Fred Jefferson was never quite sure what had happened next. He didn't blink or move a muscle when the dinosaur revealed itself out of the bushes. Nor had he even so much turned his head when the bitch ran off screaming into the woods. His boss turning chicken and leaving him out to dry was unexpected, but not enough to make him lose concentration. He kept his weapon trained on the beast, waiting until the right moment. He was watching the animal intently, waiting to see what it would do. He stepped off to the side, eyes never leaving the beast.
It turned its head, stared right at him. Jefferson stared right back, his mouth drawn into a hard line. There was a long pause, the two of them sizing each other up. The dinosaur's breath was foul and rank, of carrion and dead flesh. It took a step forward, and from the side, he could see its bulk in a way he hadn't noticed before. Jefferson slowly undid the latch on his gun, reloading it for another shot. But as he did so, the animal lifted its head, jaw opened wide. It roared, not ear-splittingly loud… just a raw deep growl that echoed around the glade. It traveled through the forest, the call of one hunter to another. A challenge…
Jefferson realized then why it had made no move towards the carcass. Something trapped in a barn all its life. It doesn't want to be fed; it wants to hunt. Realizing this, he stepped back some more, careful not to turn his back. His hunch was proven right in a second, as it stepped over the carcass, its head going back in the direction that James had run. Sniffing the air, it took another step, and Jefferson took a rare breath. As the huge animal entered the foliage, he could see its color changing, matching the surroundings almost like a Chameleon. It moved so stealthily, for something that size…
And almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Right after James he figured, damn fool made himself a target by running. If that animal chased him down it was his own bloody fault. He waited a minute or two, just to see if the animal would come back. It was only after hearing the snaps and crackling of the branches did he allow himself to lower his gun. Now he could finally focus on other things…important things such as how to get the hell back to the camp. He had the satellite phone on him, but needed a bigger clearing then this to get a good signal. He turned around, taking the phone out and checking the dial. Yes, definitely needed a larger opening here.
He wouldn't relax, not until he'd gotten into a building back in the village and locked the door behind him. The carcass on the jungle floor had been subtle proof of that; he was not alone in this jungle. But whatever had killed it had probably been scared away by the other dinosaur. A top predator like that…could sense other predators a mile away. He shook his head, grinning very faintly as he made his way through the brush. James could go back the hard way, even with his thousand-dollar gadget. He'd been probably the only one paying attention on their way here, mentally recording each twist and turn as they had originally pursued the beast.
To hell with that, he knew what he was going to tell them when he made that call. They needed more men; three wasn't going to be enough to stop that thing. It was just an animal but also…. Something more then that. The product of sixty-five million years of pent up rage and aggravation. It had already been demonstrated that their arsenal was woefully ill equipped for it, as demonstrated how their bold 'hunting party' had already been split apart at the first sign of a confrontation. Probably a number around 5 or 10 people was more likely of an approximation in his opinion. He just needed to make that call though; he didn't think he was that far.
It seemed like it was, but Jefferson knew that was because of how winding the path here had been. He got a sense of their general direction, and if he could just follow that… He would be there in no time he was sure. Why already he was reading on familiar ground, that he'd covered on the way. He took out the phone, ducking under a tree branch as he did so. Just making sure it had enough battery; he clicked it on, hearing the static and crackle. Yes, because there wasn't enough reception here, the foliage was too damn thick. Looking up again, he was unable to duck as a branch whipped across his face.
Damn thing stung like hell, but barely broke skin. Sure his cheek was bleeding a bit but… Other then that he was fine. He shook his head, trying to wipe some of the blood off with his free hand. He wiped it down on his pants, not really paying any attention at all. That was because he could already see the light ahead of him. He was surprised that he'd apparently gotten through so soon. Yes, he was making brisk progress, much swifter then usual. Sure the foliage was thinning out a bit, it just meant that he was closer then he'd expected. Because he'd just taken the direct route instead of winding around like they had originally done.
He held his rifle up, cautiously keeping watch for anything unexpected. You never know when something could just appear at any second… But there was no noise at all from around him, the jungle was particularly silent, noticeably so in fact. Not a single chirp of birdsong or even so much as a cricket. He shook his head, trying to focus right now. He broke through the bushes, squinting a little as the sunlight shone brightly in his face. He stood stock-still, taking stock of his situation and where he was exactly. It wasn't exactly the same place, he realized immediately. For one thing, the hill leading up to the barn was directly to his right.
There was sort of a low fence, ringing the area he'd come out of. Also, as he made his way further out, he had to walk around some waist high stones. Tombstones. He was walking in a graveyard, where all bones of the past inhabitants were to rest in peace forever. He felt a strange feeling, not quite a shiver, but rather strangely cold. He could make the call here of course, but it didn't seem quite right. Besides, he could see the clouds starting to move in, he needed some sort of shelter if he was to make any sort of call. He would have to do it quick, before he got really drenched. Rossiter had been too damn cheap to get them waterproofed gear…
He looked around, stepping over the gate as he did so. Just looking for any solid building. There were a few tents to the south of him, but he didn't really want to take that chance. Who knew how many drops it took to short the phone? He certainly didn't want to be stuck out here without any means of communication or transportation. There were a few other buildings in the far distance, but none of them seemed all that secure. They had too many windows, no way of adequately checking all of the entrances or exits. He needed someplace he could make the call, and sit tight until reinforcements arrived.
A large building somewhere around the center of the village caught his eye. High windows, large, imposing frame… he'd noticed it while organizing the evacuation of the village earlier. It seemed like the idea place in which to make the call. He felt a tinge of rain on his shoulder, and the musty scent if the oncoming storm. He gripped his rifle in both hands, and started into a half run, his sweat streaming down his cheeks with his effort. His feet pounded the pavement, as he rain started behind him. There was no time to go around to the front; the back door to the bar was more accessible. He could see it easily now, impossible to miss really. There was a large clump of trees right behind the building, a unique feature in the village to be quite honest.
As he drew nearer, the first thing he noticed was that godawful smell. People just threw their trash right behind the bar? There was really no time to stop and see where it was coming from; the rain was too close for that. But it did really smell likes something had died here. No time for that, he thought…. as he quickly tried the doorknob. Open, thank god, he thought blankly as he stumbled inside. Just as it really began to come down out there. He stepped back a bit, and realized he was in pitch darkness. No way to see a damn thing in here, he realized after a second or two. That was all right, he just needed to stay near the door anyhow. Just make one simple call- two seconds really.
There was an overturned chair near the door, Jefferson leaned his rifle against the wall and used the chair to prop the door up. There, that would ensure enough light at least. He turned on the phone, his grin widening just a bit as the crackle and static slowly faded away. A green light near the top indicated that it was now ready to use, and thankfully, he knew the number by heart. He already knew what to say, a horrible, horrible accident yes. He felt the smooth wood of the bar as he leaned over, waiting for the tone to indicate that it was ready to talk. Causalities…two at least, maybe more. They had no chance really, we were underprepared.
All dead, no survivors. Yes, I checked. He turned his head, while waiting for the satphone to run down all its checks, and his eyes immediately caught the glisten of bottles. We'll toast them, James and the Bitch. We'll toast their memories. Even if they come back, we'll toast their memories. All dead. No survivors. We'll make sure of that, Jefferson alone gets the bonus. He grabbed a bottle with his free hand, popped the lid off. Slammed it down on the bar, and started searching for a shot glass. He was a bit caught up; he almost missed it when the phone began ringing. Right off, the echo a bit louder then he would've liked in this gloom. It caught in distant corners… bounced back over table edges. Slightly unnerving yes, but nothing to be worried about, not at the present moment at least. He turned around, trying to see the signal better in the gloom.
Something brushed by his leg, and instinctively, Jefferson kicked out at it. He heard a small thud to his right that made him pause for a moment before shaking his head. He must be very tired if he was starting to hear noises as well. He shook his head, and pressed the button to respond. The fact that it was ringing just meant he had made a connection; it might take up to a minute or so for a human to pick up the line. He paced around impatiently, looking out the door at the rain. It sure was coming down in buckets…. Or so he thought idly while waiting for someone to come pick up the phone. He noticed that the rain had caused a bit of the trash heap to slide forward, and the smell was even stronger.
There was a chirping noise, like some birds in a tree. Strange, you'd think they would avoid a downpour like this. Well that was what conventional wisdom would seem to suggest right? He was about to turn away, when he caught a glimpse of something coming out of the nearby trees. Like little lizards, about knee height-Clearly bipedal, moving in little hops as they climbed on top of the trash pile. There were about five or six of them in total, hopping and chirping as they moved. Jefferson frowned, trying to recall the briefing, had it said anything about this? They were digging in the heap now, trying to get something underneath.
Something about them rubbed Jefferson the wrong way, and he took a step back. Whatever these were, they hadn't noticed him yet, although he didn't think he recognized them from any of the local fauna. He had his hand on the door, and was ready to close it. At least he was halfway to closing it when he felt a small nip on his leg. The one part where he'd lifted the pant leg in order to step over the gate and forgotten to pat back down… He looked down to his side. In the gloom he could see them, their eyes glistening in the darkness. About three of them, and one was standing on the chair he'd used to prop the door open. Same kind of lizard as outside, he wondered vaguely how they'd managed to get in without him noticing…unless they already had been.
Gritting his teeth with rage, he pulled the chair back, so that it fell out under the bar. The animal fell with an unearthly shriek, onto its three companions. "Serves you right," Jefferson muttered under his breath. He put the phone up to his ear as he closed the door. There was increased chirping outdoors, probably agitated by their friend's predicament. Well let them chirp, he thought, he had a call to make. He leaned back down on the bar, looking down. Somehow when he'd closed the door, he'd accidently disconnected the call. He started to dial again; he knew this number pretty much by heart now. He put the phone on the bar as he leaned down to go bring his rifle up. There was a silent thump above him as he turned back carrying the gun in his other hand.
The lizard-thing was on the bar top as he got back up. It lunged forward, jaws snapping at his face. Only his quick reaction kept that thing from his face, as his hands grabbed its neck. The phone clattered to the bar surface, and he could hear the dial tone as the call started connecting. He half turned, using all his momentum to throw the lizard into the wall of bottles behind him. He heard clinking and breaking of glass as the animal squealed in pain. "That does it!" He shouted, his triumph turning into a howl, as he hopped again in pain. Another nip or two on his exposed ankle sent him stumbling forward. He tripped over the fallen chair, his arms scrambling for purchase on something, anything.
He grasped the door handle to stop himself, just in time apparently. The handle turned under his sudden weight, but he didn't let go as he propped himself up. The chirps continued behind him, he could see their eyes following them. The gun was over their on the bar, he thought he could just about reach it now. They were getting closer, and he stepped forward to try to scare them away. But he never let go of that handle, or to be more accurate he had forgotten too. The extra impetus was enough however, the door opened behind him. Jefferson turned his head as he realized what he'd done. He tried to close it, but it was one second too late.
The other five lizards outside rushed in so fast he barely had a moment to process it. The speed caused him to stumble back instinctively, right onto the fallen chair. He steadied himself on the edge of the bar, leaning and taking a few ragged breaths. He made a grab for the phone, a light on the side telling him he finally had a person on the other end. Just as he was about to respond, he felt a pressure on the back of his legs. They were climbing him, Jefferson realized in horror. There were one or two on him, and he could feel nips on the back of his leg. He set the phone down hauling himself to the top of the bar where he could get away.
However, he miscalculated how much force he needed to apply. No sooner had he rolled onto the bar, did he abruptly fall over the other end. The phone, the bottle and the rifle clattered to the floor pushed by his weight. Groaning, he tried to get up, it felt like he'd hit his knee on a barstool, it was strangely numb. And he was tired…so tired all of a sudden. He saw in the dim light the top of the bar. All of the lizards were on top now, he couldn't figure out how. Before he could say anything or get up, they were on him. Biting and scratching his arms, his face, and his legs. He scrambled up, grabbing a chair for balance. He could hear the person on the other end of the phone asking who was there, who was there? Grabbing the phone from the chair seat, he started to answer.
"Listen," he said slowly, limping away towards the tables. Maybe he could get onto one, kick away the other chairs. They wouldn't be able to follow him there. He felt his eyes drooping; he just needed a rest was all. He was too overworked, and too tired from all the excitement of today. He made his way through the semi-darkness, hearing the chirps following him. The other end of the phone was asking for his identification number, did he have his identification number ready? "Yes, we have your number all day," he slurred, his head throbbing angrily like there was an animal that wanted to get out. "We have your number all day." He could see the front doo ahead of him, not that far off actually.
He could make it; he knew he could make it. He extended his hand out; it seemed so near and yet so far away. However, he failed to see that there was still a chair between him and his goal. He fell hard, smashing right into the chair. Groaning, he looked up from the splintered chair, seeing the phone on the floor. He started to get up, grabbing the phone again. However, he felt a weight on his back, coupled with several more brief stabs of pain. The heaviness returned, even more this time. He brought the phone in again, trying to say something, anything. But he slurred his speech as he did so. The door was so tantalizingly close, couldn't be more then five feet away really. Jefferson staggered on his knees now, trying to make progress, even as the lizards clung fiercely to his back.
He got a few feet before falling down again; damn those things were heavy. All he wanted in the world was to go outside, and rest. Somewhere nice and soft, away from those creatures. "This is Fred Jefferson calling in…." He was that close, his hand curled around the doorknob, twisting and tugging at it. One was at his shoulder now, nibbling a bit at its ear. He chuckled, grinning at the confusion over the phone. It tickled, he though vaguely. "I have found the Martians and they are us…" He pulled it open, the door falling loosely to the side. He fell down halfway onto the loamy earth, feeling the rain touching down on his back and head.
The phone was blaring beside him. "Who the hell is this? Identify yourself!" But Jefferson didn't care; he was just going to take a quick nap that was all. Then he would get up, get the hell out of here. His cheek kissing the dirt floor, he dragged the phone in closer. He could feel the rain on his back, the camouflage already having been torn in several places. A lizard hopped off his back, he could vaguely see its head craning down. Almost curious he thought, very, very curious. He cleared his throat, lifting his head dreamily off of the ground. He tried to shoo the lizard out of the way, but it just hopped to the side. Like it didn't care.
Holding the phone close up to his mouth, he gasped. "This is Fred Jefferson signing out, hold my calls-" He gagged suddenly; he couldn't speak any further. The lizard was biting his tongue, tugging at it. He tried to swat at it again and missed. This time, the lizard didn't move. The rest did however, and Jefferson found he couldn't swat all of them. Not for lack of trying though, he managed to get a few, but some got through regardless. He couldn't turn around to get them all because of his tongue, so he had no way of getting the ones that snuck up behind him. If it mattered at all to him by this time, because despite the excruciating pain he was feeling, all he wanted to do was go to sleep.
His eyes drooped down, as he slipped into unconsciousness. So he didn't even feel it as the compys gently began to nibble on his neck.