CHAPTER 6 – THE SPITTERS
At first we all thought they were pretty flimsy, and quite beautiful. Graceful, I guess you could call them, the way they moved and slithered through the jungle. They had nothing on the Raptors, that's for sure, and we treated them like household animals more than anything. Of all the species in the park, at first, they seemed to be most like some kind of dog; they were like puppies. It's a pity that we took the fact that they were carnivorous for granted.
Of course, nobody could have predicted that something like that would happen. After all, there were only a handful of species of lizard in the world that could do something like that. It's restricted to snakes, cobras primarily.
How were we to know something like that?
Noah Cox, 1995
Noah Cox
December 13th, 1991
Main Road, Dilophosaurus Paddock, Isla Nublar
Cox leaned against the front bumper of the Jeep Wrangler, twiddling the button strap on his radio. He watched the maintenance crew in a detached way as they bent over the large steel box which stuck up out of the ground at the side of the road. Four men dressed in blue overalls were bustled around, laying tools around all over the tarmac, leaning into the capacitor box which had been opened two minutes before.
He had paperwork to fill out; construction orders and recommendations on security features for the new Velociraptor holding pen which was being planned. They had found that they couldn't release the Raptors back into their paddock without them attacking their perimeter fence each time the maintenance crews carried out their rounds and tried to feed them. They were simply too rowdy and dangerous; if the fences failed anywhere along their stretch – and there was quite a bit, considering the size of their paddock – they would have the opportunity to escape. And they could kill several people and innumerable animals before they could be captured again. On an island that was mostly jungle, they could hide too well. It was hard enough keeping track of them in their own enclosure.
They were simply too dangerous. And so they had decided to move them to a temporary enclosure, small and compact, where they would be monitored at all times. This would ensure that there was a reduced chance of their fencing failing – as they even had their own power line – and everybody would know exactly where they were at all times.
The only thing that bothered Cox was that Hammond wanted it built right outside the visitor centre. Which pained Muldoon and Cox greatly; if they ever did escape their pen, they'd be right outside their front door.
He stretched, looking out at the brightening sky which lay in the distance, beyond the main road which extended away from them to the south. It was dawn, and he had been up all night. He wanted to get back to the safari lodge and get a few hours of sleep before he filled out the rest of his paperwork—
An almost inaudible cry floated out of the trees to his left. He peered over curiously, and saw the ferns through the fence shift to the side. A dark shape flitted across his vision, interrupting the seamless greenery.
He stood up a little straighter.
"Something wrong?" said one of the workmen, looking over his shoulder at Cox, and then at the fence.
"Just the Dilophosaurs," said Cox, "they won't bother you."
The workmen stared at him for a moment, and then turned to the ferns beyond the fence, and then shrugged, going back to work. Cox watched curiously; he hadn't really seen them close up for over a year, and they had grown a lot since then. The last time he had seen one it had been barely over four foot high. They grew fast.
He didn't know dinosaurs would grow so fast; he suspected Wu and his guys must have done something to them.
The sound came again, followed swiftly by a soft hoot, very similar to that of an owl, a hundred feet to the south. The workers paid no attention to the sounds, and chattered to each other quietly; Cox picked up a few words, something about dinner.
Part of his job was monitoring the welfare and work ethic of his subordinates; which was basically a nice way of saying that he was supposed to be the hard-ass workaholic figure that made sure none of the drones slacked.
But he got on too well with the workers around here to reprimand them. And after all, dinner tonight was pot roast—
A sly, slithering hiss vibrated in the air. Cox looked through the thick wires of the cyclone fencing, and his eyes narrowed at the two dark brown skulls which had emerged from the foliage, ten feet in. They stood motionless, occasionally cocking their heads slowly to the side inquisitively. The thin snouts worked a little, revealing long rows of small razor sharp teeth.
"Gone on now, get," called Cox.
The animal's eyes swivelled sharply in their sockets to lock onto him, and their cold stare pierced him for a moment. The Dilophosaurs had always come across as being friendly and rather...well, dopey.
But these animals conveyed no hint of remorse or general kindness.
Not that it bothered him, as they were perfectly safe behind the fence. Ten thousand volts of electricity ran through the metallic wires; all the animals in the park had long learned to stay well clear of them. In fact, last time a Dilophosaur had brushed the fence Harding had to have them all taken in to treat it for burn wounds. Their bodies were a little too fragile to take it; apparently they were some of the earliest dinosaur predators.
As he watched he saw a flash of colour, causing him to blink instinctively. He shrugged it off, and looked again, closer this time. He waited for a few moments, and then it happened again. The ridge structures which ran in a v-formation along the top of their heads were flushing bright red and orange.
"Ooh cool," he said quietly.
They paid him no attention as he left the bonnet of the car, and approached the fence.
They simply opened their mouths widely, revealing the long, snake-like tongues inside, along with their full complements of pearly white fangs. For a moment they paused, and looked quite comical; standing in the ferns the upturned structure of their jaws caused them to look as if they were laughing.
He felt his lips twitch as he suppressed a laugh.
And then, with a sudden snap, the dinosaurs flung their heads downwards in a single fluid motion. There was a high whine which ran through the air, like a bullet, and then a harsh wet smack, followed immediately by a scream of agony.
As he watched the Dilophosaurs brought their heads back up swiftly, and snapped them down once more. This time he caught a glimpse of something clear glint in the sunlight as it shot through the fence and towards the workers, which was once again followed by a smack.
Cox froze as he turned his head, bewildered, to see one of the workers writhing on the ground, clutching his face. The other men were yelling; some were running for their truck, others were huddled around the fallen man, helping him up.
Cox turned and ran towards him, shouting orders.
"Get him up and into the back of that truck, immediately. You!" he shouted to somebody climbing into the driver's seat. "Get a team out here with tranquiliser darts and rifles!"
Everybody was shouting a blind panic.
Dragging the man to his feet, Cox glanced over the fence, and saw the Dilophosaurs standing exactly as they had done before, their crests flushing bright red, and continued to snap their heads at them.
Jesus, he thought, they were spitting at him.
He and three others dragged the injured man towards the truck parked up alongside the road. They pulled him behind the other side, using the vehicle as a shield, just as a glob of spit slammed into the rear door, dripping downwards sickeningly.
"Look at me," Cox said to the injured man, who was scratching at his face, grunting.
It took some convincing to get him to hold still, and Cox caught the rising stench of dried vomit from the man's face. The others were retching in the grass beside them, as globs of spit continued to impact the other side of the truck.
"Ah, screw this," said Cox, running darting from behind the maintenance truck towards his parked Jeep, thirty feet away. "Get him inside that truck!" he shouted over his shoulder.
High whined buzzed past his head, and a wet slap of spit slashed against his shins, almost knocking him off balance. Running along, but beginning to trip, he made a kind of speeding dive at his Jeep. Not stopping, he careened into the bonnet, bounced off, and landed on the floor next to the driver's door. He scrambled to his feet, and tore the door open.
The first thing he thought of was his rifle, but it wasn't loaded and was stored in the truck; no time for that. So he looked around the interior of the cab as globs of spit slammed against the windows, obscuring his view of the outside.
There was nothing; he had come completely unprepared. He cast aside a stack of work papers which sat idly on the passenger seat, which blew up into the air, floating outside onto the road. There was a flashlight, some empty candy bar wrappers, but not much else.
Desperately, he tore the glove box open, and peered inside.
There was an emergency kit in there, a box of bullets for his rifle, and a picture of his little boy.
The hell with it, he thought, and tugged out the emergency kit. It burst open as he removed it from the compartment, the contents spilling across the floor.
Items rained down on the floor, rattling around; bandages, sutures, anaesthetic, batteries, some water. And a flare gun.
He grabbed it, and broke open the chamber.
Empty.
He felt a surge of annoyance, and then he saw the flares hanging down on a strap attached to the grip. He pulled one out, and poked it onto the chamber, his fingers slipping. Cocking the tiny gun in his hands, he aimed it over the top of the door, keeping his head below and aimed in the general direction of the attacking dinosaurs.
He squeezed the trigger, and there was a burst of light, and a harsh sizzle.
Immediately there was an effect. The Dilophosaurs yelped, and the spitting instantly stopped.
Cox stood up, and watched as they wheeled, and dove into the bushes as the flare soared through the fence, trailing a tail of smoke.
"Go, go!" he shouted to the men in the truck, ducking into his Jeep and gunning the engine.
Both vehicles' engines roared as they soared away down the road, the tires screeching on the tarmac. He quickly turned on the radio, and immediately the injured worker's shouts of pain filled the interior of the Jeep.
"Control," he said into the mouthpiece, "we have a member of maintenance crew B who has sustained injury to his head, requesting immediate transport to mainland for medical assistance."
"Roger that," said a voice. It was Anderson.
Cox accelerated, pulled up alongside the truck for a moment. He gave the driver an encouraging thumbs up, and then roared off down the road, towards the visitor centre.
"Get Muldoon down to the Dilophosaurus paddock immediately; he's going to want to hear about this."
Arnold's voice drifted over the radio in the background. "Got it. Do I even want to know what this is about?"
"You'll never believe this," Cox said grimly.
INGEN INCIDENT REPORT
SUBJECT: PERSONEL INJURY – POSSIBLE BLINDNESS IMINENT
SUBMITTED BY:
NOAH COX, PARK RANGER. ROBERT MULDOON, PARK WARDEN.
Incident occurred December 13th, 1991, at northern perimeter of external paddock fencing, in close proximity to Dilophosaurus enclosure. A routine inspection of quartz lighting capacitor was tended to by standard maintenance crew of four technicians, accompanied by Ranger Cox.
During inspection, the activity in the area attracted the attention of two adult Dilophosaur specimens which entered the vicinity. However, work continued as normal due to assertion that security perimeter was sufficient to maintain a safe working environment.
Unprovoked, the animals then attacked the maintenance crew, by spitting.
Previously unrecorded behaviour, the Dilophosaurs managed to spit a poisonous substance some twenty feet from their enclosure to the crew working on the capacitor.
One of the work crew was impacted by the substance in the left eye, and has been transported via emergency helicopter to the mainland, and is currently receiving treatment, however it is speculated that he may lose his sight in his injured eye.
Recommendation: Antivenin for poisonous substance must be installed at all maintenance sheds across the island. Dilophosaur specimens must be studied extensively in order to obtain sufficient data on the ability to project this new substance. Warnings of potential threat posed by Dilophosaurus as a species must be added to enclosures before opening the park to the public.