Chapter 14

The Field

Anderson grunted as he cut steadily through the thick tangles of vines and branches, swinging his machete is wide arcs. The muscles stood out sharply from underneath his uniform, and beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, but he carried on, oblivious. His years of training had hardened him to the rugged conditions of all climatic regions. He had spent two years stationed in the Amazon rainforest, and was used to tropical conditions.

They had been moving through the dense jungle for several minutes, and hadn't encountered anything of interest. Despite the lack of appearances of the animals, none of them doubted that they were not alone.

"Why do you think we haven't seen anything?" said Guiterrez after a while.

"Well, I suppose that most of the predators are hiding. It's much harder to hunt in the morning, said Tim.

"It also helps to be lucky," said Malcolm, smiling wryly.

Anderson had his left hand resting on the butt of his sidearm, ready to defend them if they were attacked. His other arm was slicing the endless wall of foliage that lay in their path.

The others were trundling along behind him, looking around wearily. The forest looked eerie and intimidating around them. Malcolm had almost completely recovered, and was walking easily, but Sarah continued to watch him carefully. They had all calmed down considerably, but the snarls and hoots that emanated from the forest all around them ensured that all of them were on edge.

The drone of Cicadas continued to echo throughout the jungle, ringing loudly in their ears. They could hear the soft gurgle of water nearby. Anderson stopped in his tracks, and turned around to look at them.

"Let's take a breather," he said.

"Are you sure it's safe?" asked Guiterrez.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," smiled Anderson, indicating the automatic rifle that he had slung over his back.

They all sat down gratefully, and pulled out bundles bottles of water. Everybody was sweating in the confined spaces of the jungle, and needed to replace the fluids that they had lost. Anderson remained standing, and strolled around lazily, seemingly unaffected by the forest.

While they all drank thirstily, Tim stood and walked over to Wu. With a sigh he collapsed to the ground beside him, and rubbed his forehead.

"Are we still going in the right direction?" he asked.

Wu dived back into his back, and poked around inside for a few moments. He brought out his small compass, and waited for a second as the needle settled into place. He nodded briefly.

"Yes, we're still on course."

"You sure?"

Wu gave him a withering look, and stuffed his compass back into his bag.

Satisfied, Tim sat down, and took off his boots. Upturning them, he shook out a few small stones, and massaged his foot firmly.

Anderson was frowning, staring into the forest silently. He remained motionless for some time.

"What is it?" asked Malcolm.

"The trees are thinning out here," said Anderson.

He pointed ahead of them, where thin ropes of light where showing through the canopy. The trees were more sparsely spaced, and there was no tangle of vines on the floor. Tim looked up, and shrugged.

"Must be a clearing, perhaps one of the deforested areas," he said.

"Is it the one we passed over earlier?" asked Anderson.

Tim shrugged again.

"Maybe."

"Should we go through it?" said Anderson.

"I'm not sure. We'll have to take a look first."

A minute later they walked through the jungle once again, moving easier due to the lack of underbrush. Anderson no longer needed to cut their way through the forest, and had slipped his machete into a sheath on his back. He walked freely, but kept his hand on his sidearm for reassurance. They moved much quicker now, and the sound of their footsteps was deadened by the mud.

Up ahead the trees were even thinner, and Anderson sensed a large open space. He could hear a loud honking sound, like many geese.

The trees ended in a sharp line a few meters away, and a last barrier of fronds blocked their view of what was beyond. They could see that on the other side of the foliage was bright sunlight, with no canopy of trees to interrupt it.

The honking was far louder in their ears now, and seemed to vibrate in the air. Now the sound of heavy footsteps joined the honking sound, making the floor shake slightly. They all froze in place before the foliage, and crouched down. They turned to Tim for answer.

"Is it safe?" said Anderson.

"It should be," said Tim.

The honking sound continued, coming from the other side of the fronds. The gurgle of water was louder here too, like a fast flowing current.

"Must be a river," said Malcolm.

"Do you know what they are?" said Anderson, indicating the honking coming from the clearing.

Tim smiled widely.

"Should we go?" said Guiterrez impatiently.

Tim winked, and nodded, still staring ahead. Anderson slowly unclipped the pistol from its holster at his side, and drew it up to cheat level. Pulling back the top of the barrel, he cocked the weapon with a quiet click. He reached up cautiously, and parted the frond with his outstretched hand.

There was a sharp whistle as they all drew a sharp breath through their teeth, and their eyes widened. They stared open mouthed in silence.

"Oh, my lord," breathed Anderson.

They faced a wide grassy plain, with a large river coursing through the centre. Off to one side was a lake, the waves shimmering in the morning sun. The grass was over four feet tall, and was dense on the ground. It danced and waved in the wind lazily. In the distance, barely visible, was where the tree line began once more, almost half a mile away. On the right the mountains towered over the field, the red tainted volcanic rock shining in the harsh light of the sun.

But none of them had noticed the beautiful scenery. They had hardly glanced at it. They were all staring in awe at what was in front of them.

"Holy crap," said Guiterrez, grinning wildly.

The honking blasted towards them once more, ear splittingly close. But they were far from threatened by what they saw.

A large group of duck billed dinosaurs stood a few meters in front of them, grazing on the low lying ferns that were growing at the edge of the jungle.

Almost fifteen feet tall, the dinosaurs had a dark green colouration, and honked mournfully. Running from the backs of their heads were long, tube-like structures that curved slightly at the end. Several smaller dinosaurs scampered around at the adult's feet, giving off high pitched squeals. The grass surrounding the animals had been trampled flat, making a small area where the young could play.

The dinosaurs turned to look at the humans as they emerged from the trees, with pieces of plant matter hanging from the sides of their jaws. They had a peaceful, almost stupid look about them. They continued to stare at them for a few seconds, not moving. When the people didn't move, they simply lost interest and went back to chewing on the foliage. The ground shuddered slightly as their feet shifted on the ground.

"They're like cows," said Anderson quietly, smiling widely.

"Yes," said Tim, "The duck billed dinosaurs weren't especially smart."

The largest of the animals raised itself onto its hind legs, and turned to look at them again, curious of the sounds that they were making.

It looked at them for a few moments, and took a step forwards, staring at them. It was close enough for them to see the faint striations running along its flanks, and its rib cage rising and falling as it drew breath. Guiterrez shifted his stance slightly, and the dinosaur honked in alarm at his sudden movement.

"Are we scaring it?" said Guiterrez.

"Hmm," said Tim, reaching down for a small branch that lay discarded on the ground, "Let me try a little experiment. Everybody, try and stay still for a moment please."

They all froze, looking at Tim curiously. He raised the branch slowly into the air above his head, and waved it from side to side. The dinosaur took another step forwards and stared at the branch.

Tim smiled, and stopped moving the branch. The dinosaur paused, and continued to stare at the branch. It cocked its head, to stare at it with alternating eyes. They could see the eyeball darting around in the socket, searching.

With a flourish, Tim threw the branch through the air, towards the dinosaur. It took a bound backwards, and honked in fresh alarm. The sound reverberated in the long nasal crest, and the air vibrated softly. The dinosaur looked confused, and unsure of what to do.

"What the hell is happening here?" asked Guiterrez.

Tim smiled wider, and dusted off his hands.

"I've read about this from the reports of the animal handlers who used to work on the islands," he said. "They have visual systems that are similar to that of modern day amphibians. They only see moving objects well. If something stops moving, they literally can't see it."

Malcolm moved up to stand next to him, laughing quietly.

"What's so funny?" asked Sarah.

"Oh, nothing. They're just so incredible," said Malcolm, still laughing.

"Does anybody know what these ones are called?" asked Anderson, staring at the duck bills apprehensively.

"I'm fairly confident that these are called Parasaurolophus," said Tim.

"And are these Parasaurolo-thingies dangerous?"

"No, I wouldn't think so. As long as we keep our distance, and don't surprise them, we should be fine."

Anderson nodded, and reluctantly replaced his pistol to its holster. The lead dinosaur was now honking to the others, nudging them in the hindquarters. The group slowly moved off, away from the humans. It turned its head frequently to look back at them, before continuing to nudge stray members of the herd.

"Must have upset her," said Guiterrez, shrugging.

"Look at this," came Wu's voice.

They all turned, expecting him to be standing next to them. But he wasn't there.

"Over here," he said.

He was standing on a small rise on their left, a small distance from the retreating Parasaurolophus. He had his arms crossed, and was staring ahead of him.

"What is it?" said Tim.

Wu turned to look at Tim over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling.

"Words could not explain it," he said.

They all climbed up to him, and followed his gaze.

"Jesus," said Guiterrez.

They all gaped at the view. Dinosaurs littered the ground all over the grassland, feeding peacefully in the morning sun. In front of them was a colossal leg. They all looked up slowly, following the leg upwards. They saw a massive body, mottled brown and dark red. They continued looking up, fifty feet into the air. A long, slender neck curved thirty feet up, and ended in a small, circular head. A slab like tail swung slowly at the back of the body, the whip like tip twisting and swaying. The head moved forwards slowly, and took a mouthful of vegetation from the tops of a nearby tree.

The giant took a single step forwards, and the ground seemed to ripple like water, emanating from the foot. They could see the rectangular; brick sized toenails, and the tough leathery skin, glowing in the sun.

"Brachiosaurus," said Guiterrez.

They all turned to him, surprised. His eyes glanced at them for a moment, and he smiled.

"Come on, everybody knows that one," he said.

Their eyes left the gentle giant, and they surveyed the grassy plain in silence.

There was a small group of duck billed dinosaurs standing knee deep in water, near the shore of the lake that they had seen earlier. Wet plantation hung from their mouths, while others had their heads submerged in the water. They lacked the nasal crest of the Parasaurolophus', and were a mottled beige colour. Their bills were flat and broad, and the lips were upturned slightly, which gave them the appearance of smiling. They stood almost twenty feet at the shoulder, and were almost forty feet long.

"Those ones are different from the Parasaurolo…things," said Anderson, pointing to the duck bills.

"They're maiasaurs," said Tim, observing them briefly.

"Bigger too," said Sarah.

"Yeah, they're almost as big as a two story building," said Tim, turning his attention to the other dinosaurs in the field.

"What are those ones?" said Anderson, pointing to a group of around fifty orange dinosaurs milling around in the distance.

They looked like oversized ostriches, and moved like them as well. They made screeching vocalizations, like excited puppies.

"Gallimimus," said Tim.

"They look like chickens…" said Guiterrez.

Tim nodded, and smiled.

"Yes, they're one of the more bird like dinosaurs," he said.

"So, do you think it's ok to walk through the field?" said Anderson.

Tim hesitated, and surveyed the field carefully. The others waited as he inspected the trees that surrounded the clearing, until Guiterrez cleared his throat.

"What are you looking for?" he said.

Tim didn't answer immediately, sweeping the field with his eyes for a final time.

"These clearings are usually prime hunting locations for predators," he said.

"I thought that you said that the predators wouldn't be out in the morning," said Wu.

Tim shrugged.

"It'd be foolish to just blunder into danger," he said.

They waited for several minutes as Tim continued to watch the clearing carefully.

"Well?" Sarah said finally.

Tim sighed deeply, and scratched his head absent mindedly.

"I think it's better to go around, we'll have the cover of the jungle, and we can climb a tree if something goes wrong."

"Sir that would take far too long," said Anderson, "going around could take us over an hour. Walking straight through is a much more direct route."

"Yes, but it's too risky to walk straight through. We don't even know if there are predators in the grass that we can't see," said Tim.

"Surely nothing threatening could hide in this."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Malcolm, and his eyes glossed over for a moment.

Anderson remained where he was, reluctant to sacrifice so much time.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yes, of course I am,"

They were all about to turn back to the tree line when one of the duck billed dinosaurs gave a shriek. They stared at the animal, which was turning in small circles, clearly agitated. Now other duck billed dinosaurs were honking, and taking steps back from the jungle, staring into the trees.

The Brachiosaurus looking at the panicking Hadrosaurs gave a long, low cry that echoed throughout the plain. But other than that it gave no indication of sensing danger.

The Gallimimus were screeching louder than before, and were circling around restlessly.

"What's up with them?" asked Wu.

Tim's eyes were darting around, and he was looking at the herbivores with fear. He started to slowly back away, towards the trees.

"Something's wrong," he said, "Run."

"What do you mean?" said Wu.

"Now!"

Tim ran for the cover of the trees, which stood only a hundred yards away. The others were at his heels, shouting questions over the cries of the dinosaurs, but he ignored them.

"Oh, shit!" shouted Guiterrez.

"What?" shouted Tim, over his shoulder.

"Those chicken things, they're stampeding!"

Tim glanced over his shoulder, and saw that the Gallimimus were sprinting across the clearing towards them. The ground was shaking violently, and they all stumbled in the long grass as they ran for the jungle.

The Gallimimus crossed the field with astonishing speed, and ran straight for them. Tim ran as fast as he could, but the dinosaurs were much faster. Within seconds the Gallimimus were on them.

The dinosaurs swarmed them, and engulfed the small group. Tim tried to see through the swirling mass of screeching bodies that surrounded him. He couldn't see anybody else, nor could he hear them over the dinosaur's high pitched screams. He continued to run for the trees, but he had to be careful and dodge the animals.

As he ran, one of the animals caught him in the small of his back, and he fell to the ground, wincing. The roar of the stampeding animals was all around him, and he saw countless pairs of feet stamping all around him.

He gasped in pain, and stumbled to his feet. He pushed on, more slowly this time.

A few seconds later he emerged from the other side of the herd, but he didn't stop. He ambled along towards the trees, where the others were already waiting for him. His back was painful, but he didn't dare stop. As he reached the tree line he launched himself pell-mell into the foliage.

"What the hell was that?" said Guiterrez a few minutes later. They all watched from the tree line as the Gallimimus continued to stampede across the clearing. The Hadrosaurs were milling about, circling their young, and roaring.

"There must be something nearby," said Tim, rubbing his back.

"Well, I don't want to stick around to find out what it is," said Anderson, standing up and drawing his pistol.

"Right," said Tim, "We better get moving."

They moved off along the edge of the forest, looking around cautiously. The roars of the herbivores continued to emanate from the clearing as they moved, but there was no sign of a predator.

Half an hour later they were nearing the halfway point around the edge of the clearing, when a Hadrosaur gave a scream of terror.

With a roar, a large black figure burst from the foliage on the opposite side of the field, and charged towards the Parasaurolophus. It stood eight feet off the ground, and was almost twenty five feet long. Its skin was black and leathery, with a series of white dotted patterns running along its snout.

It charged towards the Parasaurs, its head dipped.

The Parasaurs wheeled in fright, circling the babies, who were screaming in the center.

"I'm glad that you told us to go around," whispered Wu, looking at Tim.

"Me too," said Tim, staring at the predator.

"What is that thing?" Guiterrez said.

Tim stared at the animal closely for a second, squinting in the sun.

"I can't be sure. But I think that it's a Metriacanthosaurus," he said quietly.

Guiterrez snorted.

"A what?" he said.

"Metriacanthosaurus," repeated Tim, "Mid-Jurassic, found in Europe. It's suspected that it could have been the predecessors of species like Baryonyx and Spinosaurus."

The Parasaurs were forming a solid line of adults in front of the attacker. They stood up, onto their hind legs, and roared at the predator. They stamped at the ground, slamming their hind limbs into the mud. Plumes of dirt were thrown into the air, and formed a cloud of haze around them.

The Metriacanthosaurus stopped charging just in front of the line of Parasaurs, and growled. It stamped its foot, and roared fiercely.

Undeterred, the Parasaurs maintained the solid wall of bodies that separated it from the infants.

"They're protecting their babies," said Anderson.

"Yes," said Tim, "the Metriacanthosaurus is too small to take down an adult Parasaur, it's after one of their young. But this defense mechanism is remarkable. It's never been observed, or even suspected."

"Why would it?" said Malcolm, "None of the dinosaurs were allowed to intermingle when the park was active."

Tim shrugged, and continued to watch the attack.

The Metriacanthosaurus was stalking along the line of Parasaurs, looking for a weak link. It roared at them, enraged. But it was half-hearted, and it didn't approach any further.

Encouraged, the Parasaurs took a unanimous step forward, and renewed their efforts in driving the predator away.

The Metriacanthosaurus hissed, and turned away, defeated. It ran back the way it came, and disappeared into the jungle.

"Phew," said Guiterrez, "that was tense."

It only took them another fifteen minutes to reach the other side of the clearing. None of them wanted to stick around for the predator to come back. They re-entered the thickness of the jungle, and were plunged into almost total blackness once more.

"How much further to the power plant?" asked Anderson from up front, drawing his machete out again.

"A couple of miles," said Tim.

"Let's just hope that we don't run into any more trouble," murmured Malcolm.