I and Cynthia stared at each other.

"It's...Albert, actually. What are you still doing here?"

"It's a long story." And...she left it at that.

I shook my head in frustration. "You're right. No time to chat. You see some kids and another Velociraptor—"

She pointed in the direction of the lobby. "Tell them thanks for the distraction. I came this close to getting dis — Hey, watch where you're going!"

I'd started running the moment she'd pointed.

You know how much I said my peripheral vision is great? My forward sight...not so much. I collided with an oversized wooden crate on an electric pallet jack. Something within the feeble plywood made heavy clacking sounds, like a giant pool cue hitting oversized billiard balls.

I stuck my head around the corner of the crate. Cassie neared the lobby staircase a few yards ahead of me, Moriarty in close pursuit.

Now, I could do a couple things to distract my enemy: I could either shout a lot, maybe throw a few things and sink my teeth into his tail (if I caught it in time), or I could ram him with a giant wooden crate full of heavy things.

I'd seen that scratched up yellow machine in operation before. Just about every week, I'd hear beeping noises, look out the window and see people wheeling the thing up and down a ramp attached to a truck. Crates, huge pallets of sugar and popcorn, beds, plumbing fixtures, all kinds of things. I watched how they raised the prongs, drove it forward and reverse.

Ordinarily you pulled down on the handle and squeezed a lever, but I'd seen people set it vertical and ride it before. This one freckle faced guy got so reckless that it knocked a chunk of concrete off the side of the loading dock.

With that in mind, I hopped on, squeezed the lever as hard as I could.

As luck would have it, the machine had been charged recently, and I didn't put it in reverse (dislodging the crate) nor squeeze the lever that lowered the heavy crate to the floor.

Unfortunately, luck wouldn't have it travel in a straight path. The crate rocketed off in a diagonal, wrecking into a huge bundle of metal pipes and scaffolding poles. They made a terrific amount of noise as they toppled over, several rolling across the lobby floor. Oopsie.

Although I didn't get the crate anywhere close to my scaly target, all these tall cylindrical things crashed down around him, giving him quite a fright.

I guess the crate had been rated okay for transport, but certainly not meant to be rammed against anything.

Constructed of rather flimsy plywood, and hammered together in a slapdash fashion, it broke apart at the front end. Out came an avalanche of bowling balls. Double oopsie.

About that...let's backtrack for a moment...

Being the "Spare no expense" type of guy, Mr. Hammond once had the bright idea of putting a bowling alley in the park. He had a whole entertainment complex outlined: Video arcade, complete with skeeball machines and Whack A Mole, a mini carnival with ring toss, that game where you shoot the ducks (appropriately dinosaur themed, of course), Ferris wheel...I mean, why not? Walt Disney World with dinosaurs.

But then, well, Hammond's bookkeeper politely asked him, "Sir, is it possible for you to maybe spare a little expense? It's not like Space Mountain and The Haunted Mansion consume eight metric tons of meat and vegetables every day..."

So Hammond was like, "Well, okay, fair point. If people are busy bowling and playing Whack A Mole, they're probably not going to be looking at the dinosaurs anyway. Maybe we can put all that stuff on the Jurassic Park Cruise Liner after this first thing takes off."

Well, somebody from Brunswick didn't read the memo, hence the gigantic pallet of bowling balls.

"We don't even have blueprints for the bloody thing!" Hammond cried into the telephone. "What are we going to do with all these balls?"

Unfortunately, by then the boat with the shipment of said bowling balls had already docked at the island, and Hammond's staff had all-too-helpfully loaded it into a truck, driven it up to the Visitor Center, and deposited it in the lobby for him.

Hammond asked the Brunswick company to take the bowling balls back, but they flatly refused, telling him on no uncertain terms that they were his to keep, no refunds on the order or shipping.

For the aforementioned reasons, a colorful assortment of spherical objects, ranging from 10 to 16 pounds in weight (and manufactured to adhere to stringent USBC regulations) came raining down upon my diamond backed foe.

Well, a few of them, at any rate. Enough to knock him out cold.

Remember how I looked out my cell and saw a blonde lady in a pink shirt and khakis riding around in a Jeep? This woman now came rushing down the staircase to meet Cassie.

Her shoulder looked wounded and bloody. It seemed she'd had a run-in with our mutual enemies. "Hey, little girl. I'm Ellie. You got some friends waiting for you upstairs. I suggest we go before that dinosaur wakes—" She started when she noticed me come running up to them. "Up."

I gave her a friendly wave. "Hey! Need any help?"

"N-no thanks," the woman stammered. "We're, we're good."

Cassie glanced back at me. "That's just Albert. He won't hurt you."

I gave Ellie my nicest smile, but, you know, I don't have the nicest looking teeth.

The woman grabbed Cassie's hand. "C'mon, kid. Let's go."

"Ma'am, just to let you know, Cassie's right." I raised my arms to signal my peaceful intent. "I did just drive that pallet jack full of bowling balls. You're welcome?"

Ellie stared at me, scrunching her face like she smelled a fart. "Did you just talk?"

A moment later, the green lump beneath the bowling balls groaned and stirred.

Cassie refused to move. "I can't go. Dad's still out there."

Noting the woman's blank expression, I explained. "His name is Muldoon. He's the game warden of this place."

"Oh! You're his daughter?" She put her hand on the girl's shoulder. "I met your father earlier today. He's a tough man. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Yeah, but he just fell into the Raptor cage and broke his leg. I'm worried!"

Ellie sighed, giving me an expectant look.

I froze, caught between my devotion to the child and my desire to...be helpful.

If watching The Jungle Book had taught me anything, it was that a `Man Cub' would be safe among other humans with weapons. Theoretically.

I took a deep breath. "Sure, if you think you guys got this, I can go look for him."

With a curt nod, the woman took the opportunity to make herself and Cassie scarce. I heard a door click shut.

I ran to the exit, gave it a push, then immediately regretted it.

The Proceratosauruses had returned.

I attempted to close the door, but One Eyed Willie bounded up the stairs and pounced me to the floor, her companions squeezing and shoving the door open, until the whole pack flooded in.

"Carrumba!"

I grabbed a ten pound bowling ball with the claw of my good arm, cracking Willie in the head.

I rolled her on her back, then jumped aside when two of her associates snapped their teeth at me.

I rolled two black 16 pounders and a tie dye pattern 12 pounder at them, then, once at a good distance, played shot put with a 10, clobbering one of Willie's snap happy friends.

I tried to repeat the performance with the freckly one next to her, but she dodged out of the way, the bowling ball creating a spiderweb crack in the glass door.

I decided to cut my enemies a little slack. "Hey, guys! Did you notice all the beautiful scenery outside? It's a lovely day, the storm's over, why don't you go back out and enjoy a nice nature hike around the island?"

The Proceratosauruses just growled at me. Can't tell if it's because they understood, or because they didn't.

"Okay, fine..." I held up my claws to form an imaginary picture frame. "You mind scooching close together, say, in a group of nine? You know, in a vaguely triangular formation?"

Instead of complying, they took the offensive, so I abandoned the regulation form of bowling for the sake of expediency, rolling ball after ball at any Proceratosaurus standing upright.

Not very satisfying when they don't make that thundering clatter sound.

"Um...spare?"

A hollow clomping sound cut my victory celebrations short.

While I'd been busy playing Bowling for Dinosaurs, Moriarty had regained consciousness, rushing up the staircase. Already his claws scratched across the middle landing.

Zelda, presently closer to him than I, let out a ferocious bark and bounded up two steps at a time, sinking her teeth into his tail.

The two wrestled and growled down to the foot of the staircase, biting and clawing at each other.

With a crazy Bruce Lee scream, I leapt and kicked Moriarty in the head, following up with a hard backfist and a chop to the neck.

He snarled and opened his mouth to bite, but I had already moved into a Karate Kid crane stance, jumping up with a double kick to the jaw.

My foot knocked that toothy mouth closed. He fell unconscious on the concrete.

Zelda gazed at me in loving awe.

Unfortunately, that's when my scaly `bowling pins' rose to their feet, all of them rushing me at once.

Pop!

Pop! Pop! Pop!

My jaw dropped as the creatures collapsed on the floor with fuzzy ended darts stuck in their bodies.

I looked back. To my absolute shock, I spotted Cassie's dad, flat on his stomach, loading ammunition into a rifle...

And nearby, pasty faced Bryan, digging supplies out of a backpack. No clue what he was still doing on the island. Another "long story," I suppose.

"Mister Muldoon! How'd you get here?"

"There's no time!" the man shouted. "Go! Make sure Cassie's safe!"

How did he get there so fast? Well, here's what I can piece together, in retrospect:

As you remember, at the Raptor paddock, Muldoon jumped through the hole in the fence, and hit more than a couple tree branches on the way down.

Obviously, not having a good time, but the man's as tough as nails, so, not counting a ton of bruises, he mainly injured his leg. When I say `injured,' I mean `broken,' of course.

Mr. Macho, noting how busy I kept the other Raptors, did some quick first aid on himself. He had plenty of broken sticks and a knife, so he ripped up his clothes and tied strips around the wood, fashioning a splint-tourniquet-ish thing.

Using a stick as a cane, Muldoon quickly hobbled to the nearest door, unlocked it, and yelled to me, before getting in and slamming it shut.

Some kind of supply corridor, you know, for feeding Raptors, giving them medication, or a tire to play with, that kind of thing. He caught his breath there for a few moments in the dark, taking generous swigs from his flask (Cough! Alcoholic! Cough cough!) he always kept on his person.

He hobbled down the darkened tunnel, flipped a light switch, and suddenly found he had company.

Nope, not a dinosaur, just Mr. Pasty. Sorry to disappoint you.

Bryan let out a bloodcurdling shriek when he noticed Muldoon limping up to him. After running into me earlier, it should not surprise you that maybe Bryan thought other dinosaurs knew how to operate light switches.

At any rate, Bryan knew about an underground monorail car nearby, and it just so happened to have electrical power.

And a rifle.

Of course, he still had to hobble up the back stair, and go through the lab...

Anyways, back to what happened in the lobby...

"Shit!" Bryan cried, tugging Muldoon's sleeve.

Cassie's dad paled, sweating as he peered through the sights.

Slight problem: It seemed that Clouseau had just discovered how to unlock the freezer, for now she, Felicity and Hastings came rushing out from the restaurant.

The horse foreheaded Clouseau glanced at her fallen comrade and growled at me.

I stepped back in (ironically) fighting horse stance, hoping to distract the whole group away from Cassie and the humans upstairs, but the other two just sniffed, nodded to each other, and rushed up the staircase.

"Dammit!"

Ever perceptive, Zelda made noises to the effect of `I'll take care of Horse Face, you go upstairs.'

`You sure?' I grunted back.

`Go,' she snorted, nodding in Muldoon's direction.

I gave her the `I love you' sound and chased the others already halfway en route to the second floor.

Our plan backfired. Although Clouseau initially seemed interested in eating Cassie's dad, she gave up after scuffling with Zelda for a few seconds, running up the steps behind me

`Company!' Zelda chirped.

I took a quick glance down at the lobby.

My girlfriend remained at the foot of the stairs, making sure our enemy didn't come back down, watching Moriarty.

Bryan helped Muldoon to the door, Muldoon muttering something about taking care of the small unconscious dinosaurs.

Cynthia crept out of hiding, grabbed a Proceratosaurus by its midsection and dragged it off down a hallway.

I hurried to the next floor.

The other humans had holed themselves up in a room full of computers. I could see them and these computers through large circular windows.

Tim and Lex sat at one of these terminals, Lex laser focused on...the monitor, Tim mouthing words I couldn't hear. Grant stood behind the two, the dumb expression on his face indicating he couldn't even program a VCR. Cassie entertained herself in a swivel chair nearby, spinning it around and around and around. I couldn't see Ellie.

The label on the door said `Control Room.' I hoped it had something to do with automatic door locks, because, well...Felicity knew about door handles.

By the time I arrived, she already had her syrup coated claw on the door handle, Hastings popping her nose through the crack. Teamwork.

Grant, horrified, slammed his whole weight into the door. Hastings quickly popped her nose out, but Felicity kept fiddling with the handle, and Hastings had strong dinosaur muscles.

I glanced at the staircase hopefully, but, in between Muldoon being crippled and Bryan...being Bryan, I doubted we'd receive help from that quarter.

Again I ask, why so many inward opening doors? Have they not seen cop shows?

I jumped on Felicity's' back, grabbing her door handle turning claws. The act felt very kinky, and would have gotten me in trouble with Zelda, had Felicity appreciated it, rather than throwing me off onto the tile floor.

The handle already turned, allowed Hastings to once again stick her snout through the gap, Felicity shoving hers in alongside. Ellie had to rush in and throw her added weight upon the door to get it closed again.

I punched and struck Hastings with a hammerfist, socked Felicity with a wheel kick.

Unfortunately, that's when Clouseau came to their aid, all three growling and smashing me into the faux ceramic squares. The oversized yellow plug to a floor buffer poked me uncomfortably in the nose.

Ka-Bang! The distinct sound of hollow aluminum and plastic striking a solid object. Felicity collapsed on top of me.

Pow! The gray-black object bounced off Hasting's noggin. She snarled and winced at the pain, backing away from me.

Clouseau whirled around, barking angrily.

A Nintendo console lay cracked and chipped on the floor near April-Zelda's feet, the cover to the springloaded cartridge loading tray shattered and hanging off. A gold Zelda 2 cartridge lay upended next to it. I bet my girlfriend would have found it hilarious if she could read.

All three raptors crouched, ready to pounce and disembowel her.

Spotting a wall outlet, I jammed the floor buffer plug home.

Having witnessed the machine in operation before, I nodded to Zelda, bobbed my head in the direction of the buffer/scrubber machine, made pinching motions with my claw.

Blink blink blink. I loved Zelda, but...not a genius.

Groaning, I pointed to the machine, squeezing my claws like I had grabbed the handles and pulled the red lever in.

Zelda's eyes widened in understanding, but by then all three Raptors had already sprung into the air. I closed my eyes, fearing the worst.

Rrrrrrrrrrrr!

The unmistakable sound of the buffer in action. I opened my eyes again, suppressing a laugh at my mate's `Jane, stop this crazy thing' facial expression.

The powerful floor polisher had launched itself across the tiles with terrific speed, dragging Zelda along behind it.

The handlebars crashed into Clouseau, sending her sprawling to the floor, spinning plastic bristles and whatnot forcefully exfoliating her burned face as the machine rolled over her.

Felicity and Hastings, meanwhile, collided with one another in the air, crashing down on the tiles.

Clouseau staggered to her feet, wincing at her broken skin. She didn't notice she had a cord between her legs until Zelda reached the top of the stairs and it pulled taut, once again throwing her on her back.

The machine ran out of cord...and flooring, pitching down the staircase, with my girlfriend still clutching the handles.

Something made a loud clamping sound. I glanced through a window and saw Lex giving the sign for touchdown. Apparently they got the automated door locks to work.

No time to ponder it much further. My girlfriend would hurt herself tumbling down that staircase. I rushed after, bounding several steps to catch up.

Just barely.

I shoved the floor buffer aside, shielding Zelda with my body. The machine went boom boom boom all the way to the lower floor, where it flopped sideways with its undercarriage spinning. A sparkling blue cleaning chemical gushed all over the place.

Cynthia, who had been dragging off another Proceratosaurus at the time, cried, "Jeez! Be careful! What are you trying to do up there? Kill me?"

Muldoon, who had been leaning against the railing, frowned and limped back from the mess, nearly slipping and falling on his butt.

I and Zelda kept bumping down the steps, our momentum not stopping until we rolled onto the landing.

There I lay, flat on my back. Zelda smiled at me, giving me a flirtatious `Hey' noise.

"Hey," I grunted back.

She leaned in close, chewed on my mouth a little, licked the sides of my neck.

Our romantic interlude got cut short by the sound of shattering glass. Someone screamed.

I got up, rushing to the second floor.

When I reached the control room, I found the windows shattered, the other Raptors suspiciously absent from the hallway.

"Oh, that's just great," I groaned.

I could only hope my friends were still alive in there.