Reign of Chaos: Book 2: Biosyn

by Sassy Lil Scorpio

After Robert Muldoon and Dennis Nedry disappear from John Hammond's bungalow, the InGen staff have to fend for themselves and find out what happened to both men. A visitor, claiming to be an InGen board director, arrives on the island with the pretense that he'll help InGen solve their problems. Tensions develop as unlikely alliances are formed and friendships are torn apart. {AU}

7. Sweet Dreams

"Sweet Dreams"

The sun was high in the sky and it smiled down on the two men who wandered through Isla Sorna's luscious jungle. The air was thick with gnats and the heat was on full blast. Robert Muldoon wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead. Turning around, he saw Dennis Nedry lagging behind. Muldoon took a deep breath, exhausted from the relentless heat. He stopped and leaned against a tree; the bark pinched his back. Nedry finally caught up.

"How much more do we have to go?" he asked.

"A lot more, we have to keep walking," Muldoon said.

"Not even a small break?"

"Nope."

Muldoon resumed walking. He took in the expansion of the jungle; its mammoth size diminishing the two men's. There had to be a lake where they could drink water. He knew they were a long way from the coast of the island, otherwise they would have heard waves crashing on the shore. Even the salty scent of ocean water was non-existent in the heart of the island. They were both thirsty and hungry. The hunger could wait, but the thirst—that had to be satisfied to ensure their survival.

He looked around and saw a white flash in the distance. It was the sun reflecting a body of water. Or was it? Muldoon broke into a run to find what he believed would slake his and Nedry's thirst. Further ahead, there was a clearing surrounded by ring of palm trees. He entered the area and heard the sound of a bird singing and wondered if it were possible that birds survived on this island. Of course they do, he thought bitterly. Anything could survive here except us.

In the middle of the clearing was a natural lake. He peered in to the water to see his reflection. The water was dark and murky. He cupped his hands in the water, deciding if he should taste it or not. A branch snapped behind him. Nedry ambled into the clearing and sat down under a tree to escape the stifling heat and watched Muldoon closely.

"It's water," Muldoon told him.

Nedry nodded silently.

Muldoon breathed a sigh of relief. The water wasn't the cleanest, but it was better than nothing. The lake stretched further out beyond the trees and widened in the middle. Perhaps if he walked further down he'd find cleaner water. He decided to chance it. Flies and mosquitoes buzzed above the still water and tall brownish-green reeds stuck out, their roots hidden beneath the lake's calm surface. He walked around to the other side and moved in closer to the lake. From this angle, he could reach the water quicker.

Now he stood on the lake's shoreline. His boots made squishing sounds in the brown runny mud; it was more swamp-like in this section. He walked further in and the muck reached his ankles now. Muldoon looked behind him and saw Nedry standing ten feet away, entertained by Muldoon's curiosity.

"You expect me to do all the dirty work?" Muldoon asked.

"I'm not going in there," Nedry said wrinkling his nose. "You go in and let me know if it's okay."

Figures. Muldoon already tasted the water soothing his parched throat. Just a few more steps and he'd reach it. He took one large step forward—and felt his left leg sink into the soupy mud.

His heart knocked against his chest and he told himself to calm down. The mud was loose and the marsh was thick with still water and sand. He could handle this. He took another step and his right leg plunged downward. He tried to lift his left leg and felt himself sink deeper into the boggy swamp. Now it had enveloped his left knee.

With a sudden jolt, he realized what he was in: quicksand.

He had unknowingly stepped into quicksand. How did he fail to recognize it?

He opened his mouth, but no words came out, and his throat felt drier than ever. Muldoon shifted his weight to turn back around. The dense marsh slowed down his movement. The quicksand, as though sensing his twisting and jerking around in an attempt to escape, pulled him in tighter. His heart punched his ribcage.

"Dennis!"

He tried not to let panic enter his voice. Muldoon was not a man who was easily rattled. He had learned to hold his own against ferocious animals in Africa. Working with Jurassic Park's peaceful herbivores and bloodthirsty carnivores had given him an extra shield of skin. But this was different. In Africa, he had witnessed a native get swallowed whole by quicksand. Even large animals—zebras, rhinos, and apes—could be conquered by the hidden danger. The best thing, he knew, was to not thrash around, as it would make him sink faster. Ironically, that was also the most difficult part since his first instinct was to get the hell out of the quicksand as soon as he could and by any means possible. Holding onto and fighting for his life was instinctual. Embracing death was not.

He called out again, this time his voice shaky and he didn't care how frightened he sounded.

Nedry appeared at the edge of the lake's shoreline. "Grab this!" He held out a large branch.

Muldoon reached his arms out as far as he could. It wasn't enough, the branch was too short. Nedry held the branch further out and Muldoon waved his arms wildly as he tried to snatch it. He sank deeper, the dark brown mud mixture slopped around his upper thighs.

Nedry tossed away the branch, and slowly crawled on his hands and knees in Muldoon's direction. He was careful not to go near the dense part of the marsh that disguised itself as thick mud and watery sand. He extended his arm and held out his hand.

"Grab my hand—I'll pull you in!"

Muldoon moved very slowly, inch by inch. He was making progress; he was two feet away from Nedry's hand. As he pushed forward, his movement very minimal, he felt the quicksand shift and then reach above his waist. The quicksand was slowly sucking him in with every step he took. His khaki shorts were flooded with the oozing muck and he felt it creep around and between his legs. It was very uncomfortable, but that was the last thing on Muldoon's mind. He needed to get out of the damn quicksand.

Nedry stretched out his hand as far as he could. He nodded quickly, encouraging Muldoon to grab his hand so that he would be saved from oncoming death.

"Come on!"

Muldoon attempted to leap forward with all his strength. His fingers grazed Nedry's and he almost gripped them. Almost. Then he sank rapidly as the slimy sludge rose up to his chest.

"Damn it!" he said loudly.

He had been so close.

It was getting harder to breathe. His chest burned as he struggled to inhale and exhale. Every time he breathed, the quicksand tightened around him. The foul quagmire invaded his nostrils with their dead fecal stench. That wasn't all he smelled, but he refused to allow himself to accept this mud-hole as his final resting place. He breathed deeply through his mouth.

Nedry held out his hand patiently.

Bogged down by the clogged mud, Muldoon tried to walk forward, but now it was impossible. He was stuck in his position. He made one last attempt to escape nature's prison that refused to release him. With his right arm outstretched; his palm wide open, and his fingers reaching desperately, he put all his strength and effort to grab Nedry's hand. He strained his hand outward, barely grasping his palm, and touched Nedry's fingertips—when Nedry quickly lifted his hand out of Muldoon's reach.

Muldoon tried again and this time clawed air. He twisted around and this movement fast-forwarded his sinking deeper into the slippery quicksand. Now he was up to his neck in the mire and it took great strength to get his arms out of the heavy swamp. He looked up and saw Nedry get to his feet, a strange grin on his face. Muldoon couldn't tell if Nedry was laughing at him or with him—although the situation was anything but funny.

"What the bloody hell?!" he shouted. Thick mud rushed into his mouth and seeped down his throat. Muldoon's eyes bulged in their sockets. He tried to cough up the vile slime, but it was impossible. His body trembled violently—he wanted to throw up what he had been forced to swallow. The taste was indescribable.

A cheery, nauseating voice spoke to him from above: "It's been real."

Muldoon felt the mud choke him, his eyes were on fire, and he couldn't lift his arms. Only his nose, eyes, forehead, and hair remained above the surface. He glared at Nedry; it was all he could do to express his rage.

"Don't worry; I'll get InGen to put a grave marker for you. Not that you'll be missed."

Muldoon's vision was hazy and he could barely make out Nedry who had backed up away from the marshy lake. He tried again to raise his right arm and he succeeded in getting it out halfway. His elbow stuck out, the rest of the arm was hidden by the quicksand.

"Too bad we don't have your beloved fedora. That would've been a perfect touch."

Muldoon couldn't think straight anymore. He was going to die here and that thought scared him more than anything in the world. Fighting one on one against a velociraptor was a living blessing compared to this death curse that had been thrown at him. Nedry smiled down at him and Muldoon knew he could sense his fear. He's enjoying this. He's glad to see me get swallowed alive.

Muldoon realized he never should've trusted Nedry to save his life. What had ever made him believe that Nedry possessed a single strand of decency in him? Nedry could never be trusted. It wasn't just about money for him—he didn't care who he betrayed—or killed. Muldoon refused to lie down and die. He would never accept a death as humiliating and voiceless as this. However, there was no alternative given the present situation. If he ever got out—(which he certainly wouldn't as his mind kept insisting)— he'd kill Nedry with his bare hands.

At the same moment he was thinking that, a strange and uninvited peaceful feeling spread through him. It's going to be fine and everything will be alright— this calm yet deceiving part of his psyche told him. Like hell it is, the other side raged back. He made a final and weak attempt to escape the quicksand and sunk deeper. The thick muddy quagmire, impatient with its victim, yanked him downward, demanding he fall in love with his fate.

"Sweet dreams, Robert."

Nedry grinned and walked away completely serene and satisfied. His last vision of Muldoon were of the man's palm sticking out, his fingers claw-like and stiff as if he had already waved good-bye to the world.

Muldoon never heard Nedry's final three words to him. Not that it mattered. The quicksand closed over his head, filtered into his eyes, nose and ears. A humming noise resounded in his head and got louder. Then blackness fell on him like a cloak thrown from above.

And he knew it was over.

oOo

Muldoon woke up violently and sat upright, drenched in cold sweat. His heart knocked against his ribs and he struggled to catch his breath. His hands clawed at the dirt and his feet kicked the earth beneath him. He was still fighting against the oppressive quicksand. Finally, he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. He patted himself down to make sure he had been washed clean of the slimy brackish mud. Breathing a sigh of relief, Muldoon realized he was truly alive and not dead and looking down at his fate. His heart kept slamming inside of him, threatening to shatter his ribcage. He recalled the nightmare he had just experienced. That's exactly how it felt like—as if he had experienced it.

To assure himself that it was night and not daytime like in the nightmare, he glanced into the reddish-orange sky. The night was already fading and a new day was swiftly arriving. The stars that were still visible in the early morning hours winked back at him. The moon had already clocked out and the sun was beginning its daily shift. Muldoon would have to continue his journey in Isla Sorna with Dennis Nedry.

Wait, one damn minute, Muldoon thought, stopping himself.

He didn't have to continue his journey with Nedry. As a matter of fact, he didn't want to. No, not after this. He couldn't. He didn't trust Nedry at all, but this dream was definitely trying to tell him something. Didn't dreams reflect your subconscious thoughts? If that was the case….

Muldoon wasted no time and got right to his feet. He brushed the grass and dirt off his clothes and glanced around. He and Nedry had slept on a hill that had scattered dirt patches and tall overgrown weeds. They had left the cottages awhile ago at Muldoon's insistence that they search for the beach. Nedry hadn't been too thrilled at the idea since they seemed to travel in circles, finding nothing new, while arguing the whole time. Last night, when Muldoon insisted they sleep on the hill they were on now, that only led to another squabble with Nedry. They had ended their night fighting, so on that note, it didn't surprise Muldoon now that he had that nightmare.

Hopefully, with little luck, today would be a day where they spoke minimally to each other. That wouldn't be so bad to Muldoon. They had to leave anyway if they were going to find that beach. Muldoon couldn't stand to be stranded on the island for another day. He searched for Nedry and spotted a large shape lying on its side ten yards away. He quickly ran over to it and knelt down.

"Wake up, Dennis," Muldoon hissed. He nudged Nedry's body trying to rouse him from his deep sleep. "Wake up—NOW!"

Nedry turned in his sleep. Apparently, he was very comfortable and not ready to rise and shine. Too bad, Muldoon thought. He jabbed Nedry's belly with his elbow. That should do it.

"What…?" he asked, still half-asleep.

"Get up." Muldoon lifted Nedry's arm and his head fell into the grass. Muldoon saw him open one eye then close it as if deliberately ignoring Muldoon's attempts to wake him up.

"It's early in the morning, Robert. Go back to sleep," Nedry yawned and turned on his other side.

"Five more minutes," Muldoon compromised.

"Five more hours." Nedry held up five fingers, his head still buried in the grass.

Muldoon counted to fifty in his head. "Okay, five minutes are done. Let's go."

"Bullshit," Nedry murmured, but he slowly lifted his head up and stretched his arms above his head. He shook off the last vestiges of sleep and wobbled to his feet. "Why'd you do that? Now I'm gonna have a pounding headache."

"You'll live," Muldoon said coldly.

Without another word, he walked down the hill, watching his step carefully. He stopped when he didn't hear Nedry behind him. He turned around and looked up to see Nedry standing at the top of the hill watching Muldoon.

"Before you go marching off into the sunrise, do you mind telling me what this is all about?"

"Yes," Muldoon said. "I'll tell you soon enough. Follow me."

Nedry walked a few paces and then stopped.

"Why don't you say it right now?"

"It can wait."

Muldoon continued walking down the hill. He nodded, satisfied when he heard Nedry behind him. Soon, they reached the bottom of the hill and were crossing through the thick jungle forest.

"Want to catch a snake and roast it over a spitfire pit?" Nedry asked. "I hear it's very healthy, lots of vitamins." He wasn't hungry; he only asked to break the silent tension between him and Muldoon. Usually he didn't care about Muldoon's solemn moods, but this time, he wondered what concerned him.

"No," Muldoon said without turning around.

"Fine. Be that way."

Neither of them said a word to each other the entire time they walked.

oOo

It wasn't long before the sun reached the middle of the sky. The thick jungles of Isla Sorna provided some shade for the two men, but it wasn't enough to totally block out the sun's boiling heat. Muldoon wiped sweat from his forehead and Nedry swatted away swarms of gnats.

"How much more do we have to go?" he asked.

"A lot more, we have to keep walking," Muldoon said.

"Not even a small break?"

"Nope."

Muldoon stopped abruptly, realizing what he and Nedry had just said to each other. It's just like the dream—nightmare, he quickly corrected himself.

"I thought you said we had to keep walking," Nedry asked, irritated. The heat was getting to him. "Make up your mind."

"And we're going to keep doing that." Muldoon said and started again.

Nedry walked up ahead of him and blocked his path. "You're going to say what's on your mind now."

"Later on."

"I'm not arguing with you today. Spit it out."

Muldoon said nothing, refusing to speak. He squinted at Nedry, scrutinizing him. Was he capable of watching someone die and not giving a damn about it? He had been asking himself this question the entire time they had walked, and so far, he hadn't come up with an answer. Nedry fixed the collar of the Jurassic Park workman attire he wore and rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. It was a midnight blue uniform and fitted like a large jumpsuit. The Jurassic Park logo was stitched into the left sleeve near the shoulder. He wears that uniform as if he still works for Hammond, Muldoon thought, feeling sick to his stomach. He probably stole it.

"Well?" Nedry asked, his impatience growing. "Are you just going to stand there and bake in the sun?"

"Let's go our own separate ways," Muldoon said, not looking at him. He wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

"I said that in the beginning."

"Right, you did." Muldoon cringed inwardly. He hated admitting that Nedry was right about anything.

"But we agreed to get off this island together," Nedry insisted, somewhat confused. "After we return to Isla Nublar, then we split up."

"I've changed my mind. It's better to split up now."

Nedry was speechless. He looked behind him and then back at Muldoon. Finally, he said, "That doesn't make sense. We're on an island and bound to run into each other again."

"Unfortunately," Muldoon said dryly and he turned his back on Nedry.

Nedry stared incredulously at Muldoon's opposing stance. He couldn't comprehend his motives for doing this. Both men were aware they weren't friends just because they had been left stranded on Isla Sorna. They knew they couldn't behave like rivals in their situation. They had to work together to get off the island. After that, everything was fair game.

"'Unfortunately'? That's how it is now?"

"That's how it is now."

Muldoon turned back around and studied the ground beneath their feet as though expecting it to give away like quicksand. He kept his stony position, unflinching and unwavering. Then he met Nedry's dark eyes that flashed with anger and disbelief.

Nedry shook his head. His hatred towards Muldoon overwhelmed him and he was forced to take a step back to prevent himself from striking him. "Whatever," he said. "I can't believe you woke me up for this crap." He stomped off in the opposite direction.

Muldoon watched him slink off and called out to him.

"What?!" Nedry shouted. "What the hell do you want?"

"Never mind!" Muldoon called back. "Just bloody leave!" He was reconsidering his position and then decided against it.

"Go play patty-cake with a raptor!" Nedry made a swiping motion in the air with his hand, then turned around and continued along the path, yanking angrily at the tall ferns in his path.

Muldoon instinctively touched the scar on his face. This is all your doing, he thought as a streak of rage flashed inside him. We wouldn't even be stranded on this island if it weren't for you. Then he regained his composure. It had gone easier than he had expected. Nedry was furious, but oh well. Muldoon realized he didn't really care if Nedry got off the island alive. That was spiteful and he amended his thoughts. He cared—but not that much. The idea didn't take up space in his mind.

"Good riddance," he murmured to himself.

Muldoon felt refreshed. He walked through the jungle and allowed himself to enjoy his time alone. A light breeze blew through the green foliage gently ruffling the leaves. Soon he came upon a cliff that overlooked a clearing from fifteen feet above. He searched the land beneath him and spotted a narrow river flowing through the clearing surrounded by large rocks and luscious tall green ferns. His steel blue eyes widened with excitement. A small voice in the back of his mind told him this was too similar to his dream. He waved his hand, ignoring the voice. Nedry's not here so this is nothing like that horrid nightmare, he convinced himself.

He walked further out on the cliff to get a better view. It was beautiful, there was a river so he could get water in his system, and—

The cliff suddenly gave way beneath him. Muldoon let out a brief shout as he felt himself suspended in the air for a millisecond before he tumbled down a hill. He rolled down and flailed his arms and legs attempting to break the fall. The speed increased as he approached the bottom of the hill and the world spun wildly around him as he bounced downward. His face mashed against the grass and his body scraped against stray branches, and the sky and ground appeared to switch places as Muldoon finally crashed on his back.

oOo

Nedry lay under a voluminous tree enjoying the cool shade. After deserting Muldoon, he had made a bed out of the tall green ferns that grew in the jungle. He yawned and rested, happy to finally catch up with his sleep. Damn Muldoon for waking him up just so they could split up. He'd get back to Jurassic Park by himself. He didn't need the sanctimonious park warden to lead the way.

He closed his eyes willing slumber to come to him. At the same moment, he heard a scream in the distance. Was it a scream? Sounded more like a yelp, a cry for help, he thought and chuckled at his rhyme. Then he heard crashing and snapping sounds. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. Muldoon must've tripped on his own shoelaces and fell flat on his face. The thought amused him and he closed his eyes again.

Go find out what happened; a meek voice in his mind urged him. Nedry treated the voice as though it were a pesky bug buzzing at his ear. He waved an annoyed hand as if swatting the voice. He tried to go to sleep and his conscious urged him again. Go find out, the meek voice had morphed into an authoritative baritone. He opened his eyes wide when he realized that the scream wasn't as far away as he thought. In fact, it had come from the direction where he had left Muldoon.

"Damn conscience," he muttered. He got up and left his makeshift bed.

oOo

Muldoon staggered and placed his right hand on his back. His back groaned with pain. It felt like someone had repeatedly slammed a chair on his back. Waves of pain kept crashing against it. He knew what that felt like from his past encounters with Nedry. He glanced down and saw grass stains smeared over his khakis and his knees and arms bled from small cuts. Bruises were starting to appear on his legs and arms. He picked out a wet leaf from his hair and saw a bright orange caterpillar inching innocently on it.

Muldoon stepped around trying to get his bearings. He looked up at the hill he had just tumbled down. The hill swayed to and fro and when he turned to the river, he swore it moved back and forth on its own. He turned a complete circle, the world spun in the opposite direction and he spat out a glob of saliva. Dizziness overtook him and he fell flat on his face. As he slowly regained his balance, he felt throbbing pain in his legs and arms. They were cramped and weak.

Not a downer and nothing I can't handle, he told himself as he limped towards the calm river. It was wider than he realized. From atop the cliff it had appeared narrow. He was getting closer to it, but for some reason it seemed further away—it's all in my head, he thought. He sprinted forward, not letting his sprained ankle slow him down. He was within a foot of the river, when his left boot hit a jutting rock and he went flying. Muldoon threw out his arms to break the fall, but it was too late. His forehead smacked loudly against a large jagged rock that lay along the riverside. Extreme pain exploded between his eyes; it felt like someone had smashed a hammer into his skull. He saw red fireworks and then his vision blackened as he slipped face first into the river.

oOo

Nedry slid down the hill feet first and kept his hands on the dirt to slow the pace down. He has almost slipped and bumbled down the hill like Muldoon, but had caught himself just in time. As he neared the end of the hill, he dug his sneakers into the dirt and came to a bumpy halt. He rubbed his mud-caked hands on the workman uniform and then headed towards the river flowing ten feet in front of him. He looked around quickly; his eyes searching the river for any sign of Muldoon.

Then he spotted him.

Muldoon's right foot stuck out of the river, his boot bobbed up and down gently, beckoning Nedry's attention. He was in the middle of the water and it was the widest section. The rest of Muldoon's body and head was submerged underwater.

Without the slightest hesitation, Nedry ran into the river; the water splashed around him. He moved further in and suddenly plunged downward. The river was deeper than he thought. There was no time to waste.

Holding his breath, Nedry submerged himself in the water. Under water, he saw Muldoon floating limply with his arms outstretched and eyes closed. Nedry swam towards him as fast as he could. A thick trail of blood floated around Muldoon and Nedry saw a deep gash on his forehead. He made a mental note to take care of the injury, but first, he'd get him out of here.

Nedry surfaced to catch another gulp of oxygen and swam down to Muldoon, where he reached under Muldoon's arms and held him tight. Muldoon didn't respond; he simply bobbed up and down. He must be unconscious, Nedry thought, lifting him up and swimming up to the surface. That was the most important thing—to make sure Muldoon got to the surface so that he could breathe. Nedry didn't know how long Muldoon had lay facedown in the water and he didn't want to think about it. He desperately hoped that Muldoon was just knocked out and not dead.

"You better be alive," Nedry muttered as he surfaced again, swallowing air.

Muldoon wasn't responding like Nedry hoped he would. His head lolled to the side and blood from his forehead streamed down his face. Nedry reached the riverside and placed him down gently against a tree trunk so that he was sitting against the bark. He knelt down to Muldoon's chest to see if he could hear a heartbeat and grabbed his wrist to feel for a pulse. Nothing came from that so Nedry listened carefully to Muldoon's chest. There was nothing at first and then he heard it. Muldoon's heart beat softly.

Nedry sighed in relief. He examined the open gash on Muldoon's forehead and realized it wasn't as bad as he first thought. Tearing off a piece of his workman uniform, Nedry made a makeshift bandage by wrapping the material around Muldoon's head to stop the bleeding. As he finished securing it, Muldoon retched violently, the water from the river escaped his system from his mouth. Disoriented and clouded by pain, he squinted around him, trying to stand and focus on his surroundings and nearly fell down. Nedry caught him just in time.

Hoisting Muldoon over his shoulders in a fireman's carry; Nedry stood up and left the area. He had no idea where he'd go. Anywhere far from here would be good. He headed towards the jungle in the direction that they had been going before they had separated, leaving behind a watery trail.

oOo

The sun was moments away from clocking out. It lay near the horizon burning brightly. Muldoon opened his eyes and saw the ground and jungle moving swiftly past him. He wondered where the hell he was when he realized his body was in an awkward position and his arms and legs were held securely. He wriggled, trying to escape the grip. He sensed danger or had that already passed?

Nedry stopped and placed Muldoon down on his feet. "Unfortunately, we meet again," he said recalling their last conversation. He grinned, amused.

Muldoon didn't say anything. He touched the cloth wrapped around his head and then noticed the left sleeve of Nedry's uniform was ripped. The last thing he remembered was racing to the river, tripping over a large rock, and hitting his head against another large jagged rock near the river. After that, everything had turned red and then quickly faded to black. He had no memory of anything else. Great, a memory gap, he thought. Muldoon looked around him, noting the jungle canopy. He felt as though he had been there before, but then again, they had been walking in circles ever since leaving the cabins. Then he looked at Nedry and held his arms up to ward him off.

"Back off!"

Nedry recoiled, shocked. "I saved your life and this is the gratitude I get?"

"I'm sure you'd prefer cash as a reward for your generous efforts," Muldoon shot back.

Nedry chuckled now. "Believe it or not, my life doesn't revolve around the almighty dollar."

"For now—until you go back to working for Dodgson."

"Where is this coming from?"

Muldoon's anger grew. Don't play bloody mind games with me. "You tell me, you should know—or have you forgotten all the times you invaded Jurassic Park to satisfy your lust for money."

Nedry scoffed as though Muldoon's words couldn't be further from the truth, and changed the topic. "I got you out because you sure as hell would've drowned in there."

"Yes, because you were so concerned about me surviving." Muldoon's eyes narrowed to black slits. He knew what he said next would contradict the fact that he chose to part ways earlier. "You're so bloody pathetic; you can't get off this island by yourself."

"I admit it: I need a hunter guide to get me off this island. The only reason I dove in after you was to save my own ass."

"That's sounds more like it," Muldoon agreed.

"Well, Mr. Holier-Than-Thou, I know you'll hate to hear this, but you're wrong. That's not why I got you out."

"Why did you then?" Nedry opened his mouth to explain himself when Muldoon quickly cut him off. "So that you can prove you've had a change of heart?"

"Forget it. I should've let your stupid-ass drown in that river. Next time I'll leave you there." Nedry glared at him, not saying anything. He was tired of arguing with Muldoon, and angry that Muldoon was trashing him, after he got him out in time. Then it hit him: he'd the record straight once and for all about who he was—and who he was not. "I know what you think of me—and I know what the park staff thinks of me."

"Liar. Thief. Just to name a few."

"Let's make a list on a notepad while we're at it."

"We'd run out of paper and ink."

Nedry ignored his last scathing comment. He ticked off the fingers on his hand. "Liar and thief. That's two for starters. Calculating. Glutton. Hacker. Traitor. Fatty—yeah, there's a dozen names for that one including Mr. Chunks. Cunning. Slob. Cheater. Double-dealer. Menace—geez, I wonder how they came up with that one? Common criminal. Coward. Son of a bitch. Cocky. Anti-social. Jerk. Greedy. Obnoxious. Rude. Self-absorbed. Annoying. Smart-ass. Big mouth. Difficult. Manipulative. Sociopath. Tricky. Nerdy. Cold. Sellout. Money-starved. Bastard. Conniving. Malicious. Selfish. Arrogant. Egotistical. Pain in the ass. Fraud. Scumbag." He stopped and his throat constricted as emotions he usually blocked overcame him.

"Good, you finally accept yourself for who you are," Muldoon said. "Keep going, you're missing one."

"I might be all those things…but I'm not a cold-blooded killer."

"As opposed to a warm-blooded one?"

"No." Nedry shook his head, "I'm not a murderer. Period."

He turned his back on Muldoon and started down the trail. Let Muldoon think whatever he wanted. He figured the entire park staff felt as Muldoon did and blamed him for what happened to Hammond. Muldoon wanted to hear him to admit that he didn't value human life; that he got off on injuring—nearly killing those he used to work with from InGen. Well, Hammond's stroke was his fault. Nedry fully accepted responsibility for his actions that day—but he would never let anyone tell him that he had purposely set out to harm John Hammond. Nedry often thought that people could think what they wanted, but they didn't know who he truly was. He wasn't a killer. He knew his last words to Hammond on that day hadn't been kind to say the least. If he hadn't—

"Wait!"

Nedry stopped, but didn't turn around. Muldoon got in his face, blocking his path.

"What about Hammond? You wanted to hurt him that day you let the raptors out!"

"What happened to Hammond was an accident."

Nedry started walking again when Muldoon quickly stepped in front of him again. He jabbed an accusing finger in Nedry's chest.

"'Accident,'" Muldoon spat. "I bet you tell yourself that everyday so that you don't have to feel responsible for what happened to him. Do you tweak the details of that day and tell yourself it was a computer malfunction that released them from their pen?!"

"No." Nedry's voice was deadpan, and he simply looked at Muldoon with disdain. "Once again, you're incorrect in your ridiculous assumptions. But go on, keep guessing, I find it entertaining."

"Don't bloody lie!" Muldoon struck Nedry in the jaw. "That's all you do is lie. You never tell the truth unless it suits you. You never stop to think about how your actions affect others!"

"Believe what you want to believe." Nedry rubbed his jaw. "If I could do it over again, I would take Hammond's place."

Muldoon sneered. "Sure, so that you could own his billions and order the park staff and myself around."

"No—so I wouldn't be stuck here with you!" Nedry snapped.

There was a long silence between them. They stared at each other, both angry and startled at the same time. The only sound they heard were the jungle creatures talking to each other. Muldoon's face cracked like a broken mirror and he burst out laughing. It was genuine laughter, not mocking or full of contempt. Nedry stared at him as though Muldoon was crazy and backed off. He had never seen Muldoon laugh like this—it was scary. The man was so serious that pulling his teeth couldn't get him to crack a smile. And now Muldoon laughed uncontrollably.

"You're weird," Nedry told him.

"I know," Muldoon said, catching his breath.

Nedry shook his head and started walking down a slope.

Muldoon quickly regained his solemn composure. "Let's take a break. We both need to rest."

oOo

They had rested for a short time not saying anything, and then hiked again until night fell. They found a valley overgrown with weeds and vines. Finally, as Muldoon had suggested earlier, they took a long break. The black jungle swallowed them. The moon was round and full and acted as nature's nightlight. It gave them a little light so they could still see each other and the jungle around them. Birds called out to each other and there was scampering in the bushes. The wind picked up and breezed through the island. It was a cool release from the heat of the day.

Muldoon found himself growing hungry. They had no more rations. He remembered taking two flashlights from the cabin. Digging in his pockets, he took them out. They were small flashlights, and he doubted they worked properly now, after falling in the river. He clicked one on, the light flickered and died. He took out the second one and clicked it on. Miraculously, it stayed on and he passed it to Nedry.

"Here, take this," Muldoon said.

Nedry looked at the flashlight and then shook his head. "Thanks, I'm fine."

"I thought you didn't like the dark." He remembered their fight in the cabin about keeping the lights on as opposed to turning them off.

"Only when it's in a closed in space."

Like a prison cell, Muldoon thought. He rested against a tree and closed his eyes. "I killed them all," he said quietly.

"Killed all of…?" Nedry stopped. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head.

"The velociraptors." Muldoon heard Nedry sit up.

"Are you serious? What will John say?"

Muldoon glanced at Nedry in the darkness, a quizzical expression on his face. Even he's worried about how Hammond will react to Jurassic Park having fourteen species instead of fifteen, he thought.

"No more raptors leaping on the fence," Muldoon said to the tune of "no more monkeys jumping on the bed."

"It's a good thing you did that."

"I know."

"You know how John feels about his animals. I mean, they're smelly lizards, but he treats them like they're his babies."

"You're telling me?" Muldoon chuckled. "I know damn well how he coddles them. He treats them better than the humans who work for him."

"Sometimes I picture him cradling a baby whatchacallit—name a lizard for me. I'm bad at this."

"Triceratops." Muldoon offered.

"Yeah, I picture him cradling a baby 'tops in his hands and it bites his finger. Then he gets mad and goo-goo eyed, and says 'that hurts, Toppy'."

Muldoon smiled in the darkness. "Toppy would be tame compared to those raptors."

"Most likely." Nedry snickered and grew serious again. "I'm glad you got rid of them. It's been on your mind for awhile."

"It has," Muldoon said. "I told Henry those raptors should've stayed extinct."

"When did you do it?"

"After the accident."

"Oh…" Nedry nodded, understanding the circumstances that had led to the raptors' second and final extinction.

Muldoon didn't tell Nedry that in a strange way his releasing the raptors had turned out for the good. He never viewed the situation in that light until now. He would never forget that it had led to Hammond's stroke and his ongoing recovery in the hospital. Muldoon had suffered his own injuries and was reminded of the day every time he looked in the mirror or touched his face. Despite all that, Muldoon had finally accomplished his goal to destroy the raptors. For that reason alone, he was thoroughly satisfied. He wished he had gotten rid of them before, but at least Nedry's actions had led to the elimination of the raptors. It had to happen sooner or later, Muldoon thought. It was a conflicting and contradicting idea and made no sense and at the same time, it made perfect sense.

He kept this thought to himself. He didn't want the others to get the wrong idea and think that he was glad that Hammond got hurt. Hammond's stroke was the worst part of the ordeal. It also wasn't fun going one on one with a raptor not knowing if he'd survive to see the next hour. But when he finally got to annihilate the raptors with Grant—that made the pain he felt that day all the more worthwhile. So he told nobody.

Not even Ray Arnold.

Muldoon thought of his best friend. He missed Arnold a great deal and hoped that he was doing fine on Isla Nublar. He also hoped that he wasn't smoking three packs a day. Arnold was a good man and very loyal. He fretted a lot since he had seen a lot in his life due to his work on theme parks and building weapons. Muldoon wanted to know that Arnold wasn't worried about them, that he was sitting in the control room perfectly fine running the park single-handedly from the computers. Of course, asking Arnold not to worry was like asking the sun to stop rising each morning. It just didn't happen. Only on rare occasions did he see Arnold in a calm state. Muldoon brightened at the idea of Arnold doing well. He wanted to think positive for the sake of his friend, but knowing Arnold, he had probably smoked ten packs since Muldoon's and Nedry's disappearance.

"I could really use a cigarette," Muldoon said. He stared up at the stars in the sky. They were so close that he felt he could reach out and grab one.

"Since when do you smoke?" Nedry asked, curious.

"I don't."

"Smoking's bad for you."

"So is overeating."

"So is drinking."

Muldoon shook his head, clicking off the flashlight so that they were plunged in darkness. "I don't drink—not much anyway."

"You carry your flask everywhere and make sure that Hammond and Gennaro don't see it."

Muldoon shrugged. "So?"

"So why do you do it?"

"No reason." Muldoon had plenty of reasons, but none that he cared to explain to Nedry.

"Alright." Nedry nodded. "We'll come back to this subject. Heaven forbid you're in a drunken stupor when those lizards are running amok in the park."

"Or we can slip vodka into the dinosaur's water troughs."

Nedry cracked up laughing. "Who would've thought the self-righteous game warden had a dark side?"

"I'm not as 'self-righteous' as you think." He changed the subject to avoid talking about himself. "Arnold smokes a lot; he's always worried about something. I worry about him."

"You worry about a worrier, isn't that ironic? Seriously though, he knows his stuff," Nedry said. "I liked working with him when we used to be in the control room."

"He's a great guy and works damn hard for Hammond. He's like a mediator when things get crazy the park. As crazy as it is to work there, he's there to smooth things out, calm you down if you're antsy—even when his own mind is scattered."

"Actually, I think he'd say that about you," Nedry said.

"What?" Muldoon wasn't sure he heard right.

"I'm saying you're the one that calms everyone down when hell is breaking loose. You're the one that's in control—sometimes," he added. "I hope he's alright; him and the others."

"I do too," Muldoon said. He considered what Nedry just said about him and Arnold. He was surprised to hear Nedry consider someone outside of himself, and strangest of all, he sounded sincere. "They're probably wondering where the hell we are."

"Yep."

Nedry thought about himself, Arnold, and Muldoon. Their relationships to each other went years back to the time when Hammond first hired them to help build Jurassic Park on the island. It was interesting how they all had a problem or addiction of some sort. Nedry thought of his overeating, Arnold with his cigarettes, and now Muldoon with his drinking. Maybe it was a coincidence that they had all relieved their work stress in different and harmful ways, but he didn't think so. The Jurassic Park project was enormous and you had to be a special breed, and a little bit crazy, to have been apart of creating it. That's how Nedry viewed it.

Was working for Hammond and on Isla Nublar that stressful? Nedry recalled the day of his arrest when Arnold told him that working for Hammond is hard sometimes. Back then, Nedry had responded "most of the time." He hadn't just said that to be a difficult smart-ass. In the early days of the Jurassic Park project, Nedry didn't even know what the park was about. He had been expected to design the complicated computer systems without questioning. There were many times when he truly felt unappreciated and taken for granted. He knew he wasn't the only one who felt that way. He supposed it didn't matter anymore since the park managed to get on its feet with the help of himself, Arnold, Muldoon, Harding, and Wu.

Henry Wu.

Nedry scowled at the thought of him. That son of a bitch, he's worse than—

"What are you going to do when this whole thing is over?" Muldoon asked. Nedry didn't respond; he stared into space lost in his thoughts. He didn't hear me, Muldoon figured. He was about to ask again when he received his answer.

"Hop on an express flight to Never Never Land."

"Where do you plan on going?"

"You mean will I turn myself in?" Nedry had a snide note in his voice.

"I wasn't thinking that," Muldoon said.

"If you were or weren't makes no difference to me." Nedry paused. "I don't know where I'll go—anywhere but prison."

"So you'll run away, evade the law, and be a fugitive." Muldoon wasn't totally surprised.

Nedry patted the grass beneath him. "Absolutely, I'll make the most of my free time!"

"You'll have to turn yourself in."

"I don't have to turn myself in."

"It's the right thing to do," Muldoon insisted.

Nedry signed in exasperation. "Screw that. I'm not going back."

Muldoon heard the edge in Nedry's voice that told him he meant what he said.

"You don't understand."

"Make me understand then."

"I hate it there," Nedry said in a low voice. "Time is frozen when you're locked up. I would say that minutes are like hours, but you don't even know what time of day it is. There are no clocks in your cell. The only way you know what time it is when you have meals, exercise time, or some work assignment. Even then, you just sit there bored out of your mind. I can't think behind bars. I can't use my mind. You do the same routine, day in and day out. Wake up at six in the morning, shower, dress, and stand at attention for roll-call; then get searched by some grubby-handed guard, who hasn't fucked his wife in goodness knows how long; and when they search you—sometimes they really search you— if you catch my drift. Privacy doesn't exist you're locked up."

"That's the price you pay. If you can't do the time—"

"I know; 'then don't do the crime'. Blah, blah, blah, I've heard it all before."

"It's something you should've thought about."

"I don't need to be lectured, Robert."

"Alright then, I won't 'lecture you'."

"Yeah right, you can't resist being self-righteous know-it-all."

"Continue," Muldoon said, not responding to Nedry's bait about him being self-righteous.

"You get nasty runny eggs, half-cooked or burnt sausages—depending on the cook's mood, orange juice that tastes like someone pissed in it—that's what they call breakfast. Menial chore like wash the damn dishes, sit in cell, lunch where they serve you some pig slop or a poor excuse for a garden salad—I found a worm in my greens once, you better believe I tossed that shit out. Then it's sit in your cell, maybe some time for exercise, sit in your cell some more, then you get dinner like macaroni and cheese…"

As Nedry bantered on, Muldoon wondered how much truth was present in his words. Did correctional facilities really serve macaroni and cheese? Did inmates really drink orange juice that tasted like urine? Muldoon had never once considered prison cuisine. Aside from wondering if his complaints were based on truth, Muldoon was under the impression that Nedry was hiding behind humor. Maybe it was easier for Nedry to joke about prison food than to honestly talk about what he experienced on the inside.

"…and if the facility's on lockdown, you can be eating bologna sandwiches for days on end. As far as meat goes, it's industrial meat, industrial chicken, or industrial turkey. It's bland with no flavor. For 'desert' we have fruit. Usually I eat an apple and call it a night. There's some time for recreation or time to make calls to the outside. Then it's—take a guess," he challenged Muldoon.

Muldoon shrugged. "Sit in your cell?"

"That's right, sit in your cell except after dinner they call it 'Reflection Time'. It's where you get to reflect why you're there in the first place and what you will do when you're granted your freedom. The first part, I don't give two craps about." Nedry shivered as cool air blew around the valley where they sat in darkness. "What do I need to reflect for? I reflected on the day I got arrested, I reflected on the day of my trial, I reflected when the judge slapped me with that lousy sentence, and I reflected as soon as I got to my tiny smelly prison cell. What more is there for me to reflect? I know what I did, it's said and done; no amount of reflecting or thinking or pondering or musing is going to change the past."

"Maybe it's not so much about reflecting about what you did as much as it is to get you to reform and repent."

"If I wanted to repent, then I'd go to church or join a monastery."

The tone of his words jolted Muldoon. After all this time, Nedry still wasn't sorry about his crimes. He asked him about this.

"What's there to be sorry about?"

"Never mind, Dennis." Muldoon shook his head. He was thoroughly disgusted. "You said you didn't want me to lecture and I can do more of that if you want."

"No, it's okay." If the truth were told, there were certain things that Nedry was definitely sorry for—but he would never admit it to Muldoon. He didn't feel he was on the level with him where he could just pour his heart out.

"Didn't you go to mass at the rehabilitation center?"

"I did it to get out of my cell. Nothing more. And it's called a prison."

"I recall the official name being called a rehabilitation center or correctional facility."

"A prison by any other name is still a prison. Same with raptors. I can call it 'the lizard in need of a manicure' or 'the intelligent fence-hopper' and you'd still know what I'm talking about."

"Yes, point well taken." Muldoon thought for a moment. He didn't know why, but he'd figured he'd ask anyway. "What songs did they sing during mass?"

Nedry looked at him funny, as though this was the last question he expected. "Why do you want to know? You think I actually paid attention—or that I actually belted out tunes?"

Muldoon picked at the grass in front of him. "I'm just curious."

"'His Eye is on the Sparrow'," Nedry mumbled, as though ashamed.

"That's a beautiful song, it's very encouraging."

"No, it's not."

"But it says, 'His eye is on the sparrow'. I don't think one has to be religious or believe in God to like it. It's uplifting."

"I don't like it because I'm not happy and I'm not free," Nedry said, twisting the grass in front of him. He grabbed a handful and threw it aside. "And even if there was a God, I doubt He'd be watching over me."

"What makes you say that?" Muldoon asked, noting the dark turn of their conversation. He had expected this to be more light-hearted, but he realized that something about that particular hymn had hit a nerve.

"I'm a traitor. Judas was a traitor."

"Judas hung himself," Muldoon said. Now he realized what Nedry was getting at.

"There's no redemption for traitors. Don't get me wrong—I'm not gonna throw a rope around my neck," Nedry added with a bitter laugh.

"How do you figure there's no redemption?" Muldoon asked seriously. He felt he was getting somewhere in understanding how Nedry thought; especially since he was deadset against him from the moment he discovered Nedry's betrayal at the east dock.

"No one wants any part of you. Everyone wants you dead or locked up." He was quiet as though thinking of what the words actually meant, now that he said them aloud. "Snitches get stitches," Nedry muttered.

"What?!" Muldoon looked straight at him, but Nedry kept staring down at the grass. "What the hell does that mean?"

"'Snitches get stitches'. Phrase I heard over and over again while locked up. A snitch—a traitor—is the lowest form of prison life. It's almost as bad as a rapist or child molester, probably much worse."

"So it exists as a code of silence."

"Yeah, and it's not just the inmates who live the code. The COs—some of them—do too."

"It's wrong," Muldoon said.

"It's wrong, but what are you gonna do about it? No one cares about people locked up. Behind concrete walls and rolls of razor wire, women, men, and young people in the system are seen as less than human. We're just crap in a toilet bowl that the rest of society wants to flush away," Nedry said morosely. "Sorry to be gross."

They didn't speak for several minutes. Muldoon closed and opened his fists and Nedry looked up at the stars. Muldoon decided to break the silence and discuss something that he hoped was lighter.

"What about what you want to do when you get out of prison. Isn't that the other part of 'reflection time'?"

"Thanks for reminding me." Nedry sounded cheerful again. "I'd like to have my computer license and certification back. That's my number one goal."

"Didn't you mention earlier that they let you do menial chores? In some prisons if you're well-behaved they let you do big things like lead orientations for new inmates. Work on the computers or teach classes."

Nedry shook his head violently. "I don't know which campy documentary you saw about jails. The prison staff never let me get close to a computer. The judge from my trial saw to that. They considered me a threat because I could crack computer codes. I just sat in my cell all day except for the few times I was allowed to go out and have meals and exercise. I used to wash dishes in the chow hall, but got pissed off eight months into my sentence with the whole thing because the pay was horribly low. I also had roaming privileges for awhile and then they took it away when I got into a fight with another inmate."

"Who started the fight?" Muldoon wanted to know.

"Who do you think did? Not I. I had to defend myself and I did. Jack-ass never knew what hit him. Don't look at me like that: he's totally fine."

"What was the fight about?"

"You want to know everything, don't you?" For a second, Nedry sounded annoyed; then he continued on with laughter in his voice. "The fight was over cigarettes. This dude wanted a smoke. Who do I look like? Ray Arnold?"

Muldoon couldn't hold in his laughter.

"I don't mean that in a bad way," Nedry assured him. "If Ray ever got locked up, he'd be the richest man in there. In the slammer, cigarettes are like cash—although some prisons are banning them, or not allowing tobacco in."

"Ray's my friend, but he does smoke a tad too much."

"He does, but in prison, it'd work in his favor. So anyway, here comes this big shot that used to be the president of a bank until he got greedy and embezzled the money. 'Give me a cigarette,' he says in his whiny Piglet voice. I said, 'I don't have any.' That wasn't the answer he wanted to hear and he got fist happy and threw a shot at me. I wasn't going to go down. I fought back and that's the end of the story. I think he was mad that I knew what he was in jail for. In the slammer, you don't ask anyone how much time they're doing or what they're in for."

Muldoon noted the excitement in Nedry's voice, and wasn't sure whether to judge that as a good or bad thing. "How'd you find out what he was in for then?" He didn't want to openly admit it, but he was intrigued by Nedry's prison experiences. He knew based on Nedry's complaints that incarceration was terrible, but Muldoon was fascinated by it. It was the same twisted fascination that Grant felt when he witnessed the cannibalistic raptors.

"He bragged about it during dinner. 'I'm in here because I duped the system.' What a dumb-ass. If he was so good at duping the system, why was he sitting in the chow hall with us? He duped himself."

"You did that too, bragging and all. Remember your trial? You couldn't stop grinning," Muldoon reminded him.

"Yeah I know, but this is different. He's doing it while locked up and that just threw the other inmates off. Anyway, to get back on topic, they took away my roaming privileges after that fight. Roaming privileges is when they let you walk up and down your cell block."

"So it's a break from the monotonous routine and you didn't feel like a caged animal."

"Yes, exactly. It's a break from reading the messages on your cell wall because that gets boring after awhile. You go in and read the messages that inmates scrawled on the walls before you and it's fun until you realize now it's time for you to leave your mark. You leave your mark because there's nothing else for you to do. No friends to talk to—because you have no friends. There's no trust in there."

"It sounds very bleak."

"Bleak isn't the word. It's hell on earth, that's what it is. After 'reflection time' it's lights out at ten p.m. Then you wake up at six a.m. and start the routine over again. You always hope the next day will be a little bit different—even if it's just slightly different, because then it'd make it more bearable. But it never is. It's never different and it's never bearable. Especially on weekends where you sit in your cell all day—unless you want to go to service or mass. And even then they can suspend your privileges to go to religious services if you don't behave."

"That's rough," Muldoon said, yawning.

"Yawning now? Did I bore you?"

"No, I'm tired; it's been a long day."

"It has. Yes, it's rough," Nedry agreed and yawned too.

"Don't visits break the monotony?"

"It does for a short time. There was that time you, Arnold, Hammond, and Gennaro came. Dodgson came twice and later on Sonya and Lopez disguised as transport officers when they busted me out. No visitors other than that."

"I'm sure visits make the time go faster," Muldoon said.

"They do, that's why I wish I had more of them," Nedry replied, "but I've been entertaining you with my 'Tales from the Slammer'. I'll tell you what it's really like."

Muldoon's eyebrows furrowed in confusion although Nedry couldn't see it in the darkness. "Okay, shoot," he said, wondering what Nedry would add that he hadn't already said.

"Imagine being in a place where you can never leave. Something is holding you there, be it physical force, someone lording over you, or because you have to be there."

Nedry's voice was very somber. There was no hint of glee in his voice as there had been when he told Muldoon about the fight he had with an inmate or how disgusting prison food was. He was the most serious that Muldoon had ever seen or heard him. He continued on, speaking quietly as though walking into a funeral with respect.

"Everyday you want to escape and you plan what you'll do when you finally get out, but you know deep down inside there's no way out. You'll stay there for years, your life will be threatened, you'll have very few happy days—so few that you're lucky if you can count them on one hand. The people you're stuck with are as miserable as you. Do you see what I mean now?"

Muldoon didn't speak for a long while, and when he finally did, his voice was barely audible. "I know exactly what you mean." And he meant it.

Nedry continued where he left off. The only sign that he acknowledged what Muldoon said came from his raised eyebrows. Otherwise, he didn't say anything about it, and Muldoon had a feeling that Nedry didn't know what to say about Muldoon understanding what prison was like. As he spoke, Muldoon was under the impression that he was forcing himself to sound indifferent.

"That's prison on a nutshell. I don't miss it and I'm never going back. I don't know how lifers manage to do their time in there. Can you imagine leaving as a free man in a body bag? You're free, but you're dead. Anyway, it's not easy."

"It's not supposed to be easy," Muldoon said.

"I know, but still."

"Maybe they, the lifers, get used to it."

"You can't get used to it," Nedry shot back. "It's impossible."

"Maybe some inmates accept their situation."

"I never did, damn it. I'll never accept someone telling me when to walk, when to stop, when to get up, when it's time to eat, and when it's time to take a crap. To hell with authority—they're not taking me with them."

"Yes, to hell with authority," Muldoon mused. He had a better idea of how Nedry perceived any type of authority.

Nedry ranted on as though Muldoon hadn't uttered a word. "They make you wear chains in public and people stare at you like you're some deranged monster. It's embarrassing as hell, but they don't care. Cuffs hurt like a bitch and shackles—I never thought walking could be difficult or painful."

"It's like walking a tightrope?

"Worse than that. You put all your concentration into looking down while you take these stupid baby steps, because if you don't, you'll trip and fall flat on your face. And don't think they're all too willing to help you get back on your feet. Sometimes the sheriff or CO or whatever the dumb-ass calls himself puts them on too tight and they tear into your skin. You tell them so, and they say, 'it's fine'. I hate it."

"That goes with doing your time," Muldoon pointed out.

"So what if it does?" Nedry said, angrily. "Everyone on the outside says that. 'They have no rights' and 'lock 'em up!' and 'they're wasting our tax dollars'. Meanwhile they're not locked in a cage—they can sleep peacefully at night without hearing someone screaming. You think days are bad, but nights are far worse. You hear the most horrible things. Inmates getting beat up; and other things I won't go into. Night is bad, and yet, that's one of the few times when you can cry—" He stopped himself as though horrified to what he just said. "Yessiree, some inmates cry during the night. At least you have your privacy and no one can see your tears."

"Don't the guards do anything about the violence?"

"In a perfect world, they would do their jobs right. Some of them do, and they're the decent ones. Others are on a power trip, and figure we're inmates, we broke the law, and this is part of our punishment."

"So in your view, the punishment doesn't fight the crime?"

"Depends on the crime," Nedry said. "I don't know…maybe it does…and maybe it doesn't…but I do know one thing."

"And that is?"

"I'm never going back."

Muldoon nodded. "I can't talk you out of that one."

"You wouldn't succeed even if you tried. Anyway, I said way more than I meant to say. Geez, I need a therapist." Nedry chuckled.

"One last question and then we'll finally put the topic to rest," Muldoon said.

"What's that?"

"How did you try to escape? The warden mentioned it after that visit."

Nedry looked surprised, and even in the darkness, Muldoon could see the shock on his face. "He told you about that?" He actually sounded embarrassed.

"Yeah, he said you tried to leave while with the chain gang. I couldn't wrap my mind around it."

Nedry sighed. "All I did was step away from the group. I didn't run because it's impossible to run when you're shackled. I took a few steps away from the group, a CO told me to stop. I took another step and heard them fire a warning shot. That was it. That was my 'escape attempt'. I don't know what the warden told you, but it wasn't as bad as he made it sound. If you take a single step in a direction that you weren't told to, then they consider that running away. At least, that's how I see it. Happy now?"

"Very."

"Good."

Muldoon closed his eyes ready to let sleep take him. He wasn't tired from hearing about Nedry's experiences, but he definitely needed time to process it. He didn't doubt what Nedry had told him, and yet, he wondered what his motives were for saying so much about his time on the inside. He also wondered if Nedry had ever told anyone on the Biosyn staff about his time inside. Did Nedry trust Muldoon or did he think Muldoon understood what it was like to be forced to stay somewhere that he wanted to escape from? Was he trying to paint himself in a sympathetic light so that he could manipulate Muldoon?

He didn't want to admit it, but the part about not being able to leave and being forced to stay somewhere had truly hit a nerve with him. Everything else was bad, but that took the cake. It's not like I have to stay there, I can leave, go back to Africa…Muldoon shook his head. He knew he had to stay on Isla Nublar. Who else would be able to tackle the position as game warden of Jurassic Park? And even if he wanted to leave for good, Muldoon knew Hammond and Arnold wouldn't let him. The thought always crossed his mind, although he had yet to tell anyone. He decided not to concentrate on it, at least not now. Muldoon opened his eyes and saw Nedry sitting, arms folded across his chest. He was thinking hard about something, what it was, Muldoon wanted to know.

"You got quiet," Muldoon said.

"I'm done ranting. I think we should try to find the coast tomorrow so we could get back to the park."

"We can do that right now." Muldoon got up and stretched. "Get a head start so that we find it sooner."

Nedry stood up and they started walking in the dark. "We don't even know where we're going," he said, worried.

"We'll just follow the moonlight." Muldoon pointed at the white light. "We also have one flashlight that works, so it can't be that bad. I don't think we're too far from the beach."

"You and your wishful thinking," Nedry joked.

They left the area and walked in silence, surrounded by blackness and listening to the sounds of nocturnal animals moving about. Muldoon stopped every now and then to tear out a leaf from a fern. He'd lay it flat and place a branch over it. "Hold on," he called out as he tore off a branch hanging low from a tree. It was almost the same height as him. With the branch, he marked an 'x' in the ground. He wanted to keep track of where they had walked so that they wouldn't wander around in circles. Then he caught up with Nedry.

"Good idea," Nedry said.

"Thanks. We don't want to get more lost than we already are."

They kept walking and Muldoon marked their path every three yards. In the silence, Muldoon's mind started ticking again. He thought of Hammond by himself in a hospital bed. He wondered if he was getting the proper care he needed. He was sorry about what happened to him and he was curious to know if Nedry felt the same way. Nedry had rambled on about prison life, but he had not expressed any remorse about his part in Hammond's accident, at least not outwardly. Even during their confrontation before nightfall, Muldoon wasn't sure whether to accept or reject Nedry's half-admitted regrets about what he'd done. He decided to say something about it and observe Nedry's reaction.

"I hope Hammond's okay," Muldoon said aloud.

"I'm sure he is."

"It's a shame what happened to him. We should've seen it coming. He showed symptoms of a stroke before it occurred."

"Sometimes you can't prevent things," Nedry said quietly.

They kept walking down the trail illuminated by the moonlight.

"Sometimes you can," Muldoon said with iron his voice. Finally, he had worked up his nerve to ask Nedry about that day. He had to know the reasons behind it. If nothing else came from their trip on this island, he wanted to at least know why Nedry did what he did that day. "Why'd you do it? Why did you let the raptors out?"

"I don't know."

"You do—there has to be a motive."

Nedry watched Muldoon mark the dirt, and then they continued on their way.

"I was against it from the beginning. There is no motive." He avoided Muldoon's piercing glare. "I'm not sure what answer you're looking for; but my story stays the same: no motive; and I never wanted to do it in the first place."

"Could've fooled me."

Nedry didn't speak. He kept walking and stopped every now and then as Muldoon marked a spot. Muldoon would never believe him even if he explained the debate he had with Raúl Lopez about going after the raptors, or how the team reacted when he had initially refused Dodgson' assignment. That's the consequence for being a traitor, he thought, no one trusts you. He could deny planning the whole disaster until he turned blue in the face—Muldoon would never believe him. Muldoon was starting again, and Nedry forced himself to stay calm.

"Then why'd you join Dodgson—why'd you work for him secretly when you were still with InGen?"

"That was for the money. John didn't—why are we talking about this?"

"Didn't know it was going to be such a touchy subject."

"You're asking questions that you know the answers to."

Now it was Muldoon's turn to be silent. Nedry had a point. Muldoon knew some of the answers to some of his questions already. Others, he didn't know, but he wanted to know, and he'd get his answers one way or another.

"Every man has a price," Nedry said. "It doesn't matter who you are. Everyone has a weakness that makes them do things they wouldn't normally do. For some it's money or fame. Everyone has an Achilles heel."

"That's not true." Muldoon shook his head. "You won't get me to believe that."

"Listen—"

"No, you listen! You're looking for an excuse to explain away your actions, just as you've always done."

"You're not even trying to understand," Nedry said. "You're quick to judge even though you've never walked a mile in my shoes."

"What's there to understand?!" Muldoon argued. "You betrayed the company you work for to get a lump sum of cash; you caused trouble on the island, not giving a bloody damn who got hurt—all in the name of greed."

"Fair enough. I let the lure of money get to me. But I'm saying: sometimes you do what you have to do."

"No—if you have any morals and backbone then you don't turn your back on the company you work for. You don't cozy up with the enemy and then expect to be welcomed back with open arms. You don't just 'do what you have to do' just because. That's a line of bloody bullshit if I ever heard it."

"I would never have backstabbed John, if he hadn't tried to screw me over first."

Muldoon blinked. His disbelief in Nedry totally solidified after hearing that line of garbage. "So now you're saying that it's his fault that you turned traitor? You really love blaming everyone for your mistakes, don't you?" He didn't hide the disgust in his voice.

"You don't know," Nedry grumbled. "You have no idea what he was doing back then. So back the hell off."

They walked quickly, their voices growing louder in the quiet jungle.

"You need to explain yourself better," Muldoon said.

"I've got a classic example for you. Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Ellie Sattler."

"Don't even go there." Muldoon stabbed the branch in the dirt.

"They're not at Isla Nublar for free," Nedry said. "If you think that, then you're really fooling yourself."

"I can't believe you'd be so low as to accuse them of being bribed to stay at the park."

"They're there to study lizards and plants up close—but Hammond had to do his part and offer to pay for their excavations."

"He's funding their Montana digs—" Muldoon said loudly.

"That's pointless considering Jurassic Park puts them out of a job." Nedry said, speaking over Muldoon.

"—not bribing them to be on the island. There's a difference. They're not corrupt. And Jurassic Park didn't put them out of a job; they're doing research there."

"Yeah, but do you think they'd stick around if they weren't getting paid? If Hammond didn't offer them six figures a year for their excavations, would they still offer to help him?"

Muldoon shook his head. "I'm not buying it. No pun intended."

"Of course."

Muldoon thought he heard the distant sound of waves crashing as they made their way down a hill. Could it be? He walked faster. Nedry stayed close on his heels.

"I have a better one for you. I'll lay off Dr. Ellie and Dr. Grant since they're decent folks."

"Good," Muldoon said. "What's your other example?" He wanted to see if Nedry could prove his thesis.

"Henry Wu."

Muldoon turned around, his eyes wide with shock. He couldn't believe that Nedry had the damn nerve to accuse Wu of being easily brought—and it wasn't the first time either.

"Don't look so shocked. He's a grimy geneticist."

"Stop." Muldoon held up his hand. "Stop right now."

"No, you asked and I'm answering your question. Wu's dirtier than dino droppings. He's a filthy man."

"You, of all people, are accusing Wu." Then it occurred to him. Nedry had some issue with Wu that occurred before his incarceration. "What do you have against him?"

"Nothing at all. He wants to be famous and will do what he can to achieve it. He's —"

"I'm not discussing this further. The end." Next he'll be accusing Arnold of selling out to Biosyn for a pack of cigarettes. Muldoon didn't want to hear anymore.

"—working with Dodgson. I've said this before, but nobody believes me." Nedry shook his head as though he pitied Muldoon for not believing him.

"And I still don't believe you. How dare you slander Henry's name like that?! You stop at nothing when—"

"It's not slander if it's the truth," Nedry said.

"You said once that the truth is in the eye of the beholder," Muldoon said, facing him now. "So how do I know you're not spewing out lies to me?"

Nedry nodded solemnly. "That's a good question. How do you know? You just have to trust me."

"Trust you?" Muldoon laughed bitterly. "Trust you? That's got to be the looniest line I've heard from you yet." He turned grave serious. "If you must know, I lost trust in you the day you turned your back on InGen—the day I found out."

"You'll never let me off the hook, huh?"

"Not when you keep making up tall tales about Wu working for Dodgson to make yourself look angelic."

"Once a traitor, always a traitor, I guess," Nedry said.

He shrugged and walked further down the path past Muldoon, who watched him carefully. He was talking to himself quietly and Muldoon heard snippets of his chatter. "Dodgson's the devil" was a phrase Nedry kept muttering. Whatever that's supposed to mean, Muldoon thought. Nedry stopped talking as though he sensed Muldoon behind him. Then he rushed off and veered to the right. Muldoon went after him wondering what had caught his attention.

"Dennis!" he called in the darkness.

Nedry didn't respond. Muldoon could hear him moving to the right, as he crashed through bushes and shrubbery. He followed close behind and abandoned his branch in the jungle. He stopped when he saw Nedry standing on a hill. Muldoon joined his side and he momentarily forgot about their recent argument.

"Look." Nedry pointed in the distance and smiled broadly. He too had let go of their quarrel.

The ocean stretched out in front of them. It was smooth as glass and glistened like onyx in the late hours of the night. The moon cast a silvery path on the water's surface. The waves gently crashed against the coast of the island, receded, and then crashed again. Both men looked towards the shore and saw jagged rocks, tall grass, and white sand. Without saying a word, they started towards a nearby hill that led to the land below. As they neared it, they saw a trail crowded by thick bushes, ferns, and thick vines.

"After you," Nedry gestured to Muldoon.

oOo

Darkness still hung over the island as Muldoon and Nedry rushed to the white sands on the beach. Beyond them, the ocean stretched out, so that the blackness of the sky blended in with the sea's horizon. The moonlight hitting the water created a long silvery path on the ocean's surface.

"Do you know what this means?" Muldoon could barely contain himself.

"It means we can get the hell off this island once and for all."

"Damn right. Tomorrow morning, we'll start making a raft. We'll make do with the trees on the island. Use some bark and vines."

"We have nothing to chop it with," Nedry pointed out.

"We have ourselves. We'll make it work."

Muldoon watched the waves meet the beach, recede, and then repeat their pattern again. He felt triumphant as if he had conquered the island. Can't keep us prisoners here forever, Isla Sorna. He looked around and saw Nedry curled up against a large flat rock.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to sleep."

"Same here." Muldoon sat down in the sand, and made himself comfortable.

"What will we do when we get to the park?"

"I don't know. I'm still thinking about our raft and how long it's going to take to get there. We're eighty-seven mile southwest of Isla Nublar. It'll be a couple of days before we get back."

Nedry yawned. "How long have we been stranded here? Prolly a month's gone by."

"I don't know. I lost track of time." Muldoon shrugged.

The moon was dipping in the sky, its bright light slowly fading as morning approached.

"Let's make our raft in the afternoon. It's almost morning," Nedry said, closing his eyes.

"Alright, you go to sleep. I'm going to stay awake and watch out for anything suspicious."

Nedry groaned. "What are you afraid of? It's just you and me. Unless some stray lizard is stalking us so that he can eat us for breakfast."

"I prefer to keep an eye on things."

"Mmm, paranoid. We should make a list of words to describe you just like we did me before."

Muldoon glanced at him. "I'm not paranoid. I'm a careful person."

"Paraniod."

"Fine, you win."

"Yes!" Nedry pumped his fist in the air. "Score for the brilliant hacker!"

"This is our task for tomorrow," Muldoon started. "You gather vines, the longer the better. They have to be strong vines, not little weak ones."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"I'll find some strong material to make our raft. It'll be a large raft, big enough to fit both of us—"

"Give it a break, Robert, and get some rest—and don't wake me up at the crack of dawn again."

"Good night," Muldoon muttered. He lay on his back on the sand watching the stars.

"Sweet dreams," Nedry said with a smile on his face. He was content to finally get some rest.

Muldoon lifted his head and turned in his direction, shocked at his words. He didn't just say what I think he did, he thought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. "Dennis? Answer the question. What'd you mean by that?"

Nedry's eyes were closed, so he didn't see Muldoon's fearful expression although he heard it in his voice. When is this guy going to relax? He's too uptight for his own good, he thought. "I meant," he said between yawns, "have a nice dream. Dream of chocolate bars, dream of blowing off a raptor's head with your fancy shotgun, dream of the park's opening day, dream of making it back to Isla Nublar safe and sound. How else do you think I meant it?"

Muldoon nodded and lay his head down on the sand again. "Just wondering…that's all."

"Paranoid," Nedry chuckled and minutes later, he was fast asleep.

Muldoon quietly ticked off the day's events on his fingers. From the nightmare he had, to splitting ways with Nedry, to falling down the cliff and busting his head open on the rock, and then to when Nedry saved his life.

He saved my life.

It was the first time Muldoon admitted this reality to himself. He didn't want to admit it, but he had to. If not for Nedry, he'd still be floating facedown in the river—dead. In admitting that Nedry saved his life, part of Muldoon's dislike for Nedry melted away. He still didn't trust him—that would never change—but he had a new refreshed view of him that wasn't as harsh as before. Nedry was now human in his eyes. A human being with personality flaws that got him in trouble with the law and other people, but a human being nonetheless.

He hadn't thanked Nedry because soon after he gained consciousness. Even now, Muldoon wasn't sure whether he should thank him upfront or just keep it to himself. Instead, he argued with him—probably because that was the most natural response when talking to Nedry. They discussed Arnold's smoking and his role in the park, Hammond's accident, Nedry's incarceration, and then they decided to go find the beach.

Both men had held back from each other, Muldoon knew. Muldoon didn't share everything and he had a feeling that Nedry didn't either. At the same time, he learned a lot about how Nedry viewed authority, his rambling about certain topics that bothered him, and also, the way he hid behind humor. There was a lot more depth to him than Muldoon ever expected. Most surprising of all was their ability to speak to each other on level. There were still tension between them, but at least they had been able to carry a conversation without exchanging punches or thinly veiled insults.

Then they had a semi-philosophical debate about morals and if people can be brought at any price. Muldoon still didn't buy Nedry's insistence that Wu had turned bad. He could never believe that Henry, one of Hammond's most loyal and trusted employees, would turn his back on InGen. He should let go of his vendetta against Henry, he thought. I'll have to see it to believe it. He didn't expect to see any signs of Wu's betrayal, because it was non-existent as far as Muldoon was concerned. Muldoon was more bent on finding out why Nedry betrayed Hammond, but he would find out in time. He was certain of it. Never mind that now. They had finally found the beach where they rested now. They'd return to the island soon enough, which was a good thing because Muldoon was sick of Isla Sorna. For now though, it was time for his mind and body rest. Tomorrow they'd start working on getting off the island.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured and the moment he closed his eyes, sleep overtook him.