by Geoff Jones
Tim did not appear to be enjoying himself. He remained hunkered on the floor in the center.
Callie seemed to notice as well. “Tell us about your girl, Tim,” she prompted.
Tim chewed on his lip. “Her name is Julie. We were supposed to meet up this morning. She just got back from flying up and down the coast of California.” He gave a small grin and his shoulders dropped a little. “She’s a flight attendant. I met her playing softball.”
“That’s pretty cool. She sounds like a keeper.”
“Yeah. Julie is different.”
“What makes you say that?” Callie asked.
Tim tilted his head. “Oh, I’m on your couch now, is that it? What will this session cost me?”
“It depends on your insurance,” she said with a chuckle.
Al squeezed the stick in his hand. Their small talk came so natural. Tim was clearly terrified of being out on the water, yet he was slick and charming.
Tim thought for a moment. “Julie is someone to live up to. All the girls I went out with before… They were, I dunno, they were just dates. I had fun, they had fun, but I honestly never wanted to spend any real time with them. Julie, she’s not like that.”
Morgan raised his hand for a high-five. “Score.”
Tim left the hand unanswered. “Nah. Believe me, I know a score. But Julie... I want to impress her because I sincerely want to impress her.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if that makes any sense.”
Morgan lowered his hand.
William gave Tim a wide smile. “Makes perfect sense to me, brother.”
Bullshit, thought Al. If she isn’t a score, she will be soon enough. Some men treated women well and some did not, but they all wanted the same thing. His mother had pounded that simple fact into him. And as he grew into puberty, he found it to be true. Sometimes it was all he could think about. You only had to look at the nearest screen to know how the world worked. Television, movies, the internet. It was all the same. Men wanted sex. Women controlled access. Once you understood that, life made sense. It certainly explained why Al’s father had run away with his smoking hot secretary.
“She must be quite a girl,” Callie noted.
Tim nodded. “Yeah, we’ve only been out three times, but she’s pretty amazing.”
“Three dates and she still isn’t putting out?” Al blurted. He wasn’t sure how many dates it should take, but he wanted to sound like he knew. He wanted to sound like one of the guys.
Callie glared. “Al, don’t be a jackass.”
He felt his stomach drop. Good job, Stevens. Way to let ‘em know what an idiot you are.
Tim said, “Right now, I just want to see her again.”
Al felt his face grow red. The rest of the world never had trouble getting laid. He turned to watch the river behind them and bit the inside of his cheek. It isn’t too late. Apologize. Tell them it was a stupid comment and you’re sorry. Apologizing always worked, even when you didn’t do anything wrong. Especially when you didn’t do anything wrong.
“Listen, Tim,” he began.
Morgan stood up and pointed. “What the shit!”
A clearing opened on the right. More than twenty Triceratops stood along the curved shore. The raft drifted straight toward them.
Buddy’s hackles rose and he began to bark. Arp Arp Arp Arp Arp Arp!
William scooped water with the shovel, trying to move them back out to the middle. Morgan plopped down on his seat.
A large male sporting a half-broken horn above his right eye lifted his head and squawked like a tropical bird. He stood with his shorter front feet in the water and his back legs on solid ground. Spiked quills grew along the top of his tail. Buddy continued barking, a non-stop Arp Arp Arp! All of the Triceratops turned to look at them.
The half-horned male charged, kicking up spray. Everyone scrambled to the far side of the raft.
William shouted, “Spread out or we’ll tip over!” He moved back to the empty side, facing the dinosaurs, and pushed at the water with the shovel. For a moment, Al thought William was trying to splash the animals, then he realized he was trying to push the raft away from them. Al raised his stick, ready to shove off of the animal’s face if it got close enough.
Six other Triceratops followed the half-horn, charging into the water in a great phalanx. “They’ll pop the raft,” Tim said. Each animal sported long javelin horns and a parrot beak.
A surge of water from the rushing dinosaurs reached the raft and pushed it farther from the shore. Al grabbed one of the nylon straps on the edge of the raft and held tight.
Callie pointed. “Look, they’re stopping.” The seven dinosaurs glared, standing in water up to their chins. Their faces formed a wall of horns. Their massive heads turned as one, the horns slowly tracking the passing raft.
William stopped paddling. “They can’t come in.” He laughed. “Their heads are too heavy.” The wide frills growing out of the backs of their skulls looked like solid bone. “Those frills must weigh three hundred pounds. If they go in any deeper, they’ll drown.”
“Look at them all,” Callie pointed. Beyond the shoreline, the forest opened up to reveal a great open slope. A series of rolling hillsides covered with thousands of animals stretched off in the distance as far as they could see. “It’s like those paintings of bison on the prairie."
Hank pulled his cell phone out of a plastic baggie. “Cameras!” He held the phone steady to record a video while several others raised their phones.
The raft floated away from the clearing and the trees closed in again along the shore. The seven Triceratops slowly retreated from the water. A pair of short-horned juveniles wandered down to the bank and lapped with fat tongues.
When the Triceratops were no longer visible, Buddy finally stop barking.
Morgan sealed up his camera in a plastic bag. “We are going to be so famous when we get back. I wonder what they will call us on the news.” He counted on his fingers. “The Prehistoric Eight.”
“Hey,” said Callie. “You forgot about Buddy.” She gave the dog a scratch on his chin.
“I don’t think they would count the dog, babe,” Hank said. “Besides, I’ve been thinking. There may not be any publicity about us at all. We may get money just to keep quiet.”
“What?” said Morgan. “No way. We’ve got the best story ever.”
Al thought Hank might be onto something. If they did somehow make it back, the government would cover this up before word got out that time travel was possible. There was a good chance all eight of them would quietly disappear. Al wondered if they should be in such a big hurry to get home.
Hank crossed his arms. “Between the liability suits and the hush money, we could all become millionaires.”
Callie said, “I could keep quiet for a few million bucks. I’d quit my job. Hearing other people complain all day gets old.”
“Europe,” said Hank. “We could honeymoon in Europe for a year.”
Callie grinned. “Sounds like fun.”
“I would buy the biggest party house and never work again,” said Morgan, rocking back and forth. “Sweet!”
“You’d burn through it in less than a year.” Callie chuckled. “What about you, Tim? What would you do with a million dollars?”
“I’d help Julie pay for the hours and training she needs to get her professional license. Then I’d have my own personal pilot. We could go anywhere.”
“Funding her pilot’s license would seal the deal, huh, bro?” Morgan said with a dirty grin.
Callie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Boys!”
Boys? Al thought. Morgan can say whatever the hell he wants, but I’m the one who gets called a jackass?
Tim smiled. “You know Morgan, I would help her out regardless.”
“You would, wouldn’t you,” Callie said. “That little fact, Morgan, is what will get him laid.” Tim’s smile grew wider.
“Hey, whatever it takes.” Morgan winked at her. “Not everyone can rely
on the formidable reputation of Morgan’s organ.” This brought a round of laughter.
Al turned away from the group and scanned the sides of the river for the so-called football. He forced himself to breathe slowly and thought about what he would do if he became a millionaire. He could make the trip to Nevada a lot more often. His year revolved around the annual vacation, which his friends thought was a gambling trip. He claimed he went to Reno because the odds were better than in Vegas, but in fact, it was easier to get to brothels in northern Nevada.
Each year, for four days, Al Stevens knew love. The release came after twelve months of building, pent-up frustration and those last few weeks were both unbearable and delicious with anticipation. He thought about that first moment, when the girl would reach down into his pants and grasp him. He cherished that first grab almost as much as the climaxes that came later. A multi-million dollar windfall from the government would buy a lot of grabbing.
You don’t need that anymore, he told himself. He actually had a chance with someone. Lisa Danser had felt his erection and smiled. The girls at the brothels smiled, but they were paid to smile.
Al wondered if there was some way he and Lisa might stay behind when the others returned to the present. Here was an entire world to conquer, without all of the bullshit of modern life. They could be Tarzan and Jane. She would never go for it. She would hate him forever if she knew he was even thinking about it.
As they rounded a bend, a smaller river joined theirs from the right. The swirling currents spun them around in circles. Morgan held his hands overhead like a kid on a roller coaster. Beyond the junction, the river slowed again and William used the shovel to straighten them out.
Dizzy from the spinning, Al turned to face forward once more, just missing a swarm of bubbles that surfaced behind the raft.
- - - - -
The bubbles rose from the nostrils of a forty-foot crocodile which had followed them from the ruined building. It had feasted a day earlier on the carcass of a drowned ankylosaurus and would not be hungry again for more than a month. But the raft had piqued its curiosity, so it followed. The great reptile had lived for eighty years but had never smelled anything like it. Submerged, the crocodile allowed the current to push it along, adjusting its course with the occasional swish of its fifteen-foot tail.
At first, the strange yellow shape seemed like flotsam, speeding up or slowing down with the currents. But every so often, it wriggled and splashed like an injured animal. There was some kind of life to it. Life meant food.
At the Triceratops shore, the object had really come to life, but the crocodile had steered clear, wary of the old guardians along the shore. Their horns posed no threat to an animal that struck from below, but their sharp beaks could slice through hide and bone.
After the yellow object floundered and flailed out to the middle of the river, it grew motionless again. The crocodile drifted and watched. Finally, it decided to attack. The reptile exhaled and sank to the bottom, where it began to swing its tail back and forth in larger and larger motions, increasing speed. It angled upward; poised to open wide just before it reached the surface.
[ 30 ]
Lisa held the length of pipe like a sword as she crept across the laboratory. She heard small angry hisses and a wet smacking sound. She was trapped on the upper floor. The only way back to the café was to climb down the outside of the building and run past whatever was down there. It can’t reach you up here, whatever it is, she thought. Then she pictured the dinosaurs with the long necks. If one of those came along, there wasn’t anywhere to hide.
She had to see what was making the noise. She crept to the end of the leaning shelves and looked over the jagged wall. Nothing.
Uck! Uckawk! A barking screech came from the back side of the shelves. The pipe felt heavy in Lisa’s hands. She jumped around the corner.
Three small winged creatures pecked at the open side of the dead man who had been sliced in half. They looked like oversized bats with stork-like beaks. Blue veins ran across pale blotches on their piebald skin. The largest pulled a length of entrails from the body.
“Hey! Get away from that!” Lisa burst forward, waving the pipe. The reptiles took flight, screaming a guttural Uck Uck Uck at her. The pterosaurs flew to the tops of the surrounding canopy, where they landed gracefully and perched in a row.
“Yuck.” The sliced man lay by a doorway that led out of the lab and into whatever room or hallway had existed next to it. The body had been cut in a diagonal line that ran from one side of his head to the middle of his thigh. He had probably been trying to flee from the room when the accident occurred. Organs lay on the floor, spilling out of his abdominal cavity like some kind of mortician’s cornucopia.
Lisa grabbed the man by his wrist and began to drag him. At least he’s light. Only a thin strip of his head remained, with an ear attached to a slice of skin. The side of the man’s torso folded together as she pulled, and a burgundy knot fell out. She would have to come back for it. She dragged the body around the domino shelves and over to the section of floor that sloped down to the river.
She released the half-body and pushed it down the slope with the pole. It soon floated away in the river below.
“You gotta go back for the guts, Lisa.” She thought she might be able to spear the loose organs that had fallen from the bisected body. She did not want to have to pick them up.
As she returned around the shelves, Lisa saw that one of the pterosaurs had beat her to it. It snatched the last two round globs. They filled a pelican-like pouch under its chin. Lisa raised the pole and the pterosaur departed to the trees.
“Thanks, partner,” she said, giving a sarcastic thumbs-up as it flew away.
Lisa moved on to Mister Slushy, ready to get the worst over with. She used the pole to push the ceiling tiles off of his body. His left foot had somehow escaped the charring or electrocution that had turned the rest of him into a soggy, blackened mess. She grabbed the foot and pulled. He was heavier, but he created his own slug-like trail as he she dragged him. He moved along easily on the slick fluid and black flakes. “Bye-bye, Mister Slushy,” Lisa said as he disappeared over the wall.
Finally she turned to the woman who had told them about the time device. Lisa repositioned the metal pipe under the concrete slab. It took several tries, but she finally levered the concrete high enough to drag out the body. The woman’s legs bent unnaturally in multiple places, all the way down to her... her shoes! Lisa dropped the woman’s shoulders and stooped next to her feet, pulling off a pair of patent leather flats. Size seven! Forget about moccasins. She wondered if she should have stripped the other bodies, or at least looked for anything useful in their pockets.
Lisa sat down and put on the shoes. It’s not like these even matter, she told herself. The others will be back soon and we’ll all be heading home. Her bedroom closet was full of shoes. Lisa flexed her toes. It felt good to have shoes on both feet again and it would be easier to climb back downstairs. She realized that if she had found the shoes earlier, she could have gone down the river with the others. With Al.
Lisa rummaged through the woman’s pockets, but found only a parking stub. Her belongings must be in her purse, probably stashed in some other part of the building. Lisa pictured an employee break room just outside the radius of the device. She laughed. Probably the same room where they kept the gun locker. She took the woman by the arms and dragged her to the slope. Lisa felt something separate inside the woman’s shirt along the way, but the body held together long enough to make it to the slide.
After the woman disappeared under the muddy current, Lisa inhaled deeply through her nose, testing the air. The first smell she noticed was her own stench, much worse after working in the heat. That was a good sign. She wiped her hands on her pants, determined to use an entire bottle of antibacterial lotion down in the café, and climbed downstairs.
Helen wore a kind face. “That must have been unpleasant.”
Lisa smiled. “You
don’t know the half of it,” she said, exhausted. “There were bird dinosaurs picking at one of the bodies.” She was alone in the café now with Helen. If the others never came back, what then? Tears started to well in her eyes. She wondered if she had made a horrible mistake.
Helen wrapped her in a lavender-scented hug. “Let’s get your mind off it, sweetie. Let’s see if we can do something with all that equipment they found upstairs.”
[ 31 ]
Four feet below the raft, the giant crocodile detected a new smell. It changed its trajectory at the last moment, descending back to the cooler depths. It tasted blood in the water, faint but unmistakable. Blood almost always meant easy prey. The crocodile turned upstream to follow the scent, scattering a school of small silver fish.
The blood led straight to the split-faced body of Doctor Anderson. The crocodile felt satiated as it gulped the corpse into its gullet. The reptile would not need to eat for a month thanks to yesterday’s Ankylosaurus, but it might not find anything else for twice that long. A stuffed belly insured against lean times. The smell of blood continued to waft by, and so the crocodile swam further upstream, engorging on the buffet that wafted along on the currents.
As the crocodile fed, the raft drifted farther away behind it, forgotten.
- - - - -
Beyond the junction, the river grew wider and the current slowed to a crawl. William paddled with the shovel to keep them moving. Callie pointed at his hand. “You mentioned a couple of boys, but I don’t see a ring.”
“Nope. Never married. You are looking at an honest-to-goodness single black father.” He chuckled and continued, “Their mother was a lot of fun. Probably not too unlike the girls Tim used to go out with. She never quite grew up, though. So I raised the boys myself. Those boys helped me grow up.”
“How old are they?” Callie asked.
“Eleven and thirteen.”