Chapter 38

Close Confines

"Owch!" grated Edgar, "will you please be more careful?"

Guiterrez looked at him for a moment, and made a smile which was more of a grimace, and then looked back down at the sole of Edgar's boot, his face immediately descending into a snarl. Edgar had a three inch thorn sticking from the bottom of his shoe, and by the howl of pain Edgar has given a few seconds before, Guiterrez guessed it had also penetrated his foot quite a bit. Edgar sat on a large, volcanic looking rock which lay imbedded in the ground, covered in soggy moss and decaying leaves. Guiterrez was crouched beside him in the damp mud, surrounded by a dense layer of ferns and bushes. It was lighter now in the jungle, and although only a tiny proportion of the sunlight reached the ground in jungle this thick, they could at least see what they were doing properly. Somewhere far off, they heard a distant roar which seemed to make the air particles around them vibrate, but they paid no attention.

"Just pull it out, Martin," said Anderson, leaning against the trunk of the nearest tree, looking exasperated and bored, twiddling the strap of his rifle in his fingers, his eyes on the surrounding jungle.

Edgar looked at him fiercely for a moment, but Guiterrez could see in his eyes that he knew there was nothing else they could do with it. Guiterrez took a firm grip of the end of the thorn, and looked at Edgar.

"On three?" asked Edgar.

"Sure," said Guiterrez, and before Edgar had time to do anything else he gave a sharp tug, and pulled the thorn from his foot. The thorn came clean out, and Guiterrez noted that the last few inches of the spine was tainted red. Not that he cared. In fact he looked up eagerly to see Edgar's reaction.

Edgar gave a shout; his teeth bared, and then looked at Guiterrez with a look of shock and anger, tears in his eyes. "I thought I said on three?" he said in indignation.



Guiterrez shrugged. Standing up and tossing the thorn away into the bushes, he thought he heard the slightest of laughs escape Anderson from behind him. "I thought I'd spare you the agony of anticipation," Guiterrez said over his shoulder.

He had found that despite his earlier efforts to refrain from treating Edgar differently, he know didn't care much, and found some sick pleasure out of causing him discomfort. In the back of his mind he put it down the fact that he simply didn't like the man very much. He seemed to emanate an air of sliminess, and came across as untrustworthy, as if he was still hiding something.

He rolled his eyes at Edgar's mutterings, and turned to Anderson. "You'll be fine, we need to get moving. We're on the clock here, and I can't wait to get off this rock. You can stand on it, right?" he said in a purposefully goading voice. "Or do we have to make a stretcher for you?"

"Yeah, I can stand on it," said Edgar sourly, standing up and standing firmly on his injured foot, barely concealing a twitch of pain.

Guiterrez picked his pack up and slung it over his shoulder, and with a quick look around at the surrounding forest, took up his place behind Anderson and continued on through the underbrush.

They had been travelling through the jungle since they had left the lagoon behind almost an hour and a half before, following the jungle river northwards through the island interior. As Tim had told them, they had kept their distance from the flowing water, at a few hundred meters away at all times, fighting their way through the vines and ferns. It had been difficult, and by now they found themselves covered in tiny scratches and bruises, but they agreed that it was better to be slowed down than be eaten. Guiterrez guessed that they had covered around four miles, and that they were only around an hour away from the visitor area. So far they hadn't heard or seen anything either at the river or in the surrounding area. And in this tropical jungle, with the songs of birds and clicking of thousands of insects, it was almost possible to enjoy the lazy atmosphere.



But Guiterrez knew that it wouldn't last. It never did in this place. He trudged along behind Anderson, Edgar following closely behind, limping slightly.

It was now almost midday from what he could tell; he didn't bother to ask anybody or even to look at his watch. The sun was high in the sky, and the golden rays of light that struck the ground occasionally were harsh and scolding. The jungle was stiflingly hot, the coolness of the morning now all but gone. Moisture seemed to coat everything, from the leaves to the air itself, and his entire body was covered in a film of sweat. He could almost feel the heat radiate from his skin, and the space between him and his own clothes felt like a furnace. When his body passed momentarily into sunlight, any unprotected skin seemed to burn and tingle immediately.

It was extremely uncomfortable, but he tried to not let it bother him, for he couldn't afford to have his senses dulled. This proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated, and after only a few seconds he found himself drifting helplessly into a daydream. Through his own vision another, distant, rather unfocused picture overlaid it, and as he concentrated on his mind's eye he watched as his subconscious began feeding him images. He saw himself standing on the roof of a large building, jumping up and down and waving his arms in wide arcs. He saw the helicopters lowering themselves down towards him, the pilot waving to him cheerfully. Maybe, he thought, they'd have a cold drink onboard. Perhaps some ice. He smiled at the thought of something so wonderfully refreshing, and saw himself looking down at the trees as he was lifted away from the island—

Anderson suddenly stopped in front of him. He didn't give any warning; he didn't reach for his weapon, or even any hint of why he didn't continue. He simply stopped, and stood absolutely still.

Guiterrez snapped his head up at the abrupt change of attitude, breaking out of his reverie with a start, momentarily confused. Without thinking he stopped a few steps behind him, staring at the black straps that looped around Anderson's back, not daring to even avert his gaze, suddenly afraid to move. If possible he felt the sweat on his forehead increase in 

thickness, and he felt the slick warm liquid begin to slide down his face.

A few seconds later Edgar simply collided with his back, apparently oblivious. He bounced off of Guiterrez, being considerably leaner, causing him to spout a stream of muttered curses. Guiterrez felt his insides curl in protest, as if by doing so they could make Edgar be quiet. Through his fixed stare he also saw Anderson's back tense at the sounds Edgar was making, and Guiterrez was sure that something was wrong. Edgar began to protest loudly, and Guiterrez clenched his fists tighter to stop himself whirling around and beating Edgar to within an inch of his life. But then Edgar seemed to catch on at the sight of their bodies fixed as rigidly as manikins, and stopped in mid-sentence, lapsing into complete silence.

Within moving his eyes, trying his best not to even blink, Guiterrez slowly tried to build a mental picture of his surroundings. His peripheral vision told him that the jungle seemed to be still apart from leaves casually swaying in the wind, but he couldn't see around the large figure of Anderson in front of him. It was comparatively quiet to how it had been previously in their on the island, but it seemed that the jungle was still waking up, and the occasional bird twittering hadn't ceased. At least, he thought they were birds. And then as he concentrated on his nose he caught it. The slight, yet undeniable smell of decaying flesh was carried on the tiniest of breezes towards him. He felt his stomach churn, and he had the distant urge to be sick crawl along the length of his throat.

Edgar must have smelt it too, because Guiterrez heard a suppressed guttural cough escape him, and he sensed Edgar swaying slightly on the spot.

And then, hardly distinguishable from the clicking and snapping of the insects around them, a tiny sighing sound rose and fell. Guiterrez closed his eyes tightly, and swore silently. Taking a steadying breath, he opened his eyes again, and waited.



Less than a second later it came again, once again barely audible. It was coming from in front of them, slightly off to the left.

And then suddenly Anderson walked forward, as if nothing had happened, his rifle bouncing on his shoulder.

Guiterrez's mouth fell open as he stared in disbelief, completely shocked.

"It's ok," said Anderson, striding away from them.

"What the fuck was that all about?" said Guiterrez in indignation, clattering through the tall bushes towards him, anger building inside him. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah," said Edgar, fighting through a thick growth of vines to join them, panting, "me too."

Guiterrez ignored him, and looked as Anderson turned around and simply pointed in front of him, stepping sideways so that they could see what he was indicating.

Immediately Guiterrez noticed that the jungle ended abruptly for a moment, and then began again just beyond where Anderson was standing. A thin path ran horizontally across their route, approximately five feet across. The ground of this path seemed beaten down; the earth was bright red and stood out against the greenery of the rest of the jungle. Footprints of all different shapes and sizes littered the path, some of them leaving deep gouges several inches deep into the dirt. Unabated by a thick canopy above, the sunlight was free to strike the ground with full force here, creating a bizarre golden glow as the shafts of light struck the ground in a thin strip in the jungle. It made the path look like a glowing road of glory, very attractive in the manner of which it contrasted with the gloom that surrounded them.

"What is it?" said Edgar, walking forwards through the grass, stopping just before the transition from green to red earth, and crouched down, peering at one of the largest footprints, which was over a foot long and was rounded with small, toe-like protuberances towards the top end.

"It's a game trail," said Guiterrez, frowning. This wasn't good news, at all—

"Yes," said Anderson, "but that's not all. Look." He pointed down to the ground to the right of where Edgar was crouched.



Guiterrez followed his finger, and gasped as he caught sight of what had been making the sighing sounds moments before. A second later Edgar gave a yell of surprise and leaped backwards, landing on his backside and scrambling backwards.

Sprawled on the floor in front of them was a small dinosaur, which from what Guiterrez could tell looked herbivorous. Barely three feet long and two feet high, it had a slender build, with a long S-shaped neck, long muscular legs and a sturdy looking tail. But it looked like the least threatening animal he had seen so far on this island. Its tiny chest was rising and falling rapidly, and it gave a pained sighing sound with each exhalation.

"Is it dying?" said Edgar; standing up with a look is barely concealed disgust on his face.

"No, it's injured," said Guiterrez, "look at its leg."

There was a large tear which ran down the rear flanks of the animal, the deep crimson flesh contrasting sharply against the dark brown of the surrounding skin. It began near the bottom of the ribs, and curved in a great rip down the leg, tapering at the ankle bone. Dried blood lay crusted all over the skin and on the ground in great pools, and fresh blood was still seeping out in places.

"How recent is that?" said Anderson, looking around at the jungle. Guiterrez, unnerved by Anderson's sudden apprehension, looked fleetingly into the depths of the trees, but only saw unbroken greenery, and heard only the lazy sounds of the jungle. Satisfied, he crouched down, and took a small step closer to the little dinosaur.

It seemed to sense his approach, the pale glazed eyes flitted fractionally down to where he was positioned, but didn't make any move to inspect him or to move away. Either because it didn't sense him as a threat or it was simply incapable of doing so in this state.

"Recent," he said, "I'd say twenty minutes or so. If it keeps bleeding like this it'll be dead within the hour."

"But what did that? I mean, it was attacked right?"



"Looks like the flesh is ripped, see the skin on the periphery of the wound is flayed and broken. Something attacked this dinosaur, but not with its teeth. This is a slashing wound."

"Claws?" said Anderson.

"Yeah; big ones," said Guiterrez, standing up and taking a step back.

"So why didn't the attacker kill it? I mean, could it still be around?" asked Edgar.

"I'll guarantee you that it is. This is a method of hunting still seen today. Wound the prey and wait for it to die of shock and blood loss, without the risk of being injured."

Anderson looked down at the little dinosaur, and a spasm of pity crossed his face. Guiterrez felt himself sympathize a little with the tiny animal, but he couldn't forget the fact that it was a kill or be killed world.

"We need to leave, now," he said, pointing in the direction that led off of the path, "Get as far away from here as possible."

The other two frowned at him, as if he was being unreasonable.

"Wait a minute," said Edgar, "this is a path in the jungle. We've been fighting our way through these trees for over an hour, and we're not going fast enough. You say we're on the clock, so we can follow this trail and get there faster!"

"It's a game trail," said Anderson, "so it leads to water, and the jungle river up north, which is where we want to go, isn't it?"

Guiterrez gave an exasperated noise of frustration. "Yes, it's a game trail, which is exactly why we have to get away now!"

"Why? I don't understand," said Anderson, clutching at his rifle at Guiterrez's sudden agitation.

"Because a Game trail like this is a prime location to set an ambush!—"

The tiny dinosaur in front of them gave a yelp, and gave a violent shudder, its legs flapping in the air, as if it were trying to stand. They turned to stare at it, and as they did so it gave another yelp, and carried on the sound was the unmistakable air of terror. It shuddered, and rolled over onto its stomach.



An almost identical yelp came from the distance behind them, further up the game trail, slightly louder than the injured animal's call.

And suddenly the jungle emanated a myriad of frightened screams in an explosion of sound and movement, and a great clattering of foliage came from all directions. Guiterrez gave a choked sound as he and Edgar were pulled into a low crouch by Anderson, watching the surrounding trees as they seemed to come alive with movement.

Guiterrez saw Edgar's mouth move, and he lip read him saying 'What the hell?', but he couldn't hear his voice over the deafening sounds of the forest. The little dinosaur in front of them was now trying to stand on dangerously shaking legs, and succeeded only in flopping to the floor a few feet away from them, giving a squeal which drowned out everything else for a moment. Behind them they heard a loud, creaking groan, and then a large thud, and Guiterrez was sure a tree had just been felled. He could just about pick out a thousand feet dashing through the underbrush barely twenty meters from them, coming from all directions.

And then, as abruptly as they had started, the noises ceased. They didn't return to the normal sounds of the clicking of insects and bird calls; every single noise simply stopped dead, propelling them into complete silence.

Guiterrez's hearing was drowned for a moment by the sounds of his own breathing; which was now the loudest thing he could hear. He glanced at Anderson and Edgar, who were both looking around, bewildered.

They soft trickling of the jungle river was the only other sound that he could discern; but otherwise it was deathly silent, and despite the sweltering atmosphere that he found himself in, he shivered.

Hesitantly, he stood up, and peered into the trees, taking in every detail, slowly turning in a wide circle, looking for any sign of movement. But he saw none; even the leaves which had waved in the wind now seemed to be frozen in place.

The little dinosaur in front of them yelped again, the sound pierced Guiterrez like a gunshot, and he snapped his head to look as it managed to regain its feet once more, and began to 

slowly stagger forwards, up the game trail away from them, wobbling precariously from side to side. Guiterrez watched as it took another step, and whimpered.

"What's—"

The call they had heard earlier came again, louder this time, and it conveyed a deep sense of fear. This time the call was accompanied by a rapid crunching sound, like feet treading over foliage. Something was coming their way.

The animal in front of them gave a jerk, and to Guiterrez's great surprise it gave a shriek and sprinted off down the game trail, its limp suddenly lost.

No less than a moment later an almighty roar tore through the jungle towards them, and struck them like a solid wall. Guiterrez felt his heart leap into his throat as a single thump traveled along the game trail, and then another, and another. Guiterrez realized that a much larger animal was now coming towards them. They jungle remained deathly silent, as if every living creature within it was now holding its breath. Now two things were coming.

The little dinosaur that had been in front of them was nowhere to be seen, the game trail ahead of them curved to the left after a hundred feet or so, but now it was empty. They turned in unison to look behind them, and saw another, slightly larger version of the little dinosaur appear from the bushes. It stopped for a moment as it saw them, and cocked its head to the side momentarily.

Another thump ran along the ground towards them, and the dinosaur instantly gave a terrified yelp, and charged down the game trail towards them.

Edgar gave a yell of surprise as Anderson seized his collar and threw him bodily off the trail into the ferns, before jumping after him. Guiterrez felt his eyes widen just as he found himself face to face with the charging animal, and with a great effort he launched himself in the opposite direction that the other two had gone, into a dense cluster of tall ferns.

He crashed down onto the ground, and rolled over just as the dinosaur dashed past, its feet just visible through the leaves, the large claws splayed out momentarily at is made contact with the ground.



Guiterrez was dazed, the stale air was hot closer to the floor, and the world seemed to spiral around him for a moment. He was about to stand up when another roar tore through the air, and a black shape appeared in front of him and thundered down the trail towards them. He looked up, across the game trail at Anderson and Edgar. To his horror he saw Edgar stumbling out onto the trail, blood seeping down one side of his face. The dinosaur soared down the trail, and Guiterrez saw that it was around twelve feet tall, and deep black in coloration. He caught sight of a large claw hanging down from each of the forelimbs.

"Move, dimwit!" Guiterrez shouted at Edgar, who seemed to suddenly come to his senses, and looked around. "Get off the fucking trail!"

Edgar went rigid at the sight of the dinosaur which flew down the path, its teeth bared into a snarl. Edgar looked as stiff as a board, and Guiterrez knew that he had become victim to the same instinct that deer often did. He could be frozen there for almost ten seconds. And then it would be too late.

Without thinking Guiterrez leapt to his feet, and tore out onto the path, and grabbed Edgar by the sleeve, and dragged him back into the foliage.

The landed with a clatter on the floor, and with a roar the dinosaur charged past them, after the smaller animal, causing the floor to rumble.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" shouted Edgar over the noise, rolled off of Guiterrez and stumbled back onto the game trail, looking at the departing dinosaur.

As the sounds of the footsteps faded, Guiterrez stood up and joined Edgar, Anderson emerging a second later, his rifle trained on the dinosaur.

"What is that?" said Anderson.

Guiterrez shook his head and shrugged helplessly. None of them were experts on dinosaurs from what he could tell; all they had to go on were childhood memories. But neither species rang any bells for him.

"The smaller ones were adolescent Gallimimus," said Edgar, wiping the blood away from his face with his hand. "The carnivore was a Baryonyx."



Both Guiterrez and Anderson turned to him, their eyebrows raised. "How do you know that?" they said in unison.

Edgar looked at them for a second until what they had said registered, and then he seemed to think that he had made a grave error, because his face creased into a grimace, as if he wanted to slap himself in the face. He tried to brush it off casually, and shrugged. "I, uh," he said, looking and fixing his stare onto the direction of the departed dinosaur, "I read a lot."

Guiterrez nodded slowly, but there was no doubt that he was lying through his teeth. Whatever the reason was that Edgar knew the dinosaurs here, it to do with what he had been doing here in the first place.

"Why are you bleeding?" he said to change the subject.

"He hit his head on a branch when I pulled him down," said Anderson, apparently uncaring.

There was a screech in the distance, and then the sound of a loud snarl and a violent crunching sound, like a bulldog playing with a chew toy. Guiterrez frowned at the sounds; it seemed the Gallimimus had lost. It gave a shriek of terror, which descended into a guttural gargle, and with a sickening rip, it became silent.

They all stood still, and listened. The jungle seemed to come back to life around them; one bird gave a chirp, then two, and then a frog croaked, and then the whole thing seemed to rumble to life like some giant machine.

If it hadn't been for the fact that they had been listening intently, they wouldn't even have heard the sharp snap of a twig behind them, back up the game trail.

Guiterrez closed his eyes, and shook his head in utter disbelief. Not now, he thought. We've gotten this far, can't we just have a break?

A low growl rose and fell almost silently.

Guiterrez glanced down, and saw Anderson click the safety button of his rifle off. Slowly, they all turned around, and faced the other way.

A second Baryonyx stood over them, ten feet away up the game trail. It's cold, green eyes were fixed on them, swiveling from one to another.

"Oh shit," Edgar whispered.



Immediately the dinosaur roared, and lunged for them, its jaws opened wide. Without blinking, Anderson raised his rifle and squeezed the trigger. There was blast of gunfire, and the Baryonyx gave a howl of rage, and fell backwards. It stumbled sideways for a moment, and shook its head, moaning. Blood seeped from several holes in its lower jaw and shoulder.

"That didn't do it dude," said Edgar.

"Let's get out of here," said Guiterrez, and made to run into the jungle when the first Baryonyx appeared behind them, the Gallimimus hanging from its jaws.

Anderson wheeled around and fired a single bullet into its leg, and waved for Guiterrez and Edgar to run. As Guiterrez sprung into the jungle he heard both dinosaurs give screams of rage, and then the ground began to shake.

Guiterrez was plunged into the darkness of the forest, Edgar in front of him, casting the ferns and branches aside. A moment later Anderson appeared behind him, and they all sprinted forwards.

The Baryonyx roared again behind them, and Guiterrez glanced back to see Anderson firing over his shoulder, the blasts of gunfire ringing loudly in the close confines of the jungle, making his ears ring. A single loud smack told him that one of the bullets had found their mark, coupled with another roar.

Sweat pouring down his face, Guiterrez didn't dare slow down, but kept sprinting forwards, north. Towards the visitor centre.