Footprints of Thunder (42 page)

Ellen watched as the men pulled their rifles and checked the load,

“Leave it alone!” Ellen shouted. “If that’s a dinosaur, it’s the last of its kind. You can’t kill it. Let’s just leave it alone.”

“Who asked you?” Kishton snapped. “I say whoever nails it gets dibs on its head.”

The rest of the guys cheered and yelled, “All right.”

“I don’t
know
about this,” Coop added. But he looked nervously at Carl and the other guys, and whatever he was going to say withered away under their gaze.

“She’s right, boys,” Angie cut in. “That dinosaur is worth a lot more alive than dead.”

The mention of money slowed them down until Carl spoke,

“Hell, there’s more where that one came from.”

Excited, the men jump-started their bikes and were off, bumping across the rough terrain. Only Coop and Carl hung back, Carl fixing Coop with a piercing stare.

“You one of us or not, Coop?”

“You know I’m with you, Carl,” Coop said weakly. But it was becoming clear to Ellen that Coop had bought his way into this group with his knowledge of the dinosaur.

Poor, nerdy, Coop was beginning to look like Ellen felt. The deeper they got into the forest, and further from civilization, the less civilized the “guys” were.

The dinosaur hunt was on. Briefly, the creature watched the cycles coming toward it, then it bolted in the other direction. As it ran, Ellen watched intently. Running on two legs, it was faster than a man—about eight feet tall with long forelegs and a domed head.

The cyclists split up, racing to each side of the running dinosaur, trying to cut it off before it reached the forest. One cyclist, burly, balding Butler, who seldom spoke, skidded to a stop and fired his rifle. The shot missed, but the sound made the running dinosaur bolt to the right, forcing Kishton to swerve. As he did he clipped a clump of ferns, and the front wheel of the bike buried into the patch, launching him over the handlebars.

Butler fired again, and this time the dinosaur dropped to its knees, skidding and then bouncing onto its long neck. Now Butler jumped on his bike and raced after the remaining cyclists as they closed in, but before they could shoot him again the dinosaur was up and racing toward the trees. Too far away to see the action, Coop started up his bike, Angie climbing on behind him. But Carl made no move to follow, and Ellen had no intention of squeezing up behind him unless she absolutely had to.

The motorcyclists cut the dinosaur off again, and it raced toward the center of the clearing. Anguished, Ellen could see blood running down its right rear leg. She gave up hope of saving it and wished now they would kill it and get it over with. But the bikers were enjoying the hunt.

The dinosaur circled back toward Carl and Ellen, coming straight for them. Ellen had a good view now as the dinosaur closed on them, but suddenly another shot rang out, and the dinosaur went down, dropping onto its right side and struggling to get up. Its back legs seemed to be working but the front ones could not support its weight, and they collapsed, creating a pivot, and the dinosaur went into a spin.

The animal’s blood soaked the ground as it flattened a circle of grass, going round and round. The hunters gathered, pointing and laughing at the spectacle—until Coop joined them.

Coop got off his bike, angrily confronting Bobby, who pushed his face within inches of Coop’s and began shouting. Angie wrapped her arms around Coop’s waist and pulled him back, then Bobby said something that made the others laugh. The hunters went back to enjoying the dinosaur’s struggle. After Angie and Coop talked for a second, Coop turned, pulled his revolver, and emptied it into the dinosaur.

The hunters jumped back at the sound of the revolver and watched—then they turned on him.

Even from this distance Ellen could feel their anger. Ellen started forward, fearing for Angle’s safety, but a rough grip on her arm stopped her.

“Let ‘em party,” Carl smirked, pulling Ellen toward him.

Ellen put her hands on Carl’s chest and pushed. Leering, Carl wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled. He was strong and could have pulled her flat up against him, but the cruel look in his eyes told Ellen he was enjoying her struggle. Then Carl began to exert more pressure, drawing Ellen toward him. Suddenly, he dropped his hand, wrapping it around her bottom and pulling her hips tight up against his. He held her there briefly and then began grinding his hips against hers.

“Stop it, Carl! Let me go.”

“Where you going? They’re done huntin’. Nuthin’ left to see.”

“I’ve got to find my son.”

“Lady, ain’t it clear to you yet? There’s nuthin’ here. It’s all gone, the city, the people … your son. Looks like you’re gonna need another. I’ll be glad to help you make one,”

As Carl shifted his weight, bending her over backward, he tripped her. Ellen crashed to the ground with him on top. She could smell the liquor on his breath again. His eyes still looked cruel and his lips still sneered. Now Ellen began to struggle again and pounded on the sides of his head. As he yelped and jerked back to protect his face, Ellen pounded harder.

“Get off me!” she screamed.

Carl wasn’t laughing now, he was dodging blows—then Ellen heard someone else laughing.

“Carl, looks like you bit off more than you can chew there.”

Ellen stopped pounding and Carl dropped his hands to see Kishton watching them. He’d fallen in the sharp-edged grass and bled from dozens of cuts. His face, shirt, and pants were torn and blood soaked.

“Beat it, Kishton, I’m busy,” Carl snarled.

Ellen realized Carl’s ego was wounded. After all, Kishton had seen him getting slapped around by a woman. Now Carl would retaliate. Before Kishton could decide whether to leave or watch, Coop came roaring up. Angie immediately jumped off and helped Ellen off the ground. Without a word to Carl, she just pulled Ellen off to one side, asking if she was okay.

Coop looked angry. “What the hell were you doing, Carl? We’re here to assist her in locating her boy, remember? You perpetrate something like that again and I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Arrest me? You see any fuckin jails around here? Shee-it, you’re not even a real deputy.”

“Am so. I’m a reserve officer—”

“Coop, you ain’t nuthin’ but a pain in Sheriff Peter’s ass. The only reason he keeps you around is cause me and the boys won’t work for the slave wages he pays you. Are you that stupid, Coop? He’s offered me, Kishton here, and nearly every one of the others your job at one time or another. Ain’t that right, Kishton? I’ll tell you something else, Coop, I’m thinkin’ we don’t need you anymore. We got the dinosaur. Just what else are you good for?”

His tone sounded final, and Angie and Ellen pulled each other closer. Coop had never had much authority, and even that was eroding fast. If they sent Coop back, or worse, nothing would keep Carl from Ellen. Coop was watching nervously to see if Kishton would intervene. They were interrupted by the grisly sight of Butler roaring up with the head of the dinosaur strapped to the back of his motorcycle. The others followed, each with a dinosaur leg strapped to the back of his bike.

“You call that baby a dinosaur?” Ellen asked. All heads turned toward her.

“Baby?” Butler said, jerking his head toward the head on the back of his bike. “You call this mother a baby?”

“That’s right,” Ellen continued, “they grow much bigger than this. Some of them are as big as a three-story building. They come so big, that I doubt you’re man enough to bring one down. Isn’t that right, Coop? I bet you could find us a bigger one, couldn’t you, Coop?”

Angie chimed in. “I’ve seen these things in movies and I know they come bigger than this. Did you ever see that King Kong movie? Think they get that big, Coop?”

No one was listening to Coop’s answer. The men were talking among themselves. Someone dug a bottle of Old Crow out of a saddlebag and they started passing it around, reliving the hunt and planning the next one. As they talked Carl gave Ellen a look that said there was unfinished business between them.

After the men fortified themselves they were back on the cycles. Ellen had only two choices, and she swallowed back her fear and climbed up behind Carl. Angie gave her a look that said she would trade places, but Ellen couldn’t do it to her. Besides, Ellen thought, Angie seemed to be handling Coop quite well, and they needed whatever control over the guys he had left.

John felt as if they had been walking for hours when Cubby finally stopped again.

“Something’s not right, John. We should be to Portland by now. This is where we saw it.”

John looked around but recognized nothing. He could tell they were down in a valley, since hills were visible to the right and left, covered with tumbled-down trees. The forest was thick, but it looked level. Was it the Willamette valley? Cubby was sure of it, and John, as usual, trusted Cubby’s instincts better than his own.

“Maybe it’s just a little farther ahead,” John suggested. Cubby pursed his lips considering.

“I don’t know, John, we should at least be able to see those skyscrapers.” Cubby looked around intently. Then he pointed up at the hill to the south. “Let’s climb up to those fallen trees. Maybe we can get a look around from up there.”

John hesitated, then followed Cubby, though his stomach was rumbling, and his muscles complaining. After another crested hill, he was just about to quit when they came to a clearing amidst fallen timber. Trees lay every which way, and their roots and crowns towered into the air, blocking the view. They worked their way to where the hill dropped off sharply, then climbed the jagged roots of a big tree and stood on the top of the trunk. They had an unobstructed view of the valley, its floor a forest with clearings sprinkled here and there. In the middle of the valley was Portland, wispy and still shimmering, but undeniably there. Cubby and John shouted and whooped and jumped up and down. Then Cubby gave another shout and whoop and pointed to the south of the city. John looked, at first seeing nothing but buildings and trees. But then he spotted it. Separated from the city by a stretch of suburbs was a. hill, and shimmering and flickering on its crest was Cubby’s church. John stared, then looked for his house. He knew there was no way he could see it from here but he looked anyway.

“Thank you Lord Jesus for delivering us,” Cubby prayed aloud. John whispered an amen silently to himself. Enthralled with the feeling that something good was about to happen, they stood there staring at the church. Soon, John’s thoughts were interrupted by a roar—not the roar of a dinosaur, but the distant roar of a jet.

Spotting it, he watched it arc across the sky above Portland; then it was gone. John tried to estimate the distance to the church and then looked at his watch. It was nearly eleven o’clock. He was sure they wouldn’t make the church by nightfall, but like Cubby, he was willing to give it a try.

They rushed into the forest, recklessly hiking toward their destination. Still tired and hungry, but like racers nearing a finish line, they found reservoirs of strength. The forest on the valley floor was thin, with little underbrush. They still had to dodge razor grass and walk around giant clumps of ferns, but they made good time. At one point when they heard something big moving through the trees, they hid in the undergrowth, lying flat and praying that dinosaurs have a poor sense of smell. Soon the sound moved off in another direction, and the boys quickly got back on track.

John watched the sun sinking lower and lower as they walked and began to get nervous. Here the vegetation was sparse. They’d have difficulty finding a place to hide for the night. John heard the distant roar of another jet and looked at the sky, but couldn’t spot the plane. As the roar of the jet engines faded he heard the familiar sound of motors. Someone was driving through the forest.

“People, Cubby. Listen, I can hear people.”

“You’re right. Maybe we’re near the edge of the city.” They listened, trying to locate the sounds, which suddenly died. Cubby pointed in their direction and led off through the trees at a quick pace.

They stopped in the creek bed while Bobby climbed the bank again. The rough terrain had made Ellen’s sore bottom burn with pain, and she was glad Carl finally stopped. Bobby had just disappeared when they heard a shout.

“I’ll be damned. You’ve got to see this. Come on up here.” Following Bobby’s track up the bank, they found themselves in a large clearing. There, shimmering faintly in the background, was the Portland skyline. Ellen felt hope flood her body. She had been slowly reconciling herself to the loss of her son—but maybe, just maybe, there was hope.

Now John felt better. If they were near the edge of the city he could catch a ride to his house and spend the night there. John and Cubby found themselves climbing yet another hill, a gradual one so the climbing was easy. On the other side, the trees thinned, and they found themselves staring into a large clearing.

Near the far edge were parked several motorcycles. Eight people stood near the bikes, and even from this distance, John could tell two were women, and one seemed familiar. When she moved he knew it was his mother.

“It’s my mom,” he said, starting past Cubby into the clearing. Cubby’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Wait, John, something’s not right.”

Maybe it was the motorcycles—John and Cubby had seen many biker movies—or maybe they’d developed natural caution in the forest. But John and Cubby just stood and watched.

* * *

Ellen and Angie were excited by the presence of the city, but the guys seems disappointed, and even angry.

“Thought you were going to find us a mama dinosaur, Coop,” Carl said in a threatening tone.

“Yeah,” Kishton added menacingly. Ellen could see that some of the razor grass cuts were still bleeding. “I missed out on the first hunt, and I came out here looking for some excitement.”

He was off his bike and approaching Coop, who urged Angie off, then confronted Kishton.

“I found you one dinosaur, I didn’t say I could find you two.”

“Well that’s not good enough, Coop. If you can’t find dinosaurs for us, just what the hell are you good for?”