Chapter 32

Tabula Rasa

They found Rodriguez's body the next morning; Anderson and Guiterrez went out through the gate to look for him before the others had woken up. It was just before dawn, and the sky was just beginning to show the first inklings of pink breaking through the deep navy blue tinge that coated the landscape. The moon was still out, casting a slight silver highlight onto the tips of the trees and roof of the shed.

Anderson trod carefully; the grass was soaked from the rainstorm, and muddy brown puddles were scattered everywhere. In front of them, behind them and to their right was pristine, untouched jungle, and to the left a small field extended for a few hundred metres, in which a few Microceratops skittered around, drinking from the puddles and chasing each other. Their eyes glowed eerily in the early pre-dawn light, and Anderson couldn't help but be spooked out by them a little.

They walked in silence, not daring to even utter a single word to each other, as they still had no idea whether the Metriacanthosaurus was in the area, if there were more of them, or what else inhabited this area. Anderson carried his Carbine rifle again, keeping it at his side, just in case they needed it quickly. Ten metres from the gate they found a large footprint, with three splayed talons forming the toes. Surrounding it were droplets of blood, showing bright red in contrast to the green carpet. Anderson could still hear the screams of Rodriguez in his mind, he had been replaying them ceaselessly since he had been killed. Anderson felt his stomach twist each time he saw the mental image of Rodriguez's eyes widening, and the fact that he had to watch the whole thing happen, helpless. Guiterrez walked forward, and left Anderson to inspect the print.

It was reminiscent of the Tyrannosaur footprints which he had seen earlier within the nest, but it was quite a bit smaller. It formed a lesser depression into the ground, as the animal was undoubtedly quite a bit lighter. Yet, even from the footprint he gained a feeling of a sizeable threat.

Anderson felt a great deal more cautious now that one of their party had been killed. He felt determined that there would be no further loss of life. The tree line lay exactly how it had been the night before, the foliage dancing innocently in the breeze, indifferent to the events that had transpired. Guiterrez was halfway between Anderson and the periphery of the jungle, and was continuing onwards, looking at the ground.

Looking down, Anderson saw that more footprints led away from the first, turning away from the direction of the maintenance shed, and heading towards the jungle. Many more droplets of blood accompanied the prints, in places there were arcs of bright red too, where Rodriguez had been slashed. But still, Anderson couldn't see the slumped shape of a body.

Guiterrez had stopped a few metres from the tree line, and was staring down at the ground in front of him. Anderson hurried to his side, and exhaled when he saw what Martin was staring at. The grass was torn up, and scattered everywhere, dark patches of wet earth showing through. Footprints matted the floor. All of it lay in a pool of congealed blood, bits of intestine and flesh bobbed around.

"Jesus," said Guiterrez.

"He'll be in there," said Anderson, looking towards the jungle. The footprints continued on, coupled with more blood streaks, into the trees in front of them.

Guiterrez nodded, and they both moved forwards, towards the forest, which appeared ever darker, and emanated the new chorus of sounds. These new sounds were slightly different from the ones that they had heard before, the animals were less active, and their song was relaxing, and oddly eerie.

Anderson stepped over the threshold into the jungle, followed by Guiterrez, looking carefully at the ground. It was extremely dark here, and Anderson had to turn on the light mounted to his rifle, casting a pool of bright light on the ground.

Rodriguez's body sat almost upright against a large tree trunk, staring sightlessly forwards. His torso had been torn and ripped apart; his chest cavity had been hollowed by the Metria. His left leg had been severed at the knee, and there were slashes all over his arms where he had tried to defend himself. His clothes were tattered, torn to shreds, one of his cheeks had been slashed, cutting through the flesh into his mouth.

Guiterrez had turned away, and gave a terrible gagging sound, bending over the underbrush.

Anderson reached forward gently, and closed Rodriguez's eyes, and sighed.

"We need to bury him, quickly," he said quietly.

Guiterrez stopped gagging long enough to spit out, "We're not taking him with us?"

Anderson shook his head. "We can't. As much as I hate to say it we can't afford anything that'll slow us down. And this is an active kill, the dinosaur will come back, and that's if other scavengers don't first. I think he'd much prefer we lay him to rest that to leave him for them. Anyway, we can't have them around here; we're leaving Malcolm here, and we don't want them prowling around."

Guiterrez nodded, and took the shovel which he had found in the shed and wedged between his pack and his body. He began digging a pit large enough to lay Rodriguez's remains in, making as little noise as possible while Anderson walked in wide circles around him, training his rifle at the surrounding jungle, watching out for signs of danger.

After ten minutes Guiterrez was panting, and had dug a hole four feet deep, and was covered in dirt. He climbed back out, and Anderson helped him to wrap Rodriguez's body within a long piece of cloth that they had found within the supplies in the shed. They did it carefully, trying not to move him too much, as the corpse was fragile in its massacred state. Together, glancing around ceaselessly, they lifted the bundle up and into the grave, laying it down gently.

They both crouched there for a moment, looking down at him.

"Should we say something?" asked Guiterrez.

Anderson nodded. After a moment, not knowing what to say, he simply said what came to his mind. "Rest in peace, Rodriguez. Know that you didn't die in vain. You have saved lives, and you'll never be forgotten."

He looked at Guiterrez, who nodded.

They both stood up, and turned to walk back to the shed. Anderson caught glimpse of one of the Microceratops leap from one of the branches high above the ground up ahead, flying across the gap within the trees, its glowing eyes turned into a streak of light.

"Did you find him?" asked Sarah as they slipped through the bars of the gate and into the shed, greeted by the familiar orange glow of the lighting strips. The shed was old, dank and leaking, but after venturing into the jungle for even such short a time caused it to feel cosy, a place of refuge.

"We found him. He was dead, we buried him," said Anderson, crossing the room towards Malcolm, looking down at him. He certainly wasn't getting any better; in fact he looked as if he was getting worse by the minute. Sarah bent down next to him, and soaked a cloth in water, laying it on his forehead. Malcolm groaned, and muttered something. She paused, listening.

"Sarah," he whispered.

She leant over him, and looked at him intently.

"Sarah," he whispered again, "should make...new ideas for your book."

Anderson raised one eyebrow, and looked at Sarah questioningly. "What's up with him?"

Sarah glanced at him. "I think he's dreaming. Or dreaming about a memory."

"A memory of what?"

Malcolm's head snapped sideways and then back to the centre. "This is gonna be bad," he whispered, and then jerked, as if receiving a shock.

"Definitely a memory," she said, rubbing the cloth over his forehead.

"Of what?"

"The last time we were on Isla Sorna. We were attacked by a pair of Tyrannosaurs while in our field trailer."

Anderson felt his eyes widen in surprise. "That must have been fun," he said, smirking a little.

Sarah gave him a look, and then turned back to Ian. He was sweating profusely, his skin was now almost completely lacking colour.

"Shouldn't the antibiotics be helping him?" he asked.

"Yes," said Sarah, coming over to him, "but they aren't. He's deteriorating, fast."

"Why?"

"I don't know, perhaps we injected them too late. Or maybe it's just not working. Or maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

She looked at him. "Maybe it's something else."

There was a trickling and splashing sound from one of the corners of the shed. They looked up, and saw Guiterrez upturning his water bottle on his head, washing the dirt from his face and body.

"Careful, don't waste it. You dehydrate easy here," said Sarah.

"I know, but we're heading back towards the lagoon, I can fill up there," he answered.

Anderson looked at Edgar, who sat quite still in the corner staring ahead, looking bored and sullen. He hadn't spoken a word to them since the night before, and nobody felt much like speaking to him either, since he showed no compassion for Rodriguez whatsoever. He hadn't even volunteered to look for the body.

Anderson turned away from them, and brought out his radio; it was time to check in with Tim and Wu. He twisted the dial on the side, and the power light flicked on, accompanied by a hiss of static.

"Tim?" he said, holding down the talk button.

There was a crackle, followed by. "Yeah, I'm here."

During the night Tim and Wu had managed to construct a roof over themselves in the tree by looping the branches and leaves above them together. They had only just avoided the worst of hypothermia. It was a good thing that the storm had only lasted around three hours.

"We'll be setting out to the lagoon at sunrise, which will be in around twenty minutes by the looks of it," said Anderson, looking around at the rest of the group, who all nodded, except for Sarah.

"That's fine," said Tim, "We've been on the lookout for any other dinosaurs in the area. We haven't seen anything so far. I think the Metriacanthosaurus has moved on, or maybe it doesn't hang around here at this time of day."

"Why would that be?" asked Anderson. It could have been his mind playing tricks on him, but he thought he had caught a slight edge to way Tim had said the last sentence.

"Well," said Tim, "that could mean that during the daytime this is something else's territory. What that might be I have no idea, but I'd rather get out of here sooner rather than later."

"So you're saying that something worse might live here in the day?"

"Not necessarily. It doesn't have to be larger or worse to cause the Metria to vacate the area. All animals respect each other's boundaries, smaller or larger."

"Still," said Anderson, "as you said, it'd be better to get out of here sooner rather than later."

"Agreed."

They agreed to schedule the next radio check-in an hour later, and then they turned the radios off. They would go back to the lagoon at sunrise, and head north to where the jungle river started. Then they would wait until the check-in. Meanwhile Tim and Wu would have to head north, towards the eastern garage. By Tim's estimates they should reach the control room at around the same time that he reached the garage.

"We can't leave him here," said Sarah. She was looking down at Malcolm, gently tipping some water into his mouth from her bottle.

"We have to, Sarah," said Guiterrez. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Tim and Wu will pick him up."

"I'm not leaving him," she said strongly. Anderson saw immediately there would be no arguing with her. She was going to stay.

Guiterrez was nodding too. "If you want to stay, then stay. Malcolm needs medical attention anyway."

Anderson walked towards the front of the shed, and stood at the gate, looking out at the field. The Microceratops were still scampering around, but their eyes were no longer reflecting the light. The sky was now bright pink and orange, and the jungle now looked its usual green self. The trail of blood and footprints was clearly recognizable from his position, and he felt his stomach twinge again at the thought of Rodriguez. They needed to get moving. It was time to go.

Anderson sat down heavily on the beach of the lagoon, scattering an arc of sand down the shore. The wind lapped against his face as he watched the fiery golden orb of the sun slowly climb over the horizon, casting the clouds into silvery shadows against the brightly coloured sky. The waves of the lagoon lapped gently up the beach, the crystal clear water rippling and dancing. On the opposite shore the dinosaurs were emerging from the jungle, coming down for their morning drink. Even on their shore there was a pair of Gallimimus, dipping their long slender necks alternately. A pair of Pterosaurs swooped overhead suddenly, and squawked deafeningly, swooping down over the lagoon, gliding along. Anderson watched as they glided towards the surface, and dipped their beaks into the water, drinking as they continued to fly along. He looked at them with hatred; if it wasn't for them they'd be back home already with the cure and nobody would be any the wiser.

Edgar watched from behind him, inspecting them with a look of surprise and awe on his face.

"They're beautiful," he said quietly.

"So is a Tyrannosaurus," said Anderson, turning just in time to see the spasm of anger cross Edgar's face.

Guiterrez came up from the water line of the lagoon, screwing the top onto his water bottle, also glancing at the Pterosaurs with an ugly look on his face.

"I hate those things," he grated.

Anderson nodded. "We need to be careful from now on. We stick together, no detours, no unnecessary stops."

Guiterrez and Edgar nodded together. "It's a new day," said Guiterrez, "We can start over. A clean slate."