Author's note: In this chapter, the part marked in bold (Doctor's Note) is taken from the game. With that said, read on!

Chapter One: The Cretaceous Welcome Wagon

Initial Location: Dock/Carrier Lot

Covered in dark brown earth, the two landed in a small, fenced-in area, two doors going in different directions. Checking themselves for any damage during the long tumble down the hill, there appeared to be no signs of major damage. Of course, there would be bruises, and possibly a few minor scrapes, but other than that, the two were fine, and most importantly, alive. The T.R.A.T. soldier held his pounding head as he slowly rose to his feet, the adrenaline wearing off.

"So this is the Cretaceous way of welcoming guests, huh?" he asked, talking to the female soldier. "Not exactly the red carpet treatment."

She looked around, noticed the two doors—one was covered in thick ivy, and the other apparently electronically locked. Looking down at her wrist intercom, she pressed the talk button, but got nothing.

"This is Regina," she spoke. "Anyone read me?" No reply. "Damn…nothing."

The soldier brushed himself off, and took a look in Regina's direction. "I'm pretty sure my team's alright…there's more than a thousand survivors." He began to walk to the ivy-laden door. "Let's get moving."

Regina walked forward to the ivy-bound door. She reached for the handle and gave it a few quick tugs. It wouldn't budge at all. Sighing, she turned to the soldier. "There's ivy wrapped around that door—it's too thick and won't open. Let's try the other one." She turned and began to walk the opposite direction.

He flashed a toothy grin, and pulled out his machete. "Aww, come on," he began. "Didn't they teach you how to open a door in training? Here. I'll show you."

He walked to the door and raised his machete high. "Watch this." He brought the weapon down, slicing a great chunk of the dark, green ivy. Another mighty swing, and more ivy fell to the floor.

Regina smirked. "Umm…yeah. That weapon definitely suits a T.R.A.T. member. I prefer to go this way," she said, pulling out her stun gun, which looked more like a small light saber than an actual gun. See ya, Mr. Barbarian."

"The name's Dylan! Call me that when you need some help, okay?"

Regina touched the stun gun to the electronic lock, unlocking it. Without saying another word, she opened the door and left, leaving Dylan alone with his machete, taking notice of her buttocks as she walked off.

She's a slick one…not to mention a hot one…

Clearing that male thought out of his head, he returned to the priority at hand…the survivors. With another swing of his machete, he took enough of the ivy off to free the lock mechanism, and with a push, the door swung open. The door opened into a beaten path, probably signs of being a major thoroughfare for people. All around him, dense, thick green jungle, lending no possible visibility inside; in short, he was quite vulnerable—a raptor, or a creature more dangerous could leap out without warning. Dylan had to be on his guard at all times. He ran at a quick pace, his sight focused at looking at the path ahead. To his left was a fence, with a door blocked by a couple of metal crates. The path ahead branched off in opposite directions, both directions unclear of what lie therein.

A loud screech cut through the air, sounding way too close for comfort. His head quickly turning, he saw a raptor leap onto a large, worn metal crate next to him.

You again…

He raised his gun to shoot, when a second later, he heard another shrill screech, this one also close by, but different in location, judging by the rustling. His eyes shifted, giving him a peripheral view, and out of the corner of his eye, another one of the reptilian creatures was creeping up behind him. Just seconds later, another of the creatures broke through the growth several feet ahead.

He was trapped, surrounded by dinosaurs, slowly creeping up on him. The pounding in his heart grew, thundering in his chest, seeming as if each beat was amplified many times, possibly to where even the encroaching creatures could hear it. His finger rested on the trigger, his hand remaining steady despite the danger rapidly increasing. In unison, the three of them crouched into an attack position, looking as if all three of them would go at once.

Wait for it…

They opened their mouths, revealing rows of sharp teeth, able to pierce a human and rip him apart instantly. Each one of them let out a heavy hiss.

Wait for it…

The one atop the metal crate leaped, shrieking, its claw outstretched.

NOW!

With amazing reflex, he aimed the shotgun up at the leaping creature and fired off three rounds in quick succession, knocking the creature out of the air. The hot shells fired at point-blank range ripped into the creature's body, taking huge chunks of skin, muscle and blood out, raining it down on the ground near Dylan. A split second later, the one behind leaped into the air, attempting to get him from behind. The creature in front broke into a full run, its ugly head bent low, as if in an attempt to run him down. Dylan quickly dove to his side, out of the way of the running dinosaur, also missing the leaping creature. He aimed his gun at the runner, and fired another three rounds into the creature's backside, sending the thing stumbling to the ground, roaring in pain. It wasn't going to get back up, not with a good sized gouge torn into the left side of the reptile. It would be left fatally wounded.

The one remaining quickly turned around and ran toward the grounded soldier, its powerful legs giving it amazing speed—it'd be on him in just a few seconds. Lying on the ground, Dylan brought the shotgun to his face and aimed at the creature's head. It shrieked, a shrill screech of anger, let out another hiss, not knowing the fate Dylan was about to administer to it. It was just under probably a hundred feet away now--it would be on him in a couple seconds. It bowed its head low, ready to kill its prey—

--BANG!

The hot slug tore with lightning velocity into the creature's huge head, ripping a massive chunk of its jaw right off, sending bits of tongue, tooth, bone, and blood onto the surrounding ferns. The creature attempted a roar of pain, but let out a strange, gurgling sound as it began to choke on its own blood, coursing out of the newly-made orifice in its face. Reloading, Dylan once more took aim at the wounded creature, and fired another quick shell into what was left of the creature's face, taking whatever was left. The raptor stopped in his tracks, and fell quickly to the ground, blood quickly pooling around the lifeless corpse.

Dylan slowly rose to his feet, feeling a bit accomplished. He looked at the three dead raptor carcasses around him, and with a smug grin, he reloaded his shotgun and moved forward, whistling as he went.

His arrival at the water tower was a welcome relief to his tested body. The journey along the North Route to this point was ridden with raptors, which had left him out-of-breath, thirsty, but most importantly, he had become aware of how much ammo he had left. Breathing heavily, he propped himself against a wall, and began to catch his breath.

There's just too many of them…they're everywhere.

For a brief instance, he considered calling for Regina, but quickly dismissed the idea, thinking that she was probably busy having her own time with the raptors.

--------------------------------

It appeared to be a safe zone, the water tower area fortified with high stone walls on all sides. Large pipes ran the length of the walls, stemming from the water tower located on a platform fifty or sixty feet away from Dylan's position. It was covered in what looked like rust, rendering it useless. He got up and began to walk, scanning the area for anything of importance. To his left, a tiny walkway leading to another door, of which would take him somewhere unfamiliar, perhaps to the survivors. He reached for the handle and pulled, but it wouldn't give. Locked. Turning around, he decided to investigate what was further down, behind the stone platform with the water tower. He walked back into open ground, when suddenly, a flying disk-like object whizzed past his ear, exploding a couple feet behind him.

What the--?!

A human figure, dressed in tight, tight black shorts, a tight black jacket, its face helmeted so as to not reveal identity, pointed a strange-looking gun at the alarmed T.R.A.T. soldier. Judging by the legs and curvature of the body, this was undoubtedly a female with an agenda to dispatch him for whatever reason. She fired another one of those disks at him, in which he dove out of the way. It exploded on the ground a couple feet past him. She quickly turned and ran, Dylan wasting no time in giving chase.
"Hey! Who are you? Are you one of the survivors?" He called, but to no avail. He ran down along the corridor, behind the water tower, where the female figure shot another disk. Dylan ducked back behind the safety of the stone platform as the disk exploded into the wall next to him, pieces of rubble raining down on the ground.

What the hell is she doing? Whoever she is, she doesn't want to be caught, that's for damn sure.

"Don't run away!" Dylan called from behind the structure. "I'm here to help you! We came here to rescue you!" He grabbed his shotgun and ran out into open ground—and the helmeted figure was gone, as quick as she had come, leaving no trace.

"What…?" Dylan began, his voice trailing off before the rest could be uttered. He quickly turned around, ran back toward the entrance, saw nothing, ran back to where he just was, also nothing.

Who was she…?

Just ahead of Dylan was another door, probably the one the female left from. Walking briskly, he opened the door, and his eyes saw wreckage. On both sides of the path, busted, twisted, and gnarled fencing lined it, the work of the jungle creatures. An overturned jeep sat jammed into a fence. Ahead, the path forked—to the left, the path went into a tunnel or something. To the right, the path veered to more unfamiliarity. Dylan on his guard now, he walked briskly through the ruin. At the fork, he glanced to his left, and noted the path into the tunnel was blocked—the ceiling caved in, and there was plant life growing all over it…there was no way for him to get around it. Glancing to his right, it was the only thing that seemed normal here, seemingly untouched. The worn path was lined with high fence, and at the end, another door. Faced with no other option, Dylan quickly ran to the door, and he saw, several hundred feet ahead, a clearing. He had stumbled into an open area of the forest, the path cutting through an open field. The surrounding plant life was high, but could be looked over. Ahead, the path opened up at the front of a facility, tents and tarpaulins covering up large objects. A couple of military jeeps were parked along the side of the road, and as the T.R.A.T. solider walked forward briskly, still on his guard, he noticed that it seemed like no one had been here in a long time. The jeeps fell into disrepair; a thick, unusual rust-like substance coated the metallic exterior. Looking inside one, he noticed ivy growing around the seats.

A slight breeze came through the area, rustling the surrounding ferns as he made his way up the road, toward the double metal door a couple hundred feet away from him.

Now how will I get in? There has to be some sort of control panel or something…

Arriving at the end of the road, he scanned the outer perimeter of the door, looking for some sort of open mechanism. His eye spotted a large button to the left of the door, its color faded.

Did that girl go through here?

He pushed the button, hoping that the opening mechanism would work. The sound of mechanical whirring and grinding gears confirmed his hope, and the doors opened.

It led to a large opening, the front of the facility looking very much in shambles. To his left, a massive pile of wreckage and large crates blocked any access that way. Straight ahead, a large crate blocked his path. Before he could make another step, a dull thud diverted his attention.

Oh, shit…

CRASH!!!

The air suddenly filled with a loud, massive explosion as it barreled through the massive pile of wreckage, sending rocks and metal flying in all directions. The T-Rex crashed onto the front of the facility, stopped and roared. Blood was still coming out profusely from where its eye used to be.

Yep…him again.

Once again, Dylan Morton found himself face to face with the one-eyed freak. As the dust began to clear and the creature walking closer, he looked for an escape. To the left of the crate, a ladder led to a path going around the crate. As the creature fixated its eye on him, he stood there, shotgun in hand, and glared at the creature. Just feet away from him now, the ground shook with each thud, but he held his ground. The creature lowered its head and let out a loud roar, and Dylan could see down the mouth of this creature, its massive jaw easily capable of swallowing him in one gulp. He felt the rush of hot, foul, rancid air coming from deep inside the creature.

"Back for more, huh?" he yelled to the angry monster. "Come get me, you one-eyed menace!" He quickly raised his shotgun and fired one directly inside the creature's mouth, ripping across his tongue, sending bits of muscle and blood outward. Before the T-Rex could react, Dylan bolted for the ladder, nearly crashing headlong into it. He quickly climbed onto the metal platform as the furious creature began to chase. With amazing speed, it nearly caught up to the soldier, only to be blocked by the crate. He jumped off the platform as he cleared the crate, and in his brief glance, he saw another ladder to a platform going to his left, since his immediate left was blocked by another crate.

The sound of splintering wood thundered through the front, like a dozen trees were all falling at once; the T-Rex plowed through the crate like it were toothpicks.

Shit, that thing's strong…

He scrambled up the ladder, his feet making loud clanging noises as he ran along the raised platform, taking the seemingly long way around. In his sight, he spotted two doors, not knowing where each one led, but at this point he didn't care—anything was better than this. Once he went around the crates, he leaped off the platform—

--and saw the helmeted woman again, this time with another one of equal dress, their strange weapons aimed at him.

You picked the wrong time, ladies…

CRASH!

As the massive creature broke through the crates behind Dylan, the two fired in unison, and his sharp reflexes enabled him to dive out of the way, onto his back—into the path of the T-Rex, which loomed large above him, one massive foot coming down fast. Quickly, he rolled out of the way, just missing becoming dino toe jam by a foot or two. He turned his head in the direction of the two women, saw them gone. He scrambled to his feet, and ran under the huge stomach of the T-Rex, straight for the closest door he could get to. He flung the double doors open, ran in, and slammed them shut. Outside, the creature let out another bellowing roar, but that didn't matter. He was safe…at the moment. While he stood propped against the door, catching his breath, he looked at his new indoor surrounding.

He had run into a room that seemed totally lifeless, deserted, abandoned. He was surrounded by stone walls, gray and discolored from neglect. In the center of the room was a centerpiece of sorts, the insignia of the Third Energy faded on it. As a result of time, the ceiling was gone, the metal beams bending from exposure. To his left was a door, but blocked by a couple of fallen beams, rubble and dirt. Light fixtures hung off the beams, barely being held by frayed and warped wires. The tiles of the floor were cracked, and there were parts of the floor raised, areas exposed where ivy was breaking through.

With the adrenaline wearing off, he began to walk the perimeter of the room. In a corner stood chairs and a table covered in mildew, and there was a reception desk. He ran his finger across it, and it came back black with dust. He couldn't even see through the glass window. Whatever this place was, it definitely appeared that no one has been here for a very long time, years possibly. According to the briefing everyone at T.R.A.T. received back at H.Q., it was told that the scientists had been here only briefly, a couple months. This certainly didn't look like the neglect of a couple months. His mind now curious, he noticed the door next to the reception desk, and upon entering, he found himself in a corridor, looking just as decrepit as the entrance. It was dimly lit, only illuminated by patches of sunlight that broke through the holes in the ceiling. It was silent as he made his way down the hall. It turned to the left, and he saw a door to his left. Next to it, he could just make out the words: "Medical Room."

Maybe I could find something in here…

He turned the knob and opened it, and a huge wave of rank, foul decay greeted his nostrils, the smell of death, and long decomposition. Slamming the door, he began to gag, the total stench of carrion something not what he expected. He put a hand on the door to brace himself as his stomach lurched, his body prepared to vomit. Willing himself, he held down the urge to toss up the contents of his stomach, his mouth tasting bile. Wiping the teary eyes, he pulled his dark blue muscle shirt over his mouth and nose, took a deep breath, and ran inside. Almost instantly, he noticed the cause—a half-decayed body of a doctor, evident by the stained white shirt, stained a dark, dark red, almost black, lie dead on the floor. Only part of his upper half remained, his legs gone. The skin over most of his back and head was gone now, bone remaining. Just beyond one skeletal hand were a shotgun and some shells scattered nearby. He quickly snatched up the shells and put them in his ammo pocket. On the patient bed next to him, he found a piece of paper splotched with blood, the writing faded but still legible.

Again the day has come... January 14th. This is the day when the Third Energy accident occurred and we were sent to this time. This is the 10th time this day has come. And every time I feel the same, despair...the medical supplies from the Med. Room has all been used up in the very first year. Since then we've been collecting wild plants to make medicine without knowing its effect. Nevertheless, they were used in healing the wounds of the soldiers. And all we could do was to wait for the rescue.

Why haven't they come to rescue us? I've thought about the question for the past ten years and I have come to a conclusion. The Time shift or fold is cause by the "Overdrive" of the Third Energy. But our current technology level wasn't high enough to recover the "accident". Years of technology research still would not be enough.

A time error of 10 or 20 years is insignificant to a time slip of 65 million years. But that error, that time difference could mean everything for us. We should have never laid our hands on a toy so dangerous. We should ha--

The writing ended abruptly, a line running right off the page, looking like he was attacked as he was writing it. Dylan ran out of the room to catch a breath. Meanwhile, one glaring thought kept poking at his mind.

10 years? How could they have been here 10 years? That can't be right…yet it explains why everything looks so aged…did H.Q. screw up?

He took another deep breath and walked back into the room, this time exploring the left side. When he turned the corner, he was greeted by another decomposing body, though not as decayed as the doctor. The tattered clothes identified him as a soldier. The bed next to him was stained a deep red and judging by the look of the body, he probably was attacked in his sleep, for the bite marks were still evident. It didn't look like a fight was had, appearing to be no signs of resistance. Looking around, he saw a case full of bottles, probably once used to hold medicines and solutions, but they were all empty now. Just out of the dead soldier's reach was a shiny, metallic object, looking like a key plate of some kind, and so he pocketed it. With nothing else in this room, and because the smell of fetor was getting through the shirt, he ran quickly out into the hallway, and continued on. The hall took another left, this time to a dead end—a door with an electric lock and a bare shelving unit was present. Without Regina's stun gun, he wouldn't get past this point. He'd make it a point to tell her when they met again. The only other thing he could do now was to see what was in that other part of the facility he had yet explored, which could possibly mean confronting the T-Rex again, and possibly those female figures. Turning back, he ran back through the hall until he got to the entrance once more, and with his shotgun loaded, he headed back out into open terrain, into vulnerability, and found himself wonderfully alone, the T-Rex gone. Despite the lucky break, Dylan ran straight, then to his left toward the other door.

Inside, he noted that this room looked totally different, and as he walked into a larger room, it was evident that this was some sort of hardware storage room. To his right was a shelving unit loaded with computers, and computer parts, which at this point in time, was useless to Dylan. To his left, there was a small panel of some kind. As Dylan walked closer, he noticed it was a case of some kind, a red light adorning the side of the case. There was a slot for an object. He fished out the key plate, thinking that maybe this key plate would do something, but he wasn't expecting it. He inserted it into the slot, and the case opened, revealing a small plastic card. Examining the card, it had the Third Energy logo on it, and on the back, in small print, two words: "Research Facility."

Suddenly, red lights started flashing all throughout the room, and an annoying siren began to blare loudly through the room, startling Dylan.

An alarm…?

A female voice cut through the grating siren, calm and collected.

"You have inserted an incorrect key; trespasser confirmed. This door will be locked."

Fuck!

Quickly turning, he saw a door coming down in the doorway, and he ran, possibly hoping that he could get through, but he was too slow, and the door shut, leaving him trapped inside. He banged on the door, but no luck. The female voice repeated the message.

Oh, fuck you!

He went to his wrist intercom and spoke: "Can anyone read me?"

Nothing for a few seconds.

"Someone answer me…David, Regina, over!"

Regina's voice came over first, sounding sarcastic or annoyed. "This is Regina, over."

"Regina," Dylan began, "I'm trapped. I'm at a military facility and I need your help, over."

Regina chuckled. "Aww, did you swing your precious machete around? Did you have a male moment? Just what I'd expect from a member of T.R.A.T. Well, I guess I can help you out."

Dylan was in no mood for humor. "It's not funny, Regina."

"I disagree," Regina said. "It's quite humorous. I'm on my way."

"I'll put a key in front of the door as a mark." He took the Research Facility card and slipped it under the space between the door and the ground.

"Don't let me down. Over and out."

END OF CHAPTER 1. How do you like it so far? In the next chapter, Regina goes to free Dylan, but what happens? It'll be up in a few days.