Ian stirred blearily, vaguely aware of a sense of movement.

"I'm getting pretty tired of hauling you around all the time," he heard a voice.

He blinked, blinked again, and by the third blink, he was pretty sure that he was not in the jaws of a Tyrannosaur. Still, there was only one way to make sure.

"Ugh...wha..."

"What happened? Well there you were, about to get snapped in half, and the next second you'd passed out or something. You have to stop doing that."

"Sorry,"

"And then I had to lug you around with me again, and, y'know, you're pretty heavy for a skinny guy."

"So... have you thought anymore about a plan?"

"Me?" Grant snapped. "You could probably help if you weren't so busy being incessantly unconscious."

Ian was quick to anger, in even his groggy state. "I said sorry. It's not like I can help it. I didn't ask to come here."

"Yeah, like I did?" was Grant's almost sneering reply. As close as the guy got to 'sneering', anyway.

"You had a choice."

"It wasn't much of one. And I wouldn't have had to if you didn't piss off whoever brought you here!"

"I didn't do anything!" He was certain he didn't, even if he couldn't remember the exact details. "It was me as easily as it could have been you or - or anyone!"

Grant scoffed. "So it was just pure, simple luck that it happened to be you? Out of all the people on the plane? Right."

"They want the vials!"

This statement was a sure-fire argument stopper. Both raised voices suddenly went quiet as they processed this.

Ian furrowed his brow, trying to recall this snippet of information that had unexpectedly come to him. "Yeah... yeah that's it. That's why I'm here. They needed a code to get into the freezer room. They want that DNA."

"They needed a computer code, so they asked you?"

"Hey, I'm not that bad with the things!"

"No, I mean… I just thought they'd be able to get it themselves, I guess."

"I don't know. I think there was some kind of trap door program that prevented them from getting into the system,"

Grant shook his head slowly. "Wait, this hardly makes sense. I mean, the freezer room ... there's no way the vials are still in working order."

Malcolm shrugged. "It wasn't the vials they were after. They needed to crack the computer system."

Alan was thinking furiously now, yet he still couldn't make sense of much. "Why do they need the code, if the vaults have all been destroyed? What could they get out of it if there is nothing of any use there?"

"Maybe," Ian started, "you're thinking too locally,"

"So you're saying what they want isn't here?"

"I'm saying that perhaps this code works for any of the InGen systems."

"Oh my-..." Grant uttered in disbelief. "You think Hammond kept backup DNA?"

"I'm almost positive,"

"What was he going to do with it, create a franchise?!" Looking back on the situation now, Grant felt like an idiot for ever thinking that what Hammond was doing could be a good thing, even just for the first few minutes. There he was, someone who explores history, and he hadn't even been worried that the things he had been digging from the ground just a few weeks prior were reality. He had been...excited. He supposed he had to give it to Ian for being sceptical from the start. He was right, and at first, he had been the only person to voice such anxieties. Yet, although he had talked about how much of a bad idea it was, and how naive everyone was being, and he warned about how it would all backfire and bite them in the arse, there was an unmistakable sense of school-boy enthusiasm when he had witnessed a baby dinosaurs first glance of the world, and when he was so close to a triceratops that he could actually touch it. (Alan had also noticed his flirtatious manor when he had first met Ellie; that much had not gone amiss.) Grant had always suspected that, although he would never admit it, Ian was as excited about the project as everyone else had been at first. However, that had all changed.

And despite the fact that Hammond himself had admitted that Jurassic Park was not a good idea after all, there had always been this nagging feeling that he hadn't seen the end of it all.

As far as he knew, what was happening now had nothing to do with John Hammond, yet this didn't make the feeling go away.

"You know he'll never learn. Some people just don't," Ian sighed. "He could have destroyed everything. The plans, the blueprints, the technology... the DNA, even... but I'm pretty sure it's all sitting somewhere in the InGen headquarters, safe and sound, while we're here yet again, trying to prevent the same mistake being made. It's pointless. There will always be someone who wants to do something this stupid, as long as humans roam this planet."

"Do you know that they're going to re-create the dinosaurs?"

"No, but I can't think what else they'll do with it apart from maybe sell it onto someone else who will. And even if not, there's always the chance that it could get stolen or something. As long as it's around, it's dangerous." He now sighed, sure that he had already said something along the same lines the last time he was here, and it seemed to make little difference. He was tired of pointing all this out when he wouldn't even have to if people could just think outside the box before going ahead and doing whatever it is they wanted to do. "Do you ever feel that sometimes, things should just be left alone?"

Malcolm huffed noisily, scrambling to keep up with his determined, if not slightly naive cohort. He was exhausted and his legs ached like crazy. He could feel the muscles in his upper-thigh strain with each relentless step and wondered if it would just be better to keel over forwards and rest for a few hundred years. He certainly felt like he would, if things continued as they were.

Ahead of him, Grant continued his strides, trying desperately to give the impression that he was unaffected by the amount of walking and lack of food, drink and sleep. He wasn't fooling anyone, though; Ian could tell from his weakening pace and increasing gasping that the situation was starting to take its toll on him as well.

And why not? Alan was human. He may not like to admit it, but he couldn't keep going on directionless forever.

After talking it over, they had both decided that they needed more than ever to get back to the main building. It was dangerous being out in the open and they also needed to prevent the wackos in black from gaining hold of any information that could aid them in the unlocking of the computer systems.

Just how they were going to go about doing this had not really been a point they had delved too deep into, although, in reflection of the conversation Malcolm decided that it was a pretty important point nonetheless.

So they had set out to get to the building, take down the organisation and get the hell away from Nublar. A plan, or a course of action would be a useful thing for such a goal, but neither of them could think of anything and presumed it would come to them.

It didn't come to them.

And they continued despite this, against Malcolm's better judgement.

Ian wasn't sure how long it had been since they set off. He was aware of changes in their surroundings, yet it all looked pretty similar, anyway. Between breaks and naps, he also noticed that since setting off, the sky had grown dark and was becoming light once again.

Basically, they had been walking a while.

During that time, they had come across many different kinds of creatures, each one amazing and disappointing the mathematician at the same time.

He had not done much walking on his last journey. (In fairness, his injured leg made doing that a little complicated). As a result, he hadn't had the chance to actually witness the wondrous things first hand. (Except the carnivores, he'd had his fair share of them).

At one point he had even stopped to look over at a herd of duck-billed creatures, eating foliage from tree branches and bushes resting on the grass.

They stood about 15 feet tall, on sturdy back legs. Some were pacing about the area, walking on all fours with shorter forearms and hoof-like nails on their feet. They had huge, bulky bodies which were covered right up to their stiff tails with thick, greeny-yellow scales.

Watching them as they were seemed almost relaxing. They were so calm and care-fee - it really wasn't very fair.

Grant turned when he noticed he wasn't being followed, and stalked softly behind Ian. The sight had pretty much the same effect on him, and for a long stretch of time neither man said a thing.

"The hadrosaurus - they're so peaceful,"

"It's... spectacular to see," Alan agreed.

Ian shook his head glumly. "They shouldn't even be here,"

And yet, they were.

They didn't seem particularly bothered that they were in all aspects defying the laws of nature. They didn't lose sleep wondering why they were there and what their purpose was.

Perhaps he was just too philosophical. Ian often tended to get caught up in deep thought about things which would never change anyway. He even more often found himself preaching these thoughts to anyone who will listen and even those that won't. It couldn't be helped.

They had continued shortly after this break, stopping only a few more times in the day to watch more dinosaurs. Malcolm couldn't deny that he was intrigued. Watching them, watching their behaviour and mannerisms and just the things they did was something that not everybody could claim to have done. He knew Grant must have been going crazy without a notepad and a pen. It was exciting to be able to watch the creatures he had been studying for past few years - especially when he had been studying their extinction. This, however, only filled him with more determination that they should be extinct and the simple fact they weren't was bad. And it couldn't continue, InGen should not have the technology because it's just not right.

Apart from these unscheduled stops and the occasional break and short sleep time, there was only one other time Grant and Malcolm had paused their trek.

It was outside what appeared to be a run-down looking grey structure - sort of like a brick shed. It was about two meters long each way and didn't look at all interesting. Ian guessed it must be a maintenance building or something like one. They had spent a few minutes trying to get it open, but gave up quickly, deciding that it was probably filled with so-called 'useful' things like can openers. (The problem with those being that you need cans to open.)

Ian peered up at the dim sky, watching the colours gradient and merge. It was strange how the process from dark, ebony night sky can change into a sunny pale blue within an hour right above you, and yet you never see it change.

Yeah, he got like this when he was bored.

"Grant?"

From a few meters ahead of him, the figure turned, tipped his hat skywards for a better view and answered simply: "Hmm?"

"Where are we going?"

He shrugged. "Got me."

Ian adopted a pensive expression, unsure of how to take this. After a time, he merely shrugged and persisted to follow the palaeontologist.

"So the building is on the other side of this river?"

"Yep."

"So we have to cross it?"

"Yep."

"Have anything in mind?"

"Nope."

Grant stared out across the water. It was pretty, the way the sun cast dancing sparkles on the surface. The stillness of the water was almost calming, even with everything that was going on. Next to him, Ian was sat, rolling his trousers up. He gingerly dipped his right foot into the water, like he was testing the temperature. Grant knew why he was actually reluctant, because the thought had crossed his own mind.

How did they know something wouldn't bite their feet off?

The truth was that he didn't, but he would take his chances, as he didn't really want to dehydrate.

It was really hot. For half the time he couldn't see straight because of the amount of sunshine in his eyes, and for the other, he couldn't think straight because the heat was making him tired and apathetic. It wasn't the best climate to be stuck where they were, but Grant was used to all kinds of weather because of the amount of time he spent travelling. He was a little concerned for Malcolm, though. His thick black clothes were maybe not best suited for the kind of weather they were experiencing. He was paler than usual, and he was sweating a lot and Grant noticed that his lips were dry and cracked. However, he seemed okay, and there was little anyone could do at that time anyway, so he pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

Malcolm was feeling more hungry than dehydrated. His stomach had been growling in protest at the lack of food all day, and it was actually causing him physical pain. How he longed for a McDonalds. But he had found out, to his mild surprise, that there were no McDonalds' in what was - in effect - an isolated, pre-historic island.

Which was a shame, really, because he could have really done with a Big Mac.

He knew there was food at the main building, and this fact alone was basically the only thing that was driving him to go back. Because he really didn't want to go back.

Not that Grant would have any of it. He was so determined that it would help them to get off the island. Two men who were effectively drained and weakened by a trek around a dinosaur-ridden land mass against god-knew-how-many armed men who were on guard and most likely healthy (physically at least) were not odds he wished to wager on.

They were - well and truly - screwed.

This wouldn't stop Alan. He was one of those 'die trying' people that Ian both loathed and admired at the same time - and that could get a little confusing, as he had quite quickly learnt.

"Okay, so you're the mathematician; how is this gonna work?"

Ian had to take a few minutes before answering to work out what being a mathematician had to do with knowing how to cross the river. He failed to come to any kind of conclusion and frankly it made his brain hurt.

Grant tutted. "Come on you're supposed to be the intelligent one. How did you ever gain your qualifications?"

Ian leaned back against the bank, his hands covering his face and muffling his voice slightly. "I dunno. Slept with the teacher."

Alan grinned and shook his head before remembering that now was not the best time to be cheerful, or even anything like it. "We could always walk around the water. Take longer, though."

"No, we don't have longer. I'm for a quick-fix solution."

"Okay; think of one."

Malcolm sat up and tried to concentrate, frowning in a thoughtful manor. Although this didn't help him think, exactly, it gave the impression that he was and so was better than nothing. His eyes lit up in a sudden 'light bulb' moment.

"A raft!"

"That's great, Ian! A raft! Why didn't I think of that? You know, now the hard part is out of the way, all we have to do is FIND ONE!"

Ian didn't like his tone. Partly because he preferred that the sarcasm was left to himself and partly because Grant was right. He exhaled noisily and stared up at his friend. "Good point."

The two were silent again, each mulling in their own thoughts.

"Hey," Ian spoke by way of breaking the stillness. "You don't suppose Hammond left stuff around here for a situation such as this?"

"No, not really."

"Think about it. They're working out here, maybe even before they put the dinosaurs on this island. They're gonna need to get across, right?"

"They had cars for transport. And what, do you think there's just gonna be some conveniently placed shed with a raft and some oars?"

"Actually." Ian placed an arm out onto the grass and rose to his feet, ignoring the tingling sensation shooting itself down his right foot from the way he had been sat. He strode purposely off around the river.

"Ian? Where are you-?" Grant sighed. It was a waste of time, he knew it, but he wanted to believe that Ian was onto something. He stood, cast one last look at his surroundings and chased after his friend.