Chapter 51

Wrangler

"We haven't heard from them in an age," Malcolm said, stumbling over a vine. Up ahead the light was building; they were once again coming to some sort of clearing. They were dotted all over the place in this part of the jungle, some sort of artificial, small scale deforestation. It was confusing; it gave the impression of coming out into some sort of wide open space, and then there was just more jungle.

"We can't use the radio," Sarah said, pulling him along, sweat running down her face. "We don't know what's around here at this part of the island. And I don't want to alert anything's attention. Or anyone."

The incident with Dodgson was still fresh in their minds; and they hadn't waited around to see what had happened to him. They had run for it after they had put him down; well, running was a relative term in the jungle. And Malcolm's injury was getting worse with all of the exertion that he was being put through.

By now he could barely walk, and it was getting harder by the second to move anywhere, and his leg was beginning to drag along the ground behind him. Sarah was starting to worry that he's lose his leg.

But if they could get back quick enough then they could stop that. They just had to figure out where they were.

As far as she could tell they were less than two miles from the visitor area. As to their exact location, she had no idea. She was far too disorientated to get her bearings; they were out of water, and neither of them had eaten in over a day. Exhausted, and confused, all she could think of now was to keep dragging him forwards, towards the others.

"This place…" Malcolm wheezed for a moment, his head dipping.

Sarah shook him, but he simply mumbled, his body beginning to sag. She stopped with a gasp of exertion, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree to support both of their weight. For a few seconds she gathered her breath, chest heaving in the humid atmosphere.

"Ian," she said. "What's wrong?"

Malcolm whispered something incomprehensible. Sarah closed her eyes, trying to swallow with her dry mouth. Malcolm was still whispering periodically, and after twenty seconds she realized that he was simply repeating the same sentence. With a heave, she leant down, putting her ear near to his mouth. She could feel his weak exhalations tickle her cheek.

"Ian. Are you ok?"

"This place…," he whispered quietly to her.

"What? What about this place?"

"Sarah," he murmured, all emotion devoid from his voice, "This place is death."

Sarah looked at him for a moment, beginning to pull him through a broad leafed frond, and she saw his drooping eyes looking towards the floor, non reactive.

She sighed, and looked up again, and was slightly surprised for a moment, simply staring ahead, her mind trying slowly to make sense of what she saw. She frowned.

Sunlight streamed down through a small gap in the canopy just in front of them, six feet wide. On the other side the jungle began again, just as thick as before. But the gap in the canopy ran on horizontally on her left and right, golden, dying light hitting the ground with ever decreasing intensity. She looked down at the floor, at the ground covered in twigs, and dirt. She looked up at down at the trail; at first thought, it looked very much like a run of the mill game trail, one many that ran throughout the island. It was wide enough for the animals that inhabited the place; it was easily large enough for an animal over ten feet wide to fit through.

But as she turned to follow it west, she began to doubt herself. She edged along tentatively, listening closer at the sounds around her; game trails were prime hunting spots for predators. And it was dusk; Golden hour. They were like seafood platters just waiting to be claimed. Even Malcolm at her side seemed to become more lucid suddenly, more alert. There was a palpable tension surrounding them; she had never felt it elsewhere on the planet. There was something about this place that was more than just a failed experiment. It was as if the natural ambience of the island had been violated, that the spirit of the environment had been tainted by a primeval deity. Through all of the wonders of this island, through all of the mysteries and incredible feats, it was easy to lose sight of a single, unanimously interpreted feeling. This place felt evil.

They edged along the road. Her suspicions nagged at her; this place seemed more like a road to her now. Or at least, it had been a road at some point. It was too straight to be a game trail; game trails followed contours, and moved around territories, zigzagging through forest as they cut through the more easily traversed plant matter. But the road ran for at least quarter of a mile in a straight line before curing off to the right. From here, it was difficult to see properly in the gloom; the foliage and the sky in the distance were blurred into blackness.

Off to their right, a bird squawked; a high pitched, peaceful call. Completely indifferent to the tension which she felt. They could walk around the game trail, and take another hour or so to get to the visitor centre. But by then it would be pitch black, and there was no way she'd go any further once the sun dipped below the sky. Or they could follow the game trail, and risk it.

"A wise man says 'When in doubt, go around'," Malcolm said, edging forwards, pulling at her shoulder, "But in this case, I say that the wise man can kiss my ass."

Sarah tried to smile for a moment, moving forwards with him, slightly crouched in the dying light. They moved forwards quickly, their feet pattering lightly on the ground. In the enclosed space beneath the canopy their footsteps were amplified, the echo coming back to them as a clanking akin to horses trotting along.

"My mother used to get my father to take the rubbish out to the bins every evening, no matter how late it was, whenever he got home from work," Sarah said quietly as they quickly pattered along the mud trails, trying not to snap the twigs which liberally covered the ground. Malcolm eyed her closely as she spoke. "She'd never go out after it started to get dark; she was terrified of darkness. Suppose it's the fear of the unknown that always tried to hold me back from my studies."

She paused for a moment as she saw Malcolm glance at her, his sweaty, pale face slightly amused as they continued moving along the game trail.

"What?" she said, blowing a tendril of hair from in front of her face.

"You're singing in the dark, so I guess it runs in the family," Malcolm said plaintively.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Nothing. But the light is closer."

Sarah looked in front of them, breathing heavily. "What light? The sun's going down."

"No," said Malcolm, his leg giving way for a second. "That light."

Rubbing his knee with one hand, and pointing ahead of them with his other, he indicated a fern straight ahead of them. Sarah followed his finger, raising one eyebrow.

Was he high? Had he slipped some morphine without her noticing? He was certainly acting strangely once again. But maybe he was also getting delusional; seeing things.

She didn't say anything, and they continued to move forwards, towards the bend in the road ahead. By her estimates if they followed the road, and there were no obstacles ahead all the way to the control room, they could be there in a little over half an hour.

"Almost there," Malcolm said.

Sarah shook of his comment; she needed to try and keep focused now. They were close, and in their state it would become increasingly easy to lose sight of what they were trying to do.

In the dying light, the golden glow was refracted into a red, globular bubble which played on her left eye. The sun must be getting near to the horizon now; the clouds themselves were beginning to develop shadows, and the blue haze of the sky was now adorned by a pink finish. As they moved forwards the red glow of the light split into two red blobs of hazy light, moving slowly away from each other as they walked. Ian continued to murmur at her side, but she simply ignored him, breathing heavily in the musty heat as she tried desperately to keep them moving, passing momentarily through a thick puddle.

The light was playing tricks on her now. The blobs were constricting; the faster she moved, the faster they shrank, becoming sharper. She blinked, and then paused for a second to rub her eyes, shaking her head. It must be her tired mind fooling her.

"I trust I'm not going crazy then," Malcolm said, looking in the direction of the blobs. Sarah looked again, directly at them now, and then they constricted in size rapidly, their hazy characteristics disappearing rapidly. Sarah frowned as she saw two finite, artificial lights lying further up the road, distorted slightly behind a large frond which stuck out several feet into the road.

Malcolm and Harding looked at each other for a moment, and then moved off, moving faster than ever. Ian gritted his teeth against the pain beside her, but they kept going. She kept her arms ready, muscles tense, in case she had to catch him if he fell. But Malcolm seemed suddenly determined as they ran up towards the frond.

And then the ground in front of her right foot was gone. She pedaled in thin air, arms flailing, and slid forwards spectacularly in the mud. With a splash her foot made contact with ground half a meter down, sinking into deep, wet mud. With a scream of surprise she slammed to the ground, her right foot jammed in place by the suction.

Sarah paused for a moment, rubbing her forehead, and groaning in discomfort as she felt the sensation of rotting vegetation cover her clothing.

Malcolm stood over her, his eyes shielded from view by the low light. "Are you alright?" he said, his voice slightly slurred.

"I'm fine," she said, pushing herself up with her hands.

"I'd offer to help you," Malcolm said, moving off ahead, ambling heavily, "But you'd just pull me over."

Sarah forced herself to her feet, and made to free her foot from the mud, and paused.

"Fuck," she said.

She looked down at her foot, imbedded deeply into a recession in the mud, three feet long. The recession was elliptical in shape at the base, and tapered to three long, claw like appendage shapes at one end. She had seen it before.

It was a Tyrannosaur footprint.

"Shit, shit," she whispered.

If this was Tyrannosaur territory, then they were in trouble. She hoped that they weren't around. She looked up to tell Ian to be quieter, but she saw that he had already moved off quite a distance, and was standing at the frond, peering at the other side.

She mouthed him to be quiet frantically as he called her over, and she ran through the mud, her feet splashing recklessly, and sending arcing sprays of plant matter in every direction. Tyrannosaur footprints followed a parallel path to her own, one for every fen of her steps.

She slid up to him, and staring into his glazed eyes, their chests heaving. For a moment neither of them spoke, and Sarah simply motioned towards one of the footsteps beside them. Malcolm glanced over, and paused for less than a second, before simply nodding at the other side of the frond.

"If this is a mirage, then I'm taking a head dive at the nearest rock," he wheezed.

"What?" Sarah said, and peered over his hand, which held the large lead out of the way.

She gasped.

The two red lights glowed strongly in front of her from a pair of standard issue taillights, attached to a top of the range all-terrain vehicle. For a moment, she simply stared, dumbstruck. And then she laughed. She laughed harder than she could remember as relief flooded through her, and she flung her arms around Malcolm.

"Easy," he wined, moving his leg gingerly out of the way of her prying arms.

She stepped away from him, and observed the vehicle quickly, her eyes wide. She could feel herself shaking as she looked at the open driver's door, the mud caked wheels and the cracked windows. She couldn't see any major damage. She laughed again, moving towards the rear passenger seat.

She pulled it open as Malcolm ambled towards her, and she motioned for him to get inside. He leant against the doorframe, grunting, and Sarah reached down for his uninjured leg. Steadying him with her hands, he slowly lowered himself down, lying across the backseats, on top of a folded map and some odd looking mechanical parts.

"Think this is Dodgson's?" she said breathlessly as she pushed him inside, making sure that the door would close.

Malcolm nodded, and smiled.

"I think things might be looking up for us," he said.

Instantly, his face fell. The hairs on Sarah's neck stood on end as she looked into his eyes; it took a lot to bother Malcolm. But his eyes told her something was about to happen.

"What is it?"

"Listen," he murmured.

She cocked her head, expecting to hear a snarl, or deep, pounding footsteps. But she heard nothing, but the car's engine. Just crickets, and birds, and the steady hum of the vehicle.

Wait. The engine wasn't on. Sarah looked up, further down the road. Her mouth fell open as she saw a pair of headlights shining at them distantly; it was still far enough away that they didn't fall into the pool of light.

She stood up, smiling and waving her arms.

"Over here!" she shouted.

"Sarah!" Ian called. His voice was urgent.

She froze instantly; Ian was never like that. His calm mannerisms were gone. She hurried over to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"That isn't anybody we want to meet right now," Malcolm said from his lateral position, motioning her down to the ground urgently.

"Of course it is," she whispered harshly, "They said they'd got a vehicle and that they were looking for us."

Ian surged upwards, stifling a yell of pain, and looked into her eyes. "Sarah, trust me. Hide."

"W-what?"

"Hide!"

Sarah didn't move for a moment, and then with a spastic jerk of her arms she flailed around uselessly, looking for something to cover him. With a glance she saw that the lights would be on them in seconds. There was no time to get Malcolm out and into the forest, so all she could do was throw something on top of him.

Ian grabbed the map, unfolding it quickly, and threw it over his torso. Sarah made a face; she could see the shape of his body, and his legs stuck out. It wasn't convincing at all.

She looked around carefully, her hands clutching at her temples, and then she saw a large blanket lying on the floor of the seat. She leant down desperately, and tore it open, and flung it over him.

With a blinding glare, the lights were suddenly cast over her. Sarah made an autonomous noise of panic, and flung herself down onto the ground, and crawled towards the back of the car.

Slime coated her hands and knees as she flew into a ready, crouching position at the back of the Jeep, where the rear tire had been before. But the metal had been ripped away; the remaining fixings bent and out of shape.

Her heart pounding, she peeked out for a moment, catching a glimpse of turning wheels, and the harsh light emanating from the grille. She launched backwards; it was almost on them, and was going to pass any moment. If she was to remain invisible, she would have to pass around the side as it passed them.

As she rolled silently through the mud around the side of the car, she noticed the approaching vehicle had slowed to a crawl, and passed them very slowly. Sarah tried desperately to stifle the sound of her own breathing as she crept very slowly along the side of the car. She looked up, and her eyes narrowed as she saw the wing mirror of the car above her. It showed a relfection of the cabin of the vehicle passing them. The person inside leaned out of the driver's door slightly, eying the interior of the car with a stony face.

It was Edgar.

She felt anger well up inside her as she rolled once more around to the front of the car to remain hidden, and sat down in the mud as she heard the other vehicle accelerate, heading away from them. She waited for almost a minute, until the sound of the engine had fully dissipated. And then she crawled out from the side of the car, and looked around carefully.

She sighed as she saw the clear road, and then looked up at the sky. It was getting darker by the minute. They had to hurry if they were going to get back.

She ran over to the car door, and flung it open, getting inside, and slamming the door behind her. Malcolm burst from under the covers, sitting up with a stifled groan, looking out of the cracked back window.

"Who was it?" he said quietly.

"Edgar," said Sarah as she twisted the ignition key with a flourish, and the car rumbled to life. She simply sat for a moment; the feeling of safety flooded over her. What they had done without this made her more grateful than she thought possible.

"How did you know?" she said as she checked the dials. They had less than a quarter of a tank of fuel, but more than enough for the journey to the control centre.

"What are the odds of them checking this road? This is way off our route," Malcolm said, lying back down and bracing himself against the forwards seats.

"It's possible that they could have."

"This road also leads to the docks," Malcolm said. "And we know who else wants off this place as soon as possible," Malcolm said.

"You knew he'd turn against us?" Sarah said, looking into the wing mirror beside her, expressions ugly at the thought of the two-faced weasel. Then she looked behind her into the back seats, looking at Ian.

Malcolm looked up at her, and smirked. "I never trust scientists."

"Ouch."

She put the car into gear, and they edged off slowly into the fading light.