CHAPTER 85

As the battered pickup truck rounded the next switchback Seth caught his last glimpse of the island's inner valley and the herds of dinosaurs roaming within. His eyes sunk to the dashboard and then shifted to the speedometer. They were going slow, never more than twenty-five or thirty miles per hour at best. Especially when the road got rough, Dr. Conners was keeping it at a sluggish fifteen. Seth suspected it was because there was no windshield left to speak of, and the truck kept throwing up mud and rocks. Also, the chassis and axles kept wrenching with a metallic shriek at every bump like they were going to snap apart.

Seth saw his mom dart a glance at the speedometer as well. She gave a disapproving look. The whole car ride felt awkward and abrasive to Seth. No one had spoken a word, and he could feel the aggression boiling off his mom.

He glanced at Kyra. She had her head resting on her dad's shoulder and didn't seem to mind that she had to move every time he needed to shift gears or wrestle the steering wheel out of a mud rut. Although her eyes were closed Seth figured she couldn't possibly be asleep.

Having slipped deep into his thoughts he was startled when his mom shattered the verbal silence with a sour off hand comment, "Jesus, Bryce. Could you go any slower?"

Dr. Conners shifted his eyes but didn't say anything. Seth couldn't help but notice that the speed had not been adjusted in the least bit. His mom gave a heavy sigh and looked away. Seth didn't want to be near her, and that was an understatement. He felt like he didn't want to be anywhere on the island. Strangely he found himself wishing that he was back at his aunt's house in Rhode Island. He wanted to be locked in that upstairs room where no one was bothering him, and that was saying something, because he didn't like it there either. The truth was that at the moment he found that he would rather be depressed and alone than crammed in a rickety pickup truck next to his mom while she threw burning looks from him to Dr. Conners and then back to him again.

As the truck bounced over a rut Seth looked up in just enough time to see a long thin tree branch whip through the nonexistent windshield and slap everyone across the face. As its lush green leaves sprang away with a snap Kyra gave a high pitched gasp and jumped in her seat.

There was a moment where everyone else in the front of the truck was stunned. Between Seth, his mom, and Dr. Conners they all felt like swearing at the top of their lungs. It was as though the person they were mad at most in the vehicle was the one who had just slapped them in the face.

Seth's mom kicked the underside of the dashboard and turned to stare out the passenger window with icy eyes. Seth wanted to punch something but didn't. Kyra was still gasping. She still had no clue what had just happened.

"It's ok. You're alright." Dr. Conners calmed her down with a quiet voice. He put an arm around her and pulled her close.

Seth realized he was holding his breath in some kind of an angry fit. He relaxed and breathed. He just wanted to get out of the truck. He wondered how much longer it could possibly be before they reached the operations compound, because it was beginning to feel like an eternity.

The sun was beginning to set. Seth hadn't realized how late in the day it had become. He thought it was still some time in the mid afternoon, but indeed the western sky was beginning to glow red with a sinking sun.

The truck was very near to the base of the mountain ridge when the radio crackled with a voice.

"Hello? Dr. Johnson? Dr. Conners?"

Everyone gave the radio a look as though they were surprised it still worked.

It crackled again, "Do you read me? Over."

"Dianna, do you mind?" Dr. Conners made the request with unmistakable reluctance toward having to ask anything of her under the current circumstances.

Dianna let out a heavy breath, rolled her eyes, and swiped up the receiver. She almost knocked Seth into the shift knob in the process.

"What?" Her voice was short and irritated.

Ms. Bolton was again the one on the other end. She could tell Dr. Johnson's mood was volatile, and she proceeded with a hint of hesitance. "We have a problem."

Bryce and Dianna exchanged glances across the truck. It was as though their feud had promptly dissipated in anticipation of having to deal with whatever was about to come next.

Dianna clicked the receiver. Her demeanor was focused now. "What's going on?"

"You need to go to the emergency bunker and retrieve the others."

Dianna barely let her finish, "we can't. It's too dangerous. There's no way we're going there now. They'll be safe until we can get another chopper in." Her eyes went to Bryce. They were both exchanging confused expressions over the idea that this had all been discussed a while ago.

Ms. Bolton cut back in, "I don't think we can wait that long. I just got off the phone with Shelly. It sounds like Mr. Robinson is having a severe allergic reaction to the compsognathus venom." There was a slight pause. "His throat is swelling closed, and he won't regain consciousness."

Bryce and Dianna were exchanging more looks. Dianna took her finger off the radio receiver.

Bryce was the first to speak, "that's never happened before."

Dianna was shaking her head. "There's no telling how much time he has. He could be dead before we get there." Dianna was struggling with her conscious. She could tell that Bryce was having the same dilemma. "We've got six people in this truck." She lowered her voice as though to protect Kyra and Seth from hearing, but it was an obvious futile attempt. "We might not make it back as it is."

"Dianna, please." He was taken back that she was speaking like that in front of the kids.

Just then Ms. Murdock poked her head through the back window. "I agree with Dr. Johnson. I'm going to have to insist that we continue straight back to the operations compound without any detours. There's no room here for another foolish decision, Dr. Conners. This is survival, remember? You can't risk eight people over one man."

Dianna was reading Bryce's face. She could tell his mind was made up, and she couldn't deny that she felt the same despite her logical sense of judgement. She settled back in her seat and muttered, "shit."

Ms. Murdock was reading Dr. Conner's face the same way. She was desiring very much to be the one behind the wheel at that point. She punched the bed liner and sat back.

"Shit."