DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – Thanks to readers and reviewers! Here's another installment…

Despite the early rain, the day had started to look very bright. Rachel whistled to herself as she hung out the washing. These were the kind of times she enjoyed – with the children packed off to school, and already ahead on household chores, Rachel could relax in the late morning sun. She clipped the last t-shirt to the line and lingered, taking in the landscape. It looked beautiful – sharp greens, blues, purples. There was no substitute for it.

Rachel was glad she had decided to stay in Brecombe. Like all her friends, she had made plans to escape as soon as possible. Many of them moved to nearby Grassington; the more adventurous ones went further afield. Rather than following them though, Rachel had married the local vicar, who was ten years her senior. It had been quite the news item in sleepy Brecombe. Rachel's own parents were dubious, but all their doubts were banished when Lucy was born just ten months later. Two years after Lucy, Joshua came along. She smiled to herself, still wondering at how she had settled into village life, having spent her whole childhood dreaming of ways to escape it.

Rachel shook her head. "Silly girl." She chuckled to herself.

She gathered up her basket and the leftover clothes pegs, still whistling an unidentifiable tune. Robert swore that she was tone deaf – it didn't help that he could sing beautifully. Rachel trotted down the steep path to her back door, appreciating the sweet smell of honeysuckle. Her hand was on the door catch when a reflection in the glass caught her eye. A dark shape was standing at the back of the garden.

"Robert?"

A click-click-click made her heart drop to her shoes. Rachel focused on the reflection, too afraid to turn around. She held her breath. It was as though all her limbs were made out of stone. She could make out the distinct shape of a huge lizard, standing on two legs, with its head cocked to one side. Rachel inched toward the door.

There was too little space between them now. In one fluid movement, Rachel flung open the door, hurled her washing basket backwards at the creature and threw herself inside. It leapt forward, slashing her arm with one vicious swipe of its claws. Rachel ignored the blood. She locked the door, and ran through the kitchen to get the phone.

There was no answer at the chapel. Robert was probably visiting a parishioner. Rachel stabbed in another number. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Sergeant Franklin was her second cousin, beside which he was obligated to help. He answered on the first ring.

"Hello, Brecombe police station."

"It's Rachel. Something's trying to get into my house." She said. A loud crash made her jump. "It's breaking down the back door."

"Rachel, what does it look like?"

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, the young woman visualized the creature. "It's huge – like a giant lizard."

There was a second's deathly silence. "Rachel, get out of there. Get out now. Run to your car and drive as fast as you can. Get out."

They had barely been able to keep up with Franklin as he rushed for the car. Luckily, one of the constables had lifted his keys. With a sheepish shrug, the young man took charge. The team jumped in their SUV and followed the police car as it raced down the street with its siren blaring. Connor's tiredness evaporated. There was no time to think of it now.

"He's going to scare the bloody thing away." Cutter said.

"Isn't that good? I mean, she's trapped, isn't she?"

The Professor sighed. "Yes – but if it's scared off, it'll probably attack somewhere else."

"And we won't know where that is till it's too late."

Stephen ran a mental checklist of the sedatives they kept in the back of the car. He knew they could bring pretty much anything down, but it usually took a bit of guesswork. This time, they didn't have the luxury. If this young woman – Rachel, he reminded himself – was in trouble, they would simply load up as much ammunition, sedative or otherwise, as they could. One person had already died; he hope there would be no more.

The vicar's house was on the other side of the village, tucked away from what passed for the bustling high street. It was a small, quaint stone building. Cutter supposed it came with the job. He tightened his grip on the long rifle. In deference to their original plans to return all creatures to their own time, both he and Abby were carrying weapons loaded with sedatives. Stephen was carrying a conventional gun. Connor, much to everybody's relief after the incident in the shopping centre, wasn't carrying a gun at all.

It was suspiciously quiet. Cutter edged forward. The team followed him – Stephen to his left, Abby to his right, and Connor behind them. Sergeant Franklin had been persuaded that it was safer for him to remain in the car with the young constables.

"Professor…"

Cutter followed Abby's line of sight. It ended at a large print in the mud.

"Looks like one of ours." he said, with a grim smile.

"Professor?" Connor's low, trembling voice stopped them all dead in their tracks.

He had spotted a dark shape amongst the trees in the distance. From their position, it was impossible to really make it out. Connor slowly turned on the video camera, and zoomed in. It was a jerky, blurry picture, but enough to make a lump form in his throat. The others crowded round.

"That looks like a raptor." Abby said.

Connor nodded. "It is a raptor. Just not that kind of raptor. Judging by the distance, its about four feet tall."

"Could be a utahraptor. How long is it?"

"Maybe ten feet, including the tail. It looks mean."

"Ay, it would do. Bit on the small side."

The team looked up from the video camera. They knew with sudden, horrifying certainty, that this utahraptor was a juvenile. Which raised some very important questions. Had it come through the anomaly alone? And if it hadn't, where were the proud parents?