Chapter 8

After Zia had convinced the men that they needed her to keep Blue alive, they had rigged a system to carry the raptor, sort of like an elaborate stretcher. She didn't have a lot of faith that the four guys were going to be able to carry her far, but it turned out that they didn't need to. They had led the way through the jungle to the East, a different direction than she and Owen had come from, and not far away they had a vehicle parked with a large trailer attached to the back. She had stumbled along beside them, trying to keep pressure on Blue's wound as she was moved. After they loaded her onto the trailer, she had climbed on the back with Blue, pressing down more firmly. She really hoped wherever they were taking her there would be additional bandages, among other supplies.

She also really hoped that Claire and Lowery knew that something had happened. She had been careful not to look or acknowledge her watch, because she didn't want them to become suspicious and see it as anything special. She also really didn't have any free hands to be fiddling with it; she was using almost all of her weight to put pressure on the wound.

Zia was surprised when they pulled up beside some docks. There were three boats of varying sizes, and they headed for the middle one. It looked like a commercial fishing boat, good for being out in the deep sea. Again, they had used their makeshift stretcher to lift Blue from the trailer to the boat. On the boat, they had obviously come prepared to return with the raptor. There wasn't a cage exactly, but there was a an elevated platform that had a pile of straps criss crossing it. They used them to tie Blue down, and someone found a muzzle that they put on her as well.

"I need gauze, and someone to help me," Zia demanded, once the men seemed happy with their work.

"Why would we help you?" One of the men sneered at her.

"If you want this dinosaur to stay alive," Zia repeated herself for what felt like the millionth time, "then I need some help. Gauze and at least one of you who's not squeamish."

It took them a while to get sorted. One man had gone into a nearby building at one point, but he'd returned with a first aid kit. A human first aid kit, but it was still better than nothing. And Zia had some supplies still in her bag. She managed to convince them that it would be easier and better if they let her work now before they set out, as the choppy seas would make it harder. In the end, she'd managed to remove the bullet and sew up the wound. She relaxed marginally when she was finished–she knew Blue wasn't out of the woods yet.

When they finally pulled away from the docks, the men all left her alone with Blue, seemingly content that she couldn't do anything and the dinosaur was alive. Zia had finally taken the time to look at her watch, but while it appeared capable of many things, she couldn't figure out how to actually use any of them to help her out. She kept her fingers crossed that Lowery and Claire were tracking her and that they'd found Owen.

It was too bad they had searched her and Owen before they had left the clearing. Her radio would've come in really handy now. Unfortunately, they had removed it along with her and Owen's rifles, telling her that she wouldn't need any of it. They had even gone through her entire backpack, but in the end left it with her. Sitting on the platform next to Blue, she pulled out a granola bar, happy to finally have a chance to eat something, while also able to monitor Blue in case her condition changed.

Now that she had some time to relax, Zia started looking around the boat. The elevated platform was actually quite useful, providing her a decent view of the rest of the boat. A couple of men had gone down into the cabin area below, but the other two, including the main bald guy, who she'd figured out was named Wheatley, were in the cockpit. She realized, now that she wasn't barking orders at Bill (who had not been happy to help her), and now that the other men were no longer rushing about, if she listened closely, she could just hear what they were saying. Wheatley was holding a mic up, and appeared to be radioing back and forth with someone. Probably someone at their destination, if Zia had to guess.

"Yeah, we got the dinosaur," she heard Wheatley say, as he nodded and listened. "Mostly okay. Kilian shot her though." There was another pause. "No, no, she's still alive. We were able to follow him–he led us straight to her. But there was another with him." She saw Wheatley looking towards her, and immediately moved her gaze back to Blue, hand reaching out to caress the raptor, who was twitching in her sleep. "No, not the redhead. This one claimed to be a paleo-vet." Zia had to bite her tongue to keep from yelling at him that she wasn't claiming to be a paleo-vet, she was one. She was so sick of being underestimated by others. "We had to bring her with us–needed her to keep the raptor alive." That time, when Wheatley paused, Zia could almost hear the response, and she knew he was being yelled at. "Well it was bring her or let the dinosaur die. You said she had to be alive."

Blue made a sound almost like a groan, and Zia was distracted for a few minutes trying to take care of her and calm her down. The tranq seemed to be wearing off faster than she'd expected. She was really hoping they wouldn't have to tranq her again.

When she was finally able to listen in again, Wheatley appeared to be talking about Owen. "–I shot him with a tranq. Left him behind, so he's probably dead or dino food now. Who cares. He's no longer useful to us." There's a pause and Zia watched as Wheatley's face went stormy with anger. "You never said to bring him along. I did what was asked. If you wanted him, too, you should've said something." There was a longer pause now, and Zia really wished she could hear what the other person was saying. Finally, Wheatley barked out one last line before slamming the mic down. "I expect the money to be in my account by the time we arrive."

x x x

Owen let the subject drop on rescuing Zia, letting Claire and Lowery continue to dig through the computer to see what they could find. Instead, he searched around the rest of the building, evaluating whether the other supplies that were left behind might be useful. While he hadn't planned on being there overnight (and he knew the others hadn't either – or at least that's what they had told him), he had been smart and his bag had some food (mostly protein bars and trail mix) and a couple liters of water. But, if they were heading to another island in the morning (and he was still hoping he could convince them otherwise), they were going to need more supplies.

When he'd been on the yacht, he had given it a cursory search. He uncovered supplies like linens and towels, lifejackets and a first aid kit, but he hadn't found any food. Luckily, in the bunker he did find a storage closet that appeared to have been kept stocked in case of an emergency. In it, he found bottles of water, some non-perishable food, blankets, more first aid kits, some flares, batteries, and radios. All things that could end up being useful. Especially the flares, considering how the last incident went down.

Wandering back out to the main area with some of the food and water, he talked the other two into leaving the computer alone for a bit to actually sit and eat something.

"If we're staying here tonight," Lowery looked around the building nervously, the idea only now sinking in, "are we staying in here or should we be out on the Jurasship?"

"There are actual beds on Jurasship, I vote for sleeping on it," Claire put in her two cents.

Owen just shook his head in disagreement. "The boat's too accessible. There's nothing to stop any of the dinosaurs from making it down onto the docks. Also, I saw evidence that dinosaurs have been on the boat. Small ones–probably compys. We're much safer in here, even if less comfortable." He reached out and patted the cement wall. "This will hold up much better against any dinosaur, and we don't want to tempt any of them to try to destroy the boat. Besides," he reminded them, "we don't know what carnivore has claimed this part of the island as their territory."

Owen watched as the other two exchanged glances. He knew his last line would be enough to convince Lowery, and that Claire, while stubborn, would cave if it was two against one. He was right, when a moment later they both looked at him and nodded their agreement.

After eating, Claire and Lowery had gone back to the computer. Owen had taken a moment to observe what they were doing before deciding he really didn't care. It was getting dark, so he couldn't go back out on the boat, and instead he had busied himself with organizing the supplies he wanted to bring onto the yacht. They would carry them out in the morning. He had pulled out all the blankets he could find. He knew that his back was going to hate him for sleeping on concrete, but he stood by his reasoning. He folded a couple of the blankets in half, hoping to make a bit of a cushion before stretching out, using his backpack as a pillow. He didn't want to say anything, but while his body no longer felt like it was under the influence of the tranq, he still didn't feel 100%. His chest ached, and when he'd been alone on the boat he'd taken a moment to check on the damage. He'd found a large angry bruise the size of a softball. Even just brushing against it lightly with his fingertips had hurt.

If there was one good thing about his time in the Navy, it was that it had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere and under almost any circumstance. That was definitely coming in handy now. It didn't take long before he was fast asleep.

He woke with a start and a gasp not long later, almost sitting up from the pain that radiated from his chest. The room was mostly dark now, although it appeared Claire and Lowery had left one of the computer monitors on to act as a bit of a nightlight. His gaze darted around, trying to focus in the dark.

"Sorry," he heard Claire murmur as she slowly came into focus next to him. He could barely make out her facial features, but the little he could see looked embarrassed. He wished there was more light, he would bet that there was a red flush on her cheeks, and it was a sight he'd always found endearing, even though he knew she hated it.

"What happened?" Owen asked, his voice rough from sleep. He lowered back down, raising a hand to his chest, pain still emanating from his bruise. Behind Claire, he could see Lowery curled on his side, snoring softly.

"I guess I shifted in my sleep," Claire said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Only then did Owen realize that Claire was stretched out on a blanket next to his. She was lying on her side, arm bent, propping up her head. She reached out her other hand, and rested it lightly on his chest. It should've felt nice. Normally, it would've felt wonderful. But as she moved her hand, probably mimicking what she'd done, he couldn't help the wince and gasp he made.

"What did I do?" Claire pulled back her hand. "What's wrong?"

"Not your fault," Owen shrugged. "Just a little bruised."

"Bruised? From what?" Claire asked. "Wait… from the dart, right? Are you okay? Let me see..." She was reaching for his shirt before he could stop her, although how she thought she was going to see in the low light, Owen had no idea.

"Stop," he grabbed her wrist lightly to stop her, before letting go. "It's okay, really. Just a little tender."

Claire allowed her hand fall back down to his chest, careful to avoid that area. "I'm really glad you're okay, you know," she said softly, laying back down herself, but leaving her hand resting on him.

Owen reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers and grasping it lightly. "Me, too." He paused, then added. "I mean, I really wish we weren't here, but…"

"I'm sorry," Claire repeated herself. She'd been apologizing all evening and Owen knew she wasn't about to stop. He just really hoped things weren't about to get worse. Claire's guilt after the first incident knew no bounds. He couldn't imagine how she'd deal if Zia was injured...or worse. Not really sure how to reassure her, he ended up just lightly squeezing her hand again, murmuring a soft, "I'll be fine."

x x x

The next morning they were all up early. No one had slept all that well (concrete not being the softest bed to sleep on) and were all feeling a bit cranky. But, they managed to push most of their crankiness aside, motivate by their desire to get off the island.

Owen took the lead, which he knew was further irritating Claire, but boats were his thing, not hers. It took a few trips, but they got all the supplies onto the Jurasship. When he had been searching around the bunker the previous evening, he'd been hoping he might come across the keys for the yacht, but no such luck. So, once everything was on board, he found himself lying on his back in the cockpit, twisting some wires together. It took a while to get it going, as it was a big enough vessel that it required a few different systems to be started, not just a single turn of a key. But, soon enough, he was back on his feet, wiping more grease off his hands as headed over to the side. He jumped back onto the dock and untied the boat at its handful of anchor points, before easily leaping back aboard.

"Everyone ready?" Owen asked, as he passed Claire and Lowery who had spent the last bit jumping out of his way every time he walked by, neither seemingly sure with where they should stand or sit. They didn't respond right away and Owen took his place behind the wheel. Ignoring them, he throttled up the engine and they started to move away from the dock. "Well, either way, we're on our way. I charted out our route, but, like I said yesterday, it's going to take a few hours. You might as well get comfortable."

He'd tried again that morning to convince them to call the plane back. When it hadn't initially worked, he argued that he could go after Zia while they got the plane. Again, that had failed. Claire flatly dismissed any counter-solution he raised with, "She's my friend. I'm the reason she came here. I'm not going home without her."

Lowery was a bit more circumspect about it, and at one point, Owen thought he had him on the verge of caving. But, instead Lowery had started arguing that Owen would need him. "They got into the computer system but apparently couldn't figure out the tracking without us. There's a good chance I'll be useful." And, really, Owen didn't have a good argument against that. He wasn't known for his technical skills and they really had no idea what they were going to find on Sorna. It would be just his luck to leave Lowery behind only to get stuck in a situation where his knowledge would've made the difference.

They had been puttering along, following the same route that Zia and Blue had, sticking close to the shore line of Nublar as they headed south, for about half an hour when Lowery, giving a large yawn, decided he'd had enough of the three of them sitting in silence. "I'm going to go take a nap. Someone wake me when we get closer." Claire and Owen had just nodded silently and watched as he wandered away.

A few more minutes passed in silence before Owen turned to Claire, "You should probably go take a nap, too. Who knows what's going to happen once we're on Sorna. Might as well get sleep while you can."

"I'm fine," Claire shook her head, not meeting his gaze.

"Are you sure?" Owen knew she hadn't slept well. He'd woken on and off all night long, and, while they hadn't slept as close together as they would have in the past, he'd still been been cognizant of her restlessness and she had tossed and turned all night. He had tried reaching out for her, resting his hand on her hip, to see if he could help her settle. She had, but it only lasted a few minutes, before she shifted positions again, his hand sliding to the floor.

They continued on in silence, as Owen relaxed in the captain's chair, and Claire sat behind him. When Owen would glance back, she seemed to have pulled out papers and was making notes about something, looking deep in thought. The next hour and half were uneventful, Owen focused on making sure they continued to stay on course, now that there were no visible landmarks to use as guides.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Claire came to stand beside him, gaze focused ahead of them. Owen risked a quick glance at her, and spotting the contemplative expression on her face, decided to just stay quiet. He'd seen her in similar moods before, and found that prodding her to speak never got them to the point any faster.

A while later she let out a heavy sigh, before saying, "You scared me. I thought you were dead."

"Well, that's what happens on these islands," Owen shrugged in return.

"Owen…" Claire drew out his name, filling the word full of emotion, of her frustration, anger, sadness and guilt.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Owen sighed in return. "You know what's on these islands. And yet, your choice is to run straight at it."

"I didn't ask you to come," Claire reminded him.

"Right," Owen said bitterly. "If you had your way, I would have never known. Instead… Instead, someday, I'd get a call. Probably from Karen or one of the boys, asking when I last talked to you. Or maybe it's from someone at the DPG, wondering where their boss is. And I know you, Claire. I know that you don't just disappear. Immediately, I'd know that something had happened. But I wouldn't know what. I'd be trying Zia and Lowery, and driving carefully the whole stretch between our places, worried that you'd gone off the road or something. That maybe you'd been the smart one, the one who caved first and had been on your way to see me when something happened. And I'd be beating myself up the whole drive–Why didn't I just text you? Or call you? Or go see you?–And then I'd get to your place and realize that you weren't there and that I still couldn't get a hold of Zia or Lowery either. It wouldn't cross my mind at first, that you came back here. And even when it does, I'd dismiss it–Claire's too smart to go back to the island. And she wouldn't go without telling me.–At least, that's what I'd tell myself. Because dammit, Claire," Owen slammed his hand against the steering wheel, before clenching it tightly and taking a deep breath. "I thought we…" He trailed off, falling silent for a few moments, before finishing with, "I thought we were more than this."

Owen kept his gaze forward, unable to look at her, fearing what he might see on her face. Instead, he focused on loosening his grip on the steering wheel, before tightening it again, repeating the pattern as he worked to slow his breathing.

When a few minutes passed and Claire still hadn't said anything, he risked another look over at her. She was holding tightly to the safety rail in front of her, her knuckles white, and still staring resolutely ahead. He huffed, now more annoyed than anything, and returned his focus to steering, carefully following his planned route.

"You're right," Claire finally spoke up, startling Owen from his own thoughts. "I didn't think it through from your perspective. But you're also wrong," she was looking at him now, as Owen glanced over at her. "I wasn't going to tell you not because I didn't want you to stop me, but because I didn't want you to come."

"Oh, believe me," Owen said caustically, "It's more than clear that you don't want me here."

"No, that's not–" Claire's voice cut off, as Lowery emerged, interrupting them.

"How close are we now?" Lowery asked, stepping into the cockpit. He paused, looking between the two, feeling the obvious tension in the air. "Oh, never mind. I'll just…"

"We've got about an hour left," Owen replied, as Lowery turned to leave. "Don't go, we need to figure out our approach."

Claire let out a heavy sigh, looking frustrated at the turn of events, before letting the topic drop. "What do you mean? Aren't we just going to head for the docks?"

Thanks for reading. Whether you enjoyed it, hated it, or just felt in between, I'd love to hear from you.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed to date. Glad Jurasship was well received (I actually came across a yacht called Deckadance, which I thought was pretty clever and almost used that instead).

Next chapter - Isla Sorna!