CHAPTER 47

Robinson slid the helicopter's side door open, and the wind from the rotors rushed in. "Wait here. Keep it running," he shouted at the pilot.

He and Page exited the chopper and headed down the dirt road towards the cabins. It didn't take them long at all to spot Earl Sr. They saw him standing in the middle of the street, gazing blankly at the sky. His good arm was drooped with his pistol hanging off his finger by the trigger guard. Spatters of blood were at his feet. The front of his clothing was dark with red. Then he collapsed in a heap.

"Oh, my god," Page said.

They both ran toward him, but something else got there first. Out of the foliage all around, a swarm of compsognathus rushed in. Within seconds Earl's body was teeming with them. They ripped at his clothing and bit through his skin. All Robinson could see was a mass of flipping tails, prying claws, and gnawing teeth. The ravaging comps hissed and growled as they clambered and fed.

Earl lay motionless as Page and Robinson approached. They were both disturbed by the sight of him being eaten alive and not fighting back in the least. It was like watching a zombie film with little, green, dinosaur zombies. Page and Robinson dove their arms in and tore away the comps two at a time with their fists. They threw the dinosaurs as far as they could, but it was like keeping gulls away from a seafood dumpster. The comps kept coming back again and again, and there were more emerging from the trees with each passing moment.

Robinson began feeling desperate. As brutal an act as it was, he started snapping their necks like chickens, just to keep them from coming back. Two of the comps clawed their way up his arm and bit at his neck. He swatted them away, but now that his blood was drawn, the little dinosaurs seemed equally interested in him. Three more scurried up his arm, biting and clawing the whole way. He brushed them aside in a frenzy, but a dozen more were already climbing his pants and torso. They were up his back, on his neck, and in his hair. The comps bit at his face and throat, sinking their teeth on any open patch of skin they could find.

Robinson tore them away one after the next until his body was rid of them. More circled around his ankles and he kicked them with his boot. Page took out a pocket taser, extended its prongs with a flick of her wrist, and blasted the comps away with electric shocks.

"Dad! Dad!" Robinson heard a voice screaming. "Dad! Dad!"

Dallas and Shelly appeared. They dove into the scuffle without a second thought. Dallas sprawled over his father and started punching and ripping away the comps. Shelly scuffed the dirt at her feet with her sneakers, throwing loose gravel in the dinosaurs' direction.

The additional people seemed to dampen the aggression of the swarming compsognathus. They backed away but did not go far. The tiny dinosaurs maintained a snug encroachment on all sides.

Robinson staggered. He was feeling dizzy. His vision was going double. "What the shit?"

"They bit you." Page pointed to his arm and neck. "Comps carry a mild toxin that causes drowsiness and disorientation. One little nip won't do much, but the more they bite you, the stronger it gets." She could see that Robinson was looking concerned. "You'll be fine. It'll probably just feel like you're drunk." She hesitated. "The bad kind of drunk."

Robinson recalled that detail as she explained it. The toxin was how the comps subdued injured prey that were strong enough yet to put up a fight.

"Is my Dad gunna be ok?" Dallas was still huddled over his father protectively.

"We need to get him to the chopper," Page said.

At that moment there was a scream that cut through the jungle. It was high pitched, like that of a young woman. It faded for only a moment and then came back full force. It seemed as though someone was in definite danger. Everyone looked to the cabins. It was coming from somewhere beyond them.

Shelly said, "that sounds like Kyra!"

Page was already on the move. "I'll check it out."

"Page, wait!" Robinson called after her.

"Get him to the chopper." She yelled over her shoulder. She slipped between the cabins and a moment later was out of sight.

Robinson swore under his breath. "We shouldn't be splitting up." He crouched down to grab Earl by the shoulders. "Help me with your Dad," he said to Dallas. "Grab his ankles."

With a simultaneous grunt they picked him up. Dallas' end was barely keeping off the ground as they hauled him. His dad's butt kept dragging in the dirt. Robinson was pulling most of the weight and the compsognathus toxin was making everything twice as challenging for him.

To make matters worse the comps were closing in on them again. Shelly kicked her feet, threw gravel, and hollered, jumping in a circle around Dallas and Robinson.

Robinson's arms were getting heavy. His ankles felt increasingly like jello. Dallas was still dragging his end and moving slower with each step he took.

"Come on, kid!" Robinson grit his jaw.

Dallas forced himself to lift his dad's legs higher. Every muscle in his body burned. His father weighed nearly two hundred pounds.

They were passing by the commissary when Shelly let out a gasp of horror. She was looking directly at the helicopter. Robinson couldn't see what was happening because he had his back to the chopper. Dallas looked at the helicopter. His feet stopped right where they were. His eyes went wide.

Robinson's head was spinning. His knees were buckling. He was loosing all sense of spacial awareness. He twisted his neck with a cringe and looked over his shoulder. It almost made him topple. Even through the disorientation it was clear to him what he was looking at. The inside of the helicopter's cockpit was coated and dripping with blood. All the while screams of terror continued to pierce out of the jungle.