The boat was full of all sorts of people. Guards with armour and weapons stood and watched as scientists clad in white lab coats rushed from one place to another and seemingly normal individuals talked in their own groups. However, one person sat alone, silently. This was Owen Grady.
From the speakers dotted around the ship, a rough, American voice shouted. "I want everybody on deck at exactly twelve-hundred hours for briefing." Owen groaned, and slouched in his chair. Everybody returned to their own discussions once the voice had finished while Owen remained still, groggily watching time move around him.
Eventually, people started filtering up to the deck. The groups leaving started getting larger until almost everybody was begining their ascent. Everybody except, of course, Owen Grady, who waited until everybody else had gone before rising from his seat and making his way upstairs himself.
When he emerged the briefing had already begun. A few hundred people stood on deck. In front of them a hardy, tall man marched around. His voice was that from the speakers. Instantly, he noticed Owen arriving.
"And you must be the Owen Grady I've heard so much about. Well, Mr Grady, you're one hundred and thirty seconds late." He somehow spoke in both an angry and joking tone simultaneously. His face revealed no expression, it was as emotionless as his voice.
Owen made sure to keep his poker face on as well while he spoke. "And you must be the psychopath in charge of this expedition. I hope you know what you're doing."
The man giving the briefing still refused to display any emotion. "Mr Grady, I can assure you that every person that enters the island will leave it."
Owen mumbled to himself under his breath. "Yeah, in body bags maybe..."
The stern looking man continued. "As you know, this is a recovery operation. Several dinosaurs are still on the loose on Isla Nublar. The primary objective is to capture these creatures alive if possible. So don't worry, Mr Grady, we'll try not to kill your raptors."
The ex-raptor trainer remembered what had happened to Blue, Echo, Delta and Charlie. The only surviving member of the pack was Blue, and he wasn't even sure if she was still alive. If she was, though, he'd have to find her. What would he do then? If she was to be captured, what would happen to her?
Soon the briefing was over and the sky darkened as night drifted in to replace the day. The moon's silver reflection danced on top of the calm waves of the now black sea. Owen lay in his bed awake. He wondered about Blue. If she was still alive, where would she be? What would a lone raptor do?
After a sleepless night, the boat finally docked in the morning. As Owen filed out of the ship with the flood of people, other men were already setting up camp. Before long, Owen found himself in the monorail heading for the Main Street. With him were several guards. A very young man sat opposite him, staring.
Eventually, the young man broke the silence. "You're Owen Grady, aren't you?"
Owen rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yup... that's me"
The young man's face lit up, eyes wide and grin large. "You trained the raptors here, right? That's so cool, man!" Owen groaned, but the sound was flushed out by the continuous ranting from the overexcited guard. "Did the raptors ever kill anybody? Did they ever bite you? Have you ever riden a raptor?"
He raised his voice so he could be heard by everybody else around him. "Listen, kid, if you, by some miracle, see my raptor before she sees you, just don't aggrivate her and hope she isn't hungry." Everybody went quiet. The young man looked down. Nobody spoke for the rest of the journey.
The Main Street was in ruins. Shattered glass littered the ground and rubble was scattered around randomly. Once again, people were setting up camp. Everybody seemed to be busy other than Owen, who simply stood awkwardly. Eventually, he heard the rough voice again, this time shouting commands. "Quickly scout out the innovation centre. Set up in there as soon as possible. I want a list of everything they made in there. Go!"
People ran off quickly into the Innovation Centre, half to follow orders, half because of fear. Owen started to walk over to the man before a sudden commotion arose from down the street. Another person almost ran into Owen before stopping and, gasping for air, told him "They've already got one! Come on, have a look!"
Owen saw the crowd part way for a van. It stopped and the back opened up to reveal what the fuss was about. Inside lay a sedated raptor. Instantly, Owen identified it as a juvenile but he couldn't quite put his finger on its colouration. It was unlike that of any raptor he had seen before. With a pale face, he spoke to nobody but himself. "That's not one of my raptors..."
The sleeping dinosaur was soon dragged off and Owen made his way towards where it had been taken. Without warning, a fairly small man appeared in front of Owen with a hand out to offer a shake. The stranger had a thin, black beard and untidy hair.
"Charles Trace, marine biologist." He spoke in a formal, sophisticated manner.
Owen barely looked at the person in front of him and rejected the handshake. Instead, he began to walk around the obstacle. "That's great." As Owen moved away from the little man, he was suddenly stopped by Charles once again.
"I understand you used to work here, Mr Grady." He persisted to continue the extremely one sided discussion. Only once Owen nodded to confirm this did he continue. "I was wondering what aquatic organisms they held here and I figured you would be the best man to ask."
Owen thought for a bit before answering. The sudden question took him by surprise. "Oh... well, they had a few in the aquarium. Nothing too big though."
The smaller man looked relieved. He let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "Thank God for that."
Owen continued. "And then there was the mosasaur"
At this, Charles' face dropped into an expression of worry. "A mosasaur you say? There was only one?"
"Just the one."
"Well, at least there's no more than that. Where is it kept?"
Owen pointed to the lagoon at the end of the Main Street. "Right there." Charles looked at the lagoon, then back to Owen before running off towards the water. With that out of the way, the ex-raptor trainer could continue.
He headed down an alley where the raptor was taken and he presumed that it was caged just around the corner based of the growls and chirps he could hear. He turned the corner and was taken back by the scene before him. A second raptor was releasing the caged one. The colouration of the intruder was unmistakable. Owen did a double take, not entirely sure he wasn't seeing a spectre. It was Delta, albeit she was scarred and battered. She heard his footsteps and instantly turned to look at he whom was once her pack leader.
Owen raised his hand and spoke, slowly moving closer to the raptor one foot at a time. "Delta?"
She parted her lips to present the bloodstained, lethal teeth embedded within her mouth and growled from the back of her throat. Owen stopped moving and remained still, holding his hand out in front of him. "Delta, it's me, remember?"
Delta snapped at Owen, but he quickly jumped back out of the way. She then roared and crouched into a jumping position. Just as it seemed she was about to leap, several guards sprinted around the corner and raised their guns at the raptor, crouching themselves to steady their aim. Owen stood between Delta and the guards. The man from the briefing was behind the line of armed men. His voice was still utterly devoid of emotion. "Mr Grady, please step away from the raptor. You aren't safe there."
The younger raptor seemed agitated. The slit pupil of Delta's good eye focused and she turned to stare into the thick growth behind her, then looked back at Owen with an evil grin. The ground shook slightly, causing small grains of rubble to dance on the concrete floor. Owen turned to reply. "Neither of us are safe here..."
The man from the briefing finally showed a small bit of worry in his expression as the ground shook yet another time and what seemed like a distant "boom" echoed through the derelict, hollow buildings.
The wall of the building behind the armed men was anihilated sending dust high into the air and flinging bricks into the distance. The guards turned to look at the cloud of dust, but they could see nothing inside it. Behind them, Owen watched as the two raptors slipped away. Delta gave him a wink- but not a friendly one. A wink accompanied by a mad smile. The sort you sarcastically give to sombody you hate to wish them bad luck. Owen mumbled under his breath as he turned around.
"You cheeky-" He stopped midway through his sentence. Inside the monstrous cloud of dust was a colossal silhouette, just a slight shadow, that towered above the men below it. From deep within the cloud fell before the men a body with a thud. Its face was frozen in an expression of the unspeakable terror that it felt before it died. It was bloody from head to waist, and there was nothing below that.
A single person stepped forth and inspected the corpse. As he came closer, the look on his face distorted into that of disgust. He raised his hand over his nose in an attempt to block the decaying smell.
"Who is it?" The man from the briefing shouted.
The person inspecting the remains turned around, holding back vomit that was building at the bottom of his throat. "I can't tell."
The shadow in the cloud moved again, this time getting larger. It kept growing until, finally, a huge, scaled head poked out of the dust. The person who had stepped forward screamed and stumbled backwards. The tyrannosaurus rex fully emerged from the cloud and leaned down, lowering its head and snapping its jaws around the unfortunate, panicking man. The lifeless legs dangling out of the T-rex's mouth then dissapeared into the dinosaur with another snap of its jaw.
The man from the briefing, who was clearly in charge, shouted his orders. "Fire! Fire! Take it down!" A flurry or darts flew into the rex, causing it to roar, probably not in pain but annoyance. It retreated back into the cloud and several screams were heard from the main street behind the veil. The man in charge turned to Owen, who had remained still the entire time. He gestured to two more people to join him. "Take these men and get back those raptors. Go!" He ushered Owen away into the growth and the other two men followed.
Meanwhile, in the innovation centre, Charles Trace was talking to one of the scientists. He was clearly distressed by something. "They used smalltooth sawfish DNA, you say?"
The scientist nodded. "That's what the documents say, yes. Why?"
Charles' face turned pale. "They've been known to reproduce parthenogenetically; they don't need a mate."
The scientist paused for a moment. "You're saying the mosasaur could be pregnant?"
The marine biologist nodded. "Smalltooth sawfish have litters of up to twenty pups, but whether or not it's inherited that trait or another animal's traits I don't know."
There was another pause before the scientist spoke. "I suppose we could check the genetic build of the mosasaur in more detail and try to find the reproductive traits it inherited. For all we know, if it is pregnant, it may have already given birth..."
Trace muttered. "Then may God have mercy on us all."