A mosquito landed on the soft exposed flesh between two fingers, perching on the edge of cracked mud that had long since dried. She lifted her hand, gazing at the small creature and winced as it leaned forward, pressing its needle siphon into her flesh. She reached forward with her other hand, grasping the bug's wings between her nails she pulled it from her hand and flung it off into the underbrush.
He watched her intently, wondering what could be going through her head. Was she a primitive being? Did she know how to speak? Did she understand concepts? Did she know that she was left behind and is a miracle?
She stood now, turning around and round in the mud. It must be a type of clay, probably high in nutrients and surely used to keep the bugs at bay. While Billy was being eaten alive, he watched the Raptor Girl—a name affectionately given to her by those that first observed her images taken by satellites—cleverly cover her entire naked body with the mud.
Her hands cupped the mud and dragged her palm up her legs, smearing the clay mud over her skin. Straightening, she would use both hands to cover her stomach and chest.
Billy swallowed, watching the way her hand slid over her ample breast—the way the mud smeared over her tanned skin and the pert nipples. He turned away from her, as her hands swept between her legs, sliding up the inside of her thighs. After a few minutes he turned back to her and found that she wasn't alone.
It was magnificent. The raptor stepped into the mud, its claw gleaming in the high-noon light. He would've guessed that it was female, maybe even the same female from the island when he was there some 12 years ago. She stood a little shorter than the raptor girl, her angular head held high, cocked back on the thick neck that lacked the markings which the males had. Her flesh was a mottled gray, deep brown, rustic green with a curdled blood colored ring around her eyes.
The alpha raptor sniffed the woman before hissing, her jaws parting to display the rows of gleaming little daggers. The woman bent down immediately, even in the mud, and lowered her head in a submissive movement. The raptor clicked, tilting its head to the side in quick movements, much like a bird, before it nudged her shoulder.
The woman smiled, mud crinkling on her face around her mouth, and lifted her hand to the raptor. She paused for a moment until the raptor lifted its head to touch her palm. A deep rumbling filled the jungle.
"My God…" Billy whispered, his lips curling into a smile as the raptor purred.
The woman stroked between the raptor's eyes, her hand moving back and forth. Her fingers moved down beneath its jaw. The raptor parted its jaws and the woman, unafraid, lowered her head to be eye to eye with the beast that had evoked so much terror in Billy all those years ago.
Now he was fascinated, absolutely fascinated by the woman's relationship with the raptors and the way that she was able to achieve a connection that the scientists for years couldn't possibly dream of. How could such a thing develop? How is it even possible for such killers to connect with a human being?
He coughed.
The woman dove between ferns, bounding off between trees and off into the distance. The raptor turns to look directly at Billy, hissing just as low as she had been purring. She was aware, deathly aware of exactly where Billy was, how he was and that he'd been watching. There was a sense of knowing in her golden eyes that shook the photographer to his very core.
Turning her head up to the sky, the raptor cocked her neck and let out a raspy call before racing off in the direction that the woman had gone, tail whipping the ferns with loud 'thwaps'.
Lines buzzed across the bottom of the laptop, revealing a faulty connection. Dr. Alan Grant on the other side of the video chat was moving in at about ¾ speed—Billy felt as if he were watching a poorly made stop motion film. The only highlight of the video chat was that the audio seemed unaffected by the lack of connection.
"That isn't possible. Absolutely not possible." Alan's head shook from side to side, Billy seeing his head move to the left, stop, start to turn to the right and then jump to the right.
His fingers thrummed on the metal drop-down table of the trailer, "I know, I know. We didn't think so, but she's alive and well. Living with them. Not just with them, Alan… she's among them. I watched with my own eyes the interaction between her and the alpha raptor of the south island troop. The alpha accepted her and allowed her to give contact—affectionate contact."
"What about the images?"
"I've uploaded them and…" Billy glanced to the bottom right of the screen, reading the bar showing the rate at which the images were being sent, "Just a few more minutes and you'll have them."
Alan lowered his head, stop-motion film again, then sighed audibly. He glanced up at the screen, brushing his fingers through his dark-silver hair, "What did they want you to do with her?"
Billy sat back a bit, straightening. "I was given classified instruction, Alan. I can't tell you."
Silence fell awkwardly between them, the popping and buzzing of the generator powering the trailer providing some comforting white noise.
"But the satellite images were correct—the large predators have died out. The island wasn't capable of supporting so many large predators. Gallimimus have been wiped out, they were the primary food source of the Tyrannosaurs and Spinosaurs-" Billy began and was cut off by Alan.
"Wait… did you say, Spinosaurs?"
Billy laughed lightheartedly and nodded, "Spinosaurs. Plural. There were three apparently. They were the first large predators to die—only about two years after we left did they die off. And then the Tyrannosaurs went, six years after we were on the island. There is only a lone pair of Carnosaurs still alive, but they stick exclusively to the lower east end of the island near the delta."
James Owen closed the mini-fridge, sipping a box of fruit punch. He leaned in front of the laptop, waving, "Hey Alan!" The younger part of the two-man team sat on the other side of the table, looking at Billy. "Did you tell him about our Amazonian princess?"
Alan laughed, "I hear she's quite the raptor girl."
James crushed the juice box, "Mmmhm. A mighty fine, naked raptor girl."
Billy blushed unbeknownst to him, "The few times that we've seen her, she's been nude. I would've expected as much so it's not that big of a deal."
"This conference is a big deal, I've got to get going. Make sure those images send, alright? And take care. The last thing I need it to lose a good friend to that god forsaken island," Alan said with a frown. He sat back in his desk and waved, "Goodbye Billy, and James."
James said goodbye under his breath while he tinkered with some unknown electronic. Billy smiled, "Talk to you later, Alan."
Alan logged out and the window closed on the laptop. Billy sighed, making sure that the loading bar at the bottom right of the screen had filled and blinked 'sent' before shutting the laptop.
"So what do we do with the girl?" James pushed a AA battery into a radio and closed the back of it, flipping it over in his hand to turn it on. He flipped from channel to channel to see if it was working before glancing up at Billy.
Billy shrugged, "They want us to bring her back for testing."
James nodded, "And who is they?"
"InGen," Billy murmured, turning to gaze out the window into the jungle some 400 yards North of their camp.