Chapter Seven.
"When you said that you were prepared," Claire scans the rows of containers on the deck. "I didn't think that Carbine would be sending in a whole damn army!"
"This's only food for the locals," Owen replies, leaning against the rail. He turns his back on the metal bars and faces her. "You okay? You look a little pale."
"Yeah," Claire nods. "Just a bit sea sick…and jetlagged to hell."
"It's been a tough few days," he agrees. "But it'll be over soon."
"I really hope so," she adds.
She pulls the sleeves on Owen's oversized hoody down, hiding the goosebumps on her arms.
"Can you do me a favour?" He asks.
"Depends," she raises an eyebrow at him.
"If things ever get too much for you at any point, you'll let me know."
She picks at a loos thread on the jacket sleeve.
"Claire, please. It's all I'm asking," he shuffles a little closer. "'Cause if something does happen, I'll be right there for you…with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses."
"Well," a familiar voice calls out from behind them. "This seems to be amiable weather for today of all days."
"It's nice to see you too Lowery," Owen smiles at him.
"Claire," Lowery adds. "It's great to finally see you again."
He wraps his arms around her, almost crushing her. Tentatively, she returns the favour.
"It's been too long," she finally answers.
"Don't worry about Karen and the kids; they're taking a well-earned vacation, somewhere where InGen can't touch 'em," he winks, taking a step back.
Claire raises an eyebrow.
"See, now you've said that, I'm worried."
"What Lowery means is that Carbine has relocated Karen, Gray and Zach until the heat dies down."
"Where? Where are they?"
She looks to Owen and then to Lowery.
Lowery's eyes focus on his feet.
"Errm," Owen scratches the back of his neck. "They're on Isla Nublar."
"I can't believe this," she pushes past both of them and heads down to the forest of containers on the cargo deck.
"You didn't tell her?"
"You idiot Lowery!"
"Ow!" Lowery clutches his shoulder. "Look, she was likely to find out eventually."
"Claire," Owen calls after her, taking the steps two at a time to catch up. "I know, I should've told you."
The deck below is empty, except from a couple of men wearing hi-visibility jackets.
"Claire!"
Slowly, he makes his way down the middle, looking left and right down each corridor. His phone buzzes in his pocket. Cartwright.
"Leonard, this isn't a great time…oh for the love of… No, I don't want to pressure her into any more… he can stick his interviews where the sun don't shine! Surely we at least have a day to adjust before he fries our brains?...Fine, but if anything happens, it's your fault."
Her head thumps as if someone is in there with a drum kit.
Why? Why didn't they say anything?
She grips the rusting rail so tightly that her knuckles turn white.
I trusted him…over and over again…why?
The rock of the boat only makes things worse, bringing bile to the back of her throat.
"There you are."
"Go away Owen, I'm not in the mood for this."
"Look, I'm sorry; there was little time to explain every little detail."
"There was the ride to the airport, the whole plane journey, in the cab to the dock," she lists. "You had plenty of time to tell me this small frickin' detail!"
"Point taken," he replies, slowly taking a few steps towards her.
"How long have they been on the island?"
"They were there when you called her yesterday," he answers. "With the island in the state that it is, there's no need to worry."
"Don't you dare say that," she spits back, finally managing to face him. "You said that it's still not 100% safe; they almost died there and now you've got my sister along for the ride too?"
"Cartwright offered them accommodation to keep them safe," Owen replies. "They had the option not to take it."
"Yeah, I'm sure that Karen had much choice if Gray had any say in it."
"The point is that they're safe," he sighs. "You're pissed and I get that-"
"You're damn right I'm pissed with you," she interrupts. "What's this? The third time that you've kept something from me? I'm getting tired of your shit, to be honest. Back then, when we were being hunted by dinosaurs, I would've followed you to the world's end. But we're not in that situation anymore. You need to tell me what the hell is going on!"
Owen snorts, "what? Like when you just disappeared that night?"
"You think I planned that?"
"Let's see, I don't recall finding a note, having a brief conversation, any clues as to where you went," he lists each point on his fingers. "So what? Now you want to really consult?"
"Oh grow up," she snaps.
"I have, Claire," he answers, pacing up and down. "Those six years have taught me somethin'. Don't wait around for someone who obviously doesn't give two shits about you."
He turns his back on her and walks away.
"I do care about you, Owen," Claire's voice is barely above a whisper.
He stops dead in his tracks.
"Well you've got a funny way of showing it."
"I left because everywhere I turned, people wanted answers…and for a long time, I didn't know how to answer them."
"And you couldn't just tell me?"
"We're both just being hypocrites," she sighs, looking out at the vast ocean before them. "We've kept stuff from each other, now we're arguing about it… You really think that I don't care about you?"
"You disappeared, Claire," he appears by her side. "For six years. What did you expect me to think?"
Slowly, she releases her grip on the rail and covers his hand with hers.
"Well, for the record," she starts. "I hated leaving you…I just thought it'd be easier for you if I did just vanish."
"Easier?" he sandwiches her hand with his. "It was hell. You know how many times I had to scare racoons away from my food where I camped?"
Claire's lips curve upwards.
"Yeah, a year in a tent. Not many people can say they did that for a girl," he laughs lightly, bumping her with his shoulder.
A dark shape begins to peep over the horizon, half hidden by thick clouds.
"Err…Claire, could you remove your nails from my skin please?"
"Sorry," she apologises and tries to pull her hand away.
"Not yet," he presses down to keep her there. "I kinda like it."
The various machines whirr as the boat pulls into the dock; flagpoles hold faded blue banners aloft along the pier. Close to the archway, several cars await.
"I feel like we're on the Titanic," Owen smiles, waving to the group of onlookers.
"If you ever sing one note of that song, I will find Blue and order her to stop you," Claire answers through gritted teeth.
Owen grins at her.
"Barry!" he calls out as they descend the ramp to the walkway. "How's my girl?"
"Thanks," Barry pauses, his arms stretched open. "Considerate, Owen. No 'Hi Barry, how are you'?"
"I apologise. How are you…and how's Blue?"
"She's good," he wraps his arms around his friend briefly, clapping him loudly on the back.
Barry's eyes fall on Owen's companion.
"Claire?"
"Hi Barry," she replies. "I hear that you've been stuck over here for a year now."
"Yeah," he answers. "It's good to see you."
"Claire!"
A sudden stampede from the top of the pier tumbles into Claire, almost knocking her off her feet. All she can see is a mixture of blonde, dark and mousey brown hair. Not too far away Owen laughs as she stands motionless.
"I can't believe it," Karen repeats, over and over again.
"Hi," she replies, her voice muffled.
Owen lets out an exaggerated sigh, "don't I get a welcome…or an acknowledgment?"
Finally, after what seems hours, they finally let go and harass Owen.
They've grown…
Zach towers over his 'uncle', whereas Gray stands almost eye to eye.
"You boys get taller every time I see you," Owen smiles at them. "You enjoying yourselves?"
"It's awesome," Gray beams. "We got to feed the T Rex yesterday and Blue this morning!"
"Yeah? She behave for you?"
Gray nods enthusiastically.
"Zach?"
"Yeah," he shrugs. "They let me in the control room, tryna get me to help 'em crack codes and fix stuff."
"Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but I was told to take you to the control centre," Barry interrupts. "They're anxious to get you and Claire up there asap to open restricted files and stuff. Plus…there's this new guy; he wants to speak with you."
Owen turns to face Claire, noticing her pale complexion.
"You ready?" he asks.
She slowly nods, her wide eyes fixed on the archway at the end on the pier.
"Hey," he smiles, gently touching her shoulder. "C'mon, let's get going before the weather turns."
Her gaze floats upwards to the darkening sky; she nods slightly.
"We'll catch up with you guys later," Owen smiles to Claire's family.
Karen replies with a nod and coaxes her sons back up the pier to the vehicles.
"Mind if we take a shortcut Barry?"
His colleague bobs his head before following the others up the path.
"Claire," he gently takes her arm in his, securing her hand in his. "Everything'll be okay, I promise."
Some colour returns to her cheeks, but her grip on his hand tightens.
"It's dead and everything is in their cages," he reassures her. "We're safe."
"It's not the dinosaurs that worry me," she hesitantly replies.
"Then what is it?"
She rubs her arm.
"You can trust me, okay? I'm not gonna go round telling people that you're still…cautious about this place."
She takes a deep breath.
"It's everything. People died here and I'm responsible."
"Nothing you could've done would've prevented it."
"Yes there was. We panicked and she escaped."
"Well…this time, let's just keep calm and…"
"Carry on?" she interjects.
"I was gonna say take one step at a time, but yours sounds more catchy," he smiles and gently squeezes her hand. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," she replies.