Into the Lost World
The party mingled outside the Chinook and looked about, hoping to spot a dinosaur. The helicopter was placed exactly where it was intended, on the edge of a thick forest; protection from large predators it was reasoned. In the opposite direction was an open grassless area with a few sparse trees leading to a winding creek approximately two hundred yards away. The first order of business was to string out layers of barbed wire between the trees to deter any smaller predators that could slip through the woods. As well as set up a higher chain-link fence topped with barbed wire to cordon off the helicopter and the surrounding area from the water, a suspected watering hole. A single gate in the fence seven feet high was the only way in or out.
"It's so hot," Jerry exclaimed, wiping his forehead, worn out from making camp.
"It's not the heat, it's the humidity," Doug explained, more composed. "Millions of years ago Montana was much further south. This is the middle of a prehistoric summer."
"Oh, this isn't so bad," sounded in Jiggs, an elder MP Sergeant. "I was fighting Rommel in North Africa during the war; over 100 degrees daily, your clothes would stick like a second skin." He lit his pipe and looked thoughtfully in the direction of the water.
"I wore the same wool suit day in and day out for the better part of a year," Doug added, smiling fondly. "Jungles, deserts, snow-covered mountains…"
Satisfied with the base camp, General Kirk strolled up to the gaggle, and slapped his hands together twice. "All right men! Straighten your backs, and put on your packs."
The group fetched their packs and rifles and assembled into a single-file formation. Tony and Doug led the procession into the woods, being more familiar with a prehistoric environment. General Kirk followed them immediately, with Jim shadowing him, followed by Jerry and nine other first-timers. Jiggs brought up the rear, making sure no one wandered off.
All eyes were peeled, giant dragonflies a foot long buzzed through the thick canopy overhead. Tony was distracted by these monarchs of the air when he heard a crunch under his foot.
"Ah, boy…" he let out a disdained utterance as he looked under his boot; he had wandered into a small nest of eggs, partially covered by dirt, and smashed two. The column came to a halt as Tony took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the small remains off his boot. Two of the men took pictures of the scene, and Jim squatted down for a closer look.
"They're bipedal," he said, examining the remains. "Might be a small carnivore or…" Jim noticed everyone had suddenly fallen silent and looked over his shoulder to see why. A five foot tall bipedal dinosaur had crept right up on them, flaring its nostrils and baring its sharp, curved teeth; no doubt the upset parent. It snarled and was on Tony in half a second. Tony defensively rolled onto his stomach as he hit the ground and pulled in his legs while the beast clawed at his backpack in a mad fury. Doug positioned his gun to fire, but the twisting of the two denied a clear shot. Jim rushed into the fray with Bowie knife in hand, and leapt onto the back of the attacker, knocking it to the ground, and promptly stabbed it deep in the side. The creature collapsed lifelessly in defeat.
"Thanks, I owe you one," said Tony, collecting himself.
"Anytime," Jim answered.
"Are you all right?" Doug asked, concerned.
"I think so," Tony said. His pants were ripped up and he had some cuts on his legs. Doug retrieved a roll of gauze from his pack and attended to the wounds.
"You're a lucky man," said General Kirk, looking at the stilled carnivore and then again at Tony.
Tony looked up at him skeptically, "Do dinosaurs jump on lucky men?"
In the meantime, the others' attention turned to the prehistoric casualty. It was about nine feet long, with a reddish-brown hide, long snout, a hooked talon on its foot, and three fingers on each hand.
"Dein… Deinonychus," Jerry shared, comparing it to an example in a reference book.
"A fair specimen," General Kirk observed, joining them. "Did anyone notice if it was carrying its tail or dragging it?"
No one could honestly remember one way or the other, and with the scent of blood in the air, the group gladly returned to basecamp early so Tony could get off his feet and the new specimen could be put on ice.