Chapter 4

Aberrant Forms

In the fading afternoon light, the helicopter skimmed low along the coast, following the line where the dense jungle met the beach. The last of the fishing villages had flashed beneath them ten minutes ago. Now there was only vast dark Costa Rican jungle, mangrove swamps, and mile after mile of deserted sand. Sitting beside the pilot, Marty Guitierrez stared out the window as the coastline swept past. There were not even any roads out in this area, at least none that he could see.

Guitierrez was a quiet, bearded human American of thirty-six, a field biologist who had lived for the last eight years in Costa Rica. He had originally come to study the vast species of birds in the rain forest, but stayed on as a consultant to the Reserva Biológica de Carara, the national park in the north. He clicked the radio mike and said to the pilot, "How much farther?"

"Five minutes at most Señor."

He nodded and turned to his companion. "We won't be long now." But the tall crocodile folded up in the back seat did not answer, or even acknowledge that he had been spoken to. He merely sat, with his hand on his chin, and stared frowning out the window.

Vector Levine wore sun-faded cargo shorts, and Downunda hat atop his head, with his trademark headphones poking out underneath. A battered pair of binoculars hung around his neck. But despite his rugged appearance, Levine conveyed an air of scholarly absorption. Behind his wire-frame spectacles, his features were sharp, his expression intense and critical as he looked out the window.

"What is this place?"

"It's called Rojas."

"So we're far south?"

"Yes. Only about fifty miles from the border with Panama."

Vector stared at the jungle, "I don't see any roads," he said. "How was this thing found?"

"Couple of campers," Gutierrez explained. "They came in by boat, landed on the beach."

"When was that?"

"Yesterday. They took one look at the thing, and ran like hell."

Vector nodded. With his arms folded up, his hands tucked under his chin, he looked like a praying mantis crossed over with and crocodile. That had been his nickname in graduate school: Mantis, in part because of his appearance – and in part because of his tendency to bite off the head of anyone who disagreed with him.

Figuratively speaking of course.

"We're here," Guitierrez said, pointing out the window as the helicopter banked, circling a beach.

The beach was a clean, curving white crescent, entirely deserted in the afternoon light. To the south, they saw a single dark mass in the sand. From the air, it looked like a rock, or perhaps a large clump of seaweed. The shape was amorphous, about five feet across. There were lots of footprints around it.

"Who's been here?" Vector said, with a sigh.

"Public Health Service people came out earlier today."

"Did they do anything?" he said. "They touch it, disturb it in any way?"

"I can't say." Guitierrez said.

"The Public Health Service," Vector repeated, shaking his head. "What do they know? You should have never let them near it, Marty."

"Hey," Guitierrez said. "I don't run this country. I did the best I could. They wanted to destroy it before you even got here. At least I managed to keep it intact until you arrived. Although I don't know how long they'll wait."

"Then we better get started," Levine said. He pressed the button on his mike. "Why are we still circling? We are losing light. Get down on the beach now. I want to see this thing first hand."

Vector Levine ran across the sand toward the dark shape, his binoculars bouncing against his chest. Even from a distance he could smell the unpleasant stench of decay. And already he was logging his preliminary impressions. The carcass lay half-buried in the sand, surround by a thick cloud of flies. The skin was bloated with gas, which made identification difficult.

He paused a few yards away from the creature, and took out his camera. Immediately, the pilot of the helicopter came up alongside him, pushing his hand down. "No permitado."

"What?"

"I am sorry Señor. No pictures allowed."

"Why the hell not?" Vector snapped. He turned to Guitierrez, who was trotting down the beach toward them. "Marty, why no pictures? This could be an important-"

"No pictures," the pilot said again, and he pulled the camera out of Vector's hand, who didn't let it go without a fight.

"Marty, this is crazy."

"Just go ahead and make your examination. I'll see what I can do." Guitierrez said, and then he began speaking in Spanish to the pilot, who answered sharply and angrily, waving his hands.

Vector watched a moment, then turned away. The hell with this, he thought. They could argue forever. He hurried forward, breathing through his mouth. The odor was much stronger as he approached it. Although the carcass was large, he noticed there were no birds, rats, or other scavengers feeding on it. There were only flies – flies so dense they covered the skin, and obscured the outline of the dead animal.

Even so, it was clear that this had been a substantial creature, roughly the size of a cow or horse before the bloat began to enlarge it further. The dry skin had cracked under the sun and was now peeling upward, exposing the layer of runny, yellow subdermal fat beneath.

Oof, it stunk! Vector winced. He forced himself closer, directing all of his attention to the animal.

Although it was the size of a cow, it was clearly not a mammal. The skin was hairless. The original skin color appeared to be green. The pattern seemed similar to the skin of a lizard. The prominent skin folds at the neck, shoulder, and hip joints – again, like a lizard.

But the carcass was large. Vector estimated it had probably weighted about a hundred kilograms originally, roughly two hundred and twenty pounds. No lizards grew that large anywhere in the world, in exception to the Komodo dragons of Indonesia. Nine foot tall lizards, crocodile sized carnivores that ate goats and pigs and on occasion human beings or anthros as well. And even if perhaps the Komodo dragons somehow ended up down here, this would be a record sized animal.

He moved slowly around the carcass, nearly half of it was buried and it was laying on its side, making analysis difficult. The long neck was curved, the head hidden beneath the bulk of the body like a duck's head under feathers. Vector saw one forelimb, which seemed very small and weak. The distal appendage was buried in sand. He would dig that out and have a look at it, but he wanted to take pictures before he disturbed the specimen.

In fact, the more Vector saw of this carcass, the more carefully he thought he should proceed. Because one thing was clear – this was a very rare and possible unknown animal. If this discovery was as significant as he was beginning to think it was, then it was essential that it be properly documented.

Up the beach is friend was still shouting at the pilot, who kept shaking his head stubbornly. Curse those banana – republic bureaucrats, Vector thought. Why shouldn't her take any pictures? It couldn't harm anything. And it was vital that this creature should be properly documented.

He heard a thumping, and looked up to see a second helicopter circling the bay, its dark shadow sliding across the sand. This helicopter was ambulance white, with red lettering on the side. In the glare of the setting sun, he could not read it.

He went back to the carcass, noticing how the hind leg of the animal was powerfully muscled, very different from the foreleg. It suggested that this creature walked upright, balanced on strong hind legs. Many lizards were known to stand upright, of course, but none so large as this. In point of fact, Vector looked at the general shape of the creature, he felt increasingly certain this was not a lizard.

Standing by the thigh, he saw the epidermis was split open, no doubt from the gas buildup. But as Vector looked closer, he saw the split was in fact a large gash, and that it ran deep through the femorotibialis, exposing red muscle and pale bone beneath. He ignored the stench, and the white maggots that wriggled across the open tissues of the gash, because he realized that –

"Sorry there is nothing I can do," Guitierrez said coming over.

"Marty," Vector sighed. "I really need to take pictures here."

"I'm afraid you can't." he said, "I tired, but you just can't."

Farther down the beach, the white helicopter landed its whine diminishing. Men in uniforms began getting out.

"It looks like a large iguana-" Guitierrez said.

"No Marty," Vector said. "It's not an iguana."

"You're probably just thrown off because of its size. The fact is, here in Costa Rica, we occasionally encounter these-"

"Marty," Vector said coldly. "I am never thrown off."

"Well, of course, I didn't mean that-"

Back at the helicopter, the men were huddled together, putting on white surgical masks.

"And I'm not telling you, this is not a lizard," Vector said. He leaned in examining the gash. "Give me your knife."

"Why?"

"Just give it to me."

Guitierrez fished out his pocketknife, put the handle in Vector's out stretched hand, Vector peered steadily at the carcass. "I think you will find this interesting."

"What?"

"Right along the posterior dermal line, there is a –"

Suddenly, they heard a shouting on the beach, and looked up to see the men from the white helicopter running down the beach toward them. They carried tanks on their backs, and were shouting in Spanish.

"What are they saying?" Vector asked, frowning.

Guitierrez sighed. "They're saying to get back."

"Tell them we're busy," Vector said, and bent over the carcass again.

But the men kept shouting, and suddenly there was a roaring sound, and Vector looked up to see flamethrowers igniting, big red jets of flame roaring out in the evening light. He ran around the carcass toward the men, shouting, "No! No!"

But the men paid no attention.

He shouted, "No, this is a priceless-"

The first of the uniformed men grabbed Vector, and threw him roughly to the sand.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vector yelled, scrambling to his feet. But even as he said it, he saw it was to late, the first of the flames had reached the carcass, blackening the skin, igniting the pockets of methane with a blue whump! The smoke from the carcass began to rise thickly into the sky.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Vector turned to Guitierrez. "Make them stop it!"

But Guitierrez was not moving, he was staring at the carcass. Consumed by flames, the torso crackled and the fat sputtered, and then as the skin burned away, the flat ribs of the skeleton were revealed, and then the whole torso turned, and suddenly the neck of the animal swung up, surrounded by flames, moving as the skin contracted. And inside the flames Vector saw a long pointed snout, and rows of sharp predatory teeth, and hollow eye sockets, the whole thing burning like some medieval dragon rising in flames up into the sky.

His backpack slung over his shoulder, Vector walked toward the departure lounge. He turned to wave goodbye to Guitierrez, but his friend was already heading out the door, raising his arm to wave for a taxi. Vector shrugged, turned back.

Guitierrez had said, the Costa Rican government burned every carcass that they found. This made an obvious message to Vector that it had to be because of InGen.

Directly ahead was the customs desk, travelers lined up to have their passports stamped. He was booked on a night flight to San Francisco, with a long stopover in Mexico City; not many people were queuing up. He probably had time to call his office, and leave word for his secretary, he probably should call Malcolm too. Looking at a row of phons, he frowned, there were only four and all were full. He had better use his satellite phone in his backpack, he though, as he swung the pack off his shoulder, and perhaps it would be-

He paused, frowning.

He looked back at the wall.

Four people were using the phones. The first was a blonde woman in shorts and a halter-top, bouncing a young sunburned child in her arms as she talked. Next to her stood a bearded man in a safari jacked, who glanced at his gold watch. Then there was a gray-haired, grandmotherly woman talking in Spanish, while her two full-grown sons stood by, nodding emphatically.

And the last person was the helicopter pilot. He had removed his uniform jacket, and was standing in short sleeves and tie. He was turned away, facing the wall, shoulders hunched.

Vector moved closer, and heard the pilot speaking in English. Vector set his pack down and bent over it, pretending to adjust the straps while he listened. The pilot was still turned away from him.

He heard the pilot say. "No, no sir. It is not that way. No." then there was a pause. "No," the pilot said. "I am telling to you, no. I am sorry, Mr. Dodgson, but this is not known. It is an island, but which one….We must wait again for more. No, he leaves tonight. No, I think he does not know anything, an no pictures. No. I understand. Adiós."

Vector ducked his head as the pilot walked briskly toward the LACSA desk at the other end of the airport.

"What the hell?" he thought.

It is an island, but which one…

Maybe, he thought, we know more than we realize. He looked thoughtfully toward the departure gate. It was time to catch his flight.

They were meeting again same diner, late at night. The news Metal had however was not good. Ludlow stared at him, eyes full of fury.

"Where is he?" he growled.

"I don't know. And I'm afraid, uh, it's going to be hard to find out."

"Why is that?"

Metal hesitated, coughed. "Because he was on the passenger manifest of the flight from Costa Rica says he checked out of his motel in San José before the flight, and never went back. Didn't take any other flight out of the city. So, uh, for the moment, I'm afraid that Vector Levine has disappeared."

"There was a long silence. Ludlow sat back in the booth, hissing between his teeth. He looked at Dodgson, who shook his head. Ludlow very carefully picked up all the sheets of paper, tapped them on the table, making a neat stack. He slipped them back into the manila envelope, and handed the envelope to Dodgson.

"Now listen," Ludlow said. "There is only one thing I want from you now. It's very simple. Are you listening?"

Dodgson nodded. "I'm listening."

Ludlow leaned across the table, "Find him," he said. "Now, unless you have anything else for me, I suggest you leave."

Dodgson leaned back, "Actually I do,"

Ludlow raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"A….incident, if you may call it." Dodgson said, "has just occurred recently that may have to do with InGen."

And then he smiled.

In his cluttered office in Berkeley, Shadow looked up from his desk as his assistant, Maria, came into the room. She was followed by a man from the DHL, carrying a small box.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Dr. Malcolm, but you have to sign these forms…It's that sample from Costa Rica."

Shadow stood, and walked around the desk. He did not use his cane. In recent weeks, he had been working steadily to walk without the cane. He still had occasional pain in his leg, but he was determined to get past that.

If Levine were lucky enough to find this so-called "Lost World" he was probably going to be dragged along, and there was no point in having a weak leg.

Shadow took the clipboard from the deliveryman and quickly signed the top form: "Delivery of Excluded Materials / Samples: Biological Research."

The deliveryman said, "You have to check the boxes, sir."

Shadow looked at the list of questions running down the page, with a check beside each. Was the specimen alive? Was the specimen a culture of bacteria, fungi, viruses, or protozoa? Was the specimen registered under an established research protocol…

He checked off "No" to everything.

"And the next page, too sir," the deliveryman said. He was looking around the office, at the stacks of papers heaped untidily about, the maps on the walls with the colored pins stuck in them. "You do medical research here?"

Shadow flipped the page, scrawled his signature on the next form, "No."

"And one more, sir…."

The third form was a release of liability to the carrier. Shadow signed it as well. The delivery man said, "Have a good day sir," and left.

Shadow sighed and leaned against his desk. "What's in the package Maria?"

The blonde woman tore the wrapping off the package, revealing a small stainless-steel cylinder the size of his fist. A triple-bladed biohazard sign was taped across the screw top lid Attached to the cylinder was a second small canister with a metal valve; it contained the refrigerant gas.

Shadow swung the light over the cylinder, and said, "Let's see was Levine was so excited about." He broke the taped seal and unscrewed the lid. There was a hiss of gas, and a faint white puff of condensation. The exterior of the cylinder frosted over.

Peering in, he saw a plastic baggie, and a sheet of paper. He up-ended the cylinder, dumping the contents onto the table. The baggie contained a ragged piece of greenish flesh about two inches square with a small green plastic tag attached to it. He held it up to the light, examined it with a magnifying glass, then it set it down again. He looked at the green skin, the pebbled texture.

"Maybe," he thought, "It couldn't be? Could it?"

Maybe….

"Maria," he said, "call Sattler down at the university, tell I have something for her."

"Shelly Sattler?" Maria asked. "Doesn't she do plant life? Shouldn't you contact a zoo expert like Silver Harding? Or perhaps her old teacher Dr. Grant?"

"No, no," Shadow said, shaking his head, "Grant is too busy, as is Harding. But I'm pretty sure Sattler will be able to identify this, she worked with Grant long enough."

Maria nodded, and went out of the room to phone. Alone, Shadow unrolled the strip of paper that had come with the sample. It was a piece of paper torn from a yellow legal pad. In block printing, it said:

I WAS RIGHT AND YOU WERE WRONG.

Shadow frowned. That son of a bitch, he thought. "Maria? After you call Sattler, get Vector Levine at his office. I need to talk to him right away."

"Uh, sir," Maria said, "I just received a message for you. You're being summoned, he said it was urgent."

Shadow sighed, "Who?"

"He said his name was Big Hammond."

Shadow shifted nervously as he hit the doorbell to the large mansion. Chaos what was he doing here? What mad cosmic force brought him to the doorstep of the man who had caused all the trouble?

Before he could even think about retreating back to his car, a elderly butler opened the door, "Who shall I tell Mr. Hammond is calling."

Shadow suddenly felt a loss for words, " Uh, Dr. Shadow Malcolm? I have been, um, I have been summoned."

The butler nodded and stepped politely inside to let him in. "This way please." He said as he closed the door.

An old grandfather clock chimed as he followed the old man up the marble stairs in the entrance hall. Each step made the urge to leave stronger. "Wait here please." The butler informed, leaving Shadow at the top of the stairs.

Chaos what am I thinking? He thought.

A clicking of a door sounded in the distance but Shadow made no movement to follow the sound, till suddenly,

"Dr. Malcolm!"

Shadow turned around to see two very familiar faces hurrying down a flight of stairs to greet him.

"Oh my God," he said softly, a smile creeping up his lips. "Kids."

Tails and Creamed hurried towards him, faces bright and smiles wide. "Dr. Malcolm it's so good to see you!" Cream said.

They both rushed in hugging him, "Kids, kids" Shadow said, "It's so great to see you."

"It's great to see you to," Tails said pulling away.

"Look at you two," Shadow said, "You're all grown up, Tails are you starting college now? How are you're tails working for you."

"Yes," Tails said, "I'll be going in a few months. My tails are doing great. I'm able to fly for long periods of time, and carry my sister."

"That's great to hear. Cream! You're just lovely."

Cream smiled, tugging at her long hair, "Thank you Dr. Malcolm."

Both of the children had grown and were no longer the little kids he had met so long ago. Tails had grown in height, and now looked like a well built young man. Cream had blossomed like a rose, her tomboyish attire replaced with more feminine clothes and qualities. Both children had come a long way.

"You came to see Grandpa?" Tails asked.

"Yes," Shadow said, "He uh, wanted to see me."

"What ever happened to you never wanted to see him again?" Cream teased.

"Well I don't" Shadow said, "But it sounded urgent, is everything alright?"

Their smiles dropped, and Cream glanced down the hall, "Well, not exactly," she said.

"What do you mean?"

Tails shifted, "Something's…happened. I think it has to do with…you know."

"You think it had to do with the island?" Shadow asked. "But wasn't it destroyed? You saw it go up in flames, how…"

"We don't know." Cream said softly.

Shadow put a hand on her shoulder, as the sound of footsteps echoed off the stairs, the trio turned their heads and watched as a group of business men walked down them. All of them chattered at a indistinct tone, making it hard to hear. Another familiar face appeared, this one however, was none too friendly.

"Uh, listen kids," Shadow turned back to the youths. "It's been so good to see you. We should stay in touch more often. I'd like to know what's going on with you guys."

Tails nodded, "Yeah, we should. We have your office number actually. We'll call you sometime."

Shadow smiled, "Great. Again, it was good to see you."

"It was good to see you to, Dr. Malcolm," Cream said, as she and her brother hugged him once more. Before pulling back and walking off.

Shadow gave them one final wave before turning to the other man, busy signing papers. He looked up, "Ah Dr. Malcolm.

"Jack Ludlow." Shadow said coolly.

"Here to exchange dinosaur stories with my Uncle?" Ludlow asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Ludlow sighed, "Don't play coy with me Dr. Malcolm. I know the rumors are true. And that my uncle, you , and many others know something that you won't speak about. But it doesn't matter anymore, I've learned everything I've needed to know. Even Miles and Cream knew about your little secrets you alongside my uncle."

"Leave them out of it." Shadow said.

"You signed a document before your visit to Isle Nublar that forbade you from discussing what you saw. But now I know there were dinosaurs on that island there is no longer any need to stay quiet."

Shadow growled, "If you plan on making the same mistake you uncle made that would be unwise. I was on that island; I saw what you did not see. I-"

"I will not be making the mistakes my uncle made," Ludlow, said, "I am merely, cleaning up the mess that nearly ruined InGen."

"Pity it didn't."

"InGen is my responsibility now Dr." Ludlow said, as he finished signing the papers, "And I will repair it at all costs."

"Your responsibility?" Shadow questioned, "What about Mr. Hammond."

Ludlow turned to him, walking slowly over, "It is out board of directors I must face, not my uncle. In a few weeks time InGen will be back on its feet again." He said as he walked by.

Shadow grabbed his arm stopping him short. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Ludlow glared at him, "Careful…." He said, "This suit costs more than your education." He pulled away, leaving Shadow alone in the room.

"You were right and I was wrong. There! Did you ever expect to hear me say that?" Big Hammond said from his spot on his large bed.

Shadow stood by the entrance, silent as a stone, looking at the old cat he had come to loath so much.

Big sighed, "Thank God for Site B."

Shadow raised an eyebrow, "Site…B?"

"Yes," Big explained. "You see, Isle Nublar was just a showroom. Something for the tourists. Site B was the factory floor. Isle Sorna, eighty miles from Isle Nublar." He leaned forward, "We bred the animals there and nurtured them for a few month, and then moved them into the park."

Shadow walked closer, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Really? I did not know that."

"After the incident in the park," Big said, "The hurricane wiped out facility on Site B. Call it an act of God if you will. We had to evacuate and the animals were released, to mature on their own." He paused with a smiled, "'Life will find a way.' As you once so eloquently put it. By now we have a complete ecological system on the island, with dozens of species living in their own social groups. There are no fences, no boundaries or technology. And for six years I have kept it safe from human influence."

Shadow was shaking his head, "Well, hopefully, you have kept this island, this 'Site B' quarantined and contained. No animals sneaking off like last time I hope." He held up a finger, "But um. I am going to have to say I'm in shock about all this. Why didn't you say anything Hammond? I mean how are they still alive? You bred the lysine dependent. Why haven't they had, the coma, and died after- what was it? Twenty-four hours?"

Big laughed, "Yes! But by God, they're flourishing! That's one of the thousands of questions I want the team to answer."

Shadow was contemplating whether to hit the old man or not, but Hammond's statement caught him off guard. "Wait…did you say team?"

"Yes." Big said, clambering out of bed, "I've organized an expedition, to go in, and – oh thank you-"he said as Shadow helped him out, "to document them. To make the most spectacular living fossil record the world has ever seen."

"Go in a document…"Shadow echoed, "Wait, you mean with actual people?!"

"Yes," said Big cheerily, "The animals won't even know they're their. Very low impact. Strictly observation and documentation." He led Shadow to a computer, pointing, "Our satellites show that the animals are fiercely territorial. The carnivores are isolated on the interior of the island, while the herbivores are in the outer rim. The team can stay on the out rim as well. Don't worry I won't be making the same mistakes again." Big said with a laugh.

Shadow was shaking his head again, rubbing his eyes fiercely, "No. No. You're making all new ones. Gah!" He rubbed his face, "Big! So what you are saying there is another island with dinosaurs, no fences this time, and you want to send people in?! Very few people on the ground? Are you mad?" He dropped his hands, "Who are these for lunatics you are trying to con into this?"

Big shrugged, "Well it was difficult to explain to them what they will see. And in the long run I had to open my check book for half of them. But we were planning on a team of five. I was looking for the Vector Levine, who seemed so obsessed with figuring us out. But we can't seem to get a hold of him. But there is Manic Van Thorne, he's a male green hedgehog. He is a video documenter and provides field equipment. Snively Carr a human and Manic's partner in field equipment. We have our animal expert, and I was uh, hoping the last one would be you Malcolm."

Shadow pointed to himself. "Me? Why me? Why not Grant? Not like I would ever want him to go onto another damn dinosaur island."

Big sighed, patting Shadow on the shoulder, "We've been on the verge of chapter eleven since the whole incident with the park. There are those in the company who wanted to exploit Site B, in order to bail us out. They've been planning it for years and I've been able to stop them until now." He sighed again, "But you see, a few weeks ago. A American family on a yacht cruise, stumbled across Site B, and their wee girl was injured."

Shadow opened his mouth, but Big cut in, "Oh she's fine, she's fine. However, uh, the board of directors has used the incident to take control of InGen from me. Now it is only a matter of time before this 'Lost World' is found and pillaged. Public opinion is the one thing I can use to preserve it, but in order to rally that support. I need a complete photo record of those animals, alive and in their natural habitat."

Shadow sighed, "So you went from capitalist to naturalist in just six years." He rolled his eyes, "That's something."

Big patted his chest, "It's our last chance at redemption Malcolm."

There was a moment of silence before Shadow leaned in with a sigh, "Big…" he paused and then with a slight shake of his head, "No."

He pulled away, "Of course, no. And I'm going to the other members of your team and I'm going to stop them from going." Shadow reached for the phone, "Who's the animal expert by the way?"

Big pointed at him, "She, she came to me, I want you to know that."

Shadow turned, "Who did?"

Big shook as finger at him, "Leave it to you to have associations with the best people in so many fields."

Shadow paled, "No. No, no no, no! You did not send her."

"She came to me!"

Shadow growled and he marched up to that old cat, staring him right in the eye, "Tell me. TELL ME. You did not send Rouge!"

Gasp!

What is this? Another chapter? In a little over twenty four hours? I must be feeling guilty for making you guys wait so long on the last one if this one came out so soon. I hope I can keep this up. :)

And look it's even a 5,000 + worded chapter! So I gave you a long one! We are so close to the island I can practically sense the raptors stalking us and hear the rexes roaring, and feel unknown predators hiding in the shadows! Soon the terror and action will start hurrah! Probably in two or three more chapters to!

Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter! See you soon!