by Jill Myles
But then what?
Shivering, I huddled under the flight jacket and watched the moon rise. I was thankful to be alive, no mistake...but I wasn’t sure what to do now.
Over time, the island grew noisier. The change was slow to build, but it seemed that the darker it grew, the louder the quiet beach became. A cacophony of noises reached my ears – the chitter of birds, the sounds of the bushes rustling, and low, strange bellows echoing in the distance that I couldn’t make out. Cattle? Oxen? On an island? Uneasy, I rubbed my arms and moved a bit further up atop the jet.
That was when I saw the tiny lizards. I’d almost missed them, so small and just about the same color as the beach. About the same size and shape as chickens, they ran about the beach in a small pack, cheeping and raising their heads, examining the wreckage of the airplane.
Charmed despite my circumstances, I smiled for the first time that day. They were so cute. I snapped my fingers, trying to get their attention. “Here, kitty kitty.” Sure, it wasn’t a cat, but the way it cocked it’s head so inquisitively made the phrase spring to mind. “Do you like pretzels?” I snapped my fingers a few more times, and one looked up at me, cocking its inquisitive head.
It peeped at me, then wandered away. They all seemed to be concentrating on the far end of the wreckage, and I slid out to the edge of the wing to see what was going on, my view hidden by a rocky outcropping. What I saw chilled me to my core. The tiny, cute lizards were crawling over the dead captain’s body, ripping at what was left and devouring it. They swarmed over it like rats.
Revolted, I got to my feet. I couldn’t let it happen. It didn’t matter that the man was dead and his other half was splattered across the cockpit. He didn’t deserve to be eaten, nor could I sit to watch. “Shoo!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Go away!” It didn’t work; neither did waving my hands frantically in the air. The things ignored me like I wasn’t there, maddened by the smell of carrion. It was like watching a miniature pack of sharks go to work.
I had to do something. I hopped down from the wing and stormed across the sands, taking the jacket off my shoulders and shaking it like a matador cape. “Get out of here,” I bellowed. “Shoo! Get!”
The little lizards couldn’t be pried away until I smacked them with the jacket, and I spent a lot of time shaking it in their faces and kicking them away, all the while careful to watch my step so as not to step on the half-eaten legs of the pilot. The tiny lizards snapped at me and gave a flurry of protesting chirps, but it was like trying to chase away the tide. I’d shoo away a handful, and they’d run back around to the other side and congregate there, until I chased them away again. Frustrated, I dropped the jacket and shook my head. “What am I going to do now? I can’t let you eat him.”
One of the vile little creatures ran over my foot, racing past me. Irritated, I shifted in the sand, scowling at the long score his claws had left on my already raw skin. The little bastard had nearly ripped my foot open running away...
Running...away?
Puzzled, I watched as the little lizards scattered down the beach, disappearing against the sand and melting into the shadows as if they’d never been here. “Huh,” I said to myself, planting my hands on my hips. “That’s weird.” After all, I hadn’t scared them one bit. I wondered what it would take to frighten those creatures enough to scurry away...
The moment the thought crossed my mind, the hackles on the back of my neck stood.
Thump…thump…
Thump thump.
I turned, slowly.
An enormous, toothy lizard on its hind legs stood about a hundred feet down the beach, sniffing at the sand and flicking its tail like an angry cat. The head was grossly oversized, the front legs shrunken and pulled against the front chest, but the claws on the feet were enough to make me feel faint as the creature continued down the beach, heading in my direction.
Thump…thump…
Thump thump.
I could feel the ground quake under my feet with every thump that his feet made in the sand. Every heavy thump was a footfall.
A dinosaur.
On the beach.
A big, fucking, Tyrannosaurus Rex on the damn beach.
I’d lost my mind.
CHAPTER THREE
I screamed.
It was the wrong thing to do, of course. The creature turned towards me, beady eyes gleaming, and he swayed on his feet, nostrils sniffing the air. Thump, thump. His feet crashed on the ground with each movement. Thump. Thump. He moved closer, and I took a step backward, nearly tripping over the bloody half of the pilot.
Thump, thump. The tail swished as the creature lowered his head and began to move forward again, sniffing the air. I stepped over the body and retreated a few more steps, trying to determine if the T-Rex was coming to check out the pilot’s remains like the others, or if it was hunting me.
I stepped to the side.
His eyes followed me, and the dinosaur moved forward a few more steps, trying to be stealthy, like a cat hunting its prey. Thump thump thump thump.
Shiiiiiit. I was his prey.
I turned and ran. The staccato beats that shook the ground behind me told me that it had decided to chase me. Thump thump thumpthumpthumpthump.
My hands clawed for the airplane door and I slipped inside moments before the creature’s jaws snapped. The plane had landed on its side when it had crashed, and as a result, everything in the cabin was tilted at a ninety-degree angle. I landed on something loose – a seat belt? – and fell, face first, into the cabin. My chin banged against something hard and metal and square, and my head reeled. I picked myself up, breathing hard.
Something hot and wet spattered on my leg, and I got to my knees, crouching and wondering what it was. I looked up at the door, moonlight silhouetting the large, alien jaws that hovered over the door itself, drool dripping down and landing on me. As I watched, a long, disgusting tongue slithered out of the mouth and licked the edges of the doorframe, testing it.
I cringed against one of the seats. He couldn’t get to me. Maybe if I didn’t move, he’d go away.
No luck; I heard it snuffling about the door, testing the metal and licking to determine how to get its prey out of the hole it had hidden itself in. It was trying to puzzle out the situation, figure out how to flush me out.
The T-Rex crunched down against the metal of the door, and when it didn’t peel back, I heard it bellow in outrage and shake its head like a dog would with a chew-toy. The plane rocked and I stumbled backward, losing my footing.
Encouraged, the Tyrannosaur grabbed the edge of the door with its teeth again and began to shake once more, the entire wreckage trembling. The remnant of the broken plane I hid in wasn’t very long, and the far end had broken off at some point. If he figured out that tipping the plane a bit more would mean I would fall out the other end, I was a goner. The plane shook again, and when I fell back against the chairs, I looked up at the bloody cockpit.
It was the only place left for me to go. I climbed up, ignoring the fact that my hands slid on sticky, slimy things, and pried my body upward, clinging to broken seat-belts and doors and chairs still rooted to the floor. I managed to pry myself into the small cabin, ignoring the dead half of the pilot, and curled up in a small nook, tucking my legs close to me and staring up at the spattered windows, waiting for the sun to rise.
Please, I thought. I’m sorry I was so ungrateful for being left alive. I promise I’ll never ask for anything ever again if you make the damn thing go away.
The T-Rex shook the plane again, and then gave a snort of frustration. The plane stilled. My heart hammered in my throat, and I wondered if it had gone away for good. I stayed frozen in place. If I kept quiet enough, maybe it would leave.
An ear-splitting roar hit my ears, and as I watched, the creature leaned over the front of the aircraft, peering into the broken window and sniffing the glass. I froze, watching as that horrible tongue snaked out again, touching the edges of the broken window and ta
sted the pilot’s blood. My heart sank – he’d never leave now.
I shrank back further, realizing that my great idea of hiding in the cockpit had turned out to be even worse. If he noticed that I was here, I was within eating distance. All he’d have to do is bust through the glass and I’d be dead. I burrowed against the back of the plane, not caring that it was sticky with gore. I couldn’t scream anymore — I was too terrified.
Something hard and flat poked into my backside and shifted as I did so, and I twisted around it. It felt like a case of some sort. My fingers fumbled with the latches as I brought it to my lap, hoping for something, anything.
Success – my searching fingers locked around the flare gun, and I nearly wept with relief. I cocked the damn thing and pointed it with shaking fingers out the broken window. The creature had reared back, no longer licking at the grass, but was staring in, eyeing the inside of the cabin. Looking for me.
I fired. The flare arced into the air like a bolt of sunlight, shining high above in the sky.
The dinosaur roared in pain and moved away from the window. I hadn’t hit it, but maybe I’d blinded it with the bright light. I clutched the flare gun close to me and stared up at the evening sky, waiting for the return of the monster.
Luck was with me. It didn’t return after all. I kissed the barrel of the flare gun in silent relief, and said a prayer of thanks that the pilot hadn’t used the gun before I could.
CHAPTER FOUR
I dozed off at some point, because the next thing I knew, I’d woken up to a patch of sunlight shining directly in my eyes, and the hot, funky smell of the cockpit.
I squeezed my eyes open slowly, not daring to move a muscle in case the T-Rex had come back and was looking for me. So far, so good. The cockpit window was damp with condensation on the inside, but nothing else. A few puffy clouds tracked across the clear sky overhead.
I stretched my legs, muscles protesting, and slowly crawled out of the cockpit and back into the cabin of the plane. I cracked the door open a hair, terrified of what I might find out there, but the beach was clean of visitors, the sand churned with a myriad of footprints – both mine and those of the dinosaurs.
Crawling out of the plane on shaky legs, I wobbled out onto the sand. My suitcase had been demolished, either by the T-Rex or the little chirpy critters, and my half-eaten clothing was strewn across the beach. I found a few bottles of the water here and there, and a pretzel bag or two, but the rest were scattered to the wind or busted open, and my pitiful supply of food was even worse than before.
I hid back inside the belly of the plane once that was done, trying to ignore the smell and the heat of the day. The inside of the small plane grew stifling the higher the sun rose in the sky, and the smell overpowering, but I didn’t get out. Inside the plane was safe. In here, the dinosaurs couldn’t get me.
Dinosaurs. On an island.
“This is some serious Jurassic Park bullshit,” I said aloud, rubbing my sticky arms. I was covered in gore from the night I’d spent in the cockpit, but I wasn’t about to leave the plane and head out onto the open beach again. I could stink, for all I cared.
The sun rose high in the sky and I drowsed inside the hot, steamy plane cabin. My stomach growled, waking me up from my sleep occasionally, but I didn’t eat. If a few pretzels were all I had, I needed to make them last.
I started to have fever dreams after a while. Maybe it was the heat or the lack of water, but my dreams began to blur together, as I huddled against the broken chairs, empty flare gun clutched in my hand and staring at the door of the plane, watching for the T-Rex to return. My dreams were scattered, full of bizarre things. Most of it slid in and out of my mind as quickly as it appeared, but one image lingered.
I dreamed about the most beautiful man.
It was odd, really. I dreamed that I looked up at the door of the plane, and a dark silhouette was there, staring down at me. The figure was tall and muscular like a bodybuilder, but lithe like a cat. He slunk into the wreckage like a panther, sniffing the air and descending towards me. His green eyes looked down on me with avid interest, and he leaned in.
Cool hands cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cracked lips in a caress. “Belleza,” he whispered. He stared down at me for a long time, touching my face and hair. The dream faded as I felt him brush something wet and cold across my forehead. I tried to lift a hand to touch the wet streaks, but my limbs felt too heavy.
Then I dreamed about the T-Rex again as well, that it was returning to eat me, his long tongue snaking into the plane to poke me in the forehead. I screamed as the hot, hard point of his tongue bit into my skin.
My eyes flew open. I stared at the point of a spear, the crude tip thrust against my forehead and making a dribble of blood leak down my forehead. It prodded me again, like the dinosaur’s tongue in my dream.
“Goo’ntcha,” said the person holding the spear, and I tried to focus my eyes. The man was small, only slightly larger than a ten-year-old child, and dark. He was covered in dirty matted hair all over his body, and he wore nothing over his small, muscular body except a few stripes of colorful paint. A thick, hairy beard covered his face, emphasizing the thick brow.
A caveman.
“Why the hell not,” I muttered. “After all, we’ve already got the dinosaurs.”
“Goo’ntcha, ” the caveman repeated, poking the tip of the spear against my forehead again. “Goo’ntcha.”
It stung. “Ow.” I pushed the spear away, irritated. “Knock it off.”
That was the wrong thing to do. The little man gave a snarl of rage, and grabbed me by the throat. “Goo’ntcha cho,” he growled at me, his grubby hand closing my throat.
I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at his hand. I didn’t know what he wanted, but the little creep was strong. And aggressive, I mentally added, clawing at his hand. I nodded in fright, trying to make him understand.
He grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “N’gunt. ”
His hand released my throat, and I gasped in relief. “Whatever, buddy.” When he gestured with his spear this time, however, I followed his lead and stood. The little jerk poked me with the spear until I stumbled my way out of the plane and down on the sand.
Outside were six more of the cavemen. They started up an angry, hooting conversation as soon as I emerged from the plane, shaking their spears in my direction.
I collapsed in the sand at their feet, my head spinning.
The caveman grunted and spoke to the others for a few minutes, poking me with his spear as I huddled in the sand. The others seemed to be upset, and one grabbed my hair and sniffed it, then made a comment.
“Goo’ntcha,” the leader said again, gesturing with his spear at me. “Na meh, Sav dor. ” He pointed at his forehead. “Sav dor meh. ”
The one that had found me got angry, and gestured at me. “Goo’ntcha! ”
I recognized that word and stood up immediately, noticing that his dirty head barely reached my shoulder.
He sneered at me, heavy brows wrinkled, and then touched my bare thigh, stroking my skin. “Skoja geum-meh.” His tone changed, and goosebumps rose on my arms at the appraising look he gave me. “Geum-meh.”
Oh, eww. This was not good at all. I averted my eyes as I shoved his hand off my skin. He was getting rather ‘happy’ in a certain uncovered hairy groin area, and I certainly had no desire to see that.
He jabbed his spear at my stomach and put his hand on my leg again, possessively. “Meh. Meh. ” He gestured at himself, then at me. “Meh. Bgha meh.”
Okay, I understood a property claim as well as the next person. He thought since he’d found me, I belonged to him. Remembering the creepy way he’d touched my leg, I shuddered. Could things get any worse around here?
He stared at me with beady little eyes. “Bgha, ” he said, beating his fist against his stout, hairy chest. “Bgha! ”
The way he said the word, it must have been his name. Maybe he was the leader of the small group, b
ecause the other little cavemen were backing down to the one’s claim. I heard them mutter and glare at me, but they backed off, even as Bgha grabbed my hair and sniffed it. “Meh,” he repeated again.
“Sure, meh, whatever,” I said, eyeing the point of his spear. He put his hand on my leg again, and I jerked away, crouching low and wrapping my arms around my legs to protect them. “Quit it.”
He grunted at me and pointed at the ground, indicating I should stay there. I did so, waiting in place as they ransacked what was left of the plane wreckage. The cavemen exclaimed over the dead body of the pilot, stabbed the uprooted chairs, and generally crawled about, exploring. They gathered up a few things, and when they were ready to go, Bgha came back and began to poke me with his spear again. “Vaua-to. ”
I stood, shrugging at him. “I don’t understand you. I can’t speak Neanderthal.”
He jabbed his spear in my back again. “Vaua-to, jobwei. Jobwei. ”
He touched himself and I flinched, stepping back.
Bgha repeated the words and pointed down the beach, and I understood what he was saying. I could stay here and he could get happy with himself (and me) or I could walk down the beach.
“Why, the beach looks absolutely lovely right about now,” I said, leaping up and heading down the beach. The cavemen, loaded down with stolen goods from the plane, trotted around me, though Bgha loomed close by, protecting his ‘prize’.
My mind raced – I’d gone from one bad situation to another. While I didn’t want to stay at the wreckage and wait for the big, hungry dino to come back, I didn’t exactly want to go with the cavemen. There were too many of them to overpower, and they were armed. Being Bgha’s oversized sex slave sounded absolutely revolting…but my other option was a hungry dinosaur.
I was stuck, unless I could get away. I stared at the footsteps that churned the sand, thinking hard, but I found no solution. I kicked one of the footprints in disgust. So much traffic on this one stupid beach – just my luck.