Chapter Forty-five
While busy going over protocols with Isaac, who was desperately trying beyond all hope to remain calm and unfettered, one of the technician's seated at a monitor made a point to shoot up from their seat, drop their headphones from off their head, and point a wagging finger at the high-definition monitor in front of him. It hadn't occurred to him that everyone could already see what he'd brought up on the panel in front of the audience of people gathered in the room, but that was of little consequence, given the situation.
They began to gather, the ones within decent proximity, as Claire and Isaac were torn from their discussion in the corner, where'd she'd been trying not to panic over her and Hamada's disagreement. Her mind was busy tossing the thoughts of lethal confrontation with the Indominus when Isaac was whisked away to the technician, Claire following not two steps behind, all concerns and mental battle shoved aside with a sharp inhale of nervous breath.
"What's going on?" Isaac demanded, frowning over the technician's shoulder, who had re-seated himself at his workstation.
Pulling on his headset one again, the technician shook his head, aggravated and uncertain. "I dunno…she's veered off course," he began to rapidly pound at his keyboard, the monitor suddenly bringing up an aerial view of the Valley. "She's going into the Valley."
Claire's heart sank, almost immediately.
"How many dinosaurs are out there?" this was the voice if Lillian Wu, Henry Wu's eldest daughter and one of the lead geneticists on the island. She had her arms crossed around a tablet at her chest, looking tired and perplexed, with a hint of sorrow pulling at her delicate features. Claire managed to share a look with her for a moment before she asked again, "Do we have an exact number?"
The technician shook his head, looking across the room to another workstation, this time manned by a beautiful black woman with dreadlocks down past her waist. He pointed at the technician, and asked her to bring up the Valley live roster, which would give them an accurate number of dinosaurs at home in the Valley's coordinates.
She spat out a number somewhere in the hundreds, but Claire didn't hear it. Instead, she felt for her phone, retrieved it, and punched in Zach's cell number, once more. Instead of the dreaded ringing connecting the call, his phone immediately sent her to voicemail, sparking a fleck of concern in her chest, again.
And then, she felt a shiver rush down her spine, one that she couldn't – and didn't – want to place.
The issued SUV didn't have much difficulty trekking up the inclines of the Valley's rough terrain. Marianne was surprised the drive went as effectively as it had, given the vast amounts of rain the island and seen in recent weeks, but she quickly pushed aside the thought that this very place was where she had felt, for the first time, the entirety of her feelings for Owen. It was the last thing to be thinking about, really, but if she were honest, it was the only thing she could bring herself to think that wouldn't nauseate her.
As they crested the hill, Owen navigating the vehicle's gears like an expert, there was a falling sense of dread that pitted itself in the core of her stomach. Sour and cold, it meant nothing good, but at the same time, she was desperate to confront the foreboding waiting to greet her at the top of the hill; Valley stretched out before them like a canvas of green paradise.
However, she gasped when she saw the unfurled paradise, her stomach churning like a sick pot of boiling acid. Her heart dropped down her throat and into her gut, and for a moment Marianne thought she might throw up right then in the passenger's seat. However, Owen didn't waste any time, and took one look at the Valley below them before getting out the SUV, looking determined and grieved.
The valley had been massacred. While once, it had teemed with a variety of life and the coexistence of many species together in one ecosystem, it was now veiled in a shadow of quiet loneliness, life extinguished by the invasion of one moment of chaos, and foolishness.
The hybrid had someone managed to enter the Valley, bringing with her a hectic force of death, destruction, and power. Owen had been right; she was seeing everything for the first time, and was establishing her place of dominance in the food chain, and had made quick work of it – all around were dead bodies of the majestic creatures of the Valley; torn open brutally in a show of strength and ferocity. From her place on the hill, Marianne could only see two of the creatures had been subject to the monster's hunger, the rest of them slain in a rush of heated instinct and force.
A foreboding quiet hung over the Valley like a blanket of death, seemingly working away all breathable air. I was profoundly difficult to concentrate on anything else but crying, but Marianne forced herself not to cry – she couldn't afford to lose it in the Valley, now. There wasn't time to grieve, because these bodies were freshly killed, and that meant that she was still out there, establishing her territory and killing anything that might present a challenge to her authoritative dominance.
The other thought that blasted into the back of Marianne's mind like a heavy wave was the Control Center, and how no one had managed to see the creature enter the Valley – and, worse yet, no one had done anything to intervene otherwise. While, in hindsight and better judgement, Marianne realized nothing could really be done about a multiple-thousands-of-pound killing machine at the moment, it still didn't stop anger from flaring alive in her gut like a molten pot of hot steel.
At the thought of that monster still roaming freely through the park, tears welled in the corner of her eyes yet again, reminding her how exhausted she was. Lingering trauma haunted the back rooms of her mind, all roaring for attention in the core of her chest, pushing her to almost scream. Instead, Marianne just sat back in the seat, looking at the expanse of horror before her, the back of her mind spinning with rage, grief, and fear as Owen began the trek down the hill, to the Valley's floor.
The sag in his shoulders were evidence enough that he too was tired and beyond his depth. Sophie had fallen asleep in the back of the SUV, thankfully, and snored tiredly behind Marianne's seat. Glancing over her shoulder into the back of the vehicle, she watched Sophie sleep soundly, her chest rising and falling with each breath. The girl, for the first time that day, looked at peace, though Marianne knew that the hours to come would ensure otherwise.
She wasn't sure whether or not to leave the girl alone in the SUV, lest she awake to the traumatizing state of the Valley, so weighing her options, Marianne decided to gently slip out of the front seat and hope the stirring of the vehicle didn't wake her.
A light breeze whipped her hair over her shoulder as her feet found the saturated earth, making her curls dance around her face teasingly. Slipping slightly atop the slick surface, she managed to close the door with a gentle thump, watching for any signs that Sophie might've awaken. When she was satisfied the girl was still asleep, Marianne turned from the vehicle, and focused her attention on the Valley again, the wind sending a chill down her spine.
Warm and heavy, the air brought with it the rancid smell of danger and death, and for the first time, Marianne stepped into the full depth of the situation spread before her like a scroll. Her stomach plummeted down past her knees as her eyes anchored on the nearest animal at the base of the hill, where Owen was approaching. She couldn't remove her eyes from the fixation even if they'd been plucked from her skull, so instead her mind began to spin with the revelation of what had happened. The deep gash marks across her torso seeped blood into the earth like a sieve, as entrails bled into the earth from a gaping hole in her chest cavity. Even from atop the hill, her smell was phenomenally overpowering.
Marianne hitched a breath, and before she could look away, she immediately doubled over and vomited behind the vehicle's front tire, feeling sick as her mind filled with the scene in a spread that she'd not soon forget – a spread of death, pain, and physical dismemberment so strong that she knew she'd never be able to look upon an animal the same way again. Once she'd finished, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and pressed a hand to her churning abdomen before daring to make her way down the hill to join Owen.
As she began her descent, she saw he was at the base of the hill now, walking towards the remains of the defeated Brachiosaur. Marianne could smell the tinge of iron from her blood even as she carefully trekked her way down the hill, noticing that with each step, the smell of flesh became stronger. Determined not to throw up again, she stelled her jaw and raised her a chin a few inches, side-stepping uneven ground, before her eyes latched onto the massive print pressed into the hill, now a muddy remainder of the nightmare which had befallen this place.
The print was massive, unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Bigger than that of a Tyrannosaur, the perfect imprint was deep enough to step down into, with a wide heel and thick digits. The claws, however, had stabbed into the earth so deeply that rainwater had pooled within the hole left behind. Marianne was promoted to step fully into the print, and crouched to examine the depth of the middle claw mark, dipping her hand into the muddy water which had collected there. Her hand was immersed up to her wrist, and when she withdrew it, she noticed the mud and water was tainted red.
This was only small evidence of how massive this animal was, and how much earth she could move should she even try. Leaving behind such a footprint meant she was heavier than Marianne had previously assumed, and given the way the print was laid into the ground, she knew how to navigate slopes and terrain unlike any other animal Marianne had witnessed. And, given that the hybrid's toes were splayed even more so than that of the Tyrannosaur's, she had the sinking feeling that the genetics were far more advanced than she - or anyone else, for that matter - had anticipated.
Owen must have noticed she'd started descending the hill, because he gestured over his shoulder with a hand for her to come. As she approached, her throat slowly began to clamp close, and it was getting difficult to breathe. Her stomach had hiked up into her chest, and she felt like she'd vomit again, as the scent of death and blood was more overwhelming than before. She stepped over a pooled puddle of blood mixed with water and mud, and stepped up beside Owen.
"It's dead," he said, bluntly.
His voice was void of emotion, but his eyes were narrowed with suspicion and fierce anger. They flickered with something Marianne had seen before in Blue, actually, and it worried her as she slipped her arm through his and took his hand, carefully. Pulling close to him, she rested her chin on his shoulder and swallowed back a shaking breath, unable to come up with a statement that would suffice for the moment.
She didn't have to, because Owen beat her to it. "It's didn't even eat her, Marianne." All she could do was nod slowly as the realization sunk into her skull and he continued, "That thing is killing for sport."
"I know," was the only thing she breathed.
Reaching out a hand, Owen pressed his palm flesh against the animal's elongated neck, and stepped towards her fallen body. Looking to her face, he moved towards it, and reached to rest a hang against the flat plane of her nose, rubbing his thumb gently across the thick skin. Marianne could scarcely believe the Valley around her, covered in death and blood, and decided to focus her attention on Owen and the moment stretched before her. Approaching him, she crouched beside him, and rested her hand beside his own, taking his other to give it a light squeeze.
When she saw a tear escape Owen's eye, Marianne had to swallow a shallow sob. Biting her lower lip, she let her hand from the animal, and wrapped both arms around Owen's shoulder, resting her head on his shoulder. They sat there, quiet and numb, for what seemed like hours, until Owen reached over to place his hand gently on top of hers. He rested his chin on her arm, which was still wrapped around him, and released a heavy sigh.
"This is my fault," he murmured quietly, "If I hadn't insisted we go down and inspect the paddock, none of this would have happened. No one would be dead." The uneasiness in his voice would've been difficult to identify, had Marianne not felt the kick of his heart within his chest, quickly followed by shaking.
Marianne's head snapped to attention. "What? You can't really think that, Owen,"
He batted her embrace away, and looked away, covering his face with a hand. "It's true," he said, softly, "it was me who suggested we go down there. I was mad at Claire about our conversation, and didn't even think about protocol. I was sloppy, and people are dead for it."
Marianne found it profoundly difficult not to let her jaw hang open in disbelief. For a beat, she was beyond mad that one conversation with Claire Dearing could shake Owen's confidence - but then, seeing the grief in the expression on his face, she realized it didn't matter.
None of this was normal for Owen - normally, he was bereft and like a rock; confident, strong, and steady - but today, Marianne saw a deeper vulnerability then she had even with Delta's emergency surgery. She suddenly felt very grateful to be beside him, even in such a horrific mess of things.
Really, in honesty, Marianne couldn't imagine being here with anyone else.
She gulped back an empathetic breath, and brushed the dried mud from her hand onto her jeans. "That's not true, Owen. You had no idea - you assumed the worst for the best reason possible, and that is honorable." She rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "This...this was out of your control." She inhaled sharply, "This was out of everyone's control."
He looked over at her, eyes struggling to remain dry. Running the back of his hand beneath his dripping nose, he used the other to cup her cheek in his palm, and caressed her skin gently with his thumb. He looked relieved that she was there - as relieved as any one human could be.
"Pretty smart for a field assistant," he jibed, ultimately ignoring her statement. Deciding not to push the issue, Marianne's heart lifted when the corner of his mouth pulled with a smile. "Claire was right in bringing you on board, Annie."
She snorted. "If there's one thing Claire Dearing and I agree on, it's that someone has to keep you in line and on schedule," she looked back towards the hill, where the SUV was resting at the top, undisturbed. "We should go. I don't want Sophie to wake up alone." They booth stood, and turned away from the fallen animal's remains, slowly.
"It feels wrong to just walk away," Marianne added quietly, as they began carefully making their way up the slick hill. Their boots fell into the earth heavily, sinking into the muck and mire left behind from the onslaught of rain.
Owen wrapped an arm around her shoulder, this time taking the responsibility of comforting her. "We gotta get those boys," he said softly, "better to find them while they're still alive than stay here with something that's already dead."
She nodded, understanding. "I know." Owen then took her hand, and gave it a light squeeze as he guided her up the hill. Once at the SUV, both of them checked in on Sophie, finding her still asleep.
Marianne rounded the SUV to the passenger's side, just as Owen was opening the door to his side of the vehicle. Brushing off the seat, Marianne looked up just as Owen was slipping in behind the wheel. Grabbing the overhead grip, Marianne pulled herself into the seat, sat down gently, and pulled the seatbelt to lock it in place.
Owen started the vehicle, and she asked, "So, how do you suppose we find the boys?"
He pulled out his cell phone, and handed it to her, smoothly. "Call up to the Control Center, and ask for Lowry. He should be able to bring up GPS on the Gyrosphere, and he'll be able to point us in the right direction from the Valley. It's on speed dial, number two," he flashed her two fingers, and shifted the vehicle into first gear.
Opening his window, Owen peeked his head out while guiding the car slowly, Marianne putting the phone to her ear. Leaning across the console, she wrinkled her brow at him. "What do you see?"
"Nothing good," he shook his head slowly, and pushed the accelerator.
When Marianne looked out her own window, she saw the trail of giant footprints left behind in the Valley, all going the direction in which Owen was currently driving. As her call connected, she felt her stomach drop even farther than it had before they'd entered the Valley.
Author's Note: Hello, friends! So I know it's been forever (how many times will I say it, you ask? Probably a million). But, here's an update! Trying to tidy this up! I have so many other fanfiction ideas, but I'm still so in love with Marianne and Owen that I can't give up on them! Enjoy, and please, if you've managed to stick around, hit a button below that's good, and leave a happy comment! Your reviews mean the world and the survival of Owen, Marianne, Sophie, and Alan!