Those Who Trespass

The boat slowly came to a halt at the east dock.

Dennis Nedry threw his backpack full of cash and computer gadgets on the rickety dock and then disembarked from the boat. He waved good-bye to the middle-aged man and his son. They had been kind to take him all the way to Isla Nublar. It was out of their way, about forty to fifty miles off course. Initially, they had hesitated taking him, until he showed them the suitcase full of cash. Nedry had given them the entire suitcase, he didn't need it. He had saved hundreds of thousands of dollars from his previous jobs for Lewis Dodgson.

He wouldn't miss the suitcase. Dodgson probably bugged it with a tracking device. If he did, then Nedry would've thrown him off course and paid his traveling expenses to get back to Isla Nublar—two in one shot. Nedry grinned; he was proud of the fact that he had pulled one over Dodgson. Goodness knows how furious Dodgson must've been when his lapdogs came back to him, tails tucked between their legs, and nursing their wounds.

Now he stood on Isla Nublar. Last time he was here, he had left, bloodied, bruised, and badly shaken up from his fight with Muldoon. That was also the last time he and Hammond had a confrontation. Nedry didn't like to think about it. However, he knew if not for that occurrence, he wouldn't have ever thought of returning to the island to warn the park staff. So maybe it was for the best. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He was on his own now and when he glanced over his shoulder, the boat had already left the dock. Now it was up to him to set things right.

Night cloaked the island and Nedry was able to make out the dirt path in front of him illuminated by dim yellow lights. He fiddled with the uniform's collar and looked down, performing a quick check-up on himself. There was no sign that he'd been shot in the chest with rock salt—back at the motel room and even before that, he made sure he looked and felt okay. He had also disposed of the gun from that night. Now he was ready to go. Nearby, he heard voices speaking rapidly in Spanish. Nedry saw four maintenance workers gesturing wildly with their hands. They stopped talking when they saw him. He watched them suspiciously to see what they would do. They squinted at him trying to place a name on his face, glanced at each other, and then back at him. He saw that they all had walkie-talkies.

Nedry shrugged off his fear. They didn't know who he was. For all they knew, he was just another maintenance worker walking the grounds. Dressed as them; he blended in. Or did he? He walked down the path when one of them called out to him in English.

"Wait—where are you going?"

Nedry didn't want to reveal his destination…the less he said, the better. "Staff lodge…visitor center."

A jeep with the JP logo on it pulled up next to the workers. They boarded the vehicle and then one of them turned to him.

"Need a ride?"

Nedry hesitated. After confronting Howard King, George Baselton, Roland Tembo, and a new Dodgson protégé named Eric Kirby in a motel room where they tried to kill him—he wasn't too eager to hop in a jeep with four strangers—even if they did work for John Hammond and InGen.

"Señor?" The man had already boarded the jeep and stuck his head out of the driver's side.

That was weird.

Why were they offering him a ride? Why were they at the east dock in the first place? He fully expected them to fight and stop him from going where he had to go. Did they know who he really was? Did they offer him a ride so that they could turn him in? What if they dumped him in the middle of the park and left him there? Did he really look like any other run-of-the-mill Jurassic Park maintenance worker? Nedry shook his head, trying to make the questions stop falling in his mind like dominoes.

"Señor?" The man asked again and shrugged. He pressed the gas pedal and the jeep lurched forward.

"Wait!"

The worker stopped the jeep. He glanced at the side mirror and saw Nedry waving his hand. He wondered if it'd be a mistake to take him in. He did look a lot like that guy on the paper that Señor Muldoon handed out. Then again—

The man next to him jabbed a sharp elbow in his ribs. The worker glared at him and his colleague quickly shoved a paper in front of him and put it away. The worker nodded in silent understanding. The man who had jabbed him got out of the jeep and gestured for Nedry to enter the front passenger seat. He gave up his seat and waited patiently. Nedry froze midway. The worker who was driving motioned him to come in and close the door, so he did.

"Where to?" The worker asked. "Ramón made room for you."

Nedry looked at him. The worker's toothy grin didn't reach his eyes; he smiled too hard. Thoughts tumbled around in his mind and a part of him felt ridiculous for overthinking the whole thing, but he couldn't stop. Maybe I'd be better off walking through the park; I know my way around. I'd be in control of the situation. I'd be safe. No, I should take the ride— "Staff lodge," he said, forcing himself to be content with the choice he had made. Of all the choices he had made in life, this was the least dangerous. At least no one would get hurt and he was doing it for the right reasons.

"I thought you said you wanted to go to the visitor center."

"Changed my mind."

The worker nodded and drove away from the dock. He smiled as he glanced into the rearview mirror.

The man known as Ramón watched the jeep disappear behind the trees. He reached for his walkie-talkie. Turning it on, he heard steady crackling.

"Señor Muldoon?"

oOo

"Thanks. Yes, I got it."

The walkie-talkie was tossed aside, landing on Nedry's old workstation.

"He's here?" Smoke puffed from a lit cigarette.

"Of course he is. I knew he'd come back."

"Should I prepare his room and board?"

A brief pause.

"You do that." A sleek black shotgun was snatched from the chair. "Meanwhile, I'll welcome our guest."

A dangerous looking dart with a fine silver-tipped needle was held up to the light.

"I know you wanted to do this for a long time now." Ray Arnold was about to exit the control room when he turned around one last time. "Don't have too much fun at his expense."

Robert Muldoon didn't look up as he prepared to load the darts into his shotgun. "I'll try not to."

oOo

"Right here is fine."

The jeep came to an abrupt stop in front of a five-story building. Nedry got out without saying thank you. The jeep drove away and he was glad to see it disappear down the road. The entire time he had wanted to jump out of the jeep. The workers had jabbered away in Spanish and kept peering at him when they thought he wasn't looking. He didn't want to think about what they were saying, since he couldn't understand a lick of Spanish. Then they got quiet as they neared the lodge as if holding a secret from him. Thankfully, he was separated from them now.

Irrational thoughts swarmed in his mind. He thought of the park staff. It was a mistake to come here. What good would come from it? How would they react when they saw him? Would they listen to what he had to say? He shook his head. Clear your mind, Dennis. You didn't leave on good terms, but you've come back to make amends for your past mistakes. Sins. What a load of understatements, his inner critic sneered. Like they'll forgive you. Fat chance. It'll snow in Hell before they listen to you.

"Enough," he said aloud and his doubts cowered in the corner of his mind.

Nedry looked up at the building; memories flashed before his eyes. How many times had he walked in and out of there with Arnold during the construction of Jurassic Park? Even better, how many times had Hammond called him in the middle of his sleep, demanding he come right to the control room? There was the time Muldoon got drunk and vomited all over the recreation room. Wu and Harding had cleaned up after him because if Hammond, or worse, if Gennaro had seen it, they would've been fed to the dinosaurs living in the park. Nedry smiled at the fond memories. Back then he was on good terms with the rest of the staff. He wasn't friends with anyone, but he also wasn't the traitor he'd later on become. It was his pre-Dodgson days and before the financial debates with Hammond had escalated into a longstanding feud.

Nedry's smile evaporated.

He wasn't here to shake hands and be friends. He was here for business. He had tried to distract himself from the obvious truth. The truth was they wouldn't be happy or relieved to see him. They would call that sadistic cop—Antonio Contreras—if they knew he was on Isla Nublar. They'd laugh as he was dragged away to get locked up. That was more accurate. After Hammond's accident, they wanted his blood. He had hit the point of no return. This was the lowest point he had ever been as he instinctively knew that it spelled out zero redemption.

Nedry turned away from the staff lodge. He wasn't apart of InGen anymore. Chances were he'd never work with them again. That didn't matter. He still had to warn them about Lewis Dodgson. He started towards the visitor center; it was only a half mile away. He'd get there in a half hour or less. As he walked in that direction, he pieced together in his mind what he would say to convince them that Biosyn posed a huge threat—and that he was no longer affiliated with Dodgson and his aggressive team.

oOo

Ramón faced a dilemma.

He had tried contacting Muldoon for the past half hour, but received no answer. Maybe Muldoon turned his walkie-talkie off or left it somewhere. Now Ramón didn't know what to do as the four figures clad in black clothes advanced behind him. He walked quicker and heard twigs snap behind him and leaves crunch. He knew that calling Señor Muldoon about the man had been a mistake because now he faced something far worse.

What did Señor Muldoon have against the man anyway? He seemed pleasant enough and didn't look like he was going to start trouble. No one could tell that to Señor Muldoon. Earlier, he had handed out papers with the man's profile and demanded that if anyone saw the man on the island to contact him immediately. It didn't matter what time it was. No matter how late in the evening or early in the morning—the workers were mandated to tell Señor Muldoon or Señor Arnold immediately. He did exactly that. Now when he needed to speak to Señor Muldoon again, he couldn't get in touch with him.

Ramón glanced behind him. The four figures were walking deliberately slow and towards him. He froze in place when one of them pulled out a gun and aimed at him. He turned the walkie-talkie on again and pressed the buttons. There was a faint hissing noise. His fingers jammed the numbers in a nervous rush. He might've dialed the wrong number and gotten someone else, but at this point he didn't care. He was desperate and frightened and wanted to get away as far as possible. Ramón sputtered into the walkie-talkie, hoping someone would hear him on the other end.

"Señor Muldoon—pick up!"

Suddenly a gunshot exploded in his ear and the walkie-talkie flew out of his hands. A hot burning and tearing sensation ripped through his hand that had held the walkie-talkie. Then a sticky substance flowed into his palm and he knew the bullet had grazed the back of his hand. He didn't feel the pain as he searched for the walkie-talkie and reached down to grab it with his intact hand. Someone pushed from behind and he fell on his side on the ground. A large black boot smashed the walkie-talkie to pieces.

Ramón looked up and saw them standing above him. One of them put the gun back in the leather holster fitted around their thigh. He breathed sharply when he realized it was a woman who had shot him. The other three figures were men; he could see their hard faces and large hands clenched into tight fists. One man, bald with cold eyes and pronounced cheekbones, flashed a badge.

Biosyn Incorporated.

Another man snatched the paper from the ground. Ramón realized it was the paper with the man's profile on it. He had put it in his pocket and it must've fallen out. The muscular black man handed the paper to the bearded man next to him. The bearded man took the paper and unfolded it. He chuckled to himself, but there was no goodwill in the soft laughter. He held it up to Ramón's face.

"Where. Is. He?" The bearded man growled.

"I-I d-don't know who—"

He heard the deadly click of a gun and his heart thudded.

"Where did he go? Don't bullshit me."

Ramón shook his head; the words froze in his throat. He tried to get up and felt a thick muscular arm wrap around his throat. He trembled and felt confined in his own skin.

"Have you seen this man?" Now it was the female asking him. She stood next to the bearded man.

"Who? What man?"

"The man in the fucking picture!" she shouted.

The arm around his throat tightened. Ramón nodded as best he could.

"Which direction?" the bearded man asked.

Ramón pointed in front of him. The arm around his neck loosened and he took in deep breaths. Three of the intruders start down the path. He slowly got to his feet, thankful that they didn't kill him, when he felt a sharp blow to his head. A low humming filled his ears and he slumped to the ground having no idea who his attackers were and who had invaded Isla Nublar.

oOo

Nedry slithered around the maintenance shed. The visitor center was in clear view a hundred yards in front of him. The lights inside the building glowed yellow and orange. The center was built in the shape of a crescent moon, and it was obvious that Hammond had spared no expense in building it. Miniature waterfalls were positioned on both sides of the white staircase that lead to the entrance. Above the entrance to the center was a design of dinosaur bones crafted from bronze. The lake in front of the center was surrounded by tall palm trees and tropical flowers. The visitor center was near completion, it was Hammond's work of art, his masterpiece. Nedry moved towards it until he finally reached the side wall.

Now at the center, he pressed his back pressed against the white wall of the building, remaining concealed by shadows. He looked at the entrance and almost lost his breath. Then he let out a hoarse chuckle. He thought he had seen a familiar fedora on the ground, which meant Muldoon was close by. Nedry took a deep breath—it's just a hat, nothing to be afraid of. Again, he felt annoyed at being overly afraid. He had done much worse before, what more could he do at this point? He moved forward, his back pressed against the wall while inching towards the center, where the staircase leading to the building's entrance was located. His steps were deliberately slow and planned, as to be extra careful to not to make noise. In front of him was the path that led to the park and other parts of the island.

The metal click of a gun resounded in the night.

Nedry held his breath.

Muldoon paced back and forth at the top of the stairs. He was directly in front of the visitor center's double doors and gripped a long black shotgun—the same type he used against the animals in the park. It had to be an Italian Franchi since it seemed to be the shotgun that Muldoon favored. Nedry wasn't sure if that was the make of the gun, but it didn't really matter to him. After his last encounter with Tembo, he hated guns. Nedry shivered, recognizing the weapon from his fight with Muldoon.

It wasn't just the gun that bothered him.

It was everything about the entire situation.

Muldoon was the last person Nedry wanted to run into. He knew they would encounter each other again; it was inevitable. But this soon? Nedry wasn't prepared. He didn't come to fight or to release the dinosaurs, or to hack into the park's security systems. He came to help and to redeem himself for all the trouble he had caused in the past. He looked again and saw Muldoon examining the gun.

There was nowhere else he to go. He had reached the end of his trip. Dead end. Nedry didn't view himself—or Muldoon—as a coward. He didn't come all this way only to turn back now or surrender himself. He wasn't a weak person and never would be. It was time to tell InGen the entire truth—even if it was coming from a liar. With this new way of thinking urging him forward, he walked until he had reached the stairway and was in clear view for Muldoon to see him.

oOo

Muldoon looked down the stairs at Nedry, who had come from afar to cause trouble again. Why else would he show up? He wasn't surprised to see him. Muldoon had patiently waited for this moment ever since the worker had notified him that Nedry was on the island. He had anticipated it ever since the day of the raptor attack. Now Nedry stood directly in front of him, by himself, without the aid of his Biosyn cohorts.

His heart thumped against his chest. He didn't stop to think if Nedry was setting him up, although he'd wonder that later. Right now, Nedry was in plain sight and perfect shooting distance. He expected that his tongue would have a will of its own and shout curses at Nedry. Instead, his mouth was dry like a desert and his eyes burned with thick rage. This is it, he promised himself. This'll be the last time the son of a bitch ever set foot on Isla Nublar. He took one step towards Nedry.

Muldoon raised his shotgun and put his finger on the trigger.

oOo

Their eyes locked. They were at a standstill, each man observing the other. Waiting for the other man to make the first move.

Nedry froze in place. He looked at Muldoon who also stood motionless. Nedry's eyes flickered to Muldoon's gun and then to Muldoon. Muldoon didn't say a word and this irked Nedry because he expected a response. They both stared at each other as if trying to get the other man to avert his gaze.

Nedry was the first to look away. He noted the scars on Muldoon's face. One scar started above the right eyebrow and went down his cheek, ending at his jaw line in the form of a lowercase "j" without the dot. His left cheek bore a short diagonal slash. Both scars were thick and pale red as if blood were waiting to burst from them.

Muldoon watched Nedry remove his backpack and place it in front of him on the ground.

"I have nothing on me." Nedry held out his hands. He waited for Muldoon to speak, shout, whisper, curse—to respond in any shape or form.

Muldoon didn't.

Nedry sighed. He climbed one step towards Muldoon, still keeping his hands in front of him. He stared at the miniature waterfall on his left side and then glanced at the whiteness of the steps and building.

Nedry's eyes locked with Muldoon's again.

Muldoon's steel blue eyes sizzled with hatred.

Nedry took another step.

"Don't. Move."

Muldoon raised the shotgun, his fingers itched.

Nedry took one more step, daring his adversary.

It was his last.

Muldoon squeezed the trigger. The thunderous gunshot shattered the silence.

A thick three inch dart embedded itself in Nedry's right thigh. Nedry stumbled backwards onto the path and then reoriented himself. He limped forward, then fell to his knees, and collapsed onto the ground. He squirmed in the dirt; his right leg writhed like a stabbed snake.

Muldoon grinned as he watched him struggle with the pain of the dart. When he spoke, his voice was toneless. "Finally got you, you slimy bastard." He let out a soft chuckle as he walked towards Nedry. At the bottom of the stairs, he kicked the backpack to the side.

Nedry heard Muldoon's approaching footsteps and in his extreme fear, he swore that the ground shook as he came closer. He gritted his teeth, trying not to reveal how much pain he felt. His leg felt as if thumbtacks had been shoved into every inch of his skin. After that pain, a new one took over: his leg felt as if someone had ran a heated iron over it, burning and frying the skin and muscles underneath. Nedry sat up slowly and reached over to remove the dart from his leg to extinguish the pain.

Another gunshot, louder than the first blasted in his ears. It sounded like a hammer slamming a nail down right in his ear. The painful sensation ravaged his left arm. Even as the throbbing pain overwhelmed him, he grabbed the dart and ripped it out of his thigh. He threw it aside and wiped his sweat-soaked face. A frantic thought rushed through his mind: what the hell is he shooting me with?! He reached over to remove the dart in his left arm, when Muldoon kicked his right arm, stopping him. Nedry sat still, petrified that if he tried to remove the dart again, he'd be shot in the face. He willed himself to move after a few seconds. Breathing hard, he got on his hands and knees, the dart still sticking out in his left arm. Nedry struggled to get to his feet, when Muldoon kicked him down. His jaw slammed into the ground and he ended up biting his tongue involuntarily. The metallic flavor of blood flooded his mouth. Nedry wiped his face and trembled violently. He was wondering how he'd be able to leave the island when he heard familiar voices above him.

"I told you to be nice, Robert."

"I was nice."

"Two darts? You call that nice?"

"Considering I could've pumped him full of lead bullets…yes, I'd say I was being generous to him."

"Fair enough—hey, I'm not complaining. I'm glad you got the son of a bitch. He had it coming."

Nedry shivered when he recognized their voices. He looked up and saw Arnold and Muldoon glaring down at him. Arnold acknowledged him by blowing smoke in his face. Nedry coughed and slowly got to his feet.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Arnold asked, pointing down at him.

"We could turn him over to the police, but I'd prefer to keep him around."

"What for?"

"He'd make excellent target practice."

Arnold laughed hysterically at Muldoon's idea and got halfway down to Nedry's level, when a glob of spit hit him in the face. He wiped it away and saw Nedry's eyes glazed over with rage. He was getting ready to spit again—on Muldoon.

"Spoiled sport," Arnold said; he puffed a chimney's wealth of smoke directly on Nedry. He nudged Muldoon, who had taken out his steel flask to drink. Arnold laughed as he wiped the spit off of his face.

"I bet you're thirsty, Dennis," Muldoon said, kicking him down. "Have a drink." He carelessly waved his flask around, spilling the liquor on Nedry's face.

"Look at him, he's pissed as hell."

"I can smell the smoke coming out of his ears."

"You mean you smell my smoke." Arnold waved his cigarette, the smoking drifting out. "He's angry. Ticked off."

"Bent out of shape," Muldoon said.

"Provoked."

"Steamed."

"Furious," Arnold added, now grinning.

"The bastard's bloody furious. Serves him right." Muldoon used his gun to poke Nedry. "Get up, lazy-ass."

"Be nice, Robert."

"I am being nice."

"Sure you are."

Muldoon walked off. Nedry watched as he left the area. Now he was alone with Arnold.

"You came back alone?"

Nedry didn't answer. He couldn't swallow or breathe. He hadn't come all this way to get shot down like an animal. At the same time, he knew something like this was going to happen. They weren't going to give him dainty royal treatment. He would be extremely lucky if they didn't throw him into one of the paddocks as food for the park's inhabitants. He didn't know what lay ahead and he tried not to over-think the possibilities. It was too scary to think about.

"It's okay to give the silent treatment. You'll talk soon enough…you always do. Just know that you're not leaving here anytime soon."

Muldoon came back with an army of maintenance workers. They surrounded him, Arnold, and Nedry in a large circle.

"Did you come alone?" he asked Nedry.

"I just asked him that," Arnold said.

"And?"

"And he insists on putting me on ignore."

"He won't do that with me." Muldoon pressed his boot on Nedry's neck. "You better talk or I'll shoot a dart in your bloody eye."

"Why don't you stop threatening him and get it over with?" Arnold asked.

"Because I'm being nice." Muldoon smiled, but there was no joy or sincerity in his jovial expression. He looked down at Nedry who glared hatefully at him. "You can give me daggers all you like…you're not going anywhere. You came here alone? For once, you weren't hanging onto Dodgson's coattails. Should I be shocked?"

"I know I am," Arnold said.

"You're brave, Dennis. Brave, but foolish to have come here alone."

Muldoon snapped his fingers and Nedry heard the unmistakable sound of guns being drawn out. Metallic clicks sounded and echoed from all around him. Muldoon kicked his stomach. "Get up. If you came all the way here from the States, then you sure as hell can walk."

Nedry slowly got to his feet; his right leg still burned and he couldn't even feel his left arm. It hung limply on his side, numb and useless. Arnold held his backpack and sifted through it before zipping it shut. Muldoon gripped his gun, his finger on the trigger, prepared and ready for anything. Finally, he looked around him…

Jurassic Park maintenance workers completely surrounded him—including the group who had given him a ride. They aimed their shotguns directly at him. He thought Tembo and Baselton were bad on their own, but now at least ten guns aimed at him by workers who wouldn't think twice about shooting him up. He realized now that it was a big mistake to come to Isla Nublar. A huge error on his part that could not be undone. Muldoon and Arnold would never listen to what he had to say. The cold butt of a gun jabbed him in the back.

"Start walking. All I have to do is snap my fingers and they'll shoot you in a second," Muldoon said through clenched teeth.

Nedry took meager steps. His right leg dragged painfully on the ground and he had to force himself to walk. He raised his hands high above his head so that Muldoon wouldn't have an excuse to shoot him. He hated every moment because he knew Muldoon and Arnold loved seeing him squirm. This is what they had wanted ever since they caught him at the east dock. Nedry had had his chance to get back at them when he invaded the island with Biosyn. Now they were taking full advantage of the fact that he was alone.

There was no one in his corner and as angry as he felt about the entire situation, he knew he had brought it about. This was no one else's fault; but his own. He should've known better than to return to the island alone. It was risky and dangerous, and he knew they wouldn't believe anything he had to say. He was a traitor, the lowest of the low. While incarcerated, he learned that a snitch was hated the most; hence the chilling phrase: snitches get stitches. He had betrayed Lewis Dodgson for the sake of InGen, and even if he was sincere about changing his ways, it wouldn't make an ounce of difference. To InGen, he would always be a traitor. He was the reason the park remained closed, he was the reason InGen got a bad rap in the press, and most of all, he was the reason John Hammond lay on a hospital bed, struggling to overcome the effects of a severe stroke. He would always have to live out the consequences of his betrayal. He was marked for life and no one else had brought that about except himself. Still, he hated the way they humiliated him and his rage grew even though he tried not to let it show.

"They'll put you out of your misery...or should I say, put everyone else out of their misery since that's all you bring here."

"That will soon change," Arnold said.

"It will…trust me, it will," Muldoon said, jabbing the gun in Nedry's back. "Walk."

The group vanished into the night ready to deal their version of justice to the new captive…