Chapter Twelve

Lost and Found

As the sun began to peak over the horizon, Grant nudged Billy awake and gestured for the young man to rouse the others. As Billy climbed the branches over to the next tree, Grant started his descent. His feet firmly on the soil, he glanced around, noting that the island was quiet, but not eerily so. Dinosaurs were just beginning to shake off sleep and the predators were still too drowsy to do much hunting. He figured they had an hour or so before the carnivores would start searching for breakfast.

Nash was the second to climb down and the muscular survivalist stood at the base of the tree as the others made their way down. Grant gave the man credit. At first, Nash had been scared and jittery, but now after being given the chance to settle from his initial fear, the man was calm and collected.

Udesky, on the other hand, was still twitchy and jerked at every snapping twig. Grant didn't really blame the guy. Last night, during Udesky's watch, Grant stayed up with him and had a long talk. Grant discovered that Udesky was nothing more than a booking agent. The closest he'd ever been to dangerous animals was at the zoo, safely on the other side of the bars and Plexiglas.

Then came Paul and Amanda Kirby, two of the most irritating people he had ever met. Even stranded on a dinosaur-infested island, they continued to bicker about trivial things. Grant still couldn't comprehend their approval in allowing their son to go parasailing near the islands. He figured that he never would.

Finally, Billy came scurrying down, eager to get started. Grant guilty hoped that Charlie would one day be like Billy. The young student assistant was bright, enthusiastic, and livened up the dig site with his charming smiles and easy-going personality. Grant often found himself wishing that Billy were his own son. Not that he didn't love Charlie, but every man dreams of having a son follow in his footsteps.

Suddenly, Billy looked over at him and screamed: "Alan, look out!"

Grant whirled around just as a raptor came bursting through the bushes. Another jumped out from the side…followed by a third and fourth. They circled around him, sniffing the air and calling out in their high-pitched squeals. Grant turned, trying to keep his eye trained on all four of them. He could hear Billy yelling, trying to capture the dinosaurs' attentions.

The ground began to shake and Grant's eyes widened in alarm. He recognized the quiver. "T-rex," he murmured just as a giant beast came crashing through the trees. He whipped around toward the group and shouted: "Freeze! He can't see you if you don't move!"

But he was too late. They were already running, desperate to get as far away as fast as they could. All the commotion distracted the raptors and two of them leapt onto the T-rex's back, stabbing their claws into the hard flesh. Another one tore off after the fleeing people.

Grant backed slowly away from the fourth, sweat rolling down his tanned face. His heart began to beat wildly. The raptor hissed and sprung forward at the exact moment that a spear hurdled into its neck. The dinosaur screeched, collapsing just a foot away from Grant, stunned and wounded, but still very much alive. Two more spears whizzed through the air, both piercing the raptor's side. Grant took his opportunity and bolted into the thick underbrush.

He fought his way through the vines and branches, thorns slicing his hands and face. Something grabbed his shoulder and he hurled his foot back, kicking it with a harsh blow. The 'hmph' sound from behind him caused Grant to turn around. He hadn't kicked a dinosaur, but a man. He helped the man back to his feet. "You must be Ben."

Ben nodded, sucking in the air. "Y-yes…who the hell are you?"

"Alan Grant. Is Eric alive?"

"Yes."

The T-rex behind them roared and Grant shoved Ben forward. "Take me to him. Now."

The two men stumbled over the terrain as they darted around the trees. Ben led Grant to a small clearing where an old supply truck was tipped on its side. "Eric," he called out, a few feet from the truck. "Open the hatch!"

The hatch flung open and Ben quickly jumped inside, followed by Grant. Once inside, Ben slammed the hatch shut. "Compies," he explained. "They live around here. Can't be too careful."

Grant looked around the dimly lit room and settled himself onto a wooden crate. Across from him, a young boy sat down on the floor of the truck. He was dirty and his brown hair shaggy, falling over his eyes. One of his arms was wrapped in a bandage made of leaves and grass. Grant smiled thinly at him. "You must be Eric Kirby."

Eric nodded, confused. "Yeah. How'd you know? You part of the rescue team? Ben and I were beginning to think that there wouldn't be one."

"Well," Grant looked over at Ben and then back at Eric. "There isn't one. Not officially. Your parents brought me aboard."

"My parents," he asked doubtfully.

"Yes, they're here. On the island. Looking for you."

"Together?" Eric shook his head. "They don't do so well together."

"You'll be surprised what people can do when it comes to something important."

Ben, still standing, the hatch just off to the side of his head, announced: "Sorry we don't have any food to offer. I was out hunting when I saw you."

Eric looked over at Ben. "You lose the spears?"

"Yeah."

"We'll have to make more."

"Yeah."

Grant shook his head. "This is amazing. I was sure we never would've found you…not alive."

"We've had some close calls," Ben admitted, pointing to Eric's arm. "That happened last week while we were gathering water. A compy tore his flesh right off."

Eric shrugged it off and asked Grant: "Who are you?"

"Alan Grant."

"Alan Grant! No way! I've read both your books! I liked the first one better. Before you hated dinosaurs."

"Well, that was before they tried to eat me."

Everyone went silent. Grant finally asked: "Did you read Ian Malcolm's book?"

"Yeah," Eric said.

"And?"

"It was too confusing. Everything was chaos this and chaos that. It was too preachy. And he seemed kind of high on himself."

Grant smirked. "That's something we have in common."

"Now that we're all acquainted," Ben interrupted. "Do you think we should go find the others? Maybe find a way off this damn island?"

Grant stood up, situating his hat. "If there is a way."

End Chapter Twelve

Chianna: I hope it is, too. Haha. Anyway, don't worry: Ellie's role is going to get a big jump later.

SimCatz: Hey, you never posted Chp4! pouts

DougS: I know what you mean. I loved JPIII, but there were a lot of things that needed fixing. The number one problem I had with it was that Alan and Ellie weren't together. Yet, the close second were the Kirbys. They annoyed me, too, and for many reasons.

Jen: Thanks! I'm trying my best, but I'm running out of time. frowns

Phoenix Master: Thank you so much. I just hope I won't have to end it abruptly. I don't have much time left before I leave. And we're not even half way through it! I mean, geeze, I only just got Eric and Ben into the story.

HoneyBee1: Wow. I mean…wow. Thank you so much. I truly appreciate it. And I'll never get tired of saying it: Alan and Ellie belong together! And I hate Slash stories. Besides, there's no way Grant would ever turn gay, especially with Billy. I got the impression that Grant treated Billy more like a son than anything.