Jurassic Dead

by Rick Chesler

  “Why not? Surely it's thawed by now? I'd like to know exactly what we're dealing with, here, Xander—male, female, hermaphrodite?” At length he added, “Wow! That is fantastic! Walk over to it for me, would you? Give it some scale. I could be looking at a toy model for all I know.”

  Xander moved to the T. rex and stood in front of it, wearing a there-are-you-happy-now expression.

  “My God! Simply astounding! Only question…why does it have a fucking harness around its jaws?”

  Xander walked back to the laptop and sat down in front of it. “Um… just to help keep it secure.”

  “Xander. I’m going to need you to elaborate upon your answer.”

  Xander rubbed an eye before continuing. No point holding back, he’s going to find out. “If I look a little funny it's because…fuck it. I just witnessed a T. rex wake up and attack everything in sight.”

  There was a moment of confused silence followed by DeKirk starting to laugh in fits and starts until he guffawed heartily. “Oh, Xander my boy. That's priceless.”

  Xander waited for him to get the last few cackles out of his system before continuing.

  “I'm not kidding.” He leaned in close to the screen. “It came to life when it was just barely thawed! It would be thrashing around and destroying this ship right now if we hadn’t thought fast and sedated the hell out of it.”

  DeKirk's expression darkened. “It doesn't look very alive. Do Tyrannosaurs sleep on their sides?” He chuckled at his own joke.

  “He doesn’t look it because I emptied the ship's medicine cabinet into it, Melvin. Knocked it out with a collection of sedatives that would be the envy of Michael Jackson's doctor.”

  DeKirk was speechless for a lengthy pause. “You're serious? Because let me tell you, Xander, if this is some kind of practical joke—”

  “Here. Look.” He turned the laptop around so that Marcus' inert form was visible in the background.

  “Who's that?”

  “That's your former paleontologist.”

  “Marcus? What happened, he have a heart attack after we fired him?”

  “That T. rex chomped off his hand when it woke up, because he happened to be standing right at the mouth admiring the thing like some kind of obsessed fan boy. He passed out from shock and loss of blood. Got men coming with a stretcher to haul him to the infirmary.”

  “Oh.” DeKirk let out a chuckle. “Well, at least he won't be able to claim worker's comp, since we fired him before it happened.”

  “Will you get serious for a second?”

  “Whenever you're ready to get serious, so will I. A T. rex pulled out of a frozen lake, undisturbed for millions of years, woke up, and bit a guy's hand off? Really?”

  Xander picked up the laptop and walked it over to Marcus. He knelt down with the machine and pointed the webcam at Marcus's blood-caked stump.

  The tone of DeKirk's voice changed to a sort of raspy monotone with a certain intensity about it. “Xander, listen to me. If what you say is true...” He broke off in thought for a few seconds, then resumed. “You have to get the captain, tell him to turn the ship around.”

  “What? We’re going to Chile, remember? To drop off Marcus and his punk kid who sabotaged the drill site.”

  DeKirk shook his head strenuously. “Change of plans. No, this is…beyond incredible! We have to study this development. Top priority, it changes everything.” He sat back and Xander could tell the little wheels in his brain were spinning like crazy, deviously calculating, having gone from disbelief to acceptance, now to making plans to capitalize on something far more significant. DeKirk was a man who didn’t get his billions from luck, but from the ability to adapt fast to his surroundings and changing events.

  “I've taken blood samples of both the dinosaur and its human victim. I’ll analyze the samples myself and after the tests are run—”

  “No, Xander. A frozen T. rex, revived after millions of years on ice? To get the answer of how that’s possible, you’re going to need more than the facilities you have at hand.”

  “You’re probably right. Especially since there’s one more little fact you’re not aware of. Not only did it revive itself, somehow, but it doesn't even have a heart.”

  DeKirk blinked, and his face floated closer to the camera. “Say again?”

  “Before he lost his hand, Marcus—well, I was really the one who noticed it, but he corroborated it—saw that the T. rex had a gaping chest wound and is completely missing its heart. No heart. It's not there. One of the lungs is gone, too.”

  “Oh great, so he was working after all. Why’d you let him in here?”

  Xander looked away from the webcam for a second before responding. “I made it clear to him that he was no longer in an official capacity. He just walked up to the T. rex in the middle of the crowd of workers. By the time I noticed him, he had his head up to the wound, talking about the missing heart.”

  “I thought you said it was you who first noticed the missing heart?”

  Xander forced himself to bite back an acerbic reply. He took a deep breath. “What difference does it even make right now?”

  “Since I'm not actually there, I'm relying on you to tell me what happened. It's important that I can trust your account.”

  “I still don't see how—”

  “You know what I think, Xander? I think Marcus is the one who noticed the missing heart, and that you just tried to pass it off like you discovered it first. I know Marcus. He's a damned good paleontologist. I know we thought we didn’t need him anymore, but now with this development, I have to reconsider. He knows more about dinosaur anatomy than anyone, especially you. So stop lying to me, Xander. Because if I can't trust you...”

  Duly chastened, Xander dropped his head a little, eyes downcast. “Okay. I apologize.” Xander threw his hands up. “Can we just move on please? I guess we could use Marcus—if he lives through this!”

  DeKirk stared at him a moment across the Internet, the eyes of the abstract figure in the Picasso right along with him. He paused to light a cigar, and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke at the lens.

  Xander, not liking the silence, added: “No idea how long this thing'll stay out for.” He turned around and peered over at the T. rex as if checking it for signs of stirring.

  “We need to figure this out, and fast.”

  “No shit. So what—?”

  “Order the Captain to reroute the ship to Adranos. Marcus can be properly evaluated at Adranos. My facility there is state-of-the-art and fully operational.”

  “How come I was never told about what you’ve got at Adranos?”

  “Xander, don’t press my patience.”

  “How far away is it? Can you tell me that much?”

  “It's far, but the ship is fast.”

  “So I've heard.”

  The video image dissolved into a mess of pixels and DeKirk was gone, leaving Xander to wait in uncomfortable silence for the men with the stretcher, to wait with a dying man and a slumbering ancient predator...

  16.

  Aboard Oil Tanker Hammond-1, En route to Adranos Island

  Marcus felt like he was coming off the worst bender of his life. Except that he hadn't gotten drunk in the last twenty years, since his college days. The lights of the ship's infirmary began to come into focus as he brought a hand to rub his throbbing temple...and felt only a smooth lump of bandage drag across his skin. Making his headache worse was the incessant yapping of the ship's doctor. What's her name...?

  Veronica Winters stood in the corner of the infirmary, about as far away from Marcus as she could get in the little room, talking furtively on a satellite phone that Marcus hadn't seen her use before. Usually, she carried the smart-phone that worked via shipboard satellite, or else just the two-way radios. He closed his eyes again, not wanting her to know just yet that he was listening.

  “...certain that DeKirk isn't on board. No. If you'll just let me explain...”

  She talked very softly, with just enough air b
ehind the words to keep them from being a whisper.

  “No, we were headed to Chile, but the course has been changed to go to some island. Adranos something. Listen, if you don't want me to compromise my cover, I've got to get going and try to patch this guy up somehow. I'll initiate contact at this number from the island and give you a sit-rep. Out.”

  Marcus heard her stash the sat-phone in her medical bag and then take a measured breath. He opened his eyes. Turning his head, he watched her take a smelling salt packet from a trauma kit. She then turned around to walk over to him, stopping in her tracks as they made eye contact.

  Dropping the smelling salts, she nervously approached him where he lay in the cot. He dimly remembered the T. rex, the crushing pain in his hand. He looked down, saw the bandaged stump, and the gauze soaking through with spots of pus. He did his best not to lose it. He wiggled his remaining fingers and toes. Those that were there seemed to work, but he didn't feel good, and that was for sure. The headache. The general feeling of malaise, like something he couldn't put a finger on that was just...not right at all.

  His wrist hurt like hell, too. “What medications have I been given?” He stared expectantly at Veronica.

  “Oh, good, you're awake!”

  “I asked you a question, Doctor.”

  “So far...ah...nothing.”

  He tried to sit up in the bed, but the sudden movement caused a sharp pain in his temples as his blood pressure dropped, and he eased himself back down. He turned his head sideways to look at her while he spoke. “Nothing! Why?”

  “You seemed to be recovering well and I thought it best you get some rest.”

  “What? Wait a minute. You mean I haven't even been given antibiotics yet?” He looked down at the bandages over his stump and their muted rainbow of malodorous discharge.

  She looked at him blankly.

  “This is preposterous!”

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Something to—” He started, but had to stop when a bolt of pain shot through his head. One of his eyes itched and he scratched at it, the finger coming away with a copious amount of viscous, mustard-colored goop.

  Frustrated and scared, he held the finger out towards her, taking satisfaction in her shock as her eyes opened wider while she backed up, but at the same time, realizing that he was not in capable hands.

  “Where exactly did you study medicine?”

  “I…” She broke off as though receiving new instructions from her brain. “Look, I can see now that you've got an infection. It hasn't been that long since you were bitten. Let me give you something for it.”

  “Like what, Doctor?”

  “Well, this is an unusual case since I've never treated anyone who was bitten by a dinosaur before, but—”

  “Look, I don't have time for this bullshit. Do you have any broad spectrum antibiotics in here? That'll at least take care of the bacterial stuff. I hope.” Clearly, if he was going to survive this, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

  “That's just it, Mr. Ramirez. We…”

  “Doctor Ramirez.”

  “What?”

  “I’m a Ph.D.”

  “Oh. Right. Doctor Ramirez, my bad.”

  Marcus sighed. “So at least there's one actual doctor in the room, right?”

  She blushed, but chose to ignore the accusation by continuing the conversation. “As I was saying, Dr. Ramirez, whatever came out of that ancient lake wasn't meant to interact with modern biology. I have no idea what to treat it with. No one does, how could they?”

  “Consider that later. Now, let's start with the antibiotics. Where are they in here?” He looked around the room as his son had done, reading the labels on the cabinets. Only he found that his vision was failing him. He could still see for the first few feet, but beyond that, everything got blurry. While Veronica walked to a cabinet and opened it, Marcus continued.

  “Setting aside for the moment the era of the biology that's infected me, what I want to know is how could any era's biology explain how a complex, multi-cellular animal could not only be alive after all this time, but alive without major organs?”

  His excitement at the uniqueness of the situation proved too much for his frail body and he vomited down the side of the cot—a yellow substance streaked with green, so foul-smelling it caused Veronica to retch.

  “Here! I found some!” The degree of surprise Veronica displayed at actually finding a common medicine in her own infirmary only solidified Marcus' fears, but right now, he needed antibiotics.

  “Great. Bring them here, please.”

  She brought him two bottles of pills, presenting them both to him so that he could make his own choice. Marcus read the labels and picked one. She opened it for him, gave him a cup of water and he downed twice as much as the recommended dosage.

  Then he lay back on the cot again, the exertion of sitting up for the pills having worn him out. He looked over at Veronica, who was staring at the streak of weird-colored puke dripping onto the linoleum floor, but all he could think of now was one thing.

  “Where's my son?”

  17.

  Aboard Oil Tanker Hammond-1, En route to Adranos Island

  Alex backed away from the porthole above the cargo hold, which afforded him a position to look down on his father and Veronica. He waited until the men arrived with the stretcher, and then he stepped away, further out into the bitter wind and the cold.

  He stood there on the deck, shivering, unsure of what to do next. He felt change in the air temperature though, just enough. It had warmed slightly as they escaped the frigid Antarctic zone, but now the winds swirled angrily and collided with a warmer front from the north. The stars were swallowed up with a thicker darkness and ribbons of lightning streaked in the distance.

  Storm coming, he worried. Still hesitating, he pulled up his hood, glanced around, and ducked farther into the shadows, behind an exhaust vent, and waited.

  He didn’t have to wait long, as Xander emerged shortly, carrying a small leather bag. Inside, Alex knew, were the blood samples from the T. rex, and from his father.

  Follow the blood, or follow his dad?

  Alex shivered. The fake doctor—as much as he didn’t trust her skills—at least was on the right side of this mess. He could trust her with his father, but this Xander…Alex needed to know what he was really up to, and why he wanted to test that blood. Certainly, it wasn’t out of concern for his father, so there must be something more sinister and far-reaching at work. Alex needed to find that out, and fast. His time was running out—and possibly his father’s as well.

  Xander ducked his head into the wind and strode right past Alex’s hiding spot.

  Hood up, Alex followed at a safe distance, not concerned about the noise his boots were making on the slick metal stairs, as the biting wind drowned out everything but its own insistent howling. Xander made his way efficiently to his cabin, #412, but as he unlocked the door, he was met by the captain coming from the opposite direction. The big hulking figure, having lost his coat and braving the winds with just a turtleneck, seemed to have something urgent to impart to his newest passenger, and Alex, turning and blending back with the shadows, waited for an opportunity.

  He’d only get one shot, and as it was, this would be beyond crazy, but really, given the stakes, his father’s condition and everything Alex had done already that had all but ensured his fate, couldn’t get any worse, why not risk everything? A moment later, as Xander followed the captain a short distance away, where the big man pointed at aft over the railing and shouted something Alex could barely make out as related to the approaching storm, he moved swiftly. Ducking inside #412, Alex gave the quarters a quick glance-over: desk and laptop, cooling unit and flat screen TV, bed and closets…

  He had to move fast, hearing the clanging of a pair of returning footsteps, and chose the farthest set of closet doors. Nothing inside except hangars and a safe, Alex ducked in, closed the door and crouched low in the shadow
s, peeking through the louvers just as Xander stormed inside his cabin. The door closed behind him and Xander placed the black bag on his desk, and then tapped some keys on his laptop before he shrugged out of his coat and kicked it to the floor.

  I should have done the same, Alexander mused from his hiding spot. Still breathing heavy, he felt overheated in the warm cabin. Soon, he’d be sweating and having more trouble breathing. Xander better make this quick and get back outside—or take a leak so Alex could get those samples and get out.

  He realized it was better than nothing, but hopefully, he’d learn something first, and Xander didn’t disappoint. All business, he went to a cabinet, opened it up, and came back with a supply bag—and a case he must have brought along. Inside, Alex recognized the device—a centrifuge, and then a microscope came out.

  Okay boss, get to work.

  #

  Xander completed the first round of analysis, focusing on the slide with Marcus’s sample. Better to ascertain whether he had been infected with anything first, before checking out the T. rex blood. God only knew how he was going to figure anything out there, not being a paleo-biologist. If such a thing even existed. Hell, probably the only one who could really figure that out right now would be the guy whose blood was on the slide, and he was in no condition to help.

  Suddenly, a Skype window popped up, and DeKirk’s face leered back at him.

  Damn that connection, Xander thought, wishing the storm the captain warned him about was already here and blocking the satellite linkup.

  “Xander?”

  “Yes sir, no results yet. Give me a minute, please!”

  “We don’t have that luxury of time. I’m tracking that storm too, and I don’t want excuses—or blackouts. What have you got?”

  Xander shrugged and looked into the eyepiece after taking a drop from the centrifuge sample. “Well, as you said, I’m not equipped here with the facilities to properly analyze, but I should be able to…”

  He dropped off and his mouth hung open.

  “Xander?”