Chapter 14.
"You had to go there, didn'tyou?" Lowery huffs, adjusting his glasses.
"Who put ants in his pants?" Owen laughs, turning to Claire…he coughs when she meets him with a shake of the head.
"I'm a techie; I deal with electronics, computers…things that consist of complex mechanics and servers. Instead, you tell 'em to forget all that and go with this," he pulls a small plastic square, tapping the top of it; the arrow spins round before finally settling on 'N'.
"Oh calm down, you'd rather have Wu catch us with his magic machinery? And if you're such a 'techie', then why didn't you set up some jammer type thing to mask it? I just thought that we – as a team - didn't want Wu catchin' onto us."
Lowery folds his arms, glaring through his lenses.
"I would've, but it would've taken ages and Root wants this over and done with asap."
"Maybe this is a good thing Lowery," Claire adds, adjusting the bag on her lap. "Fewer things can go wrong if we go without tech; y'know, we don't have to worry about a power supply, or…or…"
"Yeah, yeah," he bobs his head. "How long're they gonna keep us on this boat? I thought they'd dropped anchor a long time ago."
"Securing a perimeter?"
"Guess they're making a fire 'cos we're not allowed torches," Lowery mutters.
Owen's steel toe capped boot bashes lightly against his shin.
"Agh!"
"Stop it!" Claire smacks Owen on his shoulder. "My nephews're more grown up than you two!"
"He st-" Lowery stops when Claire arches a brow.
The door at the ned of the room swings open.
"All clear," a man clad in camo says.
The three join him in the hallway before heading out onto the deck.
"Everything's been set up so we can move off right away. Here are your maps," he dishes out pages of laminated A4 and small black boxes; "and manual flashlights."
"Really? Hand powered torches?" Lowery scrutinises.
"It's all we could work with after the no tech ban," Hoyte replies.
"Next you'll be tellin' us we'll be using tin cans and string to keep contact," Lowery grins, pushing the apparatus into his back pack.
"No, we'll just not separate," he says. "Plus we have these to signal for help."
He shrugs off his backpack and unzips it. On top of food rations and drinks bottles sit red tubes.
Claire's stomach flips.
"No. Those are staying on the ship."
"We have enough fire power to stop anything big that's attracted to them; they're for safety."
"Yes, but executives thought that Jurassic World was safe, and look how that panned out."
Hoyte's lips turn white. "With all respect Ms Dearing, it's our jobs to protect you and your merry band of…experts. So, if you don't mind, leave us t' do our job and we'll all get through this alive."
"All they're gonna do is attract attention to us," Claire retorts. "They'll just keep coming and coming until we…sorry, you have no ammunition left, and then we'll be back to defending ourselves with sharp sticks."
"Are you trying t' make my life as difficult as possible Ms Dearing?"
"No, I'm trying to keep everyone alive."
His lips slowly change from white to pink.
"Fine, we'll do it your way… but if and when we run int' trouble, you're gonna wish we had these."
"Well, if you do your job properly, we won't need them, will we?" Owen interjects.
"Oh like you did? My brother was part of Jurassic World's Animal Containment Unit, and he was mauled by one o' your raptors. So, why didn't you do your job when he was bein' ripped t' shreds?"
Owen focuses on the small crab running across his shoe.
"That was not Ow- Mr Grady's fault, but a lack of communication between his department and the lab, if anything, blame me…but not him."
"I'll blame whoever I like. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got t' go and brief my guys."
He turns their back on them, pacing over to the group of men in black.
"That was way outta line; what an asshole," Lowery says.
Hoyte looks over his shoulder. Lowery's eyes move to the treeline.
"We're movin' in five!" Hoyte shouts before turning his back to them once more.
"You good?" Owen addresses Claire.
"Yeah," she replies. "The sooner we get in there, the sooner it's over, right?"
He bobs his head, "plus, this time you won't have to cover yourself in dinosaur poo!" his lips stretch upwards. The mixture of her vanilla lotion and excrement was an odd mix, but the memory of it doesn't being back bad memories.
Lowery frowns; looking to his boss, then the raptor trainer.
"Last time…ah never mind," Owen attempts, but shakes his head instead.
"Hey, whatever you guys are into," he smirks before striding off.
Owen's knuckles turn white.
"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" Claire asks, turning her back on the ocean.
"Yeah, of course we are. Why? Something bothering you?"
"I just got this feeling that we're going to do something that's going to bite us in the ass?"
"Well, in all honesty," he rubs the back of his head, "we can't know that. We'll just have to be careful."
"But what if that's not enough?" she turns round and finds herself millimetres away from him; the scent of his cologne – surely that'd draw attention to us – makes her skin prickle.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just chilly," she breaks the trance and moves away.
"Hmm," he tips his head upwards, briefly noting the slight damp patches on her back.
Claire's walking boots barely fill the footprints left by the Mercs Root sent with them. Owen within an arm's reach behind her and the Mercs armed so heavily, Claire's stomach settles and she continues on. Lowery heads the group, on navigation duty, closely followed by Hoyte.
The other men have names, but she can't quite pin them to faces just yet. Like in her position at Jurassic World, her job was to get it done, not become best buddies with every employee.
But then she became the punchline for ninety percent of the jokes, what's ginger and has no feelings? An orange? Nope. The Boss. Oh how they laughed. She didn't have their respect…did they ever compare me to the Indominus? No respect, just pure fear? She wraps her (Owen's) hoody around her. She was a loner; she ate her sibling – but Karen doesn't have to worry about that-
"What'cha laughing at?"
"Huh?"
Owen repeats his question. The Merc in front of her briefly turns to face her, but then faces back front.
"Oh, nothing."
"You okay?"
Will he ever stop asking me that?
"Yeah, you?"
"Pretty sure there's a tonne of sand in my boots...oo…and a stone, but as good as ever."
"Hey," one of the Mercs says, "how long've we been walking?"
Hoyte pulls up a sleeve.
"Two and a bit hours," he replies, he holds up his arm.
The line grinds to a halt.
"Has anyone had any sign of a hostile?"
The long line of faces twist side to side.
"How about you, Raptor trainer? You seen any tracks?" Hoyte calls out.
"He was in the Navy, not the Navo!" Claire snaps.
"Sorry!" Hoyte replies.
"Nope, nothing," he moves forward, inching towards Claire.
"You know Velociraptors best Mr Grady, is there any chance that we're being followed?"
"That's the thing about raptors, Hoyte,' he replies. "You never know until it's too late."
"Well, doesn't that just fill you up with confidence," Lowery sighs from the front.
"We know where we are, for sure Mr Cruthers?"
"Without the ability of GPS, I can't be one hundred percent but I think that we're about here," he jabs an area on the laminated map, making it shudder.
"An approximate's better than nothing. Few night viz gadgets means no movement until the dawn, we'll set up camp just below the canopy for safety, where those little Compy shits can't get us. Ross, Doyle, you two've got the gear. Let's get a move on before it's too late."
From the report descriptions that Owen – shouldn't've – looked at, he expected to see for miles…or at least a few long necked giants from millennia ago…Getting slapped by vegetation every three jittery steps along a branch was not what he wished for. The tarp above them crackles slightly in the breeze, the smell of damp wood clings to their clothes and nostrils.
He slowly leans back on the trunk, straddling the wide branch for balance and untying a loop of rope.
"Need a hand?"
"Yeah, thanks Lowery," he replies.
"So…." He begins, whipping the end of the rope round in a circle.
"So," Owen parrots.
"How are you doing?" He finally finishes.
"Good, and you?"
"Yeah, fine."
Lowery lets go, the rope flies around the trunk and smashes into his left arm.
"Dammit!"
Owen's lips curl upward.
"That hurt," Lowery scowls.
"I got that…never mind."
He flings the rope around the trunk once more, before securing him in with a double knot with a quick release.
"You think that this'll be alright, right?
"Pfft sure. Look, loads of movies have heroes stuck in a dilemma with seemingly no way out 'nd they always make it so…it'll happen, okay. We'll keep on powerin' through until its done."
"God I hope you're right," Lowery says, before climbing down on another branch below.