PREPARATIONS
11 – Embracing the Wild Side
Quiet. Contemplating. Judging. Hoskins' brown eyes slimmed down on Muldoon's scarred features, from where he sat across the helicopter's back seats. "Do you think your girl can really do it? Take that thing down using just her," he laughed, "claws?"
Grey eyes dared the heavy-set man to say another word. That one tempered scowl was enough to at least stop two of his men's snickering. "If I didn't think she could, I wouldn't have let her go out there alone."
Seated inside the airconditioned office room of the yacht was Derek. A headset sat halfway over his ears and a joined microphone two inches from his thinned lips. In front of him was a lavish desk supporting three computer monitors lined up, side by side. The center and right screen displayed the forward and back points of view from Pet's body cams. The third was a map of the island displaying two separate signal pings representing the Spinosaur and Pet. Fretful chocolate brown eyes kept shifting between the map and body cam screens, expecting to see any kind of movement lunge out of the shrubbery. So far, all that was seen was an innocent-looking tropical jungle.
Pet questioned through the headset. "What's the target's position?" Her voice boomed through a speaker off to the side of the right monitor.
Derek studied the map for a second. "It's roughly four miles north-northwest of your position. You're good."
Standing behind him was a small crowd of people consisting of Roland, Terrence, Valerie, Dr. Carlyle, and Paul. It seemed as though everyone was holding their breath in equal anticipation of everything going straight to hell right off the bat. Green ferns and tall trees turned into more sand as a river's current rushed by. The waterline got closer and closer, the hybrid stepping into it.
Derek was confused. Why was she walking in the water? "This is no time for a swim, Pet. Just because that thing is nowhere near your position…"
She hybrid snorted. Roland sighed. "She's using the water to mask the scent of her trail. Just because the target is that far off doesn't mean something else isn't nearby."
"What else is out there that could be a threat to her?"
Pet and Roland simultaneously answered, "Velociraptors."
Valerie's defined eyebrows wrinkled. "Whatever the hell that is."
Terrence cocked a sideways smirk. "It's the non-human half of Veronica, just in full dinosaur form. Highly intelligent…stands about six feet tall and comes equipped with jaws full of sharp teeth capable of ripping flesh off the bone. Oh, and let's not forget the assortment of claws that come with it. Most notably, the sickle-like claws on its feet. It's fast as hell when it runs and is an amazing jumper."
Pet praised. "Damn, Terrence. Look at you having a smart moment!"
Terrence beamed with a satisfied smile. Derek spoke up. "What about those annoying little dino chickens?"
The occupants of the office room couldn't see it, but Pet was grinning to the point of laughing. "You mean…" she picked up a fist-sized rock, just one of many comprising the riverbank, and hurled it into the nearby shrubs at her left. Chirps and trills sounded as five tiny dinosaurs scurried to hide elsewhere. "Those? They're Compsognathus."
Derek pointed at the screen. "Yeah, those little fuckers, right there!"
Dr. Carlyle snickered. "Aw, they look kind of cute. How dangerous can they be?"
Roland remembered what was left of one of his team members, Dieter Stark, after a pack of the same 'cute' dinosaurs found him. "Don't let their size mislead you, Doctor. While one or two might seem harmless, a pack of them can be deadly. I've personally seen for myself what enough of them can do to a grown man. Let's just say there was barely enough of a body to identify by the time I found him."
Paul winced. "That's a delightful mental image."
Dr. Carlyle gulped. Derek shifted nervously in the padded, black leather office chair. He remembered his own encounter with them during Virgil's hunt. "So, like twenty-something of them would be considered deadly…right?"
Roland watched the uneasy, younger man for a moment. "Asking from personal experience, are you?"
"Eh, something like that."
Valerie scoffed. "You're still alive, so it must not have been that bad."
Derek nodded once at the computer monitors. "Only reason they didn't go after me was because she scared them off sneaking up on me."
The office grew quiet for a few minutes, the faint sounds of the Compys heard from their concealment. Besides that, the sounds of birds singing, the wind in the trees, and the relaxing tumbling of the water eased much of the room's tension.
Outside and above deck, helicopters returning to the yacht disrupted the calm. Dr. Carlyle spoke. "Sounds like the others are back."
Valerie rolled her eyes. "I thought Porky Pig and his SWAT team were supposed to remain on standby, flying around the island making themselves useful."
Derek shook his head, sighing. "It'd be better if his heli just crashed and blew up with him and his team inside. Spare us the torment of his bullshit."
Not even two minutes later, the office door opened. Simon entered the room, expression tense and dark eyes saying what words could not. He joined the others behind the desk and carefully observed each screen. "How is she doing?"
Derek leaned back in the chair. "Throwing rocks at the local wildlife."
The answer was not what the billionaire expected. "She's what?"
Pet's voice came through the speaker again. "Relax, Simon. I'm just keeping my new friends on their toes."
Soon, Muldoon and Hoskins came into the office. The rest of the InGen team remained on the patio deck armed and ready should they need to leave at a moment's notice. By now, there was barely any room to stand in the office, but no one wanted to leave.
So far, nearly two and a half hours into the excursion and nothing of interest had happened. At one point, extra chairs from the dining area had been brought into the office for the hybrid's companions to sit, making it that much harder to navigate the room.
Derek remained in front of the monitors, choosing to keep the hybrid updated on the Spinosaur's movements. Since nothing dangerous was going on, he tinkered with the headset's controls. In doing so, he learned that flipping up the mic to its resting position didn't always turn it off. Even with the indicator light shining red, showing it being off, did it sometimes remain on. He was about to address the issue with Simon when he noticed Pet stopping.
This worried the group, everyone looking to the tracking monitor. The Spino was still a fair distance away. Paul questioned. "Veronica? Is everything all right?"
"I can smell it," she replied coughing. "I think I'm coming up on its relief grounds." Several more steps forward and two, four feet tall piles of dung became visible.
Derek was repulsed. "That's gross."
Black backpack straps flashed before the forward body cam. Her clawed hands came into view next, and the harness was removed. Terrence was freaking out. "No, no, no, she can't do that! She needs to keep that thing on!"
Derek facepalmed. "Pet, what are you doing? You're supposed to keep all that stuff on."
The hybrid stated in a much quieter tone, "Relax. It's just for a couple of minutes."
Pet glanced around the area and knelt down. "Target location?"
Silence lingered in the air before Roland's voice replied. "Seven kilometers west. It's closer to the coast than to you."
The harness was positioned over the grounded backpack to allow a visual range of the jungle. "I pray it only stays on that side of the island while I try and find the water truck. But first, camouflage." The mesh coverup was removed and set aside, leaving Pet kneeling in her bathing suit. Handfuls of sticky riverbank mud were scooped up and smeared across her body.
Dr. Carlyle frowned. "I can not begin to tell you how unsanitary that is."
Pet spread some more mud around on her fingertips and covered her face, next. "Let me tell you how unsanitary it'll be when my scent is detected, and I'm found by a hungry predator."
Hoskins wrinkled his nose. If the dung piles were right there, he could only imagine what the mud smelled like around them. "You could've always used some of that hunting spray that smells like dirt."
Muldoon shook his head. "That stuff is just a waste of money. Anyone who uses that rubbish and calls themselves a hunter is an embarrassment."
Hoskins glowered at the scarred man. He just so happened to bag himself a nice eight-point buck last season using the dirt spray. What did the ex-game warden know, anyway? He got his ass kicked by a bunch of lizards.
"Quiet," barked Simon. "I ask we maintain radio silence on this end. Everything we say is just a distraction to Ms. Hammond. Just as we can hear what she hears, she can hear every one of us." An eerie silence filled the air, shy of the river current and a cricket or two chirping echoing through the speaker.
Pet caked her hair in mud as well and wrapped its length into a bun. Once all of her and her bathing suit were covered, she smeared down the harness and backpack. Camouflage. Putrid smelling mud wouldn't be good enough. She needed to blend into her surroundings better. The pack was opened, and a sheathed field knife was found. It was tightly strapped to the outside of her right leg, and the backpack zipped back up.
Derek asked through the earpiece, "Why go incognito mode now? Shouldn't you have done that right after arriving on the island?"
Didn't Simon just ask for radio silence? Go figure, her little shit of a 'brother' would be the one to not listen.
Pet shook her head. "Using what? Sand? Like that's really going to do a whole lot of good. If the Compys were able to pick up my scent, then it's only a matter of time before something else does, too. I'd prefer it not be raptors or a T-Rex. Although, I'd prefer the T-Rex over raptors. All I have to do is not move to avoid a Rex detecting me. Can't say the same for the raptors." The harness was put back on, and the bag slung over a shoulder. Pet wasn't so sure about her journey bringing her inland. "The riverbed will be limited from here, so it's going through the jungle, now."
Derek was back to rigid and upright in the chair, eyes going between all the monitors. "You do what you need to. We've got your back on this end."
Raptor like eyes instantly locked onto any movements around her, whether it be a leaf moving in the wind or a bird flying about. Her steps became a lot more cautious and carefully planned, though not as quiet as she wanted them to be. The extra ten pounds of weight on her back was really limiting her stealth.
The knife was used to cut sprigs of leafy ferns. They were tucked into her hair and in her harness and bathing suit top's straps. Handfuls of dirt, leaves, and moss were also collected and added to her camouflage.
The longer she walked, musky, stale air filtered into her nostrils. She knew that scent and pushed on into a familiar marshland. She stepped through the patches of knee-high grass in her venturing through the swampy terrain. Bugs dared not land on her as they buzzed around her pungent person.
After a forty-minute hike through soft mud, Pet found the water truck. She quietly stepped over the partially submerged crates, cages, and second vehicle in her way to the shelter. Opening the top hatch was nerve-wracking. Its rusty hinges loudly creaked in being opened. The hybrid took off her backpack and dropped it into the truck, her following right behind it. The tanker hatch was left open long enough to allow her to find her battery-operated lamp inside her pack and turn it on. She hung it up where she remembered Eric kept his and secured the hatch shut.
A simultaneous breath of relief came from a majority of those in the office room. Hoskins wasn't the least bit concerned. If anything, he was ready to watch some action. He couldn't remember ever being this bored before. And this was supposed to be a dangerous undertaking?
Derek arched a brow. "That's it? You're just going to hide in the truck for the rest of the day?"
Pet's clawed hands were seen rummaging around the items stored inside. "No, dummy. I'm trying to find a can of oil or something to use to lube the hinges. I'm not really wanting to risk exposing my position because I forgot to bring a can of WD-40."
Derek snickered. "I'm sure we can arrange a fly over supply drop for you."
Pet growled. "This isn't a video game, dumbass."
"Sure looks like it from my end! All I see is wilderness and your hands. It feels like I'm watching a walkthrough of a survival game in first-person mode. It's pretty neat."
Nothing useful was found, Pet dropping her head. Then an idea came to her. Opening the hatch back up had her nearly convulsing on the spot. That thing was obnoxiously loud. She poked her head out and glanced around—all clear.
Back across the makeshift bridge, the hybrid went. She returned to land and worked her claws into the dirt for a handful of mud. It was thrown into the forest underbrush, startling a handful of Compys. Pet grinned. "Here, Compy, Compy, Compy."
Terrence tried to figure out the hybrid's plan. "What are you doing?"
Pet moved towards the tiny animals, mimicking their chirps the best she could. One was brave enough to investigate her. She held out a hand to it, and once it was close enough, she jerked it up by its neck. It squawked loudly and thrashed about in her hand. All that stopped the moment Pet broke its neck.
Dr. Carlyle flinched. "Poor little thing. Did you really need to do that?"
Using a thumb's claw, she cut open the Compy's belly. Given how small the animal was, it wasn't hard to find what fatty parts it had. Pet worked the fat between her fingers and did her best to coat the hatch's hinge in the oily substance. She closed and opened the door again, there being minimal sound coming from it. Had she obtained more fat, she could've thoroughly coated the entire hinge.
Muldoon and Roland were proudly smiling, the latter praising. "Ha, ha! Good thinking, Veronica!" He clapped his best friend on the shoulder. "You taught her well!"
Valerie had to admit, she was impressed with the improvising. "Nice one."
Simon reminded as patiently as he could. "Radio silence, please."
Pet turned her lamp off and left the truck again. Now that she was free of the excess weight, she moved about the jungle floor unhindered. At first, she worried she might have lost touch with the animal within her but soon learned otherwise. She was sprinting through the trees, leaping over shrubs and fallen limbs with barely a whisper from her movements. It took no effort at all for her to embrace the wild side that had been clawing to get free since arriving at the excavation site.
Meanwhile, those in the office were taken on a more exciting visual adventure through the jungle that expanded through a field of tall grass. Before, the pace had been slow and careful. Now it was rushed and felt more daring. Pet darted this way and that, avoiding vines stretching from tree limbs and to the ground. She felt free and back to her days of old, frolicking in the forest because why not? All the running she had been doing over the shifting terrain had the bottoms of her feet tingling and stinging a little. Her thoughts on the matter came to an abrupt halt the moment she saw a clearing up ahead.
"Target location?" was whispered so low, Derek had to turn up the speaker's sound.
"Repeat that?"
The hybrid hissed a bark in annoyance. "Target…location…"
"It's roughly a mile and a half north-west of you...on the other side of the airfield. Be careful, Pet."
A newfound sense of danger brought the hairs on her body standing on end. One cautious step at a time brought Pet to the landing strip of the derelict airfield. Her gaze became distant, and she watched it all play out in her mind.
Udesky was barging out of the tree line, shouting, "We have to leave! We have to leave now!"
Alan had told them not to land the plane, but they didn't listen. A roar Pet had never heard before tore through the air. The aircraft buzzed down the runway just as the mercenaries' companion came out of the jungle, bloodied and terrified for his life. Then it showed its ugly face; the Spinosaurus. Nash was late pulling up on the yolk, the plane skimming the signature sail of the dinosaur.
"We're going down!" was the last thing she heard before the plane did just that; it went down. Blue skies promising escape were replaced with tree limbs reaching out and pulling them back down.
"Pet? Pet! Snap out of it!" Muldoon yelling at her through her earpiece, ripped her out of her trance and back into reality. "What in the bloody hell is the matter with you? The target is coming towards your position! Get out of there!"
Pet scanned the area directly in front of her, seeing nothing. But she trusted her best friend and guardian and took off running into the woods. She wasn't immediately aware of it, but she ran in the direction she remembered the plane going down in. Again, her pace was quick until she nearly ran into a piece of aircraft debris in her way. The left-wing, complete with the destroyed engine, laid out before her.
Valerie was visibly shaken. "What in the hell? Is that what I think that is?"
Hoskins scoffed. "Last year, some tourists in a plane crashed on the island. That's just a small part of it."
Derek curtly interrupted. "Those tourists went to save a kid stranded on the island."
This had the redhead even more on edge. "Wha…what happened to the rest of the plane?"
Terrence answered. "I think we're about to see that for ourselves."
"And the tourists? What about the kid?" Valerie's green eyes went straight to Simon. "Sir?"
The billionaire described the event. "Eight people arrived at the island, Veronica being one of them. Three were unfortunately killed, but the survivors, along with the young boy, were rescued."
Pet stepped around the wing and continued sprinting through the woods. A trail of fallen over trees, broken limbs, and even more plane debris pointed her in the direction to continue going in. It all eventually led her to a familiar location responsible for so many nightmares since that day.
Laying out in front of her was the chartered aircraft's ravaged fuselage. She gasped, exhaling it as a labored breath. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and her throat knotted up. Taking a step towards it was impossible as her legs nearly gave out on her. Somewhere in her, courage and strength were mustered to walk around the crash site.
Everyone was horror-stricken at what they were seeing. Valerie brought a hand to her jaw dropped mouth. "What the fuck happened there?"
Hoskins had already seen the wreckage before, but it still held an influence over him. "Ms. Hammond's special friend. I read the reports. It tore that thing to pieces still in the tree."
Muldoon took the headset off Derek and spoke into the mic. "Whatever it is you're feeling right now, Pet, use it!" He watched the interior of the upside-down aircraft's cabin come into view.
Derek's attention darted to the map, and his eyes enlarged in horror.
Nothing needed to be said. The animal within her sensed something unnatural in the air. No crickets chirped, and the birds had gone quiet. A warning tingle shot down her spine, and she avidly slipped into the fuselage. She knelt between a row of seats, close to a window, and hoped the mud and fern sprigs were enough to protect her. As she waited there, that's when she smelled it; fresh blood. Panic filled her, wondering where it was coming from. Glancing down at her own feet, answered that question. Visible through the dirt clinging to the inside of her right foot was a cut dripping blood.
Pet mentally kicked herself in the ass for not noticing it sooner. She wasn't sure when it happened, as the pain never registered to her, but she had a feeling it was when running.
A tree limb being stepped on snapped somewhere close by. Birds squawked and flew out of the trees. Pet knew she needed to cover her wound, or she would surely be found by whatever was out there. She firmly pressed her left hand onto it since it was all she could immediately do.
Derek's hysterical voice echoed in her earpiece. "It's right on top of her! It's right fucking there!"
Pet reached for her knife strapped to her leg and soundlessly withdrew it. It was held within the shadows and angled towards the window to catch a reflection of the Spinosaur. Sure enough, not but fifteen feet from the wrecked fuselage was her target. Its green, menacing eyes searched the area. She knew it smelled her. It must've caught the scent of her at the airfield and tracked her blood trail to this spot.
It gave a small roar and neared closer to the downed aircraft. The end of its long snout paused beside the window next to Pet, its awful breath reeking of decayed flesh. A frustrated growl shook her on the spot. It snorted, the air of jostling the sprig ferns in her hair. It backed away, only for it to come into view as it stuck its nose into the gaping hole in the plane's side. The Spinosaur nudged the fuselage and scratched as its exterior.
Pet could see its bloodstained teeth in the space between the upside-down seats and shuttered. The hybrid dared not move, even to blink, as she kept her breathing shallow.
Simon ordered, "Mr. Hoskins, get your men to that island and get her out of there!"
Pet whispered, "No," on a quiet breath. In case she wasn't heard the first time, she repeated, "No," again. "Don't."
The Spinosaur disappeared from view, but its heavy footsteps were still heard circling around to the front. Pet's heart was pounding so hard, she wondered if the others could hear it, too, through the earpiece's super sensitive mic.
It dropped down on its front legs and growled a roar. When it didn't find anything to hunt, it gave up after a few minutes and strode away, its footsteps growing fainter in its departure.
Muldoon stated, "Twenty meters…twenty-five…" The long drawn out silence was torture to endure. "Fifty…"
Pet released most of the breath she had been holding and quietly sobbed. She was not ready for such an encounter with the carnivorous animal. Before it came back, she needed to wrap up her foot. Searching the cabin proved unrewarding. There was nothing. She leaned against a seat and grumbled to herself. Oh, but there was something she could use.
Being as vigilant as ever, Pet went outside and around to the far side of the wreck. Covered in leaves and growing moss was what was left of Amanda Kirby's abandoned luggage. It wasn't much; just a shoulder bag, but it was at least something. Pet ripped it open to find a wadded-up tan shirt, black capri pants, undergarments, and a folded-up pair of sockets. Bingo! The shirt was torn into shreds, and a piece used to wipe off what she could of her foot. The rest of the rags were tied around the injury.
Dr. Carlyle scolded through the headset. "There goes that unsanitary thing again. You and I are going to have a long talk about appropriate emergency first aid in the field."
Pet used her knife to cut the toes off a sock and slid it over the makeshift bandages to secure them in place. "I know plenty about first aid. Right now, this all I have until I can get back to the truck."
The hybrid rounded the front of the wreckage and saw the Spinosaur's footprint in the dirt. "I'm going to follow it," she stated and did just that. It wasn't that hard to do since the stench of its breath still lingered in its wake.
Paul couldn't believe he was this damn tight with nerves. "I would say that's not a good idea, but…seeing how this is what this trip is all about…Be careful."
Simon groaned, "Unbelievable."
Pet stayed low to the ground and used underbrush and trees as cover during her pursuit. She was so close to it, she could throw a rock at it. Still, her movements were as quiet as the wind.
The Spinosaur stepped out into a field, its posture lowering. Pet could tell it was on the hunt for something and watched it tear into a hurried run. The hybrid darted to the edge of the jungle to see her target go after a juvenile Parasaurolophus. She desperately wanted to know how the predator fought as part of her research but knew this would provide nothing useful. The fight was over in seconds with the dead prey at its feet.
Pet heard Terrence speak. "That thing has no idea what to do with itself, it's so out of its element. It should be feasting on fish, turtles, and even crocodiles. Seeing how small that island is, there's nowhere near enough of anything to satisfy its hunger… except sizeable prey, like that."
The woman smiled, Derek heard asking rather jerk-ish like, "Did you learn that from Dr. Grant, too?"
"It's called reading books, ass wipe."
Simon had to interrupt the two. "That's enough."
Pet stifled back a laugh. She knelt beside a tree amongst a tuft of ferns, aiming to blend in with her surroundings. She kept herself on the spot, observing the creature as it ate its fill.
The rest of the afternoon and into early evening brought Pet back to the water truck. She crawled into the safety of its confines and closed the hatch. The lamp's illuminance was turned up, and the hybrid dug a small medical kit out of a side pocket. Clean water from a bottle and a piece of gauze was used to wash off her foot. An alcohol swab was squeezed on the raw wound, and antibiotic ointment smeared all over it. A broad band-aid patch was placed on the site, and gauze strips wrapped over that.
Satisfied she couldn't treat it and mask the smell of blood any better, Pet got a meatloaf MRE out of her bag. Despite being in a moderately safe place, she kept her voice low. "So, what are you guys having for dinner?" She was surprised to hear Paul answer.
"Not a bloody clue. It smells wonderful, whatever it is. It probably tastes loads better than what you have there, too."
Pet shrugged. "I can't complain. It's food. Who else is with you?"
Paul glanced to his right where Simon sat. The rest of the extra chairs were empty, which Paul was sure wouldn't be for long. He was willing to bet one of two scenarios; either the others were eating as fast as possible or were coming back with plates in hand.
The wealthy man was stretched out in the chair, navy blue suit coat tossed over the back, and his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Traces of dark circles filled the underneath of his eyes, exposing his lack of sleep to anyone who noticed. He sounded just as tired when answering the inquiring woman. "It's just Mr. McCroy and myself at the present time."
"Where's the Spino right now?"
Paul didn't have to look at the map to know. "Its den, probably sleeping off a full stomach."
"Which is what I'll be doing, soon. I advise everyone else do the same."
If only it were that easy, Paul thought. If sleep came for anyone that night, he'd be surprised. "Can't make any promises."
