One of the giants dropped a load of excrement which splashed all over a ceratopsian passing underneath. The smaller animal gave an indignant squeal, shaking to and fro to get the crap off. “Oh yuck!” Cassie murmured disgusted. The flies hovering around suddenly swarmed all over the unfortunate creature who umbeled in distress, tossing its head about. The standing giant gave a rumble of its own.
“I thought that was the front end therefore a minute,” Doc murmured.
Mitch snorted. “That little one probably did too,” Mitch couldn't resist saying. Cassie snorted as they watch it make a beeline for the pond and a much needed bath.
After a while they turned and watched the animals near the pond, drinking from the watering hole. The giant hammerheads were rolling in the mud, as were the juveniles and ceratopsian hammerheads. Mitch’s quiet “Uh oh,” made Doc looked up from her binoculars.
“What, what do you see?”
“On the edge of the mud in the water,” Mitch said softly. Doc turned her attention to it.
Cassie pulled on the back of their seats to pull herself forward, “What, what do you see?”
“There,” Mitch pointed. A slow giant object floated closer and closer to a juvenile.
Cassie quietly hissed. ”That’s a log right?”
“No, I am betting it is a...” Just as he is about to finish the croc flashed out of the water, slamming its massive jaws around the juvenile hammerhead. It let out a terrifying bawl, thrashing as the croc tossed it from side to side and then began scotching back to the water, dragging its prey to its doom. The adults were bawling now, thrashing their great heads and trying to stomp on the croc. The mud sucked their stomping feet down, spraying mud all around, but minimizing the impact.
One of the adults tried to get close, but stepped in a bog hole and failed. Another croc came up, then another, lining up along the shoreline. Warily the adult Hammerheads back up, pushing at the surviving young to follow them.
The first croc snapped its teeth around the doomed baby, setting it to bawl again, this time weaker. Another croc moved in and almost gently snatched at a dangling leg. The baby bawled, but it turned to a weak scream as the croc clamped down and began to twist. Cassie coughed. “Oh my god I think I am going to be sick!” She turned away.
Doc gulped. “Damn, guess we aren’t going skinny dipping!”
Mitch looked at her shaken face then snorted. “DARN!” He gave an oaf as she punched his arm again.
“Something told me we are going to have the picnic IN the car,” Cassie observed dryly.
Mitch snorted and glanced back at her. “Yeah, that would be the safe thing to do,” he replied then he smirked. “Pity, I don’t think we can spread the blanket in here though,” he finished only slightly facetious.
“We could always eat on the roof,” Doc suggested, and then shook her head, answering her own suggestion. Cassie handed out the sandwiches from the cooler.
During the heat of the day, Doc dozed slightly in the car. Cassie spotted movement in the herd, something near the edge in the tall grass. She murmured an alert to the others. Doc looked up from her snooze sleepily, and then shrugged it off. Mitch however pulled up the binoculars, and flipped on the built in recorder. Cassie pointed him in the right direction and he panned the field watching a pair of juvenile giant hammerheads toying with a ceratopsian hammerhead. The ceratopsian thrashed its great frill back and forth, but it only took a moment to realize they were playing. Paws dug at the ground as they romped and sparred, while one of the juveniles mockingly stomped and rumbled. One of the adults turned its head to them, giving a low bleat of sound and then soft chuffing. They paused for a minute, and then began again when the adult returned to eating.
Cassie poked his arm, “Not there, beyond them, I thought I saw something in the grass!”
He turned back to the scene, and then panned out. At first he didn’t see anything, so he flipped to IR. The binoculars went out of focus and then adjust to the environment. He caught a glimpse of something in the grass beyond and upwind of the juveniles. “Hmm... Yeah, something is stalking them.” He flipped back to normal mode. A few moments later he caught sight of a raptor in a break in the grass. “Raptors,” he quietly observed.
Doc woke with a start. “Raptors? Where?” Alarmed she reached for a gun.
Cassie grabbed her arm and then pointed. “There mom, in the brush.” Doc fumbled with her glasses then and then pulled them up to her eyes to look.
The action started as the wind shifted, bringing the scent of the stalking raptors to the herd. Suddenly all eating activity stopped, as the herbivores blanted and trumpeted in alarm and tossed their heads and tails, trying to lock onto the predators scent. The raptors froze as a nearby adult began to stomp in agitation. The ceratopsian moved off, the juveniles stopped playing, looked around in interest but did not move off to the safety of the herd.
Doc gasped as suddenly out of the grass one of the raptors leapt out, slashing at the closest juvenile with tooth and talons. Squealing in terror the juveniles turned, exposing their flanks to the attacker, who raked one and then latched on. The baby tossed its head, trying to shake it's attacker off but claws dug into the body, tearing at it. It stumbled and went down, blood and blubber gushing.
A bite to the throat administered the coup de grace. Bawling in terror its former playmate made a run for the herd, which had moved off a hundred meters away. The rest of the pack rushed out of the grass, one paused at the first kill but then turned and joined the others in pursuit. The juvenile tossed its head and tail, bawling in terror as its legs ran for its life. One of the adults turned its head, then turned around and thrashed its head and stomped. Cassie’s breath was fast as she clutched at Mitch’s arm, he tried to ignore the sudden clamp.
“Ease up Cassie,” Mitch growled. She was grabbing the bruise her mother had inflicted on that arm and it hurt. The girl however didn’t even hear him. The juvenile rushed past the adult just as the raptors got within striking range. The adult dropped its head, trying to strike at one of the raptors but in a sudden burst of agility the predator climbed the slopping head like a ramp, and then jumped off flaring its arms and legs wide in a hissing strike onto the back of the juvenile.
The baby's squalls of abject terror were cut off as the raptor latched on. A juvenile raptor struck from the flank, ripping at a side and then latching its beak jaws around the throat for the kill. The trio dropped tumbling into the grass.
The herd had moved off, tossing its heads and tails in terror. The lone adult moved to stomp on the predators but the other raptors moved in, striking at its legs in darting attacks. Doc grunted. “They're not trying to kill it, just drive it off.”
“Yeah, they got what they wanted,” Mitch commented.
Trumpeting loudly the adult thrashed its head and stomped, making raptors jump back and away. The two with the second kill moved off reluctantly as one of the others chittered a warning. The adult moved to stand over the fallen juvenile, pushing it with a great leg gently. When it didn’t respond the adult turned, blaring a trumpeting sound to the raptors then and then turned to the retreating herd, now some distance away. Slowly it ambled in their wake.
“Damn, those raptors are bigger, twice as big as the others we have run into,” Mitch observed. “Utah raptors I bet,” he said, voice not quite as detached as he'd like it to be. Doc shuddered.
The raptors moved in to enjoy the spoils with stuttering cawed of victory. “Can we go home now?” A shaken Cassie asked.
Doc stared straight ahead, before giving out a low sigh, “Yeah that might be a good idea,” she said. Mitch snorted. They froze as a couple raptors ran up alongside the truck, and then paused. One juvenile turned, snorted, and then a caw from the kill sites made it turn and rush to them.
Raptors were dancing about, fluttering and cawing. “Mating dance or victory dance?” Doc asked softly.
“Probably a little of both, and a little dominance display mixed in. On second thought, it is
a bit late in the season for mating,” Mitch replied equally soft never taking his eyes off the predators.
One of the juveniles darted in to grab a hunk of flesh. An adult rushed it, screeching anger. The juvenile retreated, maw dripping gore. It lowered its head to the ground and fluttered it arms. The chastising adult gave it a thrumming caw, and then cocked its head left and right, eying it until the juvenile settled down with a huff. Then the adult returned to the meal.
“Gotta wait your turn laddie,” Mitch said as he pushed the ignition button and flipped on the electric drive. They creeped quietly away, the crunch of rocks under the tires made a few of the animals nearby restless, but not enough to investigate. Cassie watched over her shoulder anyway, never taking her eyes off the raptors until they dropped out of sight behind a hill. She gave a long sigh of relief then.
Half way back to base something began to itch at the back of Mitch’s mind. They were driving along the side of a creek, almost to the road. The brush and tree line on his side of the vehicle obscured his view. Doc wasn’t too thrilled about the view on her side, a sharp muddy embankment to the creek, where crocs lurked in the water.
He slowed the truck, trying to get a handle on what was bothering him. Doc looked at him concerned. “What’s wrong?” she asked, he shook his head,
“I dunno, I just got déjà vu, not the good kind,” Mitch replied slowly.
Cassie giggled in the back. “His spider sense is tingling mom.”
Doc was not getting into the mischief. “No, you really think...”
“I dunno... wait it is to quiet,” Mitch said as the feeling intensified. She looked alarmed.
Cassie sat up, looking around as well. “I don’t hear anything.”
“That is what I mean, not even insects.” A sudden blur on his side of the car made him hit the gas instinctively.
Doc screamed as a massive shape slammed into the car, Cassie wailed as it tipped and rolled over. Again they were slammed, Cassie screamed as the lexan glass shattered and the truck rolled down an embankment. It slid into the mud, then tipped onto its side...teetered for an awful moment and then onto the wheels. Mitch was dazed as the truck bounced. “Thank god for the roll cage,” he commented, and then blearily asked if they were okay.
When Doc didn’t respond he looked over, her head was lolling against the cracked window; a smear of blood could be seen behind her head and all over the glass. He fought with his seat belt to check her. A slam to the rear had Cassie screaming again. A loud pop and sudden settling told them the rear driver's side tire had been blown.
“Will you quit!” Mitch bellowed. Cassie immediately quieted down. He flipped the arming switch for the defenses. Another slam was interrupted by a loud pop and sparks. A squeal outside told them something didn't like that and then they heard stomping as whatever attacked them moved off. He flipped the switch back to safe.
He fumbled with the seat belt, but sudden pain in his left arm made him stop and grit his teeth. He felt with his right hand, gasping as he felt the break in his left forearm. He felt something on his forehead, and then his left eye instinctively closed as a liquid dripped in to sting his eye.
He reached up with his good hand to wipe it off and found blood. “Great, just great,” he muttered. He reached with his right hand to check Doc, finding her left hand he pulled it to him and checked her pulse. He gushed a sigh of relief. She had a pulse.
“Cassie are you okay?” he asked, trying to look at the girl in the rear view mirror.
She moaned a little. “Yeah, bit banged up though. I wasn’t wearing my belt; I think my shoulder is dislocated. My knee is killing me,” she answered. It sounded like she was gritting her teeth to try to fight back the pain.
“Okay, are you bleeding?”
“No. At least I don’t think so. What if it came back? What was it the rhino?” A note of hysteria began to creep into her voice.
“I doubt it. I got the impression it was something bigger. Not to worry, we will give it the shock of its short lived life if it does,” Mitch vowed.
A watery chuckle turned into a cough. “Oh... damn, I think I have a couple ribs busted too. Must have hit the fridge or something,” Cassie said. He can hear her shuddering breath, but can’t see her.
He turned to the dash, noted the flashing red warning lights. He sighed and fumbled with the radio transmitter. Coughing he got it and radioed in. “Jolie Pete, this is Mitch.” Static answered him. He turned up the gain and tried again. A garbled Jolie answered. He told her the situation, she caught some of it, but he wasn’t sure how much.
“Cassie, can you get into the med kit?” Mitch asked. Cassie’s rough breath and groan was his only answer for a moment. He could hear fumbling and agonized breaths as she tried.
“Okay, I got it,” she replied after a moment. He heard a hiss as she injected herself with a pain reliever. “Haaa,” she sighed, and then groaned as she tried to move again.
“I don’t want you to move much Cassie; those broken ribs could spear something important. Just feel around, check the damage,” Mitch cautioned. She gave a gargled okay. He used his right hand to check himself, feeling the cuts to his head.
He looked with his right eye, seeing that the windows were all smashed. Bullet proof windows were great at stopping impact and spalling, but clouded up. “Great, can’t see a thing,” Mitch growled. Cassie’s breath caught at this news.
He heard a low rumble outside, and then grumble. He sighed. “Okay, so we have problem visitors outside too.” He again reached for the belt release, and then changed his mind when something nudged the truck. He flipped the taser defense system on.
A spark and pop followed by a loud squeal and running feet made him grimace. He flipped the taser back off. He checked himself, continuously brushing blood out of his face. He felt something on his arm and reached for it. “Here, use this,” Cassie said. He fumbled and grabbed the bandage she handed him.
He stuck it to his forehead. He felt a light pressure of a cylinder on his right arm, then a hiss of something cool. “I gave you a low dose,” Cassie told him.
He grunted. “So much for this outing!” She gave a watery chuckle, and then groaned as she pulled herself up.
“I said wait Cassie!” Urgent anxiety cut into his self pity.
“I checked, nothing totally broken in my leg or ribs, most likely cracks and hairline fractures. Scanner found only tissue damage in the knee, and a couple good cracks on the right lower ribs,” Cassie reported. He stilled as he digested that news.
“You could have spinal damage,” He replied softly.
“Yeah, that is why I am taking it slow; we can’t just sit here watching mom bleed to death you know,” Cassie replied tartly. He nodded, and then gasped at the pain in his neck. Worried she touched his arm. “Bad?” Anxiety was creeping back into her voice, so he gritted his teeth and reminded himself he needed to keep control.
“Just a stabbing pain, like a crick in my neck.... right side,” he replied. She chuckled.
“Pass me an inflatable splint will you?” he asked, groaning a little as he pulled his left arm into his lap.
“You sure?” she asked,
“Yeah, I think I may need both hands soon.” She didn’t say anything but in a moment he heard rustling behind him then something touch his left arm and then fall on his left hand. Even that slight touch was enough to make him exhale in pain. He pulled his hand from his head wound to fumble the splint, but felt the bandage slipping. Cool fingers touched his wounded brow, and then pressure returned to the bandage. “Thanks,” he muttered as he bent his elbow, pulling his hand up against his chest while his right hand laid the splint out in his lap.
He dropped the arm onto it, then grimaced as he wrapped the splint around his wounded arm and closed the Velcro strips together. He fumbled to pull the hose to his mouth, and then gave a tentative puff. His vision swam, as pain no longer a dull distant thing began to once more cloud his thoughts. “Damn, that hurt.”
&nb
sp; “Didn’t anyone tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” Cassie wryly commented.
He felt his lips quirk in a smile then gave a slow breath exhale through the tube. Slowly he breathed out, expanding the splint until it locked in place. He fumbled with pulling the Velcro strap sling up around his head. Cassie helped. She fumbled in the kit and pulled out something.
He felt her pull the bandage off, and then the startlingly cool tingle as she sprayed the cut with biofoam. “There, that should hold for a little while,” Cassie said. The built in local anesthetic quickly numbed the wound.
“Good idea. Can you do that to your mom?” he asked.
She turned, “I almost forgot.”
“Mom, Mom,” Cassie murmured. Cassie touched her mother's arm, and then pulled herself up. She felt around, hissing as her ribs bump things. The pain killer was good, but only dulled the ache, it didn’t kill it.
She sighed in relief, “I can’t find any damage to her neck. She might be concussed or have a sub dermal hematoma,” Cassie cautioned. Cassie felt up her mom's left arm, not finding anything. Her right arm reached around and pressed a pad to her mother’s head wound, making her suddenly jerk and moan.
“Ah, coming around, good sign. Mom, can you hear me?” Cassie murmured. Cassie’s left arm was cradled in her lap. Her mother’s left arm began to flop around, and then she reached up to touch her head.
Doc groaned softly. “Damn, what hit me?? Did anyone get the license plate?” Mitch snorted, but Cassie was concerned for memory loss.
“Mom, do you know where we are?” Her mother turned her head, felt the hand at her temple. She reached up and gasped, but grabbed her daughter’s hand and squeezed.
“I would say in a car accident,” Doc finally answered, starting to get control of her voice.
Mitch snorted. “No kidding, though I doubt the guy who hit us has insurance.”
Doc looked at him a moment then asked. “Okay, who are you?”
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