The Dinosaur Four
Page 1
CONTENTS
THE DINOSAUR FOUR
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
I - THE CAFÉ
[ 1 ]
[ 2 ]
[ 3 ]
[ 4 ]
[ 5 ]
[ 6 ]
[ 7 ]
[ 8 ]
[ 9 ]
[ 10 ]
[ 11 ]
[ 12 ]
[ 13 ]
[ 14 ]
[ 15 ]
[ 16 ]
[ 17 ]
[ 18 ]
[ 19 ]
[ 20 ]
[ 21 ]
[ 22 ]
II – THE FOOTBALL
[ 23 ]
[ 24 ]
[ 25 ]
[ 26 ]
[ 27 ]
[ 28 ]
[ 29 ]
[ 30 ]
[ 31 ]
[ 32 ]
[ 33 ]
[ 34 ]
[ 35 ]
[ 36 ]
[ 37 ]
[ 38 ]
[ 39 ]
[ 40 ]
[ 41 ]
[ 42 ]
[ 43 ]
[ 44 ]
[ 45 ]
[ 46 ]
[ 47 ]
[ 48 ]
[ 49 ]
[ 50 ]
[ 51 ]
[ 52 ]
[ 53 ]
[ 54 ]
[ 55 ]
III – DAY OF THE DINOSAUR
[ 56 ]
[ 57 ]
[ 58 ]
[ 59 ]
[ 60 ]
[ 61 ]
[ 62 ]
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THE DINOSAUR FOUR
GEOFF JONES
Copyright © 2014 by Geoff Jones
Cover Illustration © 2014 by Geoff Jones
www.GeoffJonesWriter.com
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.
Editorial Services by Sandstone Editing
www.SandStoneEditing.com
Cover Illustration by Dave Kang
www.DaveKang.4ormat.com
For Mom and Dad
Thank you for teaching me the love of stories
and for believing in me.
THE DINOSAUR FOUR
I
THE CAFÉ
[ 1 ]
The ticking sound began while Lisa Danser counted out change at the register. Dammit, what now? Strange noises usually meant something was about to break. She had sunk every last dollar into The Daily Edition Café and could not afford any serious repairs. The sound made her think of a pilot light, but she couldn’t remember anything in the store that used gas. If it’s a gas problem, won’t the city take care of it? Considering all the fees and taxes she paid, they better.
Tick Tick Tick.
She remembered the cases of wine in the back closet. If the city sent someone out, would they care about the alcohol on the premises? Lisa had recently applied for a liquor license, hoping to sell wine and cheese in the afternoon, when business was slow. She didn’t think anyone would mind that she had alcohol in the building as long as she wasn’t selling it, but she was not certain.
Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick.
Lisa looked over at her barista, Beth, who chatted away with a tall man in a UPS uniform while she tamped grounds in an espresso filter. The law said that Beth was old enough to sell wine, even though she was still a year away from being able to buy it.
The delivery man smiled at Beth. Attractive baristas sold more coffee and earned better tips. Lisa knew it was discriminatory, but she only hired cute young women. Beth fit the bill. She was thin, flirtatious, and bubbly.
“Good day today?” Beth asked as the espresso brewed.
“Good enough. Almost done with my route.” The delivery man had a friendly face.
“Lotta boxes?”
“Not too many, but I still have one that’s pretty large and has to go up three flights of stairs.”
“Sorry.” Beth turned off the espresso machine. “But it sounds to me like you are complaining that your package is too large.” She shook her head and made a tsk tsk sound in mock contempt.
His eyes grew wide and his brown skin darkened as he blushed. Lisa froze for a moment, wondering if the girl had crossed a line, but the man broke out in warm laughter. Lisa’s current customer, the woman waiting for her change, gave the UPS man a sidelong glance and pressed her lips together.
Lisa really wanted a classier establishment, where the staff did not sass the customers. She wanted to charge a little more and begin paying off her debts. Once the liquor license came through, Beth would need to act more professionally.
TICK TICK TICK TICK TICK.
Two men standing in line craned their heads, also looking for the source of the sound. At least she wasn’t imagining things. This made Lisa feel better until she recognized one of them, a regular who always seemed on the verge of asking her out. If he ever actually did, she owed Beth ten dollars. She hoped he wouldn’t. She did not know how she would answer him. The guy was decent looking and seemed nice enough, but he repeated the same conversation day after day.
The UPS man stopped chatting with Beth and looked from side to side as the noise grew louder.
Distracted, Lisa lost count of the bills in her hand. She began again. This earned a loud exhale from the woman waiting for her change. She wore a tailored blazer and designer jeans. Lisa could tell she would not be leaving a tip.
TICK TICK TICK TICK TICK TICK TICK.
The sound seemed to come from all around. No matter how she turned, Lisa could not pinpoint the source. “Ok, what is that?” She threw the money down in the register and looked out the windows on the front and left side of her café, hoping to spot something that might be causing the noise. As usual, she saw only the intersection of two streets right near the edge of downtown Denver. Bright light from the low morning sun reflected off the windows on the building across the street.
The woman in the blazer looked down at the register and up at Lisa. Her mouth formed a small round circle and she looked as if this was the first time in her life she had ever been ignored.
The hair on Lisa’s neck stood on end as the ticking grew louder. Suddenly the noise ended with a pop. It felt as if all sound had been sucked out of the air.
Outside the plate glass windows, the city vanished.
[ 2 ]
The lights went out, plunging the room in darkness. Lisa screamed, emitting a small squeaky sound. Battery-powered emergency halogens came to life above the front door, providing enough light to see around the room, but not nearly enough to make up for what they had cost. One of the men in line gasped, a high hitching sound. It was the regular, Lisa realized.
The building lurched to the left. Lisa had never been in an earthquake before, but this had to be what it felt like. Several people screamed now and Lisa wondered if her insurance covered earthquakes.
A chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and hit Lisa’s shoulder, ripping her sleeve and slicing shallow grooves in the skin of her arm. She sucked air through clenched teeth and rubbed the cut.
The building shifted again and a gust of air hit Lisa in the back as something large collapsed behind her. Two joggers sitting near the front of the store stood and moved toward the door. Don’t go out there,
Lisa thought. That was wrong, though, wasn’t it? You were supposed to get outside during an earthquake. Yet for some reason it seemed like a terrible idea. Before the couple reached the door, one of the six-foot tall windows exploded in a crinkling blast. They threw up their arms to shield their heads, but most of the glass shattered outward.
“Shit!” shouted the older jogger. He dragged his girlfriend back to the center of the room.
The door flew open, slamming into the empty window frame, and a young man stumbled in. “I can’t believe it. Everything is gone! Denver is gone!”
The man ran all the way to the back of the room and moved behind the counter next to Beth. “What the fuck, dude? You want a job?”
He turned toward the front of the store and the emergency light shone on his face, revealing dozens of small cuts, each a red line of blood.
“What do you mean, gone?” asked the UPS man. “How is it gone?”
It dawned on Lisa why going outside seemed like bad idea. It wasn’t just dark inside; it was dark out there as well. That made no sense. The sun had been up for half an hour.
Lisa stepped out from behind the counter, careful to close the register first. The bitch in the blazer seemed to have forgotten about her change and now clung to the back of the orange couch which separated the counter from the seating area up front.
Beth followed Lisa, grabbing her arm with two hands “Lisa, what’s happening?” She was such a toucher. Lisa shrugged her off and walked to the wide window along the left wall. The view normally showed the hotel across the street, with the Starbucks in the lobby. A Starbucks, Lisa often noted, that did a fraction of the business her store brought in.
“Is everyone okay?” demanded the jogger. He wore running shorts that were too small for him and an angry expression. “Is anyone hurt?” No one answered.
Outside the window, Lisa saw only darkness.
She moved her head around to shift her perspective and realized it was not completely black out there. In the sky above, she saw stars. Was there supposed to be an eclipse? Below the window, she detected starlight reflecting off of something. Something moving.
“That looks like water,” the delivery man said.
Somehow, in addition to an earthquake and an eclipse, they were also experiencing a flood. This was impossible. The only water nearby, Cherry Creek, was barely more than a trickle and flowed along the bottom of a canal fifteen feet below street level and two blocks away.
The room shifted again. It only moved a few inches, but it canted at the same time, spilling mugs from the shelves and more plaster from the ceiling. Lisa turned to see a large box containing an expensive espresso machine slide from a high shelf and land on the knee of an old woman sitting alone. The woman moaned, long and low, as she doubled over her leg. That’s going to be an insurance claim, Lisa thought. She turned back to the window, her stomach rolling.
“Would somebody please tell me what the fuck is happening?” demanded the running shorts man. Again, he was ignored, but this time he huffed to express his disappointment. The other jogger, the young woman with the red pony-tail, cowered against him.
Lisa studied the dark shapes outside. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the emergency lights. Below the starry sky, she saw a jagged line that looked like the tops of trees. She wanted to ask, is that a jungle out there? but she didn’t want to sound stupid. Instead, she let her jaw hang open and reached for the window, pointing.
Just before her finger touched the glass, a twenty-foot section of wall separated from the building and fell outward. The window exploded in a spider web of cracks as it hit the water and disappeared into the rushing current. The room filled with the sound of the flowing river.
The floor running along the now-missing wall cracked and dropped, as if on a hinge, leaving Lisa on a thirty-degree slope, a slide that led right down to the water. The ceiling above fell at the same time and a large chunk from upstairs slid past, landing with a splash. Water sprayed into the café and slickened the slanted floor.
Lisa slid down the slope, twisting and turning and reaching back for anything that could stop her. She felt like she was falling out of the world. Just as she opened her mouth to scream, she hit the water and went under.
[ 3 ]
Tim MacGregor watched as the woman washed away downstream. A wide river flowed from left to right where Chestnut Street had been moments earlier. Warm, humid air flooded the room. He couldn’t understand how this was possible.
Another man who had been standing in line shouted “Lisa!” and fumbled off his black suit jacket.
How did he know her name? Tim wondered. It was easier to ponder their relationship than whatever was happening. Someone else had shouted that downtown Denver disappeared. That didn’t seem right, though. The café had moved. It had gone somewhere. Tim had felt the shifting. But how? Where?
The man threw his jacket onto an empty table and backed up into the room, bumping the old woman who sat under the bookshelves. She whimpered and held her leg. Blood glistened between her fingers. Tim wondered what the man was doing and then realized that he was trying to get a running start.
The younger barista walked up to the crack in the floor and stared down at the river.
“Move it,” ordered the man. He sprinted forward, straight toward the missing wall. Tim grabbed the barista’s arm and pulled her clear. The man sprung off of the sloping floor and flew out over the water. He landed on his side and swam downstream.
Tim had never been in this café before. His new girlfriend, Julie, had told him to meet her here. He had just walked in, hoping to see her, when the ticking started. He felt paralyzed. He wanted someone to tell him what to do.
The man disappeared into the night as he swam off after Lisa. What if that had been Julie? Tim felt guilty, both for his inaction and for his inability to swim. Colorado was a thousand miles from the nearest ocean, he remembered defensively. If he jumped in after them, he would just be one more person in need of rescue. That doesn’t mean you can’t do something. You aren’t injured. Do something.
“This is nuts,” said another customer, a man wearing a UPS uniform. “Where did they go?” Tim shoved past him and hurried toward the entrance. Blinded by the emergency lights above the door, he stumbled over a fallen chair and kicked it out of his way without stopping.
“Hey! Watch it, buddy,” barked an older guy wearing jogging shorts.
Tim ignored him and stepped through the now-empty window frame by the door. He stood on a portion of sidewalk covered with broken glass. To the left, the concrete jutted out over the river. To the right, it stopped above a muddy bank. Straight ahead, the sidewalk simply came to an end.
He saw the man floating downstream. Tim took several steps out over the river, but the man was too far away to reach. He looked around. Beyond the sidewalk, he saw no sign of Denver. The sky above held more stars than Tim had ever seen in his life, even camping in the mountains.
He hurried to his right and stepped down onto the muddy ground. The café sat on the edge of a river in a wide clearing, surrounded by a wall of trees.
“Hey, wait,” called someone behind him. It sounded like the UPS guy.
Tim did not look back. The two people in the water were washing away. Tim caught sight of the swimming man, illuminated by starlight. Further downstream, he saw a frantic splash that must be the woman. She disappeared around a bend. Tim ran after them, slipping in the mud despite the thick tread on his work boots. He stopped watching the river and focused on his footing. As the woods closed in, he pulled out his mobile phone and shined the light ahead of him.
The heavy humid air reminded him of summer vacations at his grandfather’s house in Minnesota. It felt nothing like Colorado. Thin stems slapped at his arms and legs. Tim paused, realizing that the café must be nearly out of sight. He turned to look back, wondering if it would still be there.
The Daily Edition Café had occupied the bottom corner of an old, eight-story building. A ragged r
uin two stories high now hung halfway out over a river. The café itself looked mostly intact, but the suite next door was nowhere to be seen. Half of the second floor remained, with uneven walls and no ceiling.
Denver hadn’t disappeared, they had. The café had been scooped out of the building and deposited on this riverbank. Tim wondered briefly what had happened to the rest of the structure, back in Denver. Did it collapse? Had anything happened to Julie?
He pushed the thought aside and pressed on. Tim lost sight of the river when he took a wide arc past a thicket of thorny brambles. He began to feel lost in the dark and wondered if he could find his way back to the café. He stopped and tried to slow his breathing so that he could listen for the sound of rushing water.
[ 4 ]
William Crockett stood on the sidewalk and peered into the dark woods, searching for the young man who had run off. His long-sleeved UPS uniform felt sticky in the warm, humid air. At three inches over six feet, William had a good vantage point, but after forty-two years, his eyesight was not so sharp. He saw no signs of life. What in the hell is going on? He worried about his sons. Had whatever happened here also happened at their school?
William walked to the left end of the sidewalk, where it jutted out over the river. He squinted, searching for anything else that looked like a building, but he saw only dark shadows. He turned around and walked to the other end, where the sidewalk stopped above the muddy shore.
Holding on to the bricks, William leaned around the corner and looked at the side of the building. More shadows. He studied the wall, which belonged to the suite next door to the café. A real estate office, he remembered. Little of that room remained. The wall was blank except for a light switch and a framed photo of the Rocky Mountains. William followed the wall upward. The ceiling of the realty office jutted out only a few inches. Above, the wall continued past the second floor, where it ended with a jagged edge. It looked like one of the buildings in the World War II video games his sons played. William wondered what was in the suite above the café.