Authors: James F. David
—Caller to Cat Bellow’s
Radio Rebel
show
Present Time
Near Hillsdale, Florida
Jeanette pounded the last nail into the box she built to hold the chicks. She had nailed eight 2 x 6 boards into two simple boxes, using scrap to make braces to hold one box on top of the other. Jeanette was proud of the simple structure. The box ended up eight feet by eight feet because that was the size of the boards she found behind the barn.
“Pretty good,” Jeanette declared, putting the hammer back into Carson’s tool belt.
Jeanette had had to cut new holes in the belt to get it to fit around her waist, and that would irritate Carson. Carson jealously guarded his tools, and Jeanette took great pleasure in modifying his tool belt and then using the tools. Wearing an old yellow tank top with tears and paint stains, a pair of old tattered shorts, and the tool belt, Jeanette looked like Daisy Mae of Dogpatch.
Sally got up, coming to sniff the box. Jeanette spread a layer of fresh straw in the bottom, and then began transferring the velociraptor chicks. Most were asleep, huddled in a pile, comforted by each other’s warmth. Picking one chick up in each hand, Jeanette gently lifted them up and down as she moved them, weighing them.
“They’re getting big,” Jeanette said to Sally.
Sally nuzzled one of the chicks. Eyes open, the chick chirped softly, only half awake. Still stuffed from the morning’s Alpo breakfast, the chicks were only half conscious. Putting one down, Jeanette studied the other. The chicks had lost some of their purplish color, their skin now blotchy with gray patches. The chick’s head still seemed disproportionately large to Jeanette, but the body was bigger and the legs longer. Jeanette stroked the chick several times, then drew her hand down the length of the chick’s tail. The chick let out several satisfied pants as she did. Examining the velociraptor’s hands, Jeanette felt the taut skin that stretched over the three fingers. Each finger ended in a small claw that was covered with skin. Jeanette noticed the tip of the claw protruding farther from the skin covering than just yesterday. Looking at the feet, Jeanette found one of the claws much larger than the others, and most of its tip was exposed. Gently putting the chick in the new enclosure, Jeanette finished transferring the remaining chicks.
“Time to name them, Sally,” Jeanette said. “We need seven names. Let’s see. Snow White had seven dwarfs. Happy, Sneezy, Doc, Bashful, Grumpy, Sleepy, and Dopey. Yeah, I think that’s all of the names.” Looking at the sleeping chicks, Jeanette said “I couldn’t name one of them Dopey. That would be cruel. What else has seven names? Santa has eight or nine reindeer. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Cupid … A velociraptor named Cupid? I don’t think so.”
Kneeling, Jeanette leaned on the edge of the box, watching the velociraptor chicks sleep. Occasionally, each chick would let out a small sigh or soft peep. Jeanette noticed the voices of the chicks were different. Larger chicks had deeper tones than the smaller chicks.
“Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti,” Jeanette sang. “That’s seven names.”
Sally leaned over the edge of the box, Jeanette scratching her head. After hand-feeding the chicks for days, Jeanette knew them intimately.
“You are Do,” Jeanette said. “You are next largest, so you are Re, and you are Mi.”
As she pronounced the names, Jeanette’s pitch changed, just as it did in the scale. “Ti” was said with the highest pitch.
“Sleep tight, Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti,” Jeanette said, virtually singing the names.
As she returned to the office, one of Jeanette’s phones rang. It was the Dinosaur Wrangler phone.
“Dinosaur Wrangler, how can we help you?” Jeanette said mechanically.
“This is Maury Dillman calling from the Super Eight in Ocala? I am trying to reach Carson Wills?”
“Aren’t we all,” Jeanette said.
“Excuse me?” Dillman said.
“I’m Mr. Wills’s executive assistant. What do you need from Mr. Wills?” Jeanette asked.
“Well, we have not seen Mr. Wills since he checked in, but he does not seem to be using his room. He has not checked out, and his van has not moved since he parked it.”
“You haven’t seen Mr. Wills at all?”
“Not since he flew away in the helicopter,” Dillman said.
“Helicopter?” Jeanette probed.
“Yes, the marines took him away.”
Jeanette gasped. People were supposed to turn in Visitors, not get arrested for it. And why would the marines be involved?
“Should we continue to keep the room for Mr. Wills?” Dillman asked.
“You’re still charging his card for the room?” Jeanette asked.
“Yes, Mr. Wills has not checked out.”
“It’s a company card,” Jeanette said. “Stop charging today. Mr. Wills is no longer staying there.”
“His luggage is still in the room.”
“I’ll send someone to collect it,” Jeanette said.
“And the van? It can’t be parked here if he is not a guest.”
“The van will be picked up too.”
“If you send someone before noon, we will not charge for today,” Dillman said, sounding magnanimous.
Hanging up on Dillman, Jeanette called Lymon Norris, one of the men who worked for the Dinosaur Wrangler company.
“Lymon, how are you doing with that
Monoclonius
?”
“Not so good,” Lymon said. “I got it back in the pen, but then it broke out the other side. It’s a wood corral. Can you believe it? These dumb sonsofbitches built a wood corral for a fucking
Mono
. You think Carson could come on out and lend me a hand?”
“Can’t,” Jeanette said. “He’s still in Ocala. Do the best you can.”
Jeanette called Robby Bryson next.
“Robby, are you free to make a run to Ocala?”
“Will be in about an hour or so. Just finishing up on that call about the oviraptor.”
“Was it a raptor?” Jeanette asked.
“Nah. It was an emu. No bull. It came off a farm that leases animals for TV shows, commercials, and shit like that.”
“It’s still five-hundred-dollar minimum,” Jeanette reminded Robby.
Robby had a soft heart and had been known to discount for old women and pretty girls. Jeanette was convinced that if she brushed up against Robby and followed up with a smile, Robby would kill for her.
“I told them,” Robby said. “They’re not happy, but they’ll pay.”
“When you get done, run over to the Super Eight in Ocala. Pick up Carson’s suitcase and the van. There’s a spare key under the back bumper. Get someone to go with you to drive it.”
“My cousin might go with me, but he won’t do it for free,” Robby said.
“Fifty dollars,” Jeanette said.
“Yeah, he’ll go for fifty. Where’s Carson?”
“Into something,” Jeanette said.
“Something big?”
“He better be,” Jeanette said.
“Come again?” Robby said.
“Just bring the van back. Get Carson’s suitcase too, and don’t forget to check Carson out of his room.”
“Seriously, Jeanette, where the hell is Carson?”
“God only knows,” Jeanette said.
Sally jumped up, stiffening, pointing at the door.
“I’ve got to go,” Jeanette said.
A shadow appeared on the screen door, and then came three hard raps. Jeanette stiffened, suspicious. Virtually all the Dinosaur Wrangler business came over the phone. Rarely, an unhappy customer would visit the office, but there had been no recent complaints. With grumpy customers, Carson handled the women and Jeanette the men. Jeanette waited behind the desk, one arm dangling toward a wooden box on the floor. The box held a few files and at the bottom, a revolver.
“Come,” Jeanette said.
A young man stepped in. He wore beige Dockers and a light blue polo shirt and sandals. His hair was black, his nose small, even delicate. It took Jeanette a second to recognize him.
“Officer Wilson,” Jeanette said, standing. “This can’t be good.”
“No, it’s good,” he said nervously.
Officer Wilson’s eyes quickly scanned Jeanette, from her stained short-shorts to her tool belt to the tank top with tears that turned it into a peekaboo shirt. Not expecting visitors, Jeanette had not bothered with a bra. Officer Wilson was having trouble keeping his eyes on her face.
“I just came by to update you and see if you needed anything,” Officer Wilson said.
“Are you working undercover?” Jeanette asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“No, I’m off duty. I was passing by and I thought I would stop in and make sure everything is okay.”
“You live near here?” Jeanette asked.
“Not right near here,” Officer Wilson said, “but it’s not that far out of my way.”
“Well, thanks, Officer Wilson, I appreciate your concern.”
Worried that if she put her body in motion, it would be too much for Officer Wilson, Jeanette held still, her hands still on her hips.
“Les,” Officer Wilson said. “My name is Les.”
“Les,” Jeanette said.
“Are you fixing something?” Officer Wilson said, using the tool belt as an excuse to scan her body again.
“I’m all done,” Jeanette said.
“So, you run the office, and do the repairs, and everything? What about your boyfriend?” Les said, looking around.
“He’s out on a job,” Jeanette said. “You said something about an update?”
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I’m sure there’s no problem, but I thought you should know that a couple of the guys we arrested have a pretty sharp lawyer. He’s making a big deal out of the fact I impersonated a code inspector. It’s a bogus argument. I don’t think a judge will buy it.”
“What would it mean if a judge did buy it?” Jeanette asked.
“It’s not going to happen, but if it did, it might mean some of the evidence would be kicked.”
“And that would mean?” Jeanette probed.
“Well, it could mean the charges would have to be dropped.”
“And they would be released?” Jeanette asked.
“It won’t happen,” Les said.
Jeanette shook her head in disbelief. The mess next door had nothing to do with her, but somehow she was being drawn into the middle of it.
“Officer Wilson … Les, maybe you should give me your phone number again. I lost your napkin.”
“Yeah, sure,” Les said, frantically searching pockets for a piece of paper.
Jeanette bent over, taking a yellow pad and pen from the box on the floor. Les gawked as she bent and then stood again. Distracted, Les only managed to take the pad and pen from Jeanette after two tries. Les wrote his number and then wrote it a second time underneath in clearer handwriting.
“If you need me for anything, please call,” Les said. “Anything.”
“I’ll keep the number,” Jeanette said, sticking it to a bulletin board already papered with a blizzard of scraps.
“Anything,” Les repeated.
Jeanette could not help but smile at the nervous policeman. When she did, revealing the gap in her teeth, Les beamed.
15
Strangers
T. rex
is an almost perfect killing machine. With large feet and powerful legs, it can reach speeds of up to 35 mph on open ground. Its massive jaws are so powerful, it could bite through the frill of a triceratops. As we have seen in the preserves, the only animal a
T. rex
has to fear is another
T. rex.
—John Roberts, OSS, Director of Field Operations
Unknown Time
Neverland
Jacob and Crazy Kramer ran until they could not run anymore, and then climbed a tree to spend the night. Once in the forest, the Community had scattered, disappearing in deep shadows. It was hours since Jacob had seen anyone other than Crazy. Worried about his family, Jacob could only hope they had found a haven. Night in the forest was bad, but the dawn energized the carnivores, which were very efficient eating machines.
Impatient to find his family, Jacob climbed down when there was barely enough light to see.
“Damn, what a night,” Crazy said, dropping out of the tree and landing with a loud thud. Covered in dried blood—some of it his own—a strip of cloth tied around his head to keep his hair out of his eyes, and wielding a machete, Crazy Kramer was the stuff of nightmares.
“So, where do you think everyone else is?” Crazy asked.
“Shhhh!” Jacob said.
Crazy Kramer was a mixed blessing. Strong and fearless, Crazy was the man to have next to you in a fight. Unfortunately, Crazy was also dumb and reckless.
“Right,” Crazy said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Where to?”
“The rendezvous,” Jacob said.
“Right,” Crazy said in his near whisper.
As fanatical as the reverend was, he also had a sensible streak and planned for contingencies. If catastrophe befell the Community, they were to find their way to an old church in the ruins of the city. This church was one of the few buildings that had not collapsed when they came to the land of dinosaurs, and had not burned in one of the subsequent fires. The church was a survivor, like the people of the Community, and that made the building special to most, but the church held special significance to the reverend. The reverend’s father had been pastor of the church.
Leading the way, his rifle always ready, Jacob walked carefully through the forest, avoiding open areas. Keeping a westerly direction, he watched for landmarks to guide him to the church, where he hoped his family was waiting. The problem was that it was years since Jacob had been to the church, and between the fires, earthquakes, and ever-expanding forest, less and less of the city could be found. Only the reverend, who did an annual pilgrimage, would be certain of the way.
Jacob tried to stay vigilant, but thoughts of Leah and his girls kept intruding. Where were they? Were they trying to find their way through the forest to the rendezvous just like Jacob, but without a rifle or even Crazy Kramer for protection? Because of his worrying, Jacob missed the first sounds of trouble.
“You hear that?” Crazy Kramer asked.
Jacob stopped, listening. Something was coming.
“Hide,” Jacob said.
Jacob and Crazy hid behind a clump of small trees, peering through leaves. Whatever was coming was coming fast, and coming right for them. Now the vibrations in the ground confirmed Jacob’s expectation. A predator was running down its prey. Jacob and Crazy hunkered down as the vibrations and noise signaled the nearest approach. Then bursting from the underbrush came four humans—humans Jacob had never seen before. In the lead was a young man, followed by a short bent man, then a fat woman, and finally a middle-aged man. All wore new-looking clothes, no beards, and were fat by Community standards. Exhausted, the shorter man stumbled, falling, tripping the woman, who fell on top of him, her mass swallowing him. The man in the rear paused, helping them to their feet. The young man in the front hesitated, and then ran back, helping drag the woman off the man underneath.