Disclaimer: Jurassic Park is not mine. Avanwe, Fasir, Mirage, and Q are not mine.
Chapter Four
Almost all eyes turned as the foursome walked into the bar. Slowly, they all turned back to their TV screens and their food as the group sat down.
Billy knew they were an odd mix. Dr. Grant, whose dusty outfit and hat had to make you wonder if he was related to Indiana Jones, sat down next to Billy at the table, ordered a beer, and pulled his hat down a little to shield his eyes from the light pouring in through the window.
Across from them were Ian Malcolm and Richard Levine, who had finally learned at least to tolerate each other. Ian had learned to put up with Richard's stubbornness, his arrogance, and overall naivety. Richard, in turn, had learned to put up with Ian, his jokes, and his pessimistic attitude towards the human race in general.
Currently, the two were silent, although in the car on the way they had been endlessly debating whether or not professional sports were boring. Ian, away from his work now, away from giving lectures and people asking questions, was more relaxed, whereas Richard seemed more tense.
Billy couldn't help thinking that now, silent like this, the four of them looked like Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin at the bar at the end of The Return of the King.
It was ridiculous, he knew. None of them resembled Hobbits much. But something was there, something that said that even though they should be joyful, - that they'd made it - they still couldn't and would never be able to forget everything that had been lost.
Ian broke the strange silence when the waitress came by. "Diet coke, shaken, not stirred." The less scientific part of his mind was beginning to think there was something unlucky about ordering it, like some little variable that tipped the scales of chaos and made everything go wrong.
He pushed the thought from his mind. What could go wrong now?
"Open your eyes," Peter said. They were outside a bar, dimly lit, with the smells of food, drink, and cigarette smoke pouring out.
"Smells friendly enough," Morgan nodded. She wasn't kidding; all of the humans could easily feel at home here.
Tandro, however, couldn't stop coughing as they walked in. Finally, it got so bad that Eric had to pick up the elf and carry him outside. "So much for staying inconspicuous," he whispered to Peter.
Still, no one seemed to notice them. And none of them noticed one mathematician watching them out of the corner of his eye.
"Peter!" called a man who appeared to be one of the waiters. "Good to see you again!"
"Jim! Long time to see, mellon nin!"
"How're y'all doin'? What can I get ya? Always a pleasure ta have ya here. Spices things up a bit, though we've got some interesting characters here today already."
"We're looking for Ian Malcolm," Rona said. "Is he here?"
"Yes, he's one of the interesting fellows I mentioned. Right over there. Can I get y'all anything else?"
"Yeah," Morgan nodded. "Prayers with a side order of luck, to go."
Ian glanced absent-mindedly from one game to another, but his gaze was drawn back to the strange new arrivals. He smiled as he remembered Dr. Grant asking if mathematicians believed in intuition.
Suddenly, just as the strangers were coming in their direction, there was a crash as something broke through the roof. Ian looked up, but couldn't believe his eyes. Monsters, like out of a nightmare, were crashing through. They had large purple wings and claws, and in their hands they had swords and bows.
"Stay still!" Peter yelled to the people at the tables. "Don't run!" Everyone froze. Ian was impressed. It seemed that whenever he or anyone else said that, all the human body seemed capable of doing was running.
Someone fired a gunshot. The monsters attacked, charging everyone. Eric and Tandro rushed back in. The small group tried to keep the monsters' attention, but they didn't seem interested. People began to run, to panic. Only Alan, Billy, Richard, and Ian were still frozen.
Finally, everyone else had run away, and the monsters, despite their opposition, noticed the group at the table. One of them fired. Morgan, who was the closest, somehow jumped in the way right before the arrow would've hit Ian, and collapsed to the ground. Peter was by her side in an instant, and soon the whole group was forming a barrier around the table.
The monsters attacked, swords drawn. "Get down!" Eric shouted, but Ian picked up his glass and threw it at the nearest monster, hitting it squarely in the head. The others followed suit, but then they were out of things to throw.
Suddenly, an arrow from overhead impaled itself in Ian's leg. Peter shot the monster, but let his guard down in the process. A sword came through the back of his shoulder. Billy threw the salt and pepper shakers from the next table at the monster, followed by the ketchup and mustard. The monster pulled out its sword and backed off. Then, as if some mission had been accomplished, they flew off.
Tandro collapsed, coughing again, into Eric's arms; even though the people were gone, the smell of the smoke still lingered. Noka fired one last arrow through the broken roof to make sure the monsters were gone. Eric helped Tandro sit down and then approached the group. "Here, let me help you with that," he told Ian, who was getting advice from the other three on how best to remove an arrow, which none of them actually seemed to know anything about. In a matter of seconds, Eric had it out and was bandaging the wound.
"Ian Malcolm?" Eric guessed.
"How did you know that?"
"You've hurt this leg before; that should make this easier," Eric said, ignoring the question. "The gleems never attack like that; something's happened, something new. We've got to get out of here, fast. Rona? What's the word on Peter and Morgan?"
"Do you want the word or the recommendation?"
"Recommendation."
"Let's get out of here."
"Where to?"
Tandro got up. "Anywhere's better. Dr. Grant, Dr. Malcolm, Dr. Levine, Billy, we're going to have to ask you to come with us, for your safety, especially you, Dr. Malcolm. For some reason, the gleems seem to have targeted you."
"Oh, yeah, I really feel like jumping up and rushing out of here," Ian commented sarcastically.
Tandro nodded. This was promising. He hadn't asked them to give a reason why he should trust them. This was a man who could trust his instincts. "Don't worry; we won't have to go far, yet. There's a church across the street; the pastor knows us. That's as far as we'll need. You up to it?"
Ian nodded. They made their way slowly, Alan helping Ian along, the others carrying Morgan and Peter. Unlike Ian, Alan was not impressed. They were expected to trust this ragtag group of fighters?
The man who answered their knock, a man maybe in his late twenties, recognized Eric immediately, and let them in. "I don't have much to offer you," he admitted, "but it's safe."
"No," Eric said slowly. "Nothing's safe anymore. Can you find us some warm water and clean cloths?"
"Of course, of course." He hurried off.
Eric looked Morgan and Peter over. Morgan's wound was in her right side; he noticed Rona hadn't removed the arrow, which meant something was wrong. Rona was currently trying to revive Peter, which meant he would probably be okay. Her biggest worry with him was his stubbornness; if she could get him to rest for a while, he'd be fine. But that wouldn't be possible.
"What's the matter with Morgan?" Eric asked.
"She's waiting for the pastor to come back so she'll have something to wrap the wound with immediately to stop it from bleeding too much," Billy explained. Rona nodded, and Eric breathed a sigh of relief.
"Eric, what's going on?" Balo asked. "The gleems have only ever wanted us."
"Wait," Richard interrupted. "What's going on?"
He was interrupted himself by a soft groan from Morgan. The teenager slowly opened her eyes. At the same time, Peter sat up with Rona's help and looked around. "Where's Pastor Brown?"
"He should be right -" Latano was cut off as the pastor came running through the door.
"I only wish I could do more," he said as he handed a bowl of water and some clean towels to Eric.
"You can," Eric said. "Pray."
"For you?"
"For the world."
The minister's face became pale. "Then it's happened?"
"What's happened?" Richard demanded.
"It might be," Eric answered. "You can go." He left, still very white.
"We need to find Athos, fast," Morgan insisted, struggling to sit up.
"Easy, le Fay," Eric said softly as he eased her back down. "You won't find him with an arrow in your side. Now you let Rona take that out and we'll do all the leader-of-the-gleems hunting we can."
Morgan turned to Rona. "How bad is it?"
"I'll only be able to tell when I can get the arrow out," the elf replied steadily with her normal patience. "Ian, Eric, make yourselves useful, hold her still. I'll have to do this very fast, and it will hurt. Balo, I could use an extra set of hands over her, two minutes ago."
"On it."
"Morgan, I need you to hold as still as possible. It'll be hard; that's why Ian and Eric are here. Ian? Eric?"
"Ready," Eric answered, taking Morgan's hand in his, placing the other firmly but gently on her arm. Ian nodded and followed suit.
"Morgan?"
"Any time."
In one quick stroke, the elf removed the arrow and took a towel from Balo and started wrapping the wound. Ian felt Morgan squeeze his hand a little, but nothing more. But now her hand went limp and she closed her eyes.
"Eric, keep her awake," Rona directed.
"There's nothing I can do, short of maybe finding some colder water and tossing it on her," Eric informed her. "We'd best wait this one out."
Rona nodded. Bandage now in place, she began to feel around the wound. Her face suddenly became grave.
"What is it?" Eric asked.
"A problem. Here. Have a look at this arrow. Might have some answers."
It took Eric a matter of seconds to find what the elf was looking for. "Poisoned."
"That explains a lot."
"Rotten timing."
"Gets worse. The arrow went straight through one of her ribs. There's nothing I can do about it. Nada."
"A problem?"
"Not life-threatening, but she'll be in a great deal of pain. You recognize the poison?"
"No, but that could mean anything."
"It means it's not anything we've been hit with before."
"That's reassuring," Eric said sarcastically.
"What is?" Morgan asked, suppressing a slight groan.
"What is going on?" Richard repeated.
"You don't want to know," Rona answered. "Morgan, don't try to move yet. We've been having a few problems. Nothing serious, but try to save your strength."
Morgan nodded. That was Rona-talk for, "If it's serious, we'll tell you ten seconds before you die."
"I am so confused," Billy sighed.
"Join the club," Alan invited.
"I think I've got it," Ian hesitated. Billy, Richard, and Alan all stared at him. He didn't care. "You people are from some other . . . place, where these monsters live. Now, for some reason, they've decided to come attack us."
"But why now?" Richard asked.
"Their leader is gone," Latano answered.
"Dead?"
"No, gone. And his second-in-command is now in control; she probably thinks he's dead. Athos wants to take over the world slowly, not just go all out and in force. Angelica, who's in charge now, just wants to attack and get it over with. But she listens to Athos, so we need to find him."
"We?" Ian asked. He was beginning to get the idea.
The group looked around nervously. Finally, Morgan spoke up. "I spoke with him a little while ago, Ian. Kelly is with him."
Ian looked shocked for a moment. "Is . . . is she all right?"
"As of when I last heard, yes. But they have no way to get back."
"Wait . . . back? Where are they? Some other planet or something?"
Peter shook his head. "No. Nothing that far from home."
"Wait, I know where this is going," Alan realized. "You have to be kidding."
"No joke," Morgan shook her head. "They're on Isla Sorna. Site B."
Well, if you've read my summary at all, you probably figured that one out, but it's still a good place to leave off a chapter. :)
Gollum: Now, eventually, you do plan to have dinosaurs in your dinosaur story, right? Hello?
Smeagol: Cut that out. They'll show up.
Gollum: Next chapter?
Smeagol: Ummmm . . .