Chapter Twenty-Four
The late afternoon's stubborn rays of warm sunlight drifted across Sidneys forearms as he sat with his back to his tree, enjoying the last of the summer's warmth. His second summer on Sorna had been a long one this year, with far too much to do and too much to manage with nowhere near enough hours in the day to do it all. He could feel the goodbye kiss of the sun as it sank behind the mountains, and his little nod to it had become as much a part of the routine as had just sitting and looking at the bottle.
He could just about see it now, just laying by the edge of the bushes. Could only have been thirty feet or so away. So close. So tantalisingly close. The murky white liquid caught a bit of the sunlight, turning it a beautiful golden colour. The red label of the Guaro was a bit faded now, having endured the summers blazing sun. The alcohol was probably well past its best now too. Still, faded or not, spoiled or not, it looked just as good to Sidney as when he'd torn the wrapping paper away and seen what Bailey had given him. It hadn't been her fault, she hadn't known. Nobody had. Except Robert, not that he'd have told anyone. But all the same, he had managed to keep his demons hidden since becoming the Warden on Sorna. He'd managed it well. Even if they were curious, nobody had ever asked why he favoured a lemonade at the tavern. Maybe they did know and just didn't say anything. He didn't mind. They left him be in that regard.
The sun glinted on the bottle again and drew his eye back to it. Bailey had given it to him at Christmas, before she left for the mainland, as a token of his good work. He'd been one of the few to stay for the few days that InGen allowed them to return to their families over the festive period, not that he had much in the way of family anyway. Again though, that suited him well enough. Certainly made it easier knowing Bailey would have been airborne when he threw the bottle, she'd never know. How he'd stopped himself from drinking it though he still wasn't sure. He'd felt the irresistible pull of the alcohol, screaming his name in his head. Well, almost irresistible.
He'd taken it as a sign of his recovery that he'd won the fight. Didn't mean he'd won the war though. Just a little victory in a little skirmish. But those moments were always colossal to Sidney. It had left him sweaty and clammy, but the moment the bottle had left his hand and sailed over the fence, he knew he'd done the right thing. He was still shocked it hadn't smashed though. He could still hear the wet thud it had made when it landed, rolling a short distance to stop where it still lay now. The neck poking into the bushes, the rest of it visible if you stood in just the right place. Or sat.
And so he sat against his tree, at the end of every day, rain or shine, and stared at the bottle, reminding himself he was stronger. That he didn't need it. That however much it called to him, and taunted him, he didn't need it. Of course, it had helped he'd thrown it into the Monarchs paddock. Using the home of an eight-ton carnivorous dinosaur was a good way to make sure you weren't tempted to take a nip. That and the tall steel fence.
As if on cue, the Monarch growled from somewhere amongst the far-off trees of the paddock, the branches cracking and the tops of the trees swaying. A timely reminder of the owner of the paddock. The bottle was his property now, and Sidney would be both trespassing and stealing if he ever gave in and retrieved it. A good way to stay sober, if slightly more unorthodox than attending those awful meetings. And the Monarch was a much better sponsor. He smiled to himself grimly.
A gentle breeze blew across him, and he caught the faint scent of unfamiliar vegetation. Unfamiliar, but not unknown. He knew where it was from, and only certain plants on Nublar, growing in the Visitor Centre, gave off such a scent. To his credit, Robert hadn't made a sound, and it was only the chance direction of the wind that had given him away.
"You're spending too much time in that showroom Hammond calls his Visitor Centre,'' said Sidney, keeping his eyes on the bottle. "You need to get out more." He heard a soft snort, and then the sound of feet, moving carefully through the grass. Robert appeared by his side, wearing his usual safari style clothes. Sidney wondered if he slept in them. Probably.
"You always were better at this than me,'' said Robert.
"Had to learn it from someone, didn't I?"
Robert huffed. Sounded like it was meant to be some sort of acknowledgement.
"Besides all that, John keeps me pretty busy. Doesn't leave me much time to get out. Or sit against trees admiring fences."
"You should find time,'' said Sidney, stretching his legs out and crossing one over the other and wiggling his arse to get a bit comfier. "Half an hour at the end of each day, does me no end of good. And look at the welding on this thing. Flawless."
"So I see,'' said Robert, snorting again. "Odd place for meditation though…or whatever it is you're calling this." Robert looked down at Sidney, an eyebrow half raised. "Productive summer then?"
"Very,'' said Sidney, nodding slowly. "Fourteen fence repairs, a new road finished and a successful Brachiosaur migration. Transfer of one of the female Rex's to the west side of the island. And I think I have finally got the hang of getting the shipment schedule just right. Bailey is pleased. Which hopefully means the powers that be are too."
"I've not heard any grumbling,'' said Robert.
"Jolly good then. Might just be making something of this place. I think the locals are warming to me too. Or it could be that I managed to get a few crates of the local beer in for them. Strictly for Friday's of course."
"Of course,'' echoed Robert. There was a moments silence. "Can't have been easy, that." Sidney didn't miss the double meaning.
"Never,'' he sighed. "But this helps." He looked back into the paddock, catching sight of a huge dark tail between the distant trees.
"No accident then, that that bottle that I heard Bailey bought in especially for you ended up in that bush over there?"
"Your eyes are as sharp as ever,'' chuckled Sidney, humourlessly.
"Give me some credit Sid."
"I do what I need to. Gotta keep my seat on the wagon somehow."
"I'm proud of you,'' said Robert. Not much warmth in his voice, but that was Robert all over. Still, Sidney couldn't help but feel the effects of the compliment. He felt the smile tug at his face.
"Thanks,'' said Sidney, watching Robert wander towards the fence, hands in his pockets.
"How's this tyrannosaur getting on? Going to meet the criteria for the breeding program?"
"He's on track, just about." Sidney watched the trees swaying, the thuds of the dinosaur's footsteps faintly vibrating through the ground beneath his arse. "Bit of a temper though. We will have to watch the female's that match to him." Robert nodded, watching the trees as well.
"Makes you wonder, doesn't it."
"What's that?" said Sidney.
"What these things are capable of. All well and good whilst they are behind these fences, but it's not like Africa."
"Almost sounds like fear,'' said Sidney, grinning. "Surely you're not going soft?" Robert looked back over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.
"You know what I mean Sid. Tranquilising one of them from a Wrangler is simple work. Not so simple if we are on foot, us against them."
"Part of the thrill though, isn't it,'' said Sidney, rubbing a thumb and forefinger. "Pitted against a beast, your nerve against theirs. Man against nature."
"I used to think that. But seeing the way some of these things move…" Sidney pushed himself up and went and stood by his friend.
"Remember what they used to say in Kenya? Never let a hyena know how well you can bite. We will always be smarter than them Robert. Didn't evolution work that all out for us?" Robert twisted his mouth in doubtful thought.
"They say another thing in Kenya,'' he rumbled. "One day the hunter will find the lion is cleverer than him."
Sidney watched the male tyrannosaur emerge from the trees, striding into the open and surveying his kingdom. The dinosaur was enormous, powerful. Sidney had admired it the moment he saw it. He wondered what it would be like, if the fence between them suddenly vanished. Not a pleasant thought, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling of excitement, imagining trying to evade the animal. Outwit it. He thumped Robert on the arm.
"I reckon then that we'd best stay one step ahead of those particular lions…"
Sidney took an involuntary step back. Not a big one, but big enough to feel his whole leg rattling all the way down to the ground. His shotgun wobbled a bit in his hand, the wet wood of the stock beneath his fingers feeling as slippery as a bar of soap. He had the biggest urge to turn that little step into another, and another, and not look back. The Monarch was coming closer, enquiring, curious, its massive head twisting and cocking in slow, unhurried movements. The twin beams of the Jeeps headlights were fascinating it, and the idling of the engine was confusing it. Sidney could read it all in the animal's body language. Language he'd read for years now. Language he was fluent in.
The huge Rex stopped, a good twenty paces from the Jeep, sniffing again through the falling rain. The lights illuminated its lower legs, turning its dark skin gold, a striking contrast to its almost black scales. Sidney had once spent an hour looking at how dark the green of its skin was, admiring it in the afternoon sun one day. Now, he felt nothing but his dry mouth and the freezing terror of uncertainty. He wanted to run, to dash through the trees and get away from the Rex. His mind was screaming with the need for it. Only his feet didn't listen. How could they, above the clamour in his head?
The Monarch sniffed again, and Sidney could almost swear those deep yellow eyes looked directly at him. Was that recognition? Impossible. Then Sidney sniffed, and the metallic tang of blood filled his nose. He slowly lowered his head, his eyes dropping lower to look at his front.
His shirt was red, soaked through and sticky with blood. Not his, although there was plenty of that on his arm, his wound bleeding stubbornly. Slashing the dilophosaurus had been satisfying in the moment, but the resulting spillage of blood onto him was now making him acutely aware of how he smelt. His eyes flicked to Harris, frozen in place as well, his axe still poking the flat tyre of the Jeep. He looked horribly exposed beside the vehicle. Sidney at least was behind the Jeep, looking at the Rex from just around the edge of it. Far from safe though. He could just about make out Anna and Andrea through the see-through plastic window of the Jeeps pull over tarp, the tapping of the rain loud on the fabric.
Had he led them to this? From one nightmare to another? Was there really ever going to be an escape? Perhaps the sooner he realised this island would be their tomb the sooner he could let go the infuriating belief he could make everything better. Oh for a drink. One last drink.
He looked at Harris, the man trembling. He looked at the outline of Anna, knowing the terror she would be feeling. Probably the same he felt. Andrea's sneer appeared in his mind. The man was a prick, but he'd every right to be. Perhaps Sidney could make one last offer for them all. One last chance.
"Harris,'' he said quietly, watching the Monarch raise its head from the ground and take another step towards them. The ground shook through Sidney's boots. Harris's head barely twitched, but Sidney knew he was listening. "Get this tyre changed. Get them to the village. And get them home."
Sidney ran. He yelled. He waved his arms. And he felt the utter freedom of risking his own life instead of others.
The deafening roar that shook through the forest told him everything he needed to know. The language was clear. The Monarch had identified him as the scent of blood. The hunt was on.
The darkness of the forest swallowed Sidney as he launched himself off the road and through the ferns, darting between the trees and vaulting over the thick roots of the redwoods, away from the Jeep and the others. The ground trembled beneath him, the thundering impacts of each step of the pursuing Rex like an earthquake, terrifyingly loud, terrifyingly close. He risked a looked back and saw the animal was hard on his tail, shouldering its way through the forest after him. Sidney could feel his heart pounding in his throat, pulsing behind his blind eye and coursing through his body with giddy madness. The first wrong move, the first misstep, and he was dead.
He changed direction, reaching a thick tree and darting behind it. For a moment the line of sight was broken, and he dashed through the forest, gaining precious ground.
Short lived as the Monarch rounded the tree, spotting him again and roaring. Sidney knew the roar. Had heard it a thousand times before. The roar of the animal when it was savouring the hunt, relishing in the chase. How long could he evade it? Would it be long enough for the others? He just needed to keep going. They were on their own now, they'd have to take care of themselves.
Something clipped his shoulder, something horribly solid. In the gloom, the blur of the passing branch was gone before he realised what had hit him. Then the wet tree root under his boot slid out from underneath him, sending him sprawling in the damp soil. His teeth clamped together painfully, and the breath whooshed out of him.
The ground shook beneath him still, the tremors thumping through him like a final countdown. He scrambled up, growling and groaning and flung himself beside the nearest tree. Branches cracked behind him, and the ear-splitting noise of the predator boomed around him. He dare not look now. The noises sounded just behind him.
He could hear the frightened hoots coming out of his mouth as he ran, just about all he could manage as his body tensed for the crushing bite that was surely coming. In his mind he saw the countless lumps of meat the animal had consumed, bloody and torn, dangling and misshapen. He knew that would be him soon.
A slender tree crashed to the ground beside him, making him flinch and dart to the left behind another tree, a large redwood with a thick trunk and high twisting roots. A roar bellowed behind him and he smelled the rancid odour of the carnivore's breath. He dived over a root and thumped into the ground, mud smearing up his chin and his left arm stinging with pain from the impact. There was a sound of huge jaws clamping shut behind him and a loud rush of air blew past him. The noise was deafening, drowning out his squeak of terror as he crawled away.
A thick root arched up in front of him, and he scrambled underneath it, panting and gasping. Soil and pine needles showered across him as the Monarch's jaws snapped at him, gouging into the damp earth just a few feet from him. He glanced at the animal and saw only a dark blur and yawning mouth, edged with massive teeth. He smelt the odour again and grimaced away from the onslaught of the bites. He wiggled sideways, further under the root. It could only have been a few feet wide, not enough to fully cover him, not enough for the dinosaur to get to him. That would soon change though.
The animal's snout pushed in at him, the gap of the ground and root preventing its jaws from opening. Sidney struck it with his shotgun desperately. The Monarch gave no indication of even feeling the blows.
The snout retreated and came down from above, clamping around the root, pulling, twisting. Bark showered down and wood groaned. The animal was working itself into a frenzy, the hunt so close to ending. Sidney cowered away from the jaws, upper and lower sets of teeth on either side of him. A massive foot stomped down into the earth, rattling his teeth. Time slowed, and the world shrank to his tiny space beneath the root, and the monstrous fury of the tyrannosaur above him.
The animal came again, roaring, biting, pushing. More chunks of the redwood's roots were torn away, splitting along the long length. Sidney knew he was screaming, but he couldn't hear it. The sounds around him were one of chaos. He squirmed to the side as the jaws clamped down on the root again, and a few teeth raked his thigh. The sharp points left a stinging throb in his leg. He screamed again.
"Never let a hyena know how well you can bite…"
The words he'd spoken, and listened to, flashed across his mind. He fumbled up his shotgun, pumping the fore-end. The vibration of the weapon as the slug slid into the firing chamber, usually so reassuring, went unnoticed as he wedged the barrel to the side. Not much of a bite, but it was all he had. And it was time to show it.
The head of the Monarch appeared beside him sideways suddenly, the large yellow eye and its black pupil focusing on him with hungry intent. The rumbling growls that came from its throat were like sitting next to a huge engine. Sidney looked at it, his one eye meeting the Monarchs. For a fleeting moment he felt a wave of regret, strong enough to over-come his terror, and then with a snarl he pointed the weapon at the dinosaur's throat and pulled the trigger.
The blast rang out, loud in his ears, and the slug tore through the loose skin of the animal's neck. A big red hole appeared in the skin, gaping and bleeding. With a jerk the Monarch twitched away and reared up, roaring. Its roar of anger was terrifying as it swung its head back towards Sidney, its jaws opening for him.
Sidney had already pumped another round and fired again as the head came down. The second slug ripped into the animal's lower jaw this time, scales and bloody gristle exploding out of the other side of its mouth. Sidney pumped again, fired again. The third round struck the throat again, creating another bloody hole. The Rex reared up again and thrashed its head. Sidney saw his chance and rolled away, out the other side of his hiding place and scrambled to his feet.
The animal's roars filled the forest, filled Sidney ears. He didn't look back. Just ran. He'd lost all sense of direction now, lost any semblance of time since he'd left the Jeep. Could have been two minutes, could have been two hours. The rain still poured and wind still blew, and somehow he was still alive.
"Still alive, still alive…" he panted, weaving between the trees. The ground began to tremble beneath him again, and he became aware of his aching legs, his throbbing thigh.
The Monarch was coming. He couldn't see it, but he could hear it, crashing between the trees in his direction, its roars of anger and hunger building again. He looked about wildly for another place to hide, his desperation building in time with the approaching Rex. He pumped his shotgun again, fumbling a slug from his webbing and pushing it into the loading port. He pulled another slug and dropped it, his hands shaking.
He vaulted over another root and leant against the trunk of another tree, hidden for the moment. He could hear the Monarch behind him, somewhere, casting about the forest for him. The animals heaving breaths sounded like enormous bellows, driving it on. He looked down at his shirt, smeared with mud and soaked with rain and blood.
Without even thinking he pulled his webbing off and ripped the shirt open, the buttons pinging off in all directions. He pulled the wet fabric off his body and dashed to a nearby low hanging branch, tangling the shirt in the spindly ends. The wind blew the dangling sleeves in every direction, and he bounced the branch for good measure before racing back to the tree, hooking his webbing over one shoulder and his shotgun over the other. He looked at the state of the thin t-shirt he wore beneath his discarded shirt. The blood had soaked into it as well, but he had to take the chance.
He crouched, peering around the tree cautiously. He almost gasped out loud.
The Monarch was there, maybe fifteen feet away, its body half turned away from him, its nose in the ground, snuffling at the earth and its feet raking the soil. Blood dripped from its lower jaw and throat but the animal seemed unhurt by its wounds. Not surprising. The gunshots would have been like slapping an elephant. Just as ineffective and just as aggravating for the animal.
It tossed it's head in annoyance, rumbling and growling and moving round towards the neighbouring tree. Sidney watched its chest rising and falling as it searched, heard its nostrils snorting in the air, following the scent.
Sidney backed away around the tree, using it to break any line of sight should the Monarch look his direction. Rain tapped onto his head from above, snaking down his back and his arms. He tried to calm his breathing, tried to regain control. His heart was pounding still. Control was long gone, he knew. And his little gambit would soon either work or fail miserably.
His arse bumped against another root and he slid over it slowly, crouching down. His heart was slowing, his breathing becoming more measured. The Monarch was close, but it had lost sight of him. It was searching, seeking, but its agitation had worked in Sidneys favour.
Sidney looked at his dangling, bloody shirt. The wind blew again and the Monarch twisted its head towards it.
Painfully slowly, the animal moved towards it, its head twisting and coiling as it got closer to the object in the swaying branch. It extended its head and sniffed at the clothing. Time seemed to slow again, dragging on for eternity as Sidney edged away, crawling between the roots and slipping between the trunks. All he could see of the tyrannosaur now was its tail, pointing upwards as it bent to inspect and pull at the bloody lump of his shirt.
Sidney was increasing the distance between them, weaving between the trees again, blocking the line of sight. He placed his feet carefully, his movements almost silent. His beating heart, that had been so loud in his ears, was fading, replaced by the patter of the rain and the distant snort of the Monarch. The animals irritable growls and low roars were becoming muffled by the forest. Its vast bulk was blending with the gloom.
Minutes crawled by as Sidney slipped away slowly, not rushing. He couldn't quite believe how easily he had confused the animal. He was sure any minute now it would come crashing out of the trees after him again. He almost smiled, imagining what Robert would say. Probably not much, the stoic arse. But Sidney would tell him anyway, if he ever saw him again.
Sidney stopped suddenly, stiffening, the breath catching in his throat. A horn, honking twice. He was sure of it. And he was sure it was the Jeep. He knew the sound. He spun around, unsure of its direction. It came again, and he heard the Monarch rumble in the trees. The animal would have heard it too.
Was this another chance? He'd had enough of them to doubt it. But he couldn't stop the urge to survive, to escape. To stay defiant.
He thought he could maybe see a faint light, far away through the trees. Headlights? Maybe. Had to be. They must have got that tyre changed. How long had it been? Didn't seem possible he had bought them enough time.
He set his jaw and ran, leaping over fallen trees and rocks, flitting between the ferns, moving quickly and quietly. He couldn't quite believe how far he had moved into the forest. The distant light seemed to be always out of reach, but it drew closer. He could maybe pick out the bright circle of the headlight bulbs now. He could make it.
He slid on some mud and went flying into the ground, his legs going out sideways underneath him and his ribs whacking painfully into the dirt, and his shotgun. The weapon discharged on the impact, and the blast rang out like an alarm through the forest.
"Fuck!" spat Sidney, not quite sure if he was more surprised he hadn't blown his skull to bits or that he'd fallen and given his location away. A single tremor shook through the ground, and the Monarch roared. Time was up.
Sidney sprang forward, veering towards the light and sprinting through the forest. His boots thudded in the wet soil, squelching and sucking mud pulling at him, threatening to make him slip again. He ignored it. His head dipped lower as he ran, pushing through the aches, the fear and the rain. He hopped over a log and barrelled through a fern and then he saw the Jeep, a hundred yards away, through the trees, rolling forward along the road slowly. Someone was stood on the step-up bar, the door open as they looked into the forest. Looked like Harris. Searching. For him? Maybe? Surely.
He carried on, feeling the earth shake again. The trees cracked behind him, far away. Was the Monarch closing? He didn't look. He just kept going.
He tumbled over a root and crashed through a wet bush, spilling onto the road and seeing Harris's eyes go wide in surprise.
"Shit!'' gasped Harris. "It's him! Its Wallace! Shit man, come on come on!" Harris ducked inside the Jeep and Sidney dashed over to it, bumping against the door awkwardly and falling into the seat. He slammed the door.
"Go!" he yelled. "Go!" Andrea grunted and stepped on the accelerator. The Jeep roared to life and picked up speed. "You remember the turning for the village?"
"Si, asesino,'' said Andrea, stooping over the wheel.
They raced along, and Sidney saw the turning that would take them to the village. And the chopper. The Monarch stepped out of the forest, across the road at the turning they needed to take. The animal's stance radiated aggression, and it gathered itself up and roared at them as they approached. Andrea didn't even flinch as he yanked on the steering wheel and took the opposite road, away from the Rex. In the back, Anna and Harris slid to the side from the force of the turn, bumping into the roll cage frame.
Harris was yelling something but Sidney was too busy loading more slugs into his shotgun and watching the Monarch in the side mirror. The animals throat was streaked with blood, and its mouth hung open, its tongue lapping at the edges of its mouth. It began to pursue them, thundering along the road, but it soon slowed up, falling behind and bellowing at them. Sidney felt a surge of relief. Not least because he had no wish to put more slugs into the tyrannosaur. Anna made some sort of whooping noise of triumph, and Harris was grinning. Sidney just collapsed into his seat, exhaustion demanding he close his eye.
"Now what, eh?" said Andrea. "There's no way back to the village except that road."
"Let me think a moment," said Sidney, massaging his thigh, and hissing. The Costa Rican was right though. The only way back to the village from here was back towards the Monarch, or through a deep river. Maybe the dinosaur would move on, and they could slip around it. He quickly discounted the idea. He'd narrowly escaped it one time. He couldn't chance another, not with everyone else either. He looked ahead, through the dark of the forest as it sped by. He knew where this road took them. Nowhere near where the chopper was, but they were running out of options. And maybe they could find something there. Maybe.
"Keep going,'' he said, nodding his head forwards "The Burroughs."
"The Burroughs, asesino?" said Andrea, sceptical. "What do you hope to find there? We need to get to the village, no?"
"What we need, is somewhere bloody safe and somewhere we can think and maybe find a way to contact the helicopter. The village is no good now. The Burroughs is our best option."
"You don't make much sense to me, asesino. But you got coraje, stones, no? The Burroughs it is." Andre shifted gear and drove them onwards, through the rain and the darkening forest. Sidney sighed, wondering if he'd made another bad decision. But as he kept telling himself, he didn't have much in the way of options. Something he'd always said when he opened another bottle.
They'd driven for maybe twenty minutes, speeding through the forest, all of them alert, all of them exhausted. The dirt road had wound through the redwood forest and seemed endless, a dark labyrinth of wet trunks and swaying branches. Through each pass of the Jeeps wipers, Sidney had expected to see the Monarch, somehow ahead of them. Phantom shapes lunged from the side of the road at them, and more than once he'd nearly fired at the twisting branches or reaching ferns.
He rubbed at his good eye, feeling it itch. He felt the heavy need to lay down somewhere and sleep, to forget his pains. Forget everything. His thoughts drifted to the last time he'd been able to sleep peacefully, content. Happy. Probably next to Hannah, the warmth of her body close, the smoothness of her skin against his. His hand closed in a fist, the frustration never far away. They passed out from under the eaves of the forest and Andre brough the Jeep to a stop, disturbing Sidney's thoughts.
Ahead of them was a wide clearing. More than a clearing. They were in the vast valley of the foothills of the mountains that cut across the middle of the island. The rolling hills framed the edges of the scene, lush grass turned soggy dark green in the rains. Usually, the tops of the hills were wreathed in thick fog, but the approaching storm had cleared any mists away, turning the tops of the hills into foreboding summits.
Cutting across their path was a wall, with the road leading to a wide automated gate. A gate that led into the town. Beside it, the large sign displaying the InGen logo and the name of the town stood proudly, save for the hanging bits of foliage that draped over it that somewhat spoiled the effect. Sidney couldn't bear to look at it, couldn't bear to read that ballshit about making futures. Not anymore.
Sidney snorted at it. He hated the Burroughs. A place of comfort and achievement for most. To him, it was a flavour of Hammonds grandeur and all the trappings of the pomp that went with it, the indulgences of InGen's best minds. He avoided it like the plague. Too many preening white coats and self-congratulating executives could be found there, haunting the offices and small display labs, or skulking around the residential buildings, hoping to bury their noses even further up Hammonds arse when he visited. He'd been offered a house there when he arrived. One look at the place had told him all he needed to know.
Still, for all its faults, the place was the closest to a safe place that Sidney could think of. If safe existed on this island anymore. He looked at the high brick wall around the town, and the fence posts and wires that crowned it. Doubtful that the electric was still running through those wires, but the size of the fences and sturdiness of the walls made a welcome sight, especially as Sidney could see no obvious signs of serious damage.
Andrea drove them slowly towards the gate, the tops of the buildings inside the walls looming higher as they neared. The headlights illuminated the gate, showing them all it was shut fast.
"No power, asesino,'' said Andre grimly. "No power, no gate opening."
"Keep the engine running,'' said Sidney, taking a breath and readying himself once again. "I'll get the over-ride."
Andrea grunted as Sidney opened the door and stepped out into the rain, the weather reminding him of how little clothing he now wore. Not that losing a shirt made much difference to how wet he was. He moved towards the gate pillars, shotgun held ready, his eyes scanning the gate ahead and the surrounding area. The far-off dark treeline looked at threatening as ever. More so now that the potential for safe shelter was so close. The last time he'd been sure of safety though Grace had been torn apart. His curled his lip.
He reached the closed gate, a solid and thick wooden and iron article. Reminiscent of Hammonds illustrious gates on Nublar, just not as high. He found the small grey panel door in the pillar and flipped it open, met with the algae covered keypad and lever switch of the gate's manual over-ride. The keypad was not needed though. He pulled the stiff lever down with a clunk and heard the reassuring release of the locking pistons inside the gate pillars. Slinging his weapon, he set his shoulder against the edge of one gate and pushed, blowing spit from his mouth as the pains of his body screamed against him. Slowly, and with a squealing reluctance, the gate opened inwards.
Andrea rolled the Jeep through the opening slowly, and Sidney heaved the gate closed again, expecting any moment claws or teeth to find him. His stomach fluttered with the urgency to shut the island out. The gate shut with a heavy clunk again, and he felt a knot of tension release. One step at a time though. He climbed back into the Jeep.
"Where now then?" said Andrea. Sidney looked out across the town, his eyes quickly scanning the buildings and open spaces for any movement. It all looked very still, very quiet. The evidence of the hurricane was very apparent though. Looked like the place had been hit hard by it. Trees and pylons had fallen onto the tops of buildings, some having smashed through the roofs. Power cables hung slack from the pylon's arms, trailing along the ground and getting tangled with the debris on the ground. Cars sat abandoned, their windows smashed in or covered in bits of tree. Sidney looked up at the numerous observation towers, seeing a similar theme. Broken windows, flickering lights and general ruin. No sign of any kind of life. Human or animal.
They drove on, Sidney looking left and right.
"Take a left here,'' he said. They passed the statue of Burroughs himself, covered in foliage and a power cable hanging from his outstretched hand, as if in offering. Wasn't much of an offering.
"Who the hell is that?'' asked Harris, pointing at the statue. "Is that Hammond or something?"
"El desea,'' said Andrea.
"Huh?" grunted Harris. "What is this place anyway? Looks like a resort mixed with a fortress. Seriously, what's with the guard towers? And is that a tennis court, through there?"
"This is where a lot of the executives stay, when on island,'' said Anna, looking out of her window. "Some of the lab staff have personal residence here too."
"And Hammond," said Sidney. "Over there. That's his place."
"What do you want with his place?'' asked Harris, his head sticking between the gap of the two front seats.
"Hammonds private residence will have every comfort and every bit of technology going. Other than Wu's villa, maybe. But if there's anything we can use, we will find it there."
Andre drove them up to Hammonds large house, looking like it wouldn't be out of place in an expensive country estate. A low brick wall encircled a garden, meeting at an ornate iron gate. Small water fountains were dotted in the garden, the water no longer running. Just muddy pools rippling with rainwater.
Sidney got out of the Jeep, looking up at Hammonds house. He shook his head, even now, still disbelieving the difference between this and the other forms of residence on the island. Compared to his simple cabin, this building was opulence itself. Or it would have been, had the neighbouring trees not fallen onto it, some leaning against the balconies and verandas, others criss-crossing the grounds. One tall trunk had crashed straight through the central part of the roof. Sidney could see the wooden beams and rafters sticking out like the ribs of a carcass.
"Come on,'' he called. The Jeeps engine cut off and they followed him through the gate, keeping close and huddling against the rain. Sidney led them up the wide veranda steps, stepping over the broken potted plants and stray roof tiles. A porch swing lay on its side, the chains hanging slack and twisting in the wind.
The front door was open, banging in the winds, and Sidney propped it open with the toe of his boot, careful moving inside and leaving the howling wind and rain outside, his shotgun levelled, ready. It was dark inside, but just enough light revealed the grand entrance hallway. Various doors led off to dark rooms and shadowy corridors. Sidney could see the doorway through to the kitchen. He motioned for them to follow, and wordlessly they shuffled through the gloom, the front door clicking shut behind them.
The kitchen was a lavish open plan style, with tall units and a huge fridge. Ornaments and trophies hung on the walls, and there looked to be a breakfast bar of some sort, by a wide window, overlooking another garden.
Sidney heard a door open. Harris had wasted no time in looking for food. His head was buried in the fridge, rifling through it urgently.
"Oh, thank you, Jesus." Harris began dumping things on the breakfast bar. Bread, jars of pickle and other small pots of preserved food, fruit and other berries. Looked like some jam, too. A joint of what could have been gammon thumped onto the table, and the others began pulling it apart, cramming food into their mouths hungrily. Harris squeaked and produced a half empty bottle of white wine, holding it aloft triumphantly. "When in Rome!" He pulled the stopper and took a swig, wiping his mouth and passing it to the others. Sidney's mouth flooded with spit, his guts cramping and his fingers twitching, both wishing Anna would pass him the bottle and terrified if she did.
"I'm going to have a look around," he said, ignoring the bottle and tearing off some meat and bread.
He left them in the kitchen and threaded his way back to the entrance hall. A central stairway led up to a gallery landing, the open sky above visible through the ruined hole in the ceiling. Rain fell through the opening, pattering on the bottom steps and adding to the spreading puddle.
He moved up the stairs, the low murmurs of the others and the occasional clink of glass or crockery coming from below. Above him the wind droned through the gaping hole. Moving along the gallery, he entered in through an open archway into a wide room, with tall glass doors leading out onto what looked like a wide balcony. The toppled trees leant against the decorative railing, but beyond Sidney could see a good view of the rolling hills and grasslands. A favourite view spot of Hammonds, he knew. The Old Man liked to sit here and watch the migration of the brachiosaurs each summer, surveying his kingdom. Probably glass of something strong in hand. His guts cramped again, and he stuffed some more bread in, chewing mechanically and trying to rip his mind away from the wine below.
Another door drew Sidneys eye though, pulling him towards it. Inside he found the beginnings of what he was looking for.
He was reminded of the control room on Nublar. A large semicircle desk was adorned with numerous computer monitors. On the walls were stone carvings of fossilised creatures, and bookcases brimming with leather bound editions lined two walls. Incredibly, the computers were on. Sidney could see the dim light of their standby screens. He wasn't really sure how this would help them with the helicopter, or what he'd hoped to find. But it was a start. He took a step into the room when Andrea's voice cut through the quiet.
"Hammond likes his computers, eh?" Sidney half jumped out of his skin, his hands searching for his shotgun in his fright.
"Christ. Must you do that?"
"What's that, asesino?" smirked Andrea, moving into the room with a swagger and an apple in his hand. "You looking for anything in particular? Radio?"
"I don't know yet,'' said Sidney, following him. "Just, something. Anything. A radio would be good though. We might be able to send out a distress frequency. Might get a hit on the chopper radio. Might be a phone, maybe. Hammond might well have a direct line to Nublar."
"That's a lot of 'mights', asesino," said Andrea, tutting. Sidney frowned at him and followed him towards the desk of monitors. "Maybe we should move into this mansion, no? Accept that this is it for us." Sidney didn't answer him. Just stared grimly at the desk, oddly considering the option.
The desk was littered with papers, documents and blue-print style plans. Conceptual drawings for the Land Cruisers in the park, plans for the future attractions. And what looked like a script of some sort. Sidney read a few lines of the dialogue.
…"Ouch! John that hurt."
"Relax John, its all part of the miracle of cloning."
"Hello John. Hello John. Hello John *repeat*"…
Sidney shook his head, frowning at the utter gibberish. He moved to one of the monitors, tapping a few keys experimentally. The screen woke up out of standby and revealed an image. Looked like a live feed from a security camera. Andrea was looking at another screen, doing something similar.
"How do these have power?" asked Andrea, taking a big bite from the apple, a bead of juice running down his chin.
"Must be on their own generator or power supply. Separate from the main lines of the town. Only the best for Hammond." Sidney stooped down to look at the screen, working out what he was looking at.
It looked like the entrance of the visitor centre only it was in utter ruin. The huge replica fossils were scattered and smashed across the entire floorspace, bones and debris from the ceiling laying in a jumble. The huge red banner was strewn across the top of it. Sidney tapped a key a few times and the camera panned left, showing him more of the wreckage.
"What the hell?" he muttered. He looked at the time stamp. It was live. So there was power at the Park. But where was everyone? Why wasn't there anyone clearing it up? He punched in a few commands and brought the playback option up. He ran the feed back a few hours. The image remained unchanged. No sign of anyone. No movement. Just devastation. From the storm? Surely not. He knew the visitor centre was unfinished, but it should have been structurally sound enough to withstand the storm.
He ran it back a full twenty-four hours from the current time. Still the same. Sidney's frown was growing deeper. His guts cramping again, and not from hunger or any repressed craving. He ran it back a full day again. The camera time and date showed Sunday 12th June, at 17:23 pm. The scene was still unchanged. Sidney breathed out heavily, frustrated. Why wasn't this making sense? There should be people. Signs of clear up. Maybe someone had been hurt? Did they evacuate, just like here? He shook his head in confusion.
He ran it back yet again another twenty-four hours. The screen went blank. A small message was flashing in the centre of the screen.
No input.
"What the fuck is going on?" he said. He ran it back more. This time the screen picked up an image again. The visitor centre entrance looked at it should. The fossils were intact, people were moving about the place, painters, decorators and other workman. Some people were moving up the staircase, and Sidney could see Hammond in his white clothes, leading them, gesturing and talking. "So what the hell happened?"
He wound it forward this time. Would have been around Saturday evening. Again the screen went black.
No input.
On a few more hours.
No input.
He ran it on again. The screen picked up the feed again. The fossils were still intact. He shook his head again, wondering just what the hell happened there. Not the storm then. Movement caught his eye on the camera, and his mouth fell open.
People were moving down from the ceiling suddenly, quickly, onto the scaffolding beside the fossils. A man first, in a blue shirt. Then two children, a girl and a boy. Children? Sidney watched as a blonde woman followed them. They looked terrified. Exhausted. The boy had a limp.
Something made them all look up suddenly, but Sidney couldn't see what had drawn their attention. Then they were moving, climbing onto the back of the sauropod replica. What the hell were they doing? Then Sidney saw the velociraptor. It approached the upper floor railing, and then in a glitchy flash it leapt onto the fossil after the fleeing people.
Sidney watched open mouthed as the structure broke apart, and then began to fall to the floor. The people fell with it, rolling away or narrowly escaping being crushed. They regrouped, huddling together as the raptor appeared from the wreckage, herding them into the centre of the room. A second raptor appeared, pushing them back towards the first.
"My God…" Sidney breathed, unable to take his eyes off the scene. He waited for the inevitable, watching the second raptor crouching low as it prepared to pounce.
Then he saw her. The Rex. In a blur she appeared at the bottom corner of the screen, lunging for the raptor and grasping it in her jaws. A blur of action followed, thrashing heads and tails. Teeth and claws in silent chaos. All culminating in the destruction of the second display fossil and the deaths of the two raptors. Sidney lost track of the people. Had they escaped? He wasn't sure. He was still trying to comprehend the animals being in the visitor centre in the first place.
He moved to a different screen and punched in the commands, cycling through the different camera's available, running the footage back. Various locations and paddocks flashed by. The garage, the emergency bunker entrance, the interior of the control room. All showed mostly no signs of life, with the exception of a fleeting image of one of the brachiosaurs lumbering past the camera. Something seriously wrong had happened at the Park. Where was Robert? Where were any of the staff? Where the hell was Hammond?
"Asesino." Andrea's voice was tense. Sidney turned away from his screen and looked at what Andrea was staring at, the apple paused halfway to the man's mouth.
On the screen was a plane, tucked into a hangar. Looked like a single prop plane, not large. It took Sidney a moment to realise it was Hammonds private craft for touring the island. This island.
"Is this live?" asked Sidney.
"Si." A silence hung over the two men for a moment as they watched the plane in the hangar, every now and again a few drops of rainwater landing on the camera lens, distorting the image slightly. "I can fly that." Sidney looked at Andrea, his frown never leaving his face.
"What?"
"That aircraft, asesino. I can fly it. I have a license." Andrea went on staring at the screen.
"You have a fucking pilots license and didn't think to mention it?" Sidney turned to face him. Andrea just sniggered.
"I didn't think I'd be coming across many planes in this place." Sidney didn't know whether to hit the man or not. He settled against it, finding the sudden intensity of the situation as it dawned on him.
"We need to get there. The airstrip isn't far. Get the others. Now. We're fucking off."
"What about the others, asesino?"
"They are likely on that chopper and probably heading back to the mainland. We need to go now."
Sidney turned to leave, his knuckles brushing the neighbouring keyboard and illuminating the screen. Movement on it caught his eye.
There was someone on the screen. A man. Sidney bent lower, trying to work out what he was looking at. The man was in a room, an office of some sort. With wide glass doors leading to a courtyard. Not a courtyard he realised. It was the Embryonics Lab. And there was a bright light flickering in from the outside, throwing the shadow of the man into a jerking dance as he moved about the room. Sidney gasped. It was Adam.
"Fuck,'' he breathed. He tried to pan the camera but Adam moved out of shot quickly. He had moved with purpose, his movements urgent. What was he doing there? Sidney cycled through a few of the different cameras and landed on the Medical Room. More people. Three of them. Looked like two women and Captain Williams. Why were they all there? His mind was racing. He cycled through the cameras again, finding the external coverage of the loading and supply bay outside of the office. The blazing wreckage of a helicopter lay across it, fire burning in trailing lines across the concrete ground. Burning lines of fuel. A huge shadow moved against the wall. The shadow had a tail.
"My God,'' said Sidney. "The chopper."
"They got no way out,'' muttered Andrea. "Shit."
Sidney moved away from the desk and strode out, dashing down the stairs with Andrea trailing after him. Sidney found Anna and Harris by the front door, a bottle of water beside them and a few bits of food in their laps. They looked up as he approached, their faces dropping at the sight of him.
"What is it?" said Anna, struggling to her feet. Harris pushed himself up with his axe.
"Let's go,'' said Sidney, opening the front door and stepping out into the rain. The sky above was growing dark as he moved through the garden, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. He reached the Jeep and opened the driver's door, nodding at the others as they dashed to catch him up, their faces a mixture of confusion, concern and annoyance.
"Andrea,'' growled Sidney. "Get them to the airstrip. I'm going to the lab."
"What?" said Anna, her face locked in confusion. Sidney ignored her.
"Andrea."
"Si, asesino. I'll get them there." He looked at Sidney grimly. "And you?"
"Give me till morning,'' said Sidney. "You can't fly in this storm anyway. Find somewhere to hide up and wait for me. If I'm not back by nine, get going."
"Wait,'' said Harris. "What do you mean fly? And what lab? What the fuck are you guys talking about?" Sidney shook his head quickly.
"There are more survivors. At one of the labs. Your Captain too. I'm going to go get them."
"The Captain? Shit." Harris looked worried. "I'm coming with you."
"You don't need to. Go with Andrea." Harris shook his head.
"No, to hell with that. Williams is a good guy, and you've only got one eye. You need someone to watch your back. I'm coming." Sidney huffed. He didn't have time to argue.
"Fine. Andrea, get going. Make sure that plane is useable and we'll see you in the morning. Harris, with me then." Sidney thumped the Jeep and Andrea climbed in. Anna followed wordlessly, giving Harris a last look. A look Sidney knew all too well. Seemed they'd grown close, in such a short time. A few moments later the Jeep's engine rumbled to life and the lights lit up the dark road. Sidney watched as the Jeep drove away, the red taillights fading around the corner of a building.
"So, just how are we going to get to this lab?" Harris squinted against the rain. Sidney looked about the street, his eyes settling on a shape at the end of the road. He sniffed, settling on his option.
"There,'' he said, nodding at the shape. Harris followed his eyes, seeing the shuttle bus tucked against one of the buildings.
Wordlessly they set off towards it, Sidney's mind racing again with everything that had happened at the Park. Everything that had happened here. His home. The fear of going back out there was pushed aside at the chance to get those people out, to get them safe. To get Adam out, his last friend. He'd failed Grace. He wouldn't fail anyone else.
One more chance then.