Chapter 29

Missing

Tim awoke groggily in the gloom that surrounded him, and shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden surface on which he lay. He groaned as drumbeats of pain shot through his skull. Waves of nausea washed over him, and he struggled for a few moments not to throw up all over himself.

Slowly, he came back to reality, his vision sharpening. He was on his back, facing the black sky, illuminated by countless pinpricks of light. For a moment or two he just stared upwards at the stars and the moon, knowing that so many other people in the world were staring up at the very same sky, safe and oblivious. Picking out a few of the constellations that he recognized, he wished that he had never come here. Suddenly his carefully laid plans seemed childishly foolish. He had stranded himself and many others on an island where man was no longer welcome.

Tim squinted for a moment, and wondered what had woken him. He had a vague recollection of a thud, or a vibration, moments before awakening. Perhaps it had been a dream. He decided that it was just his imagination.

A cool breeze ran through the twisted branches of the densely packed trees, brushing his face gently. In the starlight the tips of the branches above him gave off a silvery glow as they swayed slowly, almost dancing to the rhythm of the jungle chorus.

Despite the rough bark, which was damp and dripping with moisture, it was quite a pleasant place to spend the night. But his body felt so battered he had no time to admire the scenery. Everything hurt. He felt weak, devoid of energy, and had neither the strength nor the will to shift from his less than adequate position.

Before going to sleep he had noticed that his entire body was bruised and covered with small scrapes and cuts. Slashes and droplets of blood streaked his clothes, which themselves were torn and ragged. It was almost a shock to see how much a single day in the jungle had caused him to deteriorate.

He had been momentarily surprised, not being able to remember how he had managed to get all of the injuries. But in the end it was to be expected; they had come crashing down in a helicopter after being attacked by prehistoric flying monsters, and had ever since been pursued by their land dwelling relatives.

Tim had found that the events of the day had flooded his mind, and he had found himself unable to sleep for over an hour, replaying the various encounters.

Memories from his childhood, long forgotten, came streaming back, taunting him.

He had remembered being in that car as the torrential rain poured outside, and watched as the glass of water on the dashboard had shuddered suddenly. The deep, booming sounds, which seemed to go right through him, heralding the arrival of the Rex were so crisp in his mind it was as if not a day had gone by since the event had transpired.

Most of all he could not get rid of the image of the Tyrannosaur as it awoke suddenly as they so foolishly dared to enter its nesting area. The cold, golden, reptilian glare was emblazoned on his memory.

Groaning, he rolled onto his side, and looked around in the dark. He, Wu and Rodriguez had climbed the largest and sturdiest tree that they could find, one with strong, thick branches that would support their weight. Tim had insisted on climbing at least forty feet before he felt safe enough to stop. Here they were near to the canopy, and he was fairly certain that none of the dinosaurs on the island could climb trees.

At least, he hoped they couldn't.

Because, the truth was that his Grandfather, however well intentioned his actions had been, had become far too involved in raking in the dollars, and had lost his grip on the seriousness of the cutting edge technology that he was employing to fund his scheme.

He had ordered hundreds of these ancient beings to be brought back from extinction, when nobody knew anything about their behaviour, social structure or potential threat to human life.

Instead of studying each individual closely for an extended period of time, carefully documenting the behaviour it expressed and creating the park keeping the animals in mind, they were simply clumped together in large herds and released into the wilderness of the islands.

Of course, nobody had predicted that anything would happen to the island or InGen, and that everybody had expected to make billions of dollars, leading their research far into the future. But the fact remained that they had only a few short years to study these animals, and that in reality they knew virtually nothing about them.

There could be all sorts of surprises still in store for them.

Of course, when Tim had taken over from his Grandfather, he had long since promised himself that he would not overlook such basic and obvious mistakes. He made sure that he kept himself open minded to all possibilities, even those that he found distasteful.

And now, after years of research and careful planning, InGen was blooming once more. Because he had been patient, and had done his best to keep himself from falling into the same trap as his predecessor.

And then the DX virus had reappeared. He had suspected that it would happen one day. Perhaps it would've happened in a few years, or fifty years into the future, but deep down he had always known that it would resurface one day. Ever since his Grandfather had told him on his death bed. If he had used the precious time he had left to disclose that information with him, it must have been of great importance. He had known that from the start.

He had known that as much as he knew that once it did reappear, he would have to act quickly. The flimsy deal with the Costa Ricans was solely dependant on the fact that these animals were secluded in a contained area controlled by either themselves or aid from the United States military forces (who also monitored the five deaths island chain) and the promise that they posed no threat to human life.

The truth was that in reality both promises had been broken, and then some. The animals were washing up on shoreline all over the west coasts of countries all along the Americas.

For a time this was grudgingly accepted by the Costa Ricans, and covered up, as although the animals they were in fact dead and as such posed no threat.

But now, this disease posed a real threat. It indicated quarantine, and a possible worldwide epidemic. Even if such things could be avoided, if the truth got out it would mean the end for the Costa Rican economy.

He had known that the hammer would fall hard when they found out about this, but he had never expected them to go to the lengths that they already had.

To kill a man, in sole interest of maintaining economical integrity, was unavoidably wrong. And who knew if they had covered up the deaths of others?

After he found out about Mike Bakker's 'death', he had no illusions about that fact that they would swiftly move on the InGen islands. And if they found the most dangerous secret; that Isla Nublar still harboured dinosaurs, they wouldn't hesitate to destroy it. And he was certain that the US would feel the same way.

It was only a matter of time.

However, after all this time, and despite his best efforts, the blindingly efficient Ian Malcolm had seemed to see right through him. Before they had even set off he had promised Tim that his plan for procuring the vaccine would fail. But he had never explained why that was.

Tim would have to find out as soon as possible, because if he could predict things to this point, then what else could go wrong? For some reason he found that he had a strange confidence in Malcolm's abilities.

He sighed, and listened idly to the sounds that seemed to emanate from deep in the jungle, from above, from below; all around him. He could hear the ringing, clicking and croaking of millions of insects, birds and frogs. Some of them were probably dinosaurs too.

He listened to the slow, steady breathing of the others, a few branches below him. It was strangely comforting to know that despite the dire situation that he now found himself in – again – that at least he wasn't alone.

And the—

He cocked his head. Something was wrong.

He strained, listening. He tried to distinguish their breathing. The rancorous orchestra of other sounds made it difficult to hear them at all. But he was sure of it now. He could only hear one of them.

His heart skipping a beat, he snapped his head to look down below.

Wu lay below him, lying on his stomach, gripping the branch like a monkey. His chest slowly rose and fell underneath his clothing, making him seem to throb in the darkness. After looking at the sky for several minutes Tim was astonished at how dark it was beneath the broad canopy of the jungle. He could barely distinguish the outline of his own tree from the inky blackness. He was only able to see Wu because of the movement that his breathing created.

He scanned the branches for Rodriguez's silhouette, scrambling up onto his hands and knees. He broke out in a cold sweat as he realized that he and Wu were alone in the tree.

Rodriguez was not there.