It was the constant pattering of the rain against the windows that finally woke her up. She had no perception of what time it was, and just lay there on the bed for a long moment. Carter rubbed her eyes, as she sat up on the bed, running her hand down her face as she checked her watch. She hadn't really intended to sleep for a while, only a very quick nap. But as her watch indicated, it seemed that it had been some hours actually. A three hour nap… and yet she still felt tired. How she usually felt during a night shift back at county. It was the middle of the afternoon, as she could see by the light streaming through the window through the blinds.
Groggily she stood up, realizing she still had a patient on the table. Yeah, he would need to be checked up on, make sure the dressings didn't need to be changed. They probably did by now, so she walked over to the closet, scanned the clothes. Since the previous owner of the house wasn't going to need these anytime soon, she could just take anything in here. She eventually settled on a blue jacket, as providing enough material to be used to aid the makeshift tourniquet. As she closed the closet door, she realized that she was also a bit hungry and thirsty as well. She assumed the patient would be as well. Hopefully there was something in the pantry that they could use.
Carter came out of the bedroom, heading straight for the living room. She heard no other noise as she walked, realizing that with the exception of Guitierrez, she was alone in the house. That realization combined with the knowledge that the barman and the kid had left to get supplies before her nap unnerved her. Had something happened to them? The monster that had come out of the barn…was it conceivable that they both had fallen victim to it? Well if that was the case, then she was probably in the safest place right now, since it probably couldn't enter the building, especially since she'd taken the precaution of locking the doors. Well, only one beast, she thought, that was a thought that failed to reassure her in any way, shape or form.
Passing by Marty, she saw that he was still asleep, or appeared to be. Fine, but she checked for his pulse just in case. Okay, he was still alive, breathing normally. But for how much longer? She knew that this man urgently needed medical care, of a sort that she could only treat at its rudimentary levels with her given supplies. But the good thing was that he hadn't died of shock in the past few hours, so that meant the prognosis was probably favorable. She would let the man rest, while she went to see if there was anything to eat. If he needed it, she would probably have to administer some more morphine, just to dull the pain. Because when it started to wear off…. yes it would be very shocking.
Stepping around the table, she got some plates and cups from the kitchen cupboard. There didn't seem to be that much food in the pantry, but it would serve for the next couple of days. She figured that the other houses in the village would probably have more if she went down there. But for now, she didn't want to leave the house, until she was quite certain that Baxter and the Barman weren't coming back. Her jeep was down at the village, if it came to that, she could go down there and bring it up… But without support, she didn't know if she'd be able to carry Marty into the car. Maybe if he was lucid enough, but that was probably hoping for too much right now.
As she stood by the sink eating a leftover piece of fish, she realized she could see the barn from the window. The doors were still splayed open, the footprints in the dirt indicating what had happened earlier. Refusing to be wiped out by the rain, they stood as an impossible testament. Reminding her that she was in effect, trapped in here, by something that should've been extinct sixty-five million years ago. She had no explanation for it, not even now that she was able to think about it rationally. A voice in the back of her head told her she should know the answer, that there had indeed been a precedent. That time…. almost ten years ago. It made it hard to swallow just thinking about it, and she shook her head.
That poor man, she thought…the first person that she failed to save. And she didn't even have photographic documentation… dammit why was she still dwelling on this? It had been a construction accident that was all… Yeah, what sort of construction accident did that? Some questions just didn't have answers readily coming to them anytime soon, and this appeared to be one of those. If there was indeed some valid way to answer that, it was probably lost to the mists of time. Just another incident in Costa Rica… that man probably took the camera so as to limit liabilities anyhow. Yes that was it… she continued eating, watching the rain pour down upon the glass,
It seemed she heard something faintly in the distance. Like birds chirping. What sort of birds came out in the rain? Then she saw them, her surprise causing her to set the dish down a bit harder then necessary. No, that wasn't right. Green figures, possibly two to three feet high, she couldn't see them clearly in this rain. Anyway, they were hopping up and down, as they seemed to come up the hill from the village. She'd seen nothing like them, though they intrigued her. As she watched, they headed to the barn, as if driven by a powerful scent. Half of them went in, and the other half stayed outside. She was reminded of the powerful stench of carrion that they had all smelled after the barn had burst open. What would that attract?
The door window would present a better view, Carter thought suddenly. She turned and pulled the blinds aside on the kitchen door. Yes, the view was a little better from here; she could indeed see things a bit more clearly. The other lizards were coming towards the house, hopping curiously. As she looked down, the reason for their interest became clear, there was a chicken coop right on the side of the house, she could see a bit of it here by the back door. The birds were agitated now, as if they could sense some predator. Surely not those lizards, she thought considering that they were about as high as the chickens. Still, there was something uneasy about them, as her hand curled around the handle.
"Don't do that," the voice sounded sleepy and disjointed, but still very much defined. Enough at least to let go of the door handle, hearing the chirps of the lizards as they drew nearer to the house. She turned around; saw Marty shifting around on the table. Well now that he was awake… It was probably a good idea at this point to see how lucid he was. She went over to his side, carefully checking the dressing. She had wanted to wait until he was awake to change it, even though it would probably make things a bit more difficult. People in pain tended to get upset about that sort of stuff. Still, she was prepared to do whatever it took to help.
"Are you feeling okay?" She said as a matter of course. The important thing was just to keep him talking, so that he didn't fall unconscious. Right now his metabolism was only where it was because of the morphine, and right now she had no idea how long the dosage could really last out here. Could be a couple of minutes, a couple of hours more maybe. She checked his pulse again, holding his wrist for a couple of seconds. Seemed normal, at least she thought so. "Don't do what?" She asked idly as she set his hand back down. The chirps were a bit louder, and she could hear the increased clamor of the fowl. But it seemed to be stifled somehow, that didn't really make sense.
"Of course," Marty was holding his hand up to his head, pressing his forehead down. "Of course…they never noticed because they are beneath notice…" He chuckled as if he found something very funny. "With a high human habitation around, nothing's going to happen right? No sireee." He shook his head and laughed, a low and crooked laugh that sounded off. "Things just stay the way they always been right? At least until something happens." He started coughing, probably because he was trying to talk too soon after waking up. She was trying to check his temperature now that he was awake, mostly nodding politely as he was talking. It didn't make much sense, but she figured he was probably still feeling the effects of the morphine.
"We just need to check your bandages now," She said in that official tone she normally adopted when talking to patients. Back in Chicago this would be classified a trauma and the doctors would probably swarm the man the minute he came off the ambulance. Here…it was only her. She turned to see his leg relieved to see that he hadn't lost that much blood. The bad news was that the tourniquet was soaked through; it needed some more dressings on it. She leaned over and grabbed the blue jacket off of a nearby char. Taking a kitchen knife from a drawer, she began to try to cut the fabric into crude strips. It wasn't going to be perfect she knew, but it would do the job for now.
Marty continued talking, and the more he did, the more Carter was convinced he was still heavily under the influence of the Morphine. "You hear those chirps, the ones outside?" They could both hear them now, a bit higher pitched, and the chickens had suddenly stopped clucking. Odd really, there was no reason for that. "Picture a beach on Cabo Blanco…a lonely beach. An animal lies died and an Americano tourist is injured… a lizard jumps back into the ground… " This wasn't making that much sense. At least not until he said something else, that made her freeze entirely. "Or maybe there's a rash of infant deaths…. A sudden spike… nobody wants to say anything…" That sounded eerily familiar to Carter, even as she ripped off the first strip of the jacket.
She had a feeling that he was saying things he wouldn't normally divulge under the drug. In fact, she realized exactly what he was talking about… Something that a man outside of the country shouldn't know about. There had been a rash of infant deaths in Bahia' Anasco nearly ten years ago, right around the time a lone helicopter had flown out of the blue over the ocean. But the government had hushed it up, and the locals had either gone along, or whispered in dark corners about the 'hupia'. But that didn't make sense… She shook her head, wrapping the second strip around the tourniquet and pulling tightly. Not enough, it would need more bandages most likely.
"Something was introduced…" He swallowed shaking his head. "Something utterly alien and yet once entirely common place. The transition period was rough… a new environment, those who didn't quickly learn how to adapt must've been the first to fall…But those who did…discovered that the jungle…" It seemed to be gibberish to her, the ranting of a man who was still severely traumatized by an accident. She wished she had some painkillers to give him, or something at least to help him stay lucid. But with debilitating pain like this was it better that he not be aware of it for the time being? That was a difficult question to answer, and a bit out of her scope.
"Does this have anything to do with those lizards out there?" She asked, her mind starting to put the pieces together. Even as she tore off another strip of the jacket, she was starting to realize that maybe the picture was connected… the things this man was saying made sense, for some strange reason. "They didn't come from…around here did they?" There was another unsettling thing, how exactly 'introduced' were they? She hadn't heard of anything like that it seemed that someone would've reported them earlier. But the jungle was dense, and even the locals preferred to stay out of its depths. Enough stories about people getting… lost were sufficient deterrent. Turning, she readied the second strip, suddenly realizing that was the first time she'd mentioned what was outside to him.
Marty Guitierrez lifted his head, raising himself on one knee. Careful not to twist the leg, he faced her and they stared for a long moment. "What the hell did you just say?" His voice was level, even though she could clearly see by the way his eyes dilated that he was still under the influence of the morphine. "I was saying those things because the chirps reminded me of…" He shook his head, as if disbelieving. "You mean to tell me…" They both stopped because they could hear the chirps again. Carter backed away, looking carefully outside the door making sure that she didn't touch the handle. She wished she hadn't, once she saw the lizards standing in what had formerly been the chicken coop.
It was a scene straight out of nightmare. The chickens were so badly mauled they were unrecognizable at this point. The green lizards were still feeding, their mouths stained with blood. "My god…what the hell is that thing?" She said, looking back at him. She took off her glasses, just to make sure she was seeing it right. The image wouldn't go away, it was sort of a bad horror film. The dots were connecting, everything Marty had said. Slowly she turned to face him, suddenly realizing. Her mouth was drawn into a thin line, part of her wanting to shout, and the other part telling her that the man knew more then he was letting on…much more. She stepped back, instinct telling her to keep her voice level. "If you know what the hell these things are… Like hell you do." It wasn't often that she was upset, but right now was one of these times.
"A long story," Marty sighed with a dismissive wave. "It started on an island, a three hour tour, three days actually." He laughed, the morphine causing his voice to crack a bit as he did so. "But it boils down to this. " He tried to lift his arm again, and Carter was right there to help keep him steady so that he didn't fall. But she didn't let him down easy, even as he continued talking. "Those things outside, what did they look like?" He seemed sober, though she knew the drug must still be affecting him very much at this point. "Short, greenish about knee height?" The description was uncannily accurate, and she felt a chill shiver down her spine.
"That's exactly right." But that wasn't enough, just confirming that he knew about those creatures. "But that's not right is it?" The animal she saw coming out of the barn… and the hellish lizards in the chicken coop. There had to be some sort of explanation, and she felt herself searching for answers. Actually he'd given some of it away, and she remembered what they'd said about an offshore resort some ten years ago. An accident there…"An island…" she repeated. "Does a raptor bite and scratch his prey?" the words coming from the past and she could see by his eyes that he was utterly surprised. He hadn't expected THAT at the very least. She was fairly surprised herself.
"How'd…it was supposed to be airtight." He said, and she could tell by his pulse rate that he was getting excitable. Not a good thing. "The animals just melted into the jungle, not a problem for anybody. Nobody says anything, extinction is your only option." She saw another syringe in the bag, right near the top, still holding the man in her arms; she reached out and grabbed it. Ripping the plunger cover off with her teeth prepped his arm. "But if they're coming out now, it has to be because of something rupturing the system. Something destabilizing the balance. It would've been enough, it would've been more then enough." Nothing he said was making that much sense, but together it was. And that was very unnerving.
"So what the hell are those things?" she said, as she injected the dose of Morphine into his arm. Not too much, just enough to dull the pain and slow his heart rate again for now. As Marty went limp, she felt her face pressed to the back of his head, feeling his wet hair upon her lips briefly. She wanted to know, if only to answer that one thing that had eluded her until now. But he was going under again, and might not be this lucid again. Hell, he was barely lucid to begin with, but this was as much as he was going to get without going into shock. "It's all right", she said as she knew the morphine was having its effect. "Don't fight it."
Marty sighed, his head falling back. "Dinosaurs. They were cloning Dinosaurs." There was a long pause as his eyes glazed over with the new influx of the morphine dilated his eyes once more. He smiled, finally relaxed again. "A clever man, Mr. Hammond."
The rain came down against the windows, the glass streaked like tears.
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