Chapter 11: Exodus

The rotors roared overhead as the chopper touched down, and the sound of the waterfall cascading down into the pool behind them filled his ears, blocking every other sound, including his own breathing. The pool of water at the base of the waterfall rippled violently and was forced to the edge of the rock face by the down force of the blades. Grass tore up in great chunks under his boots as he tore down the mud path, the sunlight beating down heavily on the back of his neck. Sweat poured down his face and coated his hands, making it difficult to hold onto the case which bounced around as he ran.

A tiny glance behind his back told him that Anderson had leapt from the driver's seat of the wrangler, and was charging up the small rise after him. The jungle behind them remained blank and innocent, but he didn't see that as any cause to stop, or even slow down.

Wu bent low as he climbed up onto the helipad to avoid the spinning blades and ran for all he was worth, the tarmac crunching under his feet. He hurled himself through the open sliding door of the helicopter into the arms of the crew, dressed in bright orange jackets, who hauled him into a seat and began strapping him in.

Even over the racket around him he could hear a voice shouting in English over the chopper's radio; it sounded adamant and frantic.

Anderson jumped in after him a moment later, his rifle aimed over his shoulder, just in case something snuck on them at the last moment. The crew grabbed him too and forced him into his seat, shouting to each other in Spanish rapidly. The pilot was shouting at them too, gesticulating furiously, and Wu wondered what the hell was going on. He clutched the silver case in his hand as the crew grabbed at handholds, and the pilot lifted the collective stick, causing the helicopter to lift off from the ground. The landing gear squeaked as they left the ground, and there was a brief whir as the wheels retracted into the body of the chopper.

The sound of the waterfall receded into silence as they soared into the air, the foliage below shrinking until individual trees became indistinguishable from each other, transforming into a carpet of greenery which painted the island surface. The sliding doors remained open, and nobody made an effort to close them, instead staring avidly outside, some of them leaning over to get a better look. The slipstream blasted in through the open door, ruffling Wu's hair and snagging at his clothes. He held the case tighter in his arms.

The pilot adjusted the sticks again, and they tilted forwards, and moved away from the mountains, down into the hollowed out cone of the island, maintaining a high altitude unlike before, which caused Wu to frown. He could just about make out the tiny blob which represented the island's lagoon, which was strange, as the lagoon was hundreds of feet wide; they have been at several thousand feet.

"What's going on?" he shouted over the roar of the rotors.

"We had to get you out of there immediately; they're here!" shouted one of the crew into his ear. His thick Spanish accent made it difficult to understand over the howl of the wind the thumping chopper blades.

"What?" shouted Wu, "who's here?"

"The US military, sir!"

"Here? Right now?" Wu said, looking towards the eastern shore of the island, looking for the freighter.

"Yes sir! They're firebombing the island!"

Wu spotted the freighter, exactly where it had been before, turned horizontal to the island a mile offshore. But his eyes widened as he saw half a dozen massive grey ships floating around it, dwarfing the freighter. There was an aircraft carrier, the biggest of them all, laden with aircraft. There were three destroyers circling it, and set off on either side were two frigates. He was surprised; an entire naval battle group had been assembled at the island.

Anderson tapped him on the shoulder, and Wu looked around. Anderson pointed off, out of the other side of the chopper. Wu unstrapped himself, and climbed over, and peered out. At the very northern tip of the island, skirting the peaks of the mountains was a v-shaped formation of black dots. As he watched they cleared the mountain tops and soared down cliff sides, and then levelled out, racing along the island towards them at great speed, only around a hundred feet off of the ground. Within seconds they had traversed a quarter of the distance between the mountains and the choppers. It was then that Wu saw that they were fighter jets.

"F-15's," shouted Anderson.

Now Wu could see the roaring afterburners at the rear of the jets, propelling them forwards. A second later the formation was halfway across the island, still heading straight for them.

Wu looked down, and saw that the chopper was flying over a massive field, lighter green against the jungle. He saw tiny figures moving around, like ants. But he knew that it was the dinosaurs down there; the herbivores.

He looked up again, and was startled to see how close the jets were now. And as he watched he spotted dozens of tiny black specks fall away from the bellies of the fighter jets in a long trail a mile long, plummeting towards the ground. A moment later the ground all along the trail erupted into a spectacular, massive fireball. The fire spread like a snake along the trail, starting furthest away from the chopper and spreading at a hundred miles an hour towards them. Acrid, thick smoke billowed up into the sky, and Wu couldn't see anything of the ground through the fire. The flames soared into the air, hundreds of feet up, and he suddenly realised why they were at such a high altitude. Even now, the force of the explosion buffeted against the side of the chopper, swaying them around inside. The pilot swung the stick around furiously, trying to maintain control. Wu could feel the heat from here, like harsh sunlight striking his left cheek, but it was almost as if the fire were only feet away.

The F-15's pulled up as they approached the chopper, and shot over the top of the rotors with only twenty metres to spare. The roar of their engines overwhelmed Wu's ears for a moment, and the chopper swayed again as the slipstream collided with them.

He heard the pilot curse, and they paused in mid-air for a moment as he regained control of the helicopter. Wu looked down, and watched as the field full of dinosaurs burst into flames, and the animals were engulfed in fire.

The jets darted out to the eastern shore as the helicopter tilted forwards again, and Wu saw that the naval fleet was much closer now; they were only a mile away from the eastern beach. The jets banked right, and skirted the shoreline down to the southern tip, which took mere seconds, their afterburners flaring powerfully. Then they banked again, and blasted forwards in a straight line, heading north. They fanned out, and Wu counted seven fighter jets spread out heading back towards them. Wu watched as the whole of the southern portion of the island was set alight, mushroom cloud shaped balls of flame floated upwards, making a screen of dark black smoke and red flame. The fire was like liquid; it spread forwards like water, a tidal wave rushing over the surface of the island, igniting everything in its path.

Wu looked down again, and he saw the main gate of the island; the large stone structure standing proud, which would have heralded the arrival of so many tourists.

But a second later it was lost in another wave of fire, and the jets swooped underneath them once more.

Wu couldn't help but feel a little sad as he watched the destruction unfold before him. The animals were a miracle of science, and were truly wild, a group of organisms from a bygone era. And they were innocent in their own way; they were just doing what they did. And there was no promise that these animals would ever be able to be created again. But this is what had to happen. And there wasn't anything that he could do about it.

He sat back in his seat, and looked down at the case in his arms as the chopper flew out over the ocean, leaving Isla Nublar consumed in flames.