I know it's a very long time since I've posted a new chapter. My writer's ADD brain had me going all over the place with rampant ideas on a story I'm hoping to be my next published book. I regret not writing this chapter much sooner. This is one of those chapters where an event in it had been played out soooooo much in my head.
PREPARATIONS
16 - Burying the Past
Thunderous foot stomps. Ear piercing roars. Yellow eyes. Menacing teeth. Powerful jaws capable of crushing the bones of its prey. She was underwater. Drowning. She was drowning. Sharp claws. Collapsing of rusted metal. Drowning. Its screams echoing underwater. Claws reaching out for her, grabbing her.
Pet jerked wide awake from her restless sleep. Beads of sweat trickled down her brow, loose strands of her hair sticking to her person. She had been having yet another nightmare, like so many others in her past following a traumatic event. Just when she was starting to actually sleep at night, off to the islands she went. Again.
The hybrid drew her knees to her chest and closed her eyes. The steady breeze rolling off the ocean cooled her tempered body and calmed her rampant nerves. Her sweat dampened tank top clinging to her battle scarred body was starting to give her a slight chill from the wind. Sensing someone nearby, however, reverted her mind off of it. Pet couldn't immediately tell who it was, seeing how they were standing behind her and downwind of her.
Pet sighed. "Getting a kick out of watching me lose my shit?"
Paul casually strode into view, his hands tucked into his khaki pants pockets. "Oh, I'm having such a blast." He withdrew his hands from his pockets only to fold them over the other when leaning against the yacht's side railing. "What about you? Getting a kick out of reliving your most horrifying moments?"
Pet huffed a weak laugh. "Ya think Simon would be okay with me making popcorn at odd ass o'clock at night to better enjoy my PTSD fits?"
"While you're making the popcorn, I'll be making us drinks so we can both get a better kick out of it." Paul tossed her an over the shoulder smirk.
The hybrid smiled and shook her head. "I'm guessing the trip in ninety-seven still gets to you?"
Paul dropped his head and heaved an exhaled breath. He watched the waves splash against the side of the yacht. "More often than I'd like." He went silent for a moment, Pet knowing there was more he was wanting to say. "Shortly after getting back home, there was a thunderstorm. I didn't get a wink of sleep that night. Every time it thundered I was wide awake, thinking it was a T-Rex crashing through the camp." Blue eyes lifted back up to the dark, nightfallen mass of Isla Sorna. "It took me the better part of two years before I was able to sleep through a storm."
Pet frowned. "Only to come right back to the island."
Paul shrugged. "I'm not the only one. Robert, the Piss Ant known as Derek, Terrence… even Roland have bad memories of these islands. It's not easy coming back and subjecting oneself to the horrors they've struggled to overcome. Some say facing your worst fears makes getting over them easier. I say bollocks to that. Let them experience a week on those islands where every day, every night is do or die… then ask them to come back to overcome their problems."
Silence lingered between the two for a few minutes. The hybrid bit her lips together and nervously cleared her throat. "Is it just the T-Rex that fucked you up, or was it getting shot, too?" Pet worried the question might be too personal.
The Brit answered regardless. "Both. But there's one other that took me some time to get over." He gave her another over the shoulder backward glance, this time without the smirk. There was a sadness in his eyes that struck the woman.
Pet's frown deepened. "Me."
Paul turned around to fully face his conversation partner. "I remembered all those stories Robert told me of you from your days at the Kenya zoo. Then Jurassic Park. How you fought off a T-Rex twice, raptors, tackled animals twice your height and size. I got to see for myself first hand just how dangerous you were when seeing Reynolds' dead cronies disemboweled and ripped to shreds. I might have been half out of it as I was being dragged back to the mercenary base camp, but I was still lucid enough to notice the graveyard you made of the place." He saw her run a finger over a sickle claw. "I still remember how you looked the first time I saw you, covered in mud and claws stained with blood. For a moment, there, I honestly believed you were going to kill us. Well, except for Robert."
Pet relaxed her legs by resting the pads of her feet on the cool surface of the yacht's patio floor. "To be quite honest, in that particular moment, I was tempted to. But then I got to thinking…" The tip of the right sickle claw lightly tapped the floor. "Robert has always been an overly cautious and paranoid person, especially with me. The moment Derek said he was on the island, I knew it was for me. Seeing you all there… I knew Robert wouldn't chance bringing anyone to the island with the risk of them revealing me to the world. Seeing how we used to work off and on with Amadi in Kenya, and with Derek being what was believed to be his nephew at the time…" Pet shrugged, turning her head just enough to frown at Isla Sorna. "Robert knew they weren't going to say anything. But the others?" Blue-green upturned to meet calm blue ones. "And you? He trusted you. It's why I didn't kill you."
Paul didn't know if he should be concerned or relieved. It's not like it mattered anyway. That was years ago. "But you were going to."
The lack of a verbal answer paired with the look in her eyes was answer enough. Pet broke her observing the man to gaze back out at the island. "The first time I killed a person, I felt sick with myself afterward. I mean, I didn't deliver the killing blow but I aided in the man's death. At the time, I saw it as self defense…kill or be killed. When I realized what I did, I knew it wasn't just a man I set a T-Rex up to kill. He could've been a father, a brother, uncle...definitely somebody's son. I took him from his family." Pet dropped her eyes and her head down to analyze her left hand's claws. "After Terrence left with the first hunting party, I knew there would be more. I needed to suck it up and harden myself to do what was needed. The way I came to see it, if someone willingly came to the island to hunt me down, knowing the dangers, then they were already dead. I would just help them get there."
Paul crossed his arms over his chest and slightly narrowed his eyes down on the hybrid. "Which brings me to wonder." Blue-green eyes looked back at him. "Say your recovery from the island went differently after the whole plane crash incident."
Pet furrowed her brows curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Instead of the U.S. military getting involved, the task became one of private interest."
"Meaning?"
"If Mr. Masrani showed up with maybe one or two armed men for that just in case to rescue you and the others himself."
Pet shrugged her good shoulder, shaking her head. "Okay, so?"
Paul shifted his stance from one foot to the other, arms still over his chest. "Robert told me how fearful you were of Masrani and the potential idea he was trying to find you to kill you. Given that mindset then, if you saw him on the island with armed men at his side… would you have killed him, too?"
Pet opened her mouth to answer, but stopped. Her brow dropped and eyes saddened. Her posture changed, making her look more like a kicked puppy then a dangerous hybrid. "Yeah, actually. I probably would have." She wasn't sure what hurt more; realizing what she could have done or hearing herself say it. "I'd have taken out the hired muscle, first. That is, of course, if I was well enough to at the time and not dying in the sand from my illness having flared up." Pet brought her uninjured leg back up to her chest and wrapped her left arm around it. She was ready for her right clavicle to completely heal. "I don't want to hurt anyone else."
"Hmm," the Brit drawled to himself in thought. "Are you sure about that?"
Yellowing eyes cut down on him. He smirked. Then Pet realized what he was getting at. "Well, I guess I could make an exception for Porky Pig."
"That's what I thought." They laughed to themselves. Paul noticed the momentary uplifted mood of the woman return to solemness. "What's on your mind, now?"
Head still lowered, worrisome blue-green eyes aimed in the direction of the island again. "Just a thought."
"What thought would that be?"
Seven-thirty in the morning came later than Pet would have liked. A balled up, clawed fist was held barely an inch from the door belonging to Simon's private yacht suite. Pet dropped her hand and wiped her sweaty palm on the front of her sweat pants. She swallowed the knot of nerves in her throat and raised her fist again. No, she couldn't and dropped it back at her side.
What was she doing? She'd fought dinosaurs before, and suddenly was too afraid to ask someone a question? Once more, she raised her hand to knock and was just about to when the door opened.
Simon, freshly rested and dressed in a light grey suit, stopped abruptly in the doorway upon seeing the hybrid. He blinked in surprise at her. "Ms. Hammond?" The startled deer in the headlights look on the woman's face concerned him. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Maybe?"
Sigh. It was then that he noticed she was without her crutches, though her ankle was still wrapped in its brace. "What did you do? You didn't throw my pilot overboard did you?"
Pet glowered at the billionaire. "No, not yet."
"Tranquilize, shoot or otherwise cause bodily harm to my head of security?"
Pet rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately not."
"That's a relief," Simon breathed out. He stepped out into the narrow corridor and closed the door. "Any other matter needing discussing shouldn't be an issue, then." He proceeded walking in the direction of the dining hall. "Where are you crutches? You shouldn't be walking on that ankle without assistance."
Pet snorted a quiet screech in her limping to keep up with his pace. "I can walk just fine. It's a sprain, not a break."
"A sprain that can worsen if not careful." He hadn't even had breakfast, yet, and here was the hybrid wanting to speak with him about something. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Um...well…a favor…" the man stopping without warning had Pet crashing into him. She recomposed herself, though blushing with embarrassment, and continued. "If possible."
"I figured as much." Simon pondered the woman. "What is it you're wanting to hunt and kill, now?"
Pet looked off to the side. "Nothing. My interest is to return to Isla Sorna for personal reasons...more or less," she politely added.
"For what personal reasons?"
The woman bit her lips together timidly. "After being left on the island, I was a different person. I had given up on humanity. When the second hunting party came around, I had no problems eliminating their threat no matter how that might be. Fast forward to now, I'm not that person anymore. I'd like to return to the mercenary camp and bury that part of me I want to forget."
Simon slowly nodded. "I see." His dark eyes shifted back down to the ankle brace. "I'd like Dr. Carlyle to do an evaluation on you, first. Make sure you're well enough to handle going to the island. I presume personal reasons you are going for will require walking?" Pet gave a small shrug and slight cock of the head in a nod. "I want someone with you."
"I'm sure it'll be someones coming with me."
"The more the safer. How long do you expect this to take?"
Pet thought for a minute. "Maybe two or three hours, depending."
Simon arched a brow. "On?"
"We're going to an island inhabited by dinosaurs. I'm just going to leave it at that for the depending."
"Fair enough." Another nod was given. "Very well, but you're going equipped with a camera and tracker, again, should that depending be a thing."
Pet groaned in frustration, but accepted the wealthy man's terms. She limped back the way she came, to the upper deck.
By nine-fifteen, Pet was changed into her grey hiking shorts and a black tank top. Fastened around her person was yet another climber's harness equipped with the camera and GPS tracker. She stood on the patio deck, watching as the grey InGen helicopter descended onto the helipad. Standing on either side of her was Muldoon, Roland, Paul and Derek. Each man had their preferred weapon of choice, along with a pistol strapped to their belt.
Dr. Carlyle was there, as well, and talking loud enough to be heard over the helicopter's rotor. "If at any point and time your ankle starts to hurt, you stop and rest it. Use one of those cooling packs I put in Derek's backpack. Do not push yourself! You will only make yourself worse."
Pet took a moment to scowl at Hoskins, taunting her with a smug grin, as he stood at the base of the side access stairway. Simon approaching her reverted her attention to him. He visually scanned her for the camera and tracker. "Just like before, you will be monitored the whole time. I'm giving you two hours to do what you need to do. I want you back on the boat by the time I have to leave to greet the construction team on the mainland. Their ship will be docking soon."
Pet nodded. "Alright. Two hours should be good enough, I suppose."
"And Veronica," Simon added, expression more serious, "try not to get into trouble. I would prefer you alive and well for the briefing in two days."
Annoyance filled the hybrid's blue-green eyes. "What briefing?"
"The briefing you'll be conducting to the construction employees and newly arrived corralling team members prior to work beginning." Pet's deepening scowl broadened Simon's sly smile. "One favor for another." As it always seemed to be her way of doing things, he'd just do the same.
Derek did his best to stifle a chuckle behind the woman's back. Pet sighed a groan. "What am I supposed to be briefing?"
"The animal species list you recently updated."
The hybrid's head dropped. "Of course."
Simon continued. "It's important that all employees know what to expect while working on the island. Who better to inform them than someone who knows from personal experience their dangers?"
"Right," Pet mumbled sourly. She trudged past the suited man and shouldered past Hoskins. "Asshole." To the helicopter she went and plopped down in a seat.
Once her travel companions were all seated, the crew chief directed the helicopter for take off. It slowly rose up, Roland studying his goddaughter curiously. "What's the real reason for this trip of yours?"
Pet watched the helicopter's shadow skim over the ocean's waves. "It's what I told Simon… to bury the old me."
Derek shook his head. "Nah ah. Nope. Not buying it. There's more to it than that. Knowing you, there's definitely more to it."
Yellowing eyes locked onto chocolate brown ones. "What are you expecting me to say, that I want to find Reynolds' remains and shit on it?"
"Now that sounds like something you would do!"
Simon returned to the office room to find Terrence seated behind the three computer monitors. He was lightly laughing to himself and shaking his head. Simon joined him. "What is so funny?"
Terrence answered. "Dumb and dumber being their usual selves. I honestly believe it's physically impossible for Derek to not be a little shit."
"That would make two of us."
The pilot touched down at the given coordinates near the opposite side of the island. Paul gulped. Though much time had passed since the last time he had seen that part of the island, he still remembered how everything looked.
He was brought back to that day back in nineteen ninety seven, rushing to leave the island that horrific morning. The two T-Rexes that had been wreaking havoc on the camp had retreated back to their den. Virgil Reynolds had been killed by a bullet between the eyes. Pet had been tranquilized and the recovery team survivors a literal bloody mess. Paul couldn't wait to get on the boat and leave the nightmare behind.
Yet, here he was, getting off a helicopter and stepping foot onto that same stretch of beach. Being at the airfield was one thing. It was someplace new. This place wasn't. The group made their way to the treeline, the hybrid being the most forward of them.
Pet stopped, her raptor eyes narrowing and jaw clenching. Derek took a stance beside her. "Do you remember where to go?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I remember." Clawed feet resumed walking.
Roland, who had been keeping a sharp eye open for any movement in the underbrush, spoke up. "This would have placed the poacher's camp in the Spinosaur's territory."
Derek scoffed. "Back then, the Spino wasn't a thing. Or maybe it was, just a baby. I never saw it."
Pet giggled. "You were too busy getting bullied by Compies."
"I swear I'm going to find one and shoot it's fucking head off."
Paul deviously grinned. "Is that the real reason for your PTSD? A bunch of ankle biters?"
Derek nodded at the hybrid a few steps in front of him. "Cujo, up there, didn't help. Blood sucking bitch." Muldoon smacked up in the back of his head. "I apologize for nothing. It's true. She almost killed me!" Pet grinned to herself. "Does the Doc even know what the hell he's really marrying? It's one thing to hear stories of someone mauling another to death. To see it first hand is completely different."
Pet laughed a snort. "So dramatic. You never saw me 'maul another to death.'"
"I was the one you were mauling!" Derek ranted. Paul laughed.
Muldoon sighed, as Roland shook his head with a roll of his eyes. The big game hunter interjected. "She bit you twice, you whiny git."
"She tried to rip my throat out with her teeth!"
Terrence cued over the radio clipped to Muldoon's belt. "I thought you were into that kinky biting and clawing shit."
Chirping and movement in the underbrush ahead stopped the group in their trek. Out jumped a Compy, bobbing its head and chirping again. Pet pointed at it. "Hey look, Derek. It's your fan club president welcoming you back!"
Derek cocked his rifle and aimed it at the tiny dinosaur. A loud blast tore through the otherwise peaceful air, spooking a flock of birds singing in a tree overhead. The shot missed the dinosaur, scurrying back into hiding.
Paul jabbed, "I think you missed," and walked past in resuming following the hybrid.
Up ahead, through the trees, was what remained of the camp. Only one side of a tent remained standing, its olive drab color partially masked by dirt and mold. The rest of the tents were buried under dead leaves, and what shrubs had grown up. Empty supply containers were grown over with moss. Barely visible beneath a collapsed tent was a body vest and green military fatigues.
Roland used a booted foot to move aside a part of the tent to reveal a half buried skull. Further investigation revealed the lower torso to be missing, probably ripped off by a T-Rex. "These bastards didn't stand a chance."
Pet stared down at the tree where she remembered seeing her best friend and legal guardian seated under. She could still see him, tied up and bleeding, as Reynolds tortured him. Her jaw firmed as her left hand's fist balled up at her side.
Muldoon stepping up beside her blocked her distant, unblinking stare on the tree. Their eyes locked. He knew that look and understood why she wanted to come back there. It wasn't just to bury the past, but for closure as well.
Her careful steps carried her deeper into the jungle. Derek was right behind her, Paul behind him. The woman would stop occasionally to get her bearings, then keep going.
Roland was puzzled. "Where are we going, now?"
Muldoon answered. "I have an idea."
Some distance away from the campsite, Pet paused again. Her eyes darted this way and that, searching the trees for her answer. Derek pointed to their right. "This way." The hybrid followed.
They almost missed it, if it weren't for a dirty black boot making itself seen at the right angle. At the base of a broad tree was what Pet had been looking for.
Inside the yacht's office room, Simon cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow. As he watched the dead leaves be cleared away by a clawed hand, a human skull became visible. As much as he knew the story of the hunting trip, he didn't need to be told who's remains he was seeing.
Terrence spoke through the radio again. "Uh, is that who I think that is?"
Raptor eyes bored into empty sockets looking up at her, the skull's bottom jaw hanging off to the side in the dirt. A third hole was seen between the eyes, Pet running a finger tip over it. She wiggled the skull loose out of the soft earth and held it up to be eye level with her. Her looking through the bullet hole had her seeing straight through the backside of the skull, where it had been blown out from the gunshot.
Anger and hate twisted into sinister delight. She smiled. "Alas, poor Virgil! I knew him, y'know: a fellow of infinite deceit, of most excellent dishonesty: he hath come here to hunt me for thousands of dollars; and now, how fucking dead he is."
Paul laughed out loud. "Hah! Classic!"
Roland was offended. "What an insult to Shakespeare!"
Derek was snickering. "Good one, Pet."
Muldoon slowly inhaled a breath and released it just as slowly. "Well, at least I know you were paying attention when I was teaching you Hamlet."
Terrence frowned. "Seriously?"
Simon just rubbed his eyes. At this point, nothing really surprised him when it came to the hybrid. At least it wasn't something else more degrading she was doing.
Pet tapped a claw on what remained of the back of the skull. "I've been waiting a long time for this."
Her grip tightened so much it was a question of whether or not she was trying to break it in her hand. It was found out otherwise when she slammed it against the nearby tree, shattering it. Bits of skull and dislodged teeth pelted an exposed tree root.
She stood up and dusted her hand off on her shorts. As sweetly and innocently as she could, Pet smiled at the others. "Well, that was relieving."
Roland gawked at her with a deadpan expression. "Are you done? Have you buried the past?"
"My only regret was that he wasn't eaten by a Rex and shat out."
In her walking away, she did her best not to limp. The walk through the jungle, across the uneven terrain to that point, bothered her more than she thought it would. Dr. Carlyle's words of resting when needed were ignored. Pet was not about to give in to weakness. She refused to.
