Chapter Twenty
KELLY FRANTICALLY SWAM to the surface. He was shaking from fury, and he had dropped the tranquilizer gun in the water. As he caught his breath, he tried to look around him – Mia was speeding off into the ocean. He was sure he had got her with the dart. She must have hit the throttle when she slumped over. Okay, that's not so bad.
He would just get to the East Dock, commandeer one of those Ranger boats, and drive out to wherever she ended up. He would have to hurry. He looked at the speeding boat and then at the compass on his watch, committing her heading to memory.
He swam as fast as he could, and when his feet could reach the ground, started to run. Once he was out of the water, he sprinted down the beach toward the docks.
The big concrete structure had several tie-down points for different sized ships and boats, and along the far side were three of the Ranger boats. There was a small guard shack that bordered the dock with a small parking lot – where a big, green and yellow six-wheeled bus sat.
His feet hit the pavement and he ran across the width of the dock, jumping into one of the Ranger boats in one motion. He lowered the motor and turned the engine. Perfect! The fuel gauge read half-full. He hit the throttle and sped out into the ocean.
He checked the compass heading on his watch, adjusting course until he could see Mia's boat in the distance. This had not shaken out the way he wanted it to, but it wasn't all bad. He would get his money after all, and he would not have to worry about InGen coming to arrest him for whatever charges they could throw at him. They might even try to blame the whole mess on him. It would be much better if Nedry was the fall guy, even after death.
Kelly heard a hissing sound. He knew that sound all too well, but for a second, he was profoundly confused by it. Someone's shooting at me? Tiny splashes of seawater churned up in front of his boat as the hissing bullets became snaps and cracks – they were flying so close to his ear he could hear them breaking the sound barrier.
Mia could feel her senses coming back. Her clouded mind clearing, the wound in her hip sending bolts of pain again. She took a breath and readjusted Kelly's rifle against the side of the boat, taking aim through the little red-dot scope that was mounted to it. She fired again, sending a handful of bullets at Kelly's boat. She hadn't figured he would come after her. I should've known better.
She wasn't trying to shoot him, per se, but trying to drive him off. If she happened to hit him, oh well…
"Shit!" Kelly ducked for cover inside the small vehicle, yanking the steering wheel to change course. How is she not dead? Maybe she lied to him about the tranquilizer being fatal. That bitch!
He stood again, trying to get a clear view of her. More bullets riddled the water near him. She was trying to drive him away. Not a chance. Just keep wasting your bullets.
The next volley of gunfire hit the boat. The metal clanged as bullets ripped through, sending smoke and sparks into the water. After the gunfire stopped, Kelly quickly looked over the side – gasoline was spilling into the ocean. He screamed in anger. She won.
Mia saw the final round hit the boat, a slight trickle of smoke coming from the hull. Kelly was running around, probably looking at the damage. His boat stopped abruptly. He must have given up the chase.
She sighed heavily, tossing the rifle onto the passenger seat. She looked at the wound on her hip – blood had soaked through the gauze and bandages. She knelt and rummaged through Kelly's gear, finding his first aid supplies. She opened the waterproof pack and reapplied a clean dressing to her injury.
Kelly drove the sputtering boat back to the East Dock. He was going to have to swap it for a different vehicle. There was no way he was going to be able to catch up to Mia now. His only hope was that he could use some of his training to disappear before the authorities tracked him down.
He didn't bother tying the boat up but hopped onto the dock and looked around. He did not have any of his gear on him, and the island was deserted. Might as well check that guard shack. It was going to be a long ride to Costa Rica, and he was slightly worried about sun poisoning, since the Ranger boats didn't provide any shelter. Maybe there would be some water, food, or a hat or something in there.
He cautiously approached the small building, looking in the windows before opening the door. An old metal desk sat against one wall, with a computer and keyboard sitting atop it. Next to it was a filing cabinet with a CCTV monitor on top. There was an assortment of lockers near the far wall. If any spare clothes were going to be here, that was where they would be.
He opened the small lockers and checked each one – some of them had photographs of park employees and their families, some had pairs of socks and one even had a portable lunch cooler in it. He unzipped the cooler, but it was empty.
One of the lockers had a change of clothes. He did not mind being wet – his clothes would dry in the tropical sun quickly enough. He finally found what he was looking for – a khaki boonie hat. He put it on, adjusting it until it fit well enough.
Then he heard the hooting. His stomach dropped. He recognized that sound. It was the spitter dinosaurs. He turned to look out the windows.
An adult Dilophosaurus stood outside the guard shack – its seven-foot-tall, fifteen-foot-long body obscuring the window nearly completely. In the only doorway was a juvenile, which was hooting and cooing as it smelled the air and looked around the shack. Its small beady eyes blinked as it explored the building, and as it sniffed, its gaze fell on Kelly.
The dinosaur went still, watching intently. The adult outside walked around the building, making the same curious noises.
"Shoo." Kelly squeaked out. "Get outta here." The dinosaur looked up at him and made a small noise. "Go on. Get."
He looked up to see the adult making its way back to the doorway. It stuck its slender neck through, tilting its head as it smelled Kelly.
Then it lowered its head and nudged the juvenile. The smaller dinosaur took a step forward and looked back at the adult. With a hoot, the adult nudged it again.
The little dinosaur took yet another step forward before raising its body to get a better look at Kelly. "No. Get out. Get!"
The Dilophosaurus raised its frill, making a loud, coarse noise as it spat its venom at him. In an instant, Kelly was blinded by white searing pain in his eyes. Instinctively, he reached up, but something kept his arms from reaching his face.
The dinosaur was already pouncing on him, its clawed hands keeping his arms at bay. He felt a sharp pain as the dinosaur bit his neck, and he heard his own scream cut off abruptly as his windpipe was ripped away. He couldn't breathe. He felt lightheaded. He felt like he was drowning.
Before the world went black, Dawson Kelly's last thought was that he was drowning on his own blood.
Mia rummaged through the small cabin on the Ranger boat. She found a pair of sunglasses and one of the Park Ranger's hats. She fitted it to herself and made her way back to the driver's seat.
She adjusted her heading and turned on the boat's navigational computer, punching in the coordinates for Isla Sorna. She guessed it would take three, maybe four hours to get there. There was a massive staff facility there – breeding laboratories and research outposts. A small village housed the workers that elected to live on the island, and within that village was a small hospital. There were doctors and medical professionals on staff, and once she got there, her wounds would be mended in short order.
She had taken the Barbasol can out of Mathews' equipment. It was the only piece of gear that did not fit with everything else - a brightly colored shaving cream can amidst military style rations and field dressings - so she figured it must be what the stolen embryos were in. These embryos were really just DNA for the different dinosaurs contained in tiny vials. Usually, they were in cryogenic storage at the park, so this contraption must have been able to cool them.
She fiddled with the container, pressing the button on top – but that just released shaving cream everywhere. She wiped it off on the seat. Maybe it opens. She tried to pull the dispenser off and fidgeted some more with it before she discovered the bottom of the can could turn. Aha!
She unscrewed the bottom, and a small metal mechanism came out with it. There were CO2 canisters attached, and it held a small handful of the DNA vials.
She thought about InGen, and how irresponsible they had been with the dinosaurs. She thought of Dr. Harding, and Dr. Wu, and John Hammond – and how each of them were so confident about something they did not understand. She thought about Kelly, and whatever company caught wind of InGen and hired him. These people were not ready for responsibility. They did not have the discipline for creation. It was evident to her, now more than ever, that all these people and companies had no idea what they were doing. They were pretending to be in control of nature – of instinct – of something far beyond their reaches. It was all a façade. An arms race to see who could play God the fastest.
She dropped the vials on the ground and crushed them under her feet. The liquid inside – worth one-and-a-half million dollars to Nedry and five-hundred-thousand dollars to Kelly – decades of scientific research and discovery – the DNA strands of re-created and modified dinosaurs, which had been extinct for sixty-five million years – that liquid soaked into the carpeted floor of the boat, dissolving and evaporating in the tropical heat.
Maybe I'll go back to school, she thought, Finish my master's degree. Work in animal conservation.
She let out a small laugh and tossed the empty, useless canister into the ocean.
I'm done with dinosaurs.
