Chapter Eleven
Clint sat slumped in his chair and watched the dust motes in the shafts of light that shone through the vents of the control room, like diagonal pillars of gold. The gentle way in which they drifted was soothing, made him feel calm. A hell of a lot calmer than he had been recently. He dragged his eyes away from the light and looked about the room, peering through the gloom. A pang of nervousness hit him when he realised he was alone, the room completely empty except for him. Panic quickly set in, made worse when a creak on the wooden veranda boards drifted ominously through the door, a creak that sounded like something very heavy had trodden on it. He tried to sit up but found himself unable to wriggle free of the chair. When did everyone leave?
A figure appeared at the far end of the room, and his fears began to leak away. It was Gail. She was tossing that loaf of bread between her hands as she leant against the far wall. She looked at him, and those eyes of hers that twinkled made him feel warm inside. She smiled at him, and he felt the warmth spreading. She pushed off from the wall and sauntered towards him, a coy smile on her face. Her hair was free of its pony tail, and it fell about her shoulders in dark cascades. Her shirt was undone for some reason, and Clint could see she had nothing on underneath. Her pale skin looked inviting, tantalising, the curves of her body smooth and flawless. He realised he was staring and looked at her eyes, feeling ashamed. She just smiled at him as she drew level with him, squatting between his legs and resting her hands on his knees, her finger nails dragging ever so slightly on his thighs. What had she done with the bread? He tried to speak but she put a finger to his lips, letting it trail down his chin, across his chest and down, down towards his belt buckle. He started to squirm, not quite sure he could believe what was happening. Her lips parted slightly, suddenly so red and full. He was sure they had looked dull before, a bit cracked maybe.
He closed his eyes, anticipation building as her hand plunged beneath his pants. When he looked again the twinkle in her eyes had gone. Instead they were cold, like two flints. Steely eyes glared at him, her face suddenly growing dark. Pale flesh, so smooth, was replaced by the black of a shadow, like tar pouring over her. Those eyes, he knew them. He remembered them. She grinned at him, and then her mouth began to split at the edges. Horrible red tears spread out across her cheeks, ripping through her face. Teeth, large and sharp burst through her skin, pink gums splitting as more rows of teeth fought their way free. The skin of her face began to fall away in tatters as the maw of a monstrous, horned head tore its way out.
Outside the roar of the hurricane battered the building, threatening to tear the walls away and crush him, drown him. The room lurched, as if a great wave had slammed into the hills and was sweeping everything away. The teeth came closer, dangling bits of flesh hanging from each pointed tip. A sudden burst of light, unbearable and fiery, engulfed him, shrivelling his flesh and searing his eyes.
"Clint.'' He jerked awake, taking a sudden breath. He sat upright in his chair, still waiting for the teeth to close on him. Except there were none. Just the still, quiet control room and BB's big stupid face looming into his view. The big man smiled at him, a large hand on his shoulder, patting him just a bit too firmly. "Clint you are asleep,'' said BB. "You sleep and talk funny.''
Clint coughed, nodding as he pulled BB's hand off him. "Yeah, I do BB. Thanks.'' Fuck, what the hell was that? He shook his head, trying to clear the images from his mind. So vivid. I could have only have shut my eyes for a moment.
He looked around. BB was sat beside him, with Williams propped up on his elbow beyond, the Captains own eyes were closed. Looked like he was maybe asleep too, judging by his soft breathing. There were the others too, sat about the control room. Some talking quietly, other moving in and out of the room. And there was Gail, leant against the door frame watching the woodlands opposite. Just a dream. Just a dream. He let his eyes rest on her for a moment, not sure whether to admire her or be terrified she might turn into a monster. Just a dream. God's sake Clint.
He leant forward and rubbed his face with both hands, his eyes itchy and sore. Puffy too. Not surprising. Can't remember the last time I even properly slept. A low groan escaped him. He could feel the aches in his body returning, replacing the bleary horror of his dream and demanding attention. His arms hurt, as if he'd been pulling on an anchor chain for an hour. His feet were throbbing in his boots. He could feel they had swollen from the heat, and he dread to think about the odour if he dared take them off. He rubbed at his arms gently, kneading the muscle. Seemed helping his Captain climb a rusty metal elevator frame was harder work than he imagined. A flurry of nerves twitched their way through his guts as he remembered what is was like, climbing down to help Williams, seeing the jaws of those things below, desperate for them. He rubbed his face again, trying to forget them, to forget the dream.
He pulled his flask from his pack and took a slug of warm water, sour to the taste. Good enough for now though. He got to his feet and stretched out his arms, flexing his fingers. Trying to coax a bit of feeling other than soreness into his limbs.
Not far to go now though. Not far.
Someone entered the room, muttering to themselves. It was Ogawa. The man was now leaning over a lit computer terminal, tapping away swiftly at the keys and cursing periodically. Clint peered over his shoulder, noticing the gleam in his dark hair, slick with sweat. The screen revealed various boxes containing a perplexing series of numbers and words. Ogawa seemed to be punching in various commands, deleting them, trying again. Jesus look at this guy go. Is he a robot or something?
Ogawa tapped out a few more lines of code and then waited. The monitor beeped a few times and then a small icon started flashing in a new box.
"Finally!'' he said, standing up straight and clapping his hands above his head in triumph. "Ladies and gentleman! The next tour will be leaving in ten minutes! Grab your belongings and make your way to the elevator! We are out of here!'' He made some sort of hooting or beeping noise of his own and made his way out of the room, almost with a skip. Definite robot. Freaking computer nerds.
There was a chorus of murmurs and nervous chatter as people began to stand and move about the room, grabbing their packs or fussing with other items. Viv was shaking her head at Ogawa as he left, closing her eyes as if in exasperation. BB was sat cross legged on the floor now, watching everyone move with a sort of confused amusement. Williams, now awake and suddenly springing to life again, was trying to pull the big man up under the armpits and tutting at him, like a mother hen. BB went on smiling.
Clint grabbed his own pack and shuffled out onto the veranda behind Viv. Outside, people were beginning to fan out or move along the veranda towards the hut where Sidney and Ogawa were waiting. Clint could hear the mechanical whir of the elevator pulleys. The noise was oddly comforting. Clint noticed a figure leant against one of the supports of the veranda, a thin cloud of smoke wreathed around it as it stood in the shadows, watching the group. His heart picked up a pace or two as the figure's head turned to regard him for a moment, the edge pf the shadow falling diagonally across a hard face. Why do people in the shadows constantly have to haunt me?
The orange glow of a cigarette burned for a moment and another cloud of smoke billowed from dark lips. Clint could smell the irresistible pull of the tobacco, and found he had taken a step towards it, drawn so easily. Carlos gave him a sneer of smile as he moved out of the shadow, running a hand through greasy hair and finding a more comfortable spot to lean against. Silently, he offered the pack to Clint.
"You are a smoker, senor?"
"Most of the time. Can I trouble you?"
"I offered the pack, didn't I?'' Carlos sniffed deeply, his wide nostrils flaring. Sounded like the contents of his nose had just been sucked further into his throat. Clint plucked a cigarette from the pack and placed it in his lips, stooping as Carlos flicked at his lighter, the flame jumping up suddenly and igniting the end of the stick. Clint took a drag, feeling that delicious burn as he took in the smoke, the familiar caress of it. He hadn't known just how bad he'd needed it until now. Suddenly seemed that he was aware just how bad his nerves were jangling until they were calmed all in one moment. One glorious moment. He took another drag and blew the smoke out, settling on the rail beside Carlos and watching the others trudge towards the edge of the trackway, standing in the sun. Like idiots. Why wait in the heat when you can stand in the shade. And smoke. Ah this is better.
He turned to look at Carlos out of the corner of his eye. With the cigarette hanging from his mouth as he leant and the shadow falling across him the way it did, the man looked like something out of a bad western. The villain or questionable anti-hero maybe, watching the approaching enemy from outside the saloon. Another cloud of smoke enveloped the Costa Rican, completing the caricature.
There was a sudden chirping, from across the trackway, and Clint's head snapped in the direction of the noise, his nerves reminding him they weren't completely calmed just yet. Four small green creatures stood at the base of the trees opposite, standing on thin hind legs and cocking their small heads from side to side. Clint watched them wide eyed, not willing to take any chances with any dinosaur now, even if they are only a foot high. The image of Gail's face being torn away as it turned into the jaws of those horned devils flashed in his mind again, and he gripped the rail a bit harder. The small dinosaurs chirped again, watching him and the others, displaying nothing more than curious interest it seemed. You know what killed the cat though, don't you? You just stay right there, you little green shits.
"Bichos, senor,'' said Carlos, spitting onto the boards by his feet. "Musical little things, eh? They are bichos though, vermin. Worse than rats.''
"Are they dangerous?''
"Si. Don't let a dinosaur bite you, eh?'' Great advice, thanks. I'd call you a prick if it wasn't for the smoke.
"They don't look too dangerous,'' said Clint, puffing out some smoke as the dinosaurs began to hop about, looked like they were chasing the flies that were buzzing about the trees. It was almost entertaining.
"Si, si. One or two, it's not dangerous. You get a whole lot of them, you are in trouble. Nasty bite. Make you, how you say? Mareado? Dizzy, no?''
"You know a lot about them?'' asked Clint. Carlos took a drag, nodding slowly and grimacing. Looked like the nod of a man who knew a lot more about the others species too. A lot of experience, and none of it good, it seemed. Not so out of place as the rugged anti-hero after all.
"Amigo of mine ended up in the infirmary after some of them attacked him,'' went on Carlos. "Made him sick for a week. Took us two days to clear them out of the area so we could work.''
"What do you do for InGen?" asked Clint, taking a drag of his own. "You a handler? Or a warden, like Wallace?''
"The asesino? No,'' chuckled Carlos. What then, you mysterious prick? Carlos sniffed again, taking a drag and removing the cigarette from his mouth theatrically, stretching out the pregnant pause."I'm the gardener.'' Oh.
"InGen have gardeners? Must be a big job, island like this?'' Clint looked out over the edge off the summit where the others stood, seeing the hazy green of the islands interior stretching out.
"No no, senor. I do the grounds at the village. Keep it looking nice, si?'' Anti-hero of the hedge-rows then. Screwed that assessment up then, didn't I? Clint smiled to himself, puffing out the last cloud of smoke as he looked back towards the woods. The small dinosaurs were gone now, made Clint feel uneasy though. He didn't like the way they could just melt into the trees like that, disappearing into the shadows, where they could watch. Seems to be the theme for me though recently, doesn't it? Fucking shadows.
Carlos threw his cigarette butt to the ground and dug his heel into it, just as Andrea came round the side of the building, a sour look to his face. Pretty sure that guy doesn't have any other face. A bit like that asshole kid Denton.
"Put that out, eh hombre?'' Andrea glared at Clint. What? Andrea tutted and plucked the cigarette from Clint's mouth, stamping it out.
"Hey!'' protested Clint, sounding as pissed off as he felt. "Do you mind?"
"Si, I do,'' said Andrea. "The animals can smell this shit for miles. You wanna be the one that invites them here?'' Clint stared between Andrea and Carlos, at a loss for words. Carlos shrugged sheepishly and strolled off, whistling tunelessly. Yeah, you were a prick, cigarettes or not. Thanks for that. "Don't be smoking this stuff again, eh hombre?''
"Sure, whatever,'' said Clint. I'm gonna make sure to blow a whole cloud of it up your ass when we are back on Nublar. Guess we found the real villain of my western after all. Andrea grunted and pushed passed him, following after Carlos. What the hell was he doing back there anyway?
Grumbling, Clint wandered over the group, stepping out into the bright sunshine and feeling the strength of it on the back of his neck instantly. Made him feel like he was sweating already, which he probably was. Seemed he didn't stop at the moment. Could almost give Williams, the persistently perspiring, a run for his money.
As he drew up with the group, the heavy thuds and metallic clangs of the cargo elevator signalled its arrival. It looked much like the one they had travelled up here in, a wide platform with a metal cage around it. Unlike the first one, this one had rusty mesh wire between the struts and bars. Beside the trackway, near the hut where Ogawa was still tapping away at the controls, a heavy crane stood over the elevator, swaying gently in the breeze.
"Right,'' called out Sidney, pulling the wide door bars open and pushing them open. "Let's get going. A couple more hours and we are at the village.''
There were a few grumbles as they filed in, finding places to sit or lean against the edge of the cage. Clint found a spot and rested his hip against the strut, shading his eyes as he watched Ogawa set a few more dials and then hurry into the cage. The Japanese man pulled the gates shut and looked at Viv, giving her a grin and an absurd double thumbs up. Fucking hell but that guy is suddenly cheery. You wouldn't have thought we had watched a woman get torn apart an hour ago. Or lost Max in the night. Clint felt a twist to his guts, remembering the shrill squeal Max had made as those things had dragged him away. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. He knew if he dwelt on them, that whole unhappy road to his guilt was his only route and destination. He'd been down it enough times already since he'd made Williams' ship explode. Heaped the blame on himself far too much. And shook it off just as many times too.
When it came down to it, he knew he would do it again if he had to. Nedry had fucked things for them, but he was damned if he was going to let a shadow, his remorse or a fucking dinosaur fuck things further. His remorse flared up again, but he ignored it, desperately trying not to be human. Not to care. Not to look out for anyone else.
Yet he had done, hadn't he? He'd volunteered to get the power back on, to go outside and risk his life. For others people. He'd helped his Captain, when he could have left him. And he'd chosen to save Gail too. You're a joke Clint. How long you gonna keep this act up? He clenched his fists, exhaling deeply and closing his eyes, turning away from the blinding, revealing light of the sun. I just want an end to this. I just… I just want to go home.
He watched the clouds in the distance as the elevator rumbled to life, the vibrations of the mechanisms thrumming through his feet. With a jolt the platform groaned and began the long descent down. Clint peered down through the cage bars and saw another building, far below, at the base of the hills, surrounded by the trees of the forest that spread out from the base like a vast green ocean. An ocean Clint already hated. Despite his life on the sea, Clint knew redwoods and pines when he saw them. And when he smelt them. Even from up here, he could make out the strong scent of the forest below. Through breaks in the trees Clint could see various dirt roads and, just about, the rail of the monorail, snaking its way through the trees. He tried following its course, but it was soon lost in the dense forest. His eyes continued on, absorbing the sight before him.
The forest covered much of his view, but beyond there were patches of grasslands, fields and hills. It was almost idyllic. Almost. The addition of high fences cutting through the greenery in the odd few places gave a very sharp reminder as to the other inhabitants of the island. He'd overheard Sidney discussing the possibility of other dinosaurs loose. He'd only seen two species so far, three if you counted the green chickens, but those he had seen made him certain the sooner they were at the village, with InGen on the way to get them, the better. He tried to not to imaging what other creatures from an extinct hell were roaming. Caged or not. But, preferably caged.
Movement to his right caught his eye, and he saw Gail settle against the side of the elevator, sliding down a strut to a sitting position. She stretched her long legs out, crossing her feet one over the other. Looked like she had quickly got over rolling her ankle, back at the docks. Clint couldn't help but let his eyes rest on her legs, a bit longer than he should have. His gaze darted to the buttons of her shirt. He remembered them undone, in his dream, and he sighed. Not this again.
He took a breath and walked over to her, not too close mind. Not too close so as to be obvious. Just enough to be close to her. And to be able to talk. Seemed he'd been wanting another opportunity to speak to her. Seemed he did want to feel human, more than he cared to admit. Or maybe more than he dared to feel. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"You ok?'' he ventured, not really at her, or anyone. She squinted up at him.
"What?'' she said, a bit sharply. Still irritable then.
"I just…wanted to see how you were," he tried again. "You know, after what happened at the docks.'' You sound like a prick Clint. She gave him an odd look, then looked away.
"Fine,'' she said. And that was it, again.
He tapped his fist against the rail a few times, watching the green of forest below become a deeper green. Might as well go for broke. "How's your ankle?" She nodded, indicating it was fine. Of course it was fine. He remembered she had said she worked in the control room, at Jurassic Park. One of the people they had put under the blankets on the beach had worked in that room too. Now what did that prick Wilson say his name was, back when Wallace showed up? Castor? Carl? Ah, Cassidy! "Listen, I'm sorry about your colleague, from the control room. Did you know Cassidy well?'' She squinted up at him again, brushing a long strand of dark hair out of her eyes. She looked annoyed. Maybe touched a raw wound?
"Who?'' she said. Clint was confused for a moment, but then she spoke again. "Oh, yeah, Cassidy. Of course, yeah. He was a good guy. Nice guy.'' Past few days must be as foggy for her as they are for me.
"Well, I'm sorry, all the same. I guess we have both lost people we knew.'' Gail nodded slowly, staring at her boots. "You, err, worked for InGen long?''
"Couple of years,'' she said. "What do you do? I haven't seen you around the park before."
"I work The Endeavour, as part of Captain William's crew." Or haven't you heard him bellowing at me for the last two days?
"The crew? Oh, yeah, sure. I remember you now. On the beach, with the firewood.'' Well that's something. "It's Cliff, isn't it?''
"Clint.'' Getting there.
"I'm Gail.'' I know.
"Were you heading home? On the ship I mean.'' Why is this so difficult? Jesus Christ. Gail sighed. God, even she knows it too.
"Something like that. The Park was running on minimal staff for the weekend. Something to do with Hammond and some sort of inspection. I don't know. Ray said he and Dennis would be able to manage. So that was that. The rest of us get some extra leave.'' Oh I know that too. Turns out though that Dennis couldn't manage anything.
"Well, I reckon you can claim your leave back. Plus a bit more, all things considered." I should know.
"We'll see,'' said Gail, looking up at him. Her face looked a bit hard for a moment, like she was pissed at him. Probably was, the way he was prattling. Sounded as well like she wanted the conversation to end.
"So, how do you think the dinosaurs got out of their cages?'' he asked, boldly soldiering on. Gail sighed again.
"They aren't kept in cages,'' she said. "They have paddocks. Enclosures. And I don't know. Probably some of the fences failed in the storm.'' Clint didn't like the thought of that.
"You think any more of the fences failed? How many more dinosaurs they got here?''
"I don't know Cliff,'' said Gail. Clint. "I work the control room at Jurassic Park. You know, the computers? The connection machines?'' What the hell is a connection machine? "Listen, I need to stretch my legs.'' She pushed herself to her feet, patting her ass down and walking to the opposite side of the elevator. Clint watched her go wordlessly, helplessly. Well, there's a prickly woman. Still, most are when talking to me. Always know just what to say, don't I.
Clint turned back to the view of the forest, feeling his mood plunge down into that waiting green mass. He spat out into the air, watching his phlegm arc out and drop down, plummeting until it was lost in the breeze. Can't blame a guy for trying though can you? Although I guess me and blame go hand in hand these days.
Carlos drew up beside him, a tooth pick wedged in his mouth. In the sunlight, his dark skin looked like leather, tanned from long days in the sun and deeply lined. Clint couldn't be sure of his age.
"Never mind, senor,'' he said, grinning after Gail. "Perhaps I could find you some flowers, from the garden, eh? You know, perhaps you could, how you say, cortejar the senorita?''
"I'll pass, thanks,'' said Clint. Carlos chuckled to himself, turning and propping his elbows on the rail and looking like he didn't have a care in the world. His toothpick wobbled erratically as he swirled and manoeuvred it with his tongue. Clint found it quite irritating.
"When we get back, me and you, we can get some tequila eh? Drown our sorrows.''
"I doubt our sorrows are quite the same,'' said Clint, picking at some flakes of metal on the rail.
"Oh I don't know, senor. My brother, Diego, was on the ship when it exploded. Never found him.'' Shit.
"I'm sorry,'' said Clint, closing his eyes. That's another body then, another person to add to my list.
"Don't be sorry, hombre,'' said Carlos, a big humourless smile on his face. "Weren't your fault now was it?'' Clint didn't answer. Just watched as the trees below crept closer and closer, their smothering embrace welcoming him as the elevator descended down.
The depot that housed the elevator base and monorail station was a large building, propped up against the side of the hills and nestled amongst the trees. A large square hole was cut into its corrugated roof, just like at the docks, allowing the cargo elevator to enter and settle amongst another network of catwalks, cranes and pulleys. The interior of the building was dark, with narrow streams of light entering in through small windows and slatted vents. Long and deep shadows seeped out from every corner, pools of darkness waiting to swallow anyone who strayed near.
Clint sniffed, smelling the oil of well used machines and the dank odour of wet wood. The large room that the elevator settled in echoed with the clangs of the locking mechanisms, the noise reverberating around the room, disturbing the silence that the building had enjoyed until their arrival. Once the echoes had faded, the silence returned, settling as if it belonged there. Looking up, Clint could see the tops of the taller redwoods that surrounded the building through the hole on the roof, dark against the blue of the sky. Clint could already feel the oppressive, claustrophobic presence of the forest. And we aren't really even into it yet. Give me the open horizons of the sea any day.
The elevator door bolts squealed as Sidney dragged them across, prodding the doors open with the tip of his boot and making his way out across the catwalks. Maybe it was the fact that they were above ground still, but the group began to follow him out, snaking through the doors in single file. Maybe not so wary anymore. Clint followed on behind Williams, who was guiding BB forwards. The Canadian, Marsden, followed on after Clint, ever watchful and silent. Just like a shadow. Still, I'd rather be at the back than at the front.
Their footsteps and rustling clothes began to fill the silence of the room, the metal surface of the catwalk clanking with each heavy boot or shoe that struck it. Below them, the floor of the building was littered with crates and machinery. Some small loading cranes could be seen, tucked into the corners and looming up out of the shadows like the necks of strange, metal monsters.
The warden led them towards the door of a square room at the end of the catwalk, the tip of his gun pointing in every direction. Clint could see faded white computer monitors on the desks through the door, as well as sheets of paper pinned to the walls alongside white boards, writing scribbled across them in marker. Might have been an old map of the island, buried beneath all the other sheets too.
"Through here,'' said Sidney in a low voice. Poking his shotgun through the doorway, the man led them into the office, making his way through it to the door on the far wall.
"Wait,'' said the woman Anderson suddenly. "Sid, there's a phone. Might be worth trying the village or administration building again.'' The warden nodded, and Anderson ducked out of the line and picked up the old phone on one of the desk. "There's a dial tone,'' she said as she punched in a number. She tapped her fingers on the receiver impatiently, bopping her head as if to some unheard beat. Everyone was watching, waiting for her to speak. Praying for to speak maybe. Not maybe, definitely. "Nothing. God dammit.''
"It's ok, Grace,'' said Sidney. "It was a long shot. Let's keep going.'' Yes, lets. The sooner we are out of this place the better. It's too quiet.
They exited out of the office, entering a dim corridor with a couple of other doors. A weak light flickered from a grubby ceiling rose, casting erratic shadows as they made their way through. No one spoke. Clint noticed he was biting his lip, his two front teeth digging into the flesh. Another smoke would be good right now. Clint could hear BB whimpering, the darkness was upsetting him apparently. Not much didn't, these past few days. Poor idiot.
A door at the end of the corridor creaked open, revealing another wide room. More than a room. It was a large space, similar to the hangar like at the dock house. They stood on another catwalk, overlooking the cavernous space. The usual furniture of cranes and lifting mechanisms were scattered about, but dominating the centre was the monorail trams. Suspended from the track above, the three cars hung there, connected by accordion joiners. Clint could see the catwalk hugging the wall around the room to then branch out into the middle space and run parallel with the cars. Clint felt a wave of relief. The fact that the damn thing was here for a start seemed far beyond what they could have hoped for. Maybe Wallace can get us out of here after all.
Looking down, Clint could see carts and containers on various tracks and runners, some leading off through an adjoining room where they would, presumably, link up with the cargo elevator room. The far wall had a cutaway section to allow the monorail to exit, with an additional section removed at ground level to allow access. The forest could be seen beyond the opening, beckoning and threatening at the same time. Hanging from the third and final monorail car was a swaying container. InGen's logo was slapped across its side. Clint didn't care what might have been inside. The heavy silence of the building seemed a little less oppressive for a moment. Then something went bang.
One of the young doctors screamed as metal poles fell down against the wall on the ground, sliding down with a nasty clang. One after another, the poles bounced as they struck the concrete floor, the noise of each joining the one before, adding to the cacophony. Clint felt his nerves being shredded by each metallic impact and echo. Sidney was already moving, his shotgun pointing down and his body swarming along the catwalk. The others were gripping the catwalk rail, whilst BB was clinging onto William's sleeve, pulling the older man along. Clint flicked a glance at Gail. Then woman was coiled, tense, much like Sidney. She moved along the catwalk after the warden.
"It's ok, its ok,'' said Carlos suddenly. "Look.'' The gardener pointed down, his tooth pick still in his mouth. "Bichos.'' Two of the small green dinosaurs hopped from the pile of poles, chirping and trilling, before darting out of the exit and vanishing into the undergrowth of the forest.
"Right,'' said Sidney. ''Let's not hang about. Come on. Everyone in. Ogawa, I want you up front, get this thing started. You think you can operate this?''
"Probably,'' replied Ogawa, rolling up his shirt sleeves. "If there's power, I can get the sucker moving.''
"Good man. Get it done.''
The warden and Ogawa made their way to the side of the second car, prising open the doors. Ogawa hopped inside and disappeared, the cars swaying slightly as he made his way to the front and the driving controls. Sidney stood in the doorway of the car, ushering each person in. Clint looked at the third car, and the cargo crate hanging from it. That thing looks heavy.
"Clint,'' called Sidney. "Come on. Get in.''
"Hold up,' said Clint. "That third car looks like it's gonna slow us down.''
"We don't need to fuck around with that now though,'' said Sidney, almost irritably. "Come on.''
"No. Let me see if I can detach it.'' Clint heard the warden huff as he made his way down the catwalk to the third cars connecting accordion. Something trilled, out in the forest. Sounded like the small ones. A shiver passed through Clint and he fought the urge to jump into the car and get going.
He saw a heavy looking lever, on the outside of the third car next to the connector. The yellow and red stripes of a hazard warning directed him to its function, and he grinned as he gripped it and pulled. There was a heavy thud and series of clicks as the connector released from its housing on the third car. The accordion began to contract, revealing the small doors on the second and third car. Satisfied, Clint turned on his heel and hopped inside the second car, pushing the door shut behind him.
Inside, the group had moved into the first car, occupying the few seats, whilst a few hung back in the second car. Sidney was up front, pushing his way through the driver's door and speaking with Ogawa. There was an electronic thrumming and various lights suddenly lit up, the cars vibrating with power. Sidney looked back through the cars.
"Everybody ready?'' There were some nods, Clint's own amongst them, and then with a slap on Ogawa's shoulder, the monorail lurched into life, the wheels above them squealing on the track. Daylight flooded through the dirty windows of the cars as they emerged out of the depot, the forest around them casting everything into a green haze. Clint sat down by a window, listening to the rhythmic clacks of the monorail as it rumbled along. He stared out of the window, watching the passing trunks of the trees and the seeing the depot growing smaller as they rounded a bend and plunged deeper into the forest. Clint felt another wave of relief as the depot disappeared, leaving behind the hills and the docks, and hopefully his guilt.
Cold, cold eyes watched Barker as the cars swayed on the tracks. The man had the audacity to look relieved as he slumped against the side of the car. He should be feeling anything but relief. Things had not gone according to plan at all, but there was still time.
Still time for Barker to reveal what he knew. To pay for his crimes. It had been rash to confront him on the ship. It had spooked him, and the resulting fiasco had resulted in this present situation. Still, the man was unaware of his assailant, and it seemed he thought he had got away with it. For now.
The owner of the eyes stretched out their legs, crossing their feet over each other as the shadow of the trees fell across them, covering them in a familiar shroud. The eyes watched. And the shadow waited. Yes, there was still plenty of time.