Footprints of Thunder (22 page)

The others turned to see Colter running in circles through the tall grass, yelling and chasing something through the meadow. Occasionally he stopped abruptly and leaned down with his arms outstretched. Petra began running toward him, though Dr. Piltcher called after her to wait. Dr. Coombs trailed after her, his well-conditioned body carrying him like a younger man as Dr. Piltcher stumbled along behind. Colter bent down again, jerked up and sprinted ahead, and then he dove, disappearing in the grass as a piglike squeal erupted. Then Colter came up on one knee, and then stood holding a squirming animal none of them had ever seen before.

It was eighteen inches in length, its skin a bright green. Colter held it by its thick tail—which was a third of its length—and its thick neck. Its head was a little larger than the neck, and the face resembled a parrot, with a beak that curved over the lower jaw. The eyes on either side of the head were covered with thick lids. Its two oversized back legs contrasted with two thin front ones. The animal was using its clawed front feet on Colter’s hand, and from Colter’s reaction the claws were sharp.

The others jogged up to Colter, staring openmouthed.

“What is that?” Petra asked.

“It’s an omithopod,” said Dr. Coombs, his voice bubbling with excitement.

“Psittacosaurus, I believe,” Dr. Piltcher added, just as excited. “But the color seems wrong. I wouldn’t have expected it to be this bright green.”

“Too bright by far, Chester,” Dr. Coombs agreed. “But notice, the color is fading. Like a chameleon perhaps?”

“I do believe you’re right, George. It seems to be adapting to the blue of Colter’s shirt.”

“Come on, you guys!” Colter hollered. “I can’t hold this thing forever. Do you want it or not?”

“Yes, of course we want to study it,” Dr. Piltcher said. “But what do we do with it?”

Without a better idea they led Colter to the RV, the creature struggling every step of the way. Then they decided to put the psittacosaurus in the back, where the beds were, and block off the front. They used the mattresses to create a wall, and then Colter leaned over and dropped the psittacosaurus on the other side. As soon as it hit the floor it stopped squealing and came up running. The little beast ran through the back of the RV on its two back legs, leaning forward with forelegs outstretched, looking for an escape route. The only way out, however, was past the mattresses, and the four heads peering over them. Still, the beast would not give up and its panic grew.

“The poor thing’s scared,” Petra said. “Maybe we better let it go.”

“No, not yet,” Dr. Piltcher pleaded. “I want to study it. Just for tonight. We can let it go in the morning.”

Petra’s conscience pricked her because the little animal was suffering. “Maybe we should give it something to eat,” Petra suggested.

Dr. Coombs suggested fruit or eggs, and Colter came up with a peach. They rolled it across the floor to the psittacosaurus, but it ignored the fruit and continued to search for an escape route.

“What did you call this thing again?” Colter asked.

“Psittacosaurus,” Dr. Coombs replied.

“Let’s just call it Sid,” Colter suggested. “How come I’ve never seen anything like Sid before?”

“Because,” Dr. Piltcher began with forced slowness, “they’ve been extinct since the Cretaceous age,”

“Wasn’t that prehistoric times?” Colter asked Dr. Piltcher. “Then what’s it doing here?”

With that one question Colter cut right through the fog of excitement that had clouded their thinking. What
was
it doing here?

Dr. Coombs and Dr. Piltcher retreated to the front of the RV and sat in the bucket seats. Colter and Petra followed, Colter a little put out that they hadn’t answered his question directly. Despite his naiveté, however, he
had
learned how to fit into the group, and knew it was time for him to fade into the background.

The others assumed their reflective poses and took turns looking at each other, waiting for someone to say what they were all thinking. All except Colter, who stood impatiently waiting. As usual Dr. Piltcher finger-combed his hair, and then spoke first.

“Well, we knew something was going to happen, but I admit I hadn’t considered this.”

“What
has
happened?” Petra asked.

Dr. Piltcher turned and smiled at Petra. In Dr. Piltcher’s eyes she could do no wrong, and he treated even her simplest questions with the same consideration that he gave to scholarly discussions.

“We must investigate further, of course. But from the primitive nature of the flowering plants in the meadow, and of course our friend the psittacosaurus, we seem to be sitting in a piece of the Cretaceous period. We anticipated some temporal dislocation, that fits with the theory, but I rather expected massive amounts of material falling out of the sky. Instead, we seem to have sitting all around us a piece of the past somehow transported to the present.”

“There is another possibility,” Dr. Coombs added. “We could be in a section of our present that has been transported to the past.”

Dr. Piltcher raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything for a full minute. Then he spoke with thoughtful deliberation.

“If we were transported, then a huge portion of land was transported with us. We drove through miles of it, not to mention the radio reports from afar. If that much has been transported to the past, then it makes little difference to us practically. The same would be true if this piece of the Cretaceous period is extensive, but again the radio reports suggest otherwise.”

“True enough, Chester, but it raises other interesting questions. If we are sitting on a piece of the Cretaceous period, complete with wildlife, then where is the land that it replaced? In the Cretaceous period? And more important, where are Mrs. Wayne and Ernie Powell?”

Dr. Piltcher was about to respond when a loud crunching sound broke up the conversation. Petra immediately turned and ran to the mattress barrier, motioning for the others to join her. They crowded together just in time to see the psittacosaurus bite down again on the peach pit. Nothing else of the peach remained. The pit broke in two.

“Sid’s got quite a bite,” Colter noted.

“Good thing he didn’t get hold of one of your fingers,” Petra said and then retrieved another peach from the refrigerator. “Here, Sid, knock yourself out,” she said, and tossed it to him.

Sid ran from the peach, trying to hide in a corner. He looked around fearfully, then defecated, leaving a wet gray pile of solids on the floor, then ran over to the peach. Sid sank his jaws into it and then carried it to a clean corner and began systematically biting off chunks while leaning back on his tail and holding the peach with his forearms. Deftly he rotated it between bites, working efficiently to pick the pit clean. Then, as before, used his jaws to break the pit in two. After breaking the pit into smaller pieces Sid tasted two, then ignored them. Though he remained in his corner he seemed less fearful now and watched his captors with his black eyes. Colter pulled a piece of bread from the bag, tore off the crust, and threw it to Sid, but the animal hesitated, looking around fearfully. Seeing no sudden movement in his captors he snatched up the crust, opened his beak and snapped it up. He didn’t hesitate to snatch up the second piece Colter gave him.

“See there, Chester,” Dr. Coombs said, “he’s blending into the brown of the background.”

“I do believe you’re right, George. I wonder how many species of the Cretaceous period had this ability?”

“Man, those turds stink,” Colter complained. “We should’ve put some paper down.”

Flinching, Dr. Piltcher opened his mouth to speak, but Petra cut him off.

“Outside! Something just ran by.”

They all piled out of the RV, scanning the meadow.

“There, that way!” Dr. Coombs shouted, pointing toward the hedge in the distance.

Bobbing up and down in the grass was a greenish, dome-shaped, seemingly disembodied head. They watched it moving closer to the tall bushes in the distance, when suddenly something ran between Dr. Coombs’s legs. It was Sid. Colter started after him but Dr. Piltcher called him back.

“Never mind, Colter. I wasn’t thinking clearly before. This isn’t about one psittacosaurus. This is about a whole new world.” Dr. Piltcher waved his arm at the jungle before him. “We need to explore it systematically.”

“And look for Mrs. Wayne and Ernie?” Petra asked, timidly.

“Of course, Petra. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive.”

Petra hugged his arm in response. Reddening, he quickly changed the subject. “Let’s make camp here. It’s not safe to move into the jungle until we know more about what’s out there, and there seem to be animals much larger than Sid.”

They jockeyed the RV around until it was level, and set up the canopy, a portable picnic table and lawn chairs. For shade they set up a tarp on poles and anchored it securely with ropes and stakes. Colter and Petra spread out looking for a supply of firewood; there was little wood in the desert, so they walked through the tall jungle grasses picking up branches.

“Hey, Petra, give me a hand with this.”

Petra turned to see Colter pushing a large limb up out of the grass. It seemed to be attached to a bigger limb. Colter was rocking it back and forth, judging its weight. If the two of them could move it back to camp, it would supply enough wood for a couple of days. Colter rocked it low and then pulled it up high again, putting his shoulder under the limb. When he pushed up hard, they heard a loud cracking sound, and Colter dropped the limb and dove into the grass.

“Colter? What are you doing?” Petra shouted.

“Here, look at this.”

Colter stood up holding something by its tail. Petra approached slowly. It was some kind of lizard, dark green and about eight inches long. Its tail was a third of the body, thick and stubby. It had four long limbs, the front and back pairs about the same length. The neck looked very thin and insubstantial, the head elongated with two large slits at the tip for nostrils. When it opened its mouth it revealed no teeth but white ridges, which it was trying to use on Colter.

“Is this one a baby or what?”

“Maybe it’s just a small dinosaur. Let’s take it to Dr. Piltcher.”

Colter carried the animal by its tail back to the camp, Petra trotting ahead to alert the others. Excited all over again, Dr. Piltcher set the mattresses back up to trap the new find in the back of the RV. As soon as Colter gently set the little dinosaur on the floor, it was off scampering around the enclosure looking for a way out.

“Well, Chester, this one has me beat. It’s clearly not local fauna but I don’t recognize it.”

“Nor I, George. You don’t suppose it’s a mussaurus?”

“I have to admit I’m not familiar with the species. Would this be a full-grown mussaurus?”

“If that’s what it is, yes. They didn’t get much longer than eight or ten inches.”

“Moose, kind of a funny name for a lizard this small,” Colter said. “I like it.”

Dr. Piltcher shook his head, taxed almost to the limit by Colter’s juvenile attitude and his need to nickname each new species. But he kept silent. The mussaurus continued to scramble around looking for a way out. Then it stopped and turned to face them. Dr. Piltcher could see its sides heaving. Suddenly it shot forward and scrambled up the mattresses in three quick leaps and onto Petra’s jeans. As Petra screamed, Dr. Coombs and Colter grabbed for the dinosaur. But it was too quick and darted under and up Petra’s shirt. Petra gasped as the clawed feet worked its way up her stomach. She clamped her hand down, trying to stop the mussaurus, but gently so not to hurt it.

“Aah! It hurts, help me get it out! It’s going around to my back!”

Dr. Coombs shoved his hand up the back of Petra’s shirt, embarrassed by the feel of her bare skin and bra strap. Petra kept gasping and flinching at the scratches from the scrambling claws.

“It’s going up to my shoulder! Look out everyone!” Petra shouted, and pushed the hands away. Then she reached down, pulling the shirt up and over her head. Suddenly exposed, the lizard froze, and then darted down the front. Now Dr. Piltcher’s hand shot out and pinned the dinosaur between the cups of Petra’s bra. He flushed but seized the animal. Immediately, Petra pulled her shirt back over her head, noticing the only one without a red face was Colter.

As the dinosaur clamped its jaws on Dr. Piltcher’s thumb, the professor dropped it. Free again, the dinosaur scrambled up a wall and onto the small space on top of the cabinets.

“Old Moose is a handful,” Colter said. “Copped “a feel of Petra and then took on someone a hundred times his size. Want me to get him down out of there?”

“No.” Dr. Piltcher said. “It’s not worth the risk. Let’s just wait outside with the door open. He’ll leave on his own accord.”

“Don’t you want to study him some more?” Colter asked with a smirk.

They worked outside for the rest of the afternoon. When supper time approached they found Moose still on top of the cabinet. They tried catching him again, but this time Dr. Coombs ended up with a nipped finger. Finally they gave up.

They agreed they might attract too many unknown animals by cooking outside, so Dr. Coombs prepared spaghetti and meatballs in the camper. When dinner was ready, they settled down in the cramped RV, but halfway through dinner, some thing banged against the door. Petra got up and looked out the window but could see nothing. Then it banged again. Petra opened the door slowly, all of them watching curiously. She was about to close the door again when a small dinosaur trotted into view, then out again, and then back. Then another one trotted into view behind the first. One of the dinosaurs was Sid. He had come for dinner, and he had brought a friend.