, "This isn't me being chauvinistic. I want someone to cover my back." A flash of a memory rose up in his mind as he moved out into the blinding sunlight. A memory of Ellie leaving him in the jungle, her running footsteps vanishing into the distance. That feeling of being swallowed up by the jungle, by the sweltering heat. He didn't want to be alone. Not now. Not here. This place was unsettling; it reminded him too much of Isla Nublar.
He could feel her gaze on his back. Her boots scuffed against the ground as she followed him. It took her a few moments to answer. "You're probably right," she said. "I guess someone's got to be there to stop you from killing Richard."
He almost laughed.
As they started the search, he thought that at least it wasn't raptors. Dilos were dangerous, but they tended to spit first rather than attack outright, and they usually gave some warning. They preferred to weaken their prey first, although that wasn't much consolation if you got a faceful of venom. He'd come close once; it had been one of the most agonising experiences of his life.
As they moved along one of the side-streets, he heard the first soft hoot. He froze, pressed back against the side of the building. Sarah did the same, shooting him a questioning look.
"Is that them?" she whispered. "They sound like owls."
He nodded, heard another answering hoot. It came from the alleyway that ran beside the house. She leaned closer, pressing against him. "I thought they were nocturnal."
"Mostly they are," he said. "But they make exceptions." Cautiously, he leaned around the edge of the building. At the end of the alley, he could see the gate that led to a swimming pool, and beyond a flash of movement. A dilophosaur, bending to drink from the pool. It hooted, and the hoot was echoed by another animal. "What the hell are they doing?"
Sarah touched his arm. "If Richard's going to be anywhere..." she murmured.
"Yes. Shit. Okay, come on." They moved back around the side of the house and inside. It had an air of emptiness, of somewhere abandoned. They went upstairs and into the back bedroom, where French doors opened out onto a rooftop terrace surrounded by a waist-height stone wall. Sarah slid the doors open open a few inches, and Robert winced at the noise it made. More of the strange repetitive hoots drifted in. Keeping down, they crept across the terrace and looked out over the top of the wall.
Six dilos, ranging in size from juveniles to fully grown adults far larger than any of the dilophosaurs at Isla Nublar, stood by the swimming pool, in groups of two. As he watched, one of the dilos in each pair bent to take a drink from the murky-looking water and hooted, and a moment later the other in the pair did the same thing, the same bobbing movement, the same soft hoot.
Sarah drew in a sharp breath. "Robert, that's a mating ritual." Her voice was little more than a breath, and that shining look in her eyes was back. "Have you seen anything like that before?"
As he shook his head, a flash from one of the houses opposite drew his eye. Sunlight catching on glass. Gently, he nudged Sarah, and nodded to one of the terraces opposite. "You were right," he murmured. "Look."
A moment after he spoke, Richard Levine poked his head over the stone wall on the balcony opposite them, a video camera gripped in his hand. He had been half-concealed behind a couple of plant pots balanced on the wall, but his movement had caused the light to reflect on the lens of the video camera. He was shifting position, trying to get a better shot of the dilophosaurs in the square below. "He's leaning out too far," Robert muttered, glaring at him. "Man's got a death wish."
And as he spoke, Levine looked up and saw them. He visibly started, and almost dropped the camera. Robert flinched as he fumbled with it, managed to catch it, an expression of relief spreading across his face. And then there was a moment of horror as his elbow caught against the plant pot balanced on the wall. It teetered on the edge for a moment, then plummeted, shattering on the paving stones by one of the dilos.
It swung around, snarling, turned towards the remains of the terracotta plant pot. Sniffed at it. On the terrace Richard Levine froze in terror.
Get back. Get out of sight, you stupid fucker.
Robert brought up the rifle, squinting down the scope, but another of the larger dilos moved around behind the first, blocking his shot. And the first dilo looked up and saw Levine frozen above.
"Shit."
Its flanks tensed. A jerk of its head and something slapped against Richard's face. He screamed, a howl of sudden desperate agony, clawing at his eyes. His hips struck the wall, and he toppled over, plunging into the midst of the dilophosaurs.