Author's Note: Hey there again! So here's another chapter - I am glad to say that we are out of the jungle, thankfully. I felt like that would never end. This is a bit slow of a chapter, but it cleans up some holes in the details that have been bothering me, and opens the door for some Henry/Alan/Ellie conversation that is to come.
Really appreciate your reviews! Big shout out to TenebrisSagittarius who has been helping me mop up some loose ends, and to MoparGirl1 who has let me bounce ideas off of her!
PS - I was a good girl (debatable honestly) and posted a teaser prologue for the sequel, Before We Fall. I was plagued by a plot bunny that would NOT leave me alone, and I couldn't wait. By all means give that a read if you want to skip ahead to Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, but don't worry - we're finishing this before I update any more of that story. I just had an Owen/Marianne scene that needed to be written and off my chest so I could continue. Sorry, but not sorry, I think?
Chapter Fifty
The cool blast of air from the Samsung Innovation Center may have been comforting in the stifling heat of the afternoon, had Alan not been shouldering past mulling guests, Ellie's hand firmly planted in his own. The press of people was almost overwhelming, but his focused gaze on the elevators gave him the resolve he needed. He could almost feel the skip of fear in his blood, his heart throbbing against his chest.
Finally breaking free of the mob, Alan was half expecting a fight to board one of the cars, but was pleasantly surprised when a well-dressed woman locked eyes with him, a look of relief on her features. She hurried to them, her heels ticking against the granite floors, until she gestured for them to follow, introducing herself swiftly as Zara, an assistant to the operations manager.
"I have instructions to bring you upstairs immediately," she said, scanning her card in front of the reader outside the employee's elevator. "There's been a situation," was her last comment as the car leveled off, allowing her to slip inside smoothly.
Alan was frankly surprised as he exchanged a confused look with Ellie, and extended his arm to keep the door from closing automatically. His brow furrowed in suspicion, though the woman hadn't seemed to notice as she pressed the indicator button marked Control Room, her face full of color despite the evident apprehension in her gaze. She paused when Alan and Ellie didn't move into the car with her.
"Well?" She questioned them. "Is there some kind of problem?"
Her British lilt was flawless, though Alan wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "No, no I don't think you understand," he looked to Ellie, "there isn't anyone up there that would ask to see either of us." His tone was careful, afraid the words would break their chance to intervene and get information.
Ellie stepped up beside him inside the door, and frowned as if to tell him to be quiet. He broke his gaze with her as she looked back to the assistant, who looked dumbfounded. "Who is looking for us?" was her question.
Nervously and with an air of confusion, the woman looked only mildly concerned as she glanced between them, gesturing with a finger. "Henry Wu," was her slow reply, her brow furrowing deeper into concern. "You are doctors Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler?"
Ellie and Alan shared a look. Without anymore hesitation, Alan stepped into the elevator, Ellie falling into place beside him. The doors chimed, closed automatically, and within the seconds the car ascended, Zara giving them a both an uneasy look that said she wasn't sure what had happened just moments before.
The car leveled at the Control Room, which was alive with activity but well contained despite the events of the afternoon. At their arrival, a few individuals turned to consider them, though Zara pressed on confidently, her chin raised in determination as she approached the redheaded woman in white, whom Alan recalled was the operations manager, Claire. Her chilling look of control and precision nailed him in his gut for only a moment, the intelligence in her eyes almost off-putting. She looked between Alan and Ellie critically for a brief second, a look of relief flooding her face.
"Dr. Grant, Dr. Sattler," she extended her hands to both of them, exhaling a deep breath. "I am so glad you are alright. I was hoping you would be close by. We have a situation, and Henry requested your presence." Her tone dropped to a whisper as she glanced around the room, Alan's gaze following her. It landed on Henry Wu, who stood in the corner talking on the phone. His daughter, Lillian, was rapidly going through data on a tablet, a file open to her right as she squeezed herself into a small workspace near an empty desk.
Carefully, he considered Claire. "What exactly have you got on your hands, Miss Dearing?" His tone was grave, and it sobered the fake smile from the woman's face. Immediately her gaze dropped to the floor for a microsecond, before she glanced back up at him, something uneasy passing through her eyes. Alan recalled the look. "I see," was all he had to say, and he turned to cross to Wu.
Seeing his approach, Henry immediately ended his call and slipped his phone into his back pocket. Aging well as a silver fox, Alan couldn't help but think the man had grown so far from the young scientist he had met so long ago with John Hammond. But his naiveté hadn't matured as much as his looks had, though he wouldn't argue with age. He pinned Wu with a look, Ellie detouring to introduce herself to Lillian.
"Dr. Grant, I'm glad you could make it," he said apprehensively, a nervous hand slipping into his pocket. He extended the other, almost in a peace-offering kind of way, and Alan shook it firmly, but briefly. "I just received a disturbing call from Vic Hoskins –"
Alan dismissed the man's statement with a shake of his head, and clapped a hand on Wu's shoulder. "You didn't want to see me about a phone call, Henry," his tone was quiet, though telling, and he turned Wu away from the busyness of the room, to face the corner. The man's eyes connected with the wall, looking lost.
Alan could feel uncertainty and fear radiating off the man, and something sunk deep within his gut. Worry for Marianne and Owen consumed him, and skipped through his head, though he willed himself to the present, more concerned with the situation unfolding before him. Wu had a distant, remorseful look on his face, and Alan could feel the regret coming to the surface, even now. He closed his eyes, released a shaky breath, and gave the man's shoulder a friendly and reassuring, squeeze.
"Okay, Henry," he started slowly, "tell me – what have you got?"
. . .
Marianne ran until the world started to blur behind black spots, which danced across her vision. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she doubled over to try and ease the throbbing pain in her chest, placing a steady hand on the stitch that burned against her ribs in her side. She saw Owen fall to his knees beside her, taking Sophie in his arms as they heaved for air.
Even through the trees, they could hear the creatures in the sky, screaming overhead as they soared beneath the sun. The Dimorphodons and Pteranodon's now sprung from the Aviary thanks to the Indominous, had taken a matter of seconds to blanket the sky, passing over the jungle's canopy loudly, their calls and flapping wingspans loud in the open air. Glancing up, Marianne watched them stream by, fear gripping her all over again, new mental horrors passing through her mind.
"They're headed towards the park," she said quietly, tears burning behind her eyes. She willed herself not to cry anymore, the effort too exhausting. She straightened, hand still pressed to her side and she moved to Owen, offering him a strong hand as he stood slowly. His breathing had returned to normal, and he squinted up through the canopy, watching the creatures dive and whirl through the air effortlessly.
He swore. "Well, this couldn't get worse," he mumbled, rolling his eyes. Looking to Marianne, he realized his statement and sighed, shoulders drooping. After a quiet moment, he draped an arm over her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze, Marianne taking a moment to breathe in his smell. Any other time it would have been revolting, though it comforted her now. "You holding up okay?"
She snorted, dismissive. "Oh yeah, Owen, I'm just peachy," she jokingly swatted him away, and then moved to bat a fallen piece of vine from her side. Glancing around the jungle, a sudden blanket of concern fell over her, shadowing any lightheartedness Owens's gesture may have birthed. "You have idea where we are?"
He didn't even hesitate. "Sure do," he said cheekily. "Main road is right up there, should pop out close to the housing sector," he referenced his home casually, a look of relief coming across his face. "From there we should be able to get to the park quick enough." He looked right at home as he said it, as if the statement were the most casual thing in the world.
Dumbfounded, Marianne's brows rose. "Really. How do you know that?" Her tone was doubtful, as was the expression she gave him. She was surprised when he laughed, something she felt like he hadn't done in hours. He shrugged his shoulders, taking a knee on the jungle floor and gesturing for Sophie to come.
"Don't sound so skeptical, sweetheart," he ribbed her, giving her an incredulous look. "I was in the Navy, remember?" He wagged his brows, though if the look was meant to be suggestive, it wasn't. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek nervously.
Her brow rose skeptically. "And somehow that supernaturally gives you tracking powers or something?" While she hadn't intended to sound so crass, she couldn't help the edge in her voice. The blood coursing steady pain into her head made sure of that. She swatted at an insect that buzzed around her hear, sweat falling between her shoulders.
He snorted at her. "No, genius," he teased her again, "Try those power lines right over there," he looked up, gesturing with a hand to draw her attention. Sure enough, poking through the canopy overhead were power lines, humming with life overhead.
Beaten, Marianne glanced down at her feet, feeling ridiculous. She hardly noticed that Owen had removed the rifle from over his shoulder, and now handed it to her casually. "Hold this for me, will ya?"
She nodded, accepting the weapon. Looping the strap across her own shoulders, she accepted its weight. Owen quickly gave her a once over, and Marianne gripped the strap in her hands, her nails biting into the leather as she looked to the power lines again. After a moment, she looked back at Owen, who was grinning at her stupidly.
"You okay?"
He nodded. "Oh yeah," he gestured to the rifle now slung behind her. "I just like the way that looks on you," he winked at her, Sophie moving to wrap her arms over his shoulders. He graciously helped her onto his back.
Marianne rolled her eyes, scoffing at him. She tried to contain her chuckle, but couldn't. Heat rushed up her neck to blossom on her nose, and she stepped forward, out of Owen's view. Briefly she wondered how any man could manage to make her blush during a life-or-death crisis, though she dismissed the thought. Owen wasn't "any" man.
Owen accepted Sophie on his back, the little girl's head falling on his shoulder sleepily as she held to him. "Jeez, little bug, you sure ain't small anymore," he grunted, and gave Marianne a light smirk as he adjusted the additional weight, obviously satisfied that he could manage.
After a moment he sidestepped a large rock and began moving forward, Marianne close behind him. They moved effortlessly, hardly disturbing the foliage of the jungle, until the humming of the power lines overhead grew louder. With a bat of his hand, Owen moved aside the leaves of a bush, exposing the emptiness of the maintenance road which led to the housing sector, evidenced by posted signage a stone's throw from their position.
Stunned but unwilling to show it, Marianne stepped onto the road, gravel crunching beneath her boots. Relief flooded her, and she felt infinitely safer, knowing they were at least near civilization. Owen gently coaxed Sophie off his back and took her hand, nudging her forward with gentle tugs as he gestured to the sign.
"We'll swing by housing and see if anyone is still out there," he instructed. "Plus, I'd feel better if we were more armed than we are." Recalling Owen expressing that her weapons had been stored in his closet, Marianne nodded her understanding, not able to deny the blossom of reassurance that sprouted in her stomach.
It wasn't a long walk to the housing sector, and they arrived to find the place all but deserted, and overrun at that. Owen's bungalow was the only untouched lot remaining, the rest torn apart in the rush to organize and evacuate. Weaving through discarded possessions, they arrived at his lot and took the stairs of his bungalow two at at a time, Owen bursting through the door swiftly. He crossed the house, disappearing into the back room as Marianne situated Sophie on the kitchen counter.
Moving to the fridge, she passed a bottle of water to the girl, who cracked the lid and downed the fresh liquid quickly. Marianne chugged one herself, before scouring Owen's fridge for any other provisions. Finding nothing, she opened the freezer and withdrew a cold pack, moving it between her hands. Turning to Sophie, she situated the pack against the back of the girl's neck, hoping the chill would break some of the hot color and sweat from her face.
The poor girl had bleeding cuts and bruises everywhere, and Marianne offered her a careful smile. "You doing alright, Sophie?" she asked tenderly, considering the girl's fragile state. Surprisingly, the little girl nodded rapidly, then removed the pack from behind her own neck and reached up to situate it behind Marianne's.
"I'm okay," she said confidently, though her voice was small. "I want to go home." Her words hung in the air heavily, grabbing Marianne's heart. She touched the girl's face, brushing aside her frazzled hair as she nodded her understanding. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," was her finishing thought.
Marianne gave her a half smile, sighing deeply. She remembered that Sophie had come to the island thanks to a birthday present, intent on spending time with her uncle, and the dinosaurs that she loved. "I know. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all."
Giving the girl one last soft smile, Marianne pulled her into a light hug, trying to smooth her hair softly. All was quiet, and she would've forgotten the trauma leading up to the moment had Owen not swung into the room, her bow over his shoulder and hands full of backpacks and gear. He dropped them on the counter next to Sophie, gave her a sympathetic look, and pushed one of the bags to Marianne.
"I believe these are yours," he said with a playful edge. Marianne worked open the backpack to find that Owen had, indeed, kept her weapons as promised. Her KA-BAR blade and Beretta were untouched, nestled inside the bag with a few of Owen's personal items – a passport, his wallet, a few family photos, and other stray items.
He was shouldering a backpack when she looked back to him, noticing that he'd strung another knife holster around his waist, her bow and quiver now deposited next o the counter. He'd put on a fresh shirt, though his stained vest remained. Quickly he reached into the bag, tossed her one of his teeshirts, and nodded to her.
"Get those bloody clothes off," he said swiftly, "We're walking buffets if we're carrying around open blood."
Marianne hurriedly did as he instructed, discarding her former clothes on the floor, not even stopping to notice that Owen and Sophie both had frozen, watching her as she wrangled herself into his shirt. It was a bit tight across the chest, but she didn't care, instead throwing her hair up into a bun with the hair tie she'd taken from her braid. Working her bow and quiver into place, she stopped and considered the pair. Heat made its way to her face as she realized what they'd witnessed.
"Oh. Uh..." She nodded to Owen, slinging the backpack onto her shoulder, "You should get anything else you want to salvage out of here," she gestured to the room around them. "I doubt we'll get another chance when this is over."
He blinked at her, Marianne noticing the fresh sweat beaded on his forehead, as well as the color on his face. Hardly registering her statement, he shook his head, and took Sophie's hand, helping her off the counter. Approaching Marianne, he took her chin in his fingers, and tipped her head back to look at him. Her breath caught, and her heart hammered.
"I think I've got everything I need right here," he said, his voice returning to that bourbon low that sent chills down her spine. Marianne was desperate to kiss him then, but he moved away from her before she could, towards the door in purposeful strides.
Flinging open the door, he scanned the surrounding area, not finding much by way of vehicles. Next door, an ATV sat unused, its seat removed to expose the engine. He jogged over to it, unshouldered his pack, and began fiddling with the innards of the machine as Marianne came up beside him. Eyeing the mess beneath his hands, she glanced at him.
"What can I do?"
He gestured over his shoulder. "Phone. Call Claire and ask her if they've been able to get eyes on those boys at all," he began reattaching battery cables. "And tell her that everyone needs moved inside, if they haven't done it already."
Marianne pulled his phone from his pocket, found Claire in his contact's register, and dialed the number. It went straight to voicemail, though it didn't matter, because Owen was already replacing the ATV's seat, moving to turn the key and fire the machine to life. It gave a throaty roar and he fed it gas, gesturing for her and Sophie to get on. Marianne swung on first, Sophie scrambling up to lace her arms around her middle.
Owen grabbed his pack again, jogging to where his motorcycle was parked beneath a tree on his lot. After a few moments he kicked it to life, gave it a few revs, and waved Marianne to fall into line behind him. She guided the ATV, following after him as he took off in a cloud of dust, sunlight glinting off the Marlin strapped behind him. If they hadn't been fleeing for their lives, Owen on a motorcycle may have been the sexiest thing Marianne had ever seen.
She gunned the engine to keep up with him, the ATV spitting up gravel as they did. The wind in her face may have been refreshing had she the time to realize it, but in a matter of minutes they rocketed up the maintenance road to the park, its large doors and massive buildings coming into view over the trees. Hope sent a surge through her blood, and Marianne felt her heart pound against her ribs, relief washing over her like a cool stream.
That was before she heard the horrifying screams, erupting as the figure of diving dinosaurs overshadowed the midway of Jurassic World.