Jurassic Park: Execution
Summary: They are too dangerous. They have killed before, and the government wants them destroyed before they kill again.
Disclaimer: I do not own Jurassic Park or its characters. I also don't own the "Oscar Meyer Weiner Song," which is briefly mentioned in the prologue. Pretty much the only thing I own about this is the brain that came up with this story, the idea for the concept, the original characters, and the body that typed it all. Please don't sue; you won't get much.
Author's notes: This is my newest story. Unlike JP: Strain X, it is incomplete, but I intend to keep working on it. Sorry for my lack of updates to Strain X, by the way. Each time I post a new chapter of it on here, I become more dissatisfied with how it ultimately turned out. I'm planning a major re-write of that story sometime soon, either before or after I finish this one (and some other unfinished ones that I haven't posted here, which both follow Strain X). Anyway, I think this story has much better writing than my other one, so I'm more comfortable posting it.
And, now, our feature presentation:
Jurassic Park: Execution
Prologue: Independence Day
First of all, let me assert my firm belief that he only thing we have to fear is fear itself - nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.–Franklin Roosevelt
The rays of the late afternoon sun drifted onto the Riker's fenced-in backyard, the setting of the 2005 edition of their annual Fourth of July party. A slight breeze softened the harshness of the muggy, hot, Nashville air, cooling the guests as it danced around their bodies. On the redwood-stained deck, Jeff Riker prepared hot dogs, hamburgers, and other tasty treats at his red propane grill. Nearby, as he prepared the meal, his teenaged daughter, Jolene, served cold drinks at a table, the icy beverages shielded from the sunlight by a large umbrella the color of sap green oil paint.
Connected to the deck and bordering the right side of the mottled gray chain-link fence was a swimming pool–a large, oval-shaped, aboveground model with detailing on the edges in multiple blue shades. Inside the crystal-clear water, several guests, both young and old, jumped, whooped, and hollered with joy as they played a game of "Keep Away," using a multicolored beach ball as the coveted item to be kept away from the joyous elderly man in the middle.
Inside the house, Dawn Riker stood before a mirror in the bedroom, harshly criticizing her appearance. The twenty-three-year-old dancer meticulously examined the image in the glass, searching for flaws. Not that there were very many. The tall blonde's face had no wrinkles, and her light caramel-toned skin had no prominent scars visible outside of her blue and white checked bikini. Her abdomen protruded slightly from its four months pregnant state. As she noticed the reflection of her mid-section, she frowned disapprovingly and rubbed her right hand against the exposed flesh of her belly. "God, why did I buy a bikini?" she muttered aloud, then rested her hands on her hips and went back to scrutinizing her body.
Once satisfied that her looks were at least somewhat suitable, she turned away from the mirror and exited the bedroom. As she walked down the dark hallway toward the back porch, her flimsy cerulean and white flip-flops clicked against the tile floor below.
The main hallway of the house had earned the nickname "The Trophy Case" long before Dawn had become the fourth Mrs. Jeffery Riker. Along each wall, a glassed-in set of cherry wood shelves extended from the ceiling to the floor, both containing the various plaques, trophies, statuettes, and other souvenirs Jeff had accumulated during his lucrative career. With their shiny gleams, neither of the cases appeared to have a single speck of dust on their surfaces.
Jeff Riker was a highly-successful songwriter and country musician, and all of his awards had been well-earned. His deep, husky voice had garnered countless fans, as had being deemed early in his career to be "the man who could make the 'Oscar Meyer Weiner Song' sound sexy" by a legendary performer. That trait, as well as the distinctly southern twang in his speaking voice, his towering height, his well-toned body, and his ability to wear cowboy clothes without it appearing to be part of an act, had also earned him several girlfriends and wives to go along with the loyal afficionados. However, even with the willing women throwing themselves at him on almost a daily basis, he still always remained faithful to any lady he was enamored with at the moment.
He and Dawn had met two years after his third wife's brutal assassination outside of one of his concerts. He had still been grieving over Joanna's shooting, but one of the members of his band, a man called Redneck Red, had insisted that the widower meet with a long-time friend of his sister's, a ballerina from New York City. For Jeff and Dawn, a relationship that appeared to have spurred from "love at first sight" erupted, and the two became man and wife on the one-year anniversary of their first meeting. Since he was forty-seven at the time, and she had been barely twenty-one, their relationship had its fair share of detractors. She was frequently referred to by jealous fans as a trophy wife or, most often, as a "living blow-up doll," but the two ignored the bitter criticisms and lived in relative bliss. They purchased a two-story house and several acres of property in the small community of Williamsport, an area in Maury County, Tennessee, south of Nashville's Davidson County, where they had enjoyed relative anonymity and a quiet existence since the day they returned from their honeymoon.
As she approached her destination, the sun's rays shone through the sliding glass door, hurting her eyes and temporarily blinding her. She squinted as she reached the door, and she pushed on its handle to open it. Once it was opened, she stepped onto the deck and closed the door behind her. She raised her right hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight as she scanned the area for her husband. She located him, and she approached him, somewhat hesitantly.
He turned to her and kissed her lovingly on her left cheek. "Hey, beautiful," he said, his dark voice possessing a jovial tone. "Glad to see you could make it."
"I couldn't decide what to wear," she grumbled. "I'm so fat."
He chuckled. "You're pregnant."
"Don't remind me."
He turned back to the grill and, using a spatula, flipped a burger onto its pinker side, exposing the darker, browner underside, and he repeated this until all ten of the patties had been repositioned. Then, his focus returned to her. "Honey, you're beautiful. I know plenty of men who would abandon their wives in a heartbeat for a woman like you, whether you were pregnant or not."
This answer did not satisfy her. However, before she could respond, one of the guests in the pool, a female, let out a blood-curdling scream. Soon, several more fearful shouts erupted, and the two hosts turned looked toward the pool.
Before they could react, a huge, brown, bird-shaped animal swooped from the sky and pulled a little girl with waterlogged red hair and a pink frilled bathing suit from the pool. She kicked, squealed, and cried as the frightening creature carried her by the shoulders, the sharp claws on its feet cutting into her skin like knives. However, the beast lost its grip and accidentally dropped the child into a wild blackberry bush outside the fence.
"Tiffany!" the girl's mother shouted as she struggled to leave the pool to rescue her daughter. But she was too late and could only watch as the pteranodon located her daughter and descended for its prey once again. This time, it was successful, and it carried the girl out of sight.
Unfortunately, the horror was not over. Once the other was gone, two more pteranodons appeared overhead. The reptilian pair circled the yard for a moment, then one headed toward the pool while the other headed toward the porch.
The airborne reptile went for Jolene, but she thought quickly and began throwing unopened drink cans toward the animal. The pteranodon squealed and cawed in anger as the cans hit against its torso and massive wings. Realizing that its target was not going to stop fighting, the pteranodon set its sights on her stepmother. Protectively, Jeff stepped between Dawn and the ptera as it moved toward his expectant wife. Meanwhile, Jolene closed and disconnected the umbrella from the table and pulled it from the hole that held it. Gripping the shiny, chrome pole of the umbrella's end like a batting baseball player, the teenage girl swung the object with as much force as she could muster and aimed for the middle of the pteranodon's back. The folded fabric of the canopy and the metal pole inside collided against the animal with a loud thump, and the ptera released a terrifying, screechy wail of pain. Then, it turned away from Mr. and Mrs. Riker, its attention on defending itself from Jolene's attack.
All of Jolene's fear had been replaced by adrenaline and anger. She glared menacingly as the pteranodon folded its wings and waddled on the lower tips of them, advancing toward her. Cautiously, she stepped backwards, brandishing the umbrella in front of her like a sword. Suddenly, the creature jumped toward her, and, immediately, she pressed a button on the pole with her right hand. The green umbrella swiftly unfolded, and the ptera jumped back in fear and surprise.
However, while concentrating on defending herself and her family from one pteranodon, she barely notice another approaching her from behind until it rammed its beak deep into the right side of her back. She screamed in pain and fell, losing consciousness when her head hit the wood on the deck . . .