The Dinosaur Four

by Geoff Jones

  “No.” Tim put his palm on the orange metal. “I need it.”

  Al looked at him, either threatened or confused. Tim wasn’t sure which.

  “It floats,” Tim explained. “I need it to get across, unless you want to wait a couple of hours for me to run back to the beach and get my life jacket.”

  “Personal floatation device,” Morgan corrected. He handed the football to Tim.

  They took off their shoes and threw them across the river, along with their mobile devices. William lobbed the shovel across as well. It tumbled end over end as it flew and landed upright with the blade impaled on the opposite bank.

  William went first. He waded in until the water was up to his hips and then kicked off, performing an expert breast stroke. The current pushed him along, but soon he pulled himself out on the opposite shore, only a few yards downstream.

  Callie moved further to her left around a clump of trees. “I don’t think I can quite match up to an expert lifeguard.” She pointed to the end of the pool, where the water disappeared in a straight edge. “And I want to keep clear of those falls.” The others followed her lead and moved further upstream as well.

  William gave Callie a big thumbs-up from the opposite side. “I gotcha.” He stood thigh-deep in the water, with one hand on a low branch.

  Callie dog-paddled sloppily, making Tim feel a little less self-conscious. She reached the opposite bank right where William waited for her. He helped her out of the water.

  Morgan followed close behind, showing slightly better form. He climbed out on his own.

  Al looked at Tim. “You gonna make it?”

  Tim smiled. “I think so.” He remembered attending a party in the second grade. A boy named Carl celebrated his ninth birthday at an elaborate indoor pool in the dead of winter while a blizzard howled outside. The other kids swam, rode the water slides, and jumped off the diving board. The rec center even had a zip line that carried them out over the pool for a six-foot drop into the water.

  Each child was required to demonstrate that he could swim one complete lap before performing the activities. Tim spent the entire party sitting on the side.

  “Come fish me out if I start to sink,” he said to Al.

  Holding the football out in front of him, Tim stepped into the river. It felt cool and refreshing. He clenched his toes in the mud, hoping they didn’t look like little snacks for whatever primeval reptiles lived in the pool.

  When he lowered the device, it floated, but it also tugged downstream as the current caught it. The orange light blinked on and off, calling to all crocodiles in the vicinity. Tim rotated the device until the light was directly on top.

  He thought about Al calling him a “follower” and gave a strong kick out toward the middle of the river, hugging the device tightly. He imagined teeth clamping onto his toes. He kicked harder.

  The football started to roll on him. Tim flailed with his feet. He overcompensated and the football rolled in the other direction. The current tugged it, almost tearing it from Tim’s hands. His face went under. He pictured a snapping turtle the size of a car, rising from the depths and latching onto his legs with a giant beak.

  Tim kicked hard and broke the surface. He pulled himself up onto the football and rode it like a sled. Somehow he managed to stay upright. He scissored his legs as fast as he could, with short powerful strokes.

  Before he knew it, Tim bumped into the opposite shore, several feet upstream of William, who waded toward him, laughing. “I never seen anyone swim like that.” He took the football under his arm and helped Tim out of the water.

  Breathing heavily and nodding, Tim turned to look back at the river.

  Al emerged close behind. “Good job, kid,” he said.

  “Buddy!” Callie called out. The dog appeared on the far bank and gave out a quiet yip. “Come on, boy!” Buddy cocked his head to one side and wagged his tail. “I’m not leaving him here,” she informed the group. “I’ll swim back across and get him if I have to.”

  “Now just hold on,” William instructed. He stood up straight, held perfectly still and spoke firmly. “Buddy, come!” He jabbed his finger down, pointing at the ground next to his foot.

  The dog stopped wagging. He gave another small yip and made one of his flying leaps, directly out over the water. Buddy landed with a splash but kept his head above the surface. William let out a quiet cheer. The dog crossed the pool, climbed out, and moved next to him, where he shook vigorously and then sat down.

  “That’s a good boy,” he said, leaning over to rub Buddy’s head. The dog’s tail wagged back and forth.

  Tim looked off into the jungle. “The café can’t be more than a couple of hours away, can it?”

  William pointed back to the right. “Let’s angle off that way and see if we can find the main river again.” He started into the woods and Buddy heeled next to him.

  Tim nodded. “We might actually make it back in time.” The Triceratops hillside changed his mind.

  [ 42 ]

  “Fuck, that’s a lot of dinosaurs.” An open slope stretched out before them, covered by thousands of Triceratops. Blackened stumps and fallen tree trunks dotted the hill, showing evidence of a forest fire some years earlier. The Triceratops herd spread out as far as Al could see in either direction, grazing on the short green plants that had sprung up in the aftermath of the fire. It would take hours to go around. Al did not think they had any chance of getting back to the café before the device went off.

  “Those are my favorite,” Morgan said as he looked at the herd. Buddy clearly felt differently. His tail curled under his belly and one of his back legs trembled.

  “What now?” Tim asked.

  “We could make some noise,” Morgan said. “Drive them off like we did with the duck-face ones.”

  William shook his head. “That noise attracted the Tyrannosaurus. We don’t know if these guys frighten so easily. Also, there were about ten of those duckbills. There must be thousands of Triceratops.”

  Buddy emitted a high-pitched whimper. Callie knelt next to him. “You were here before, weren’t you boy?” She looked at the others. “That means we’re close. Buddy must have come here earlier from the top of the hill. One of these guys chased him back to the cliff.” She pointed to the right. “The river can’t be far in that direction.”

  “We can’t go that way.” William said.

  “Why the hell not?” asked Morgan.

  “Because this herd goes all the way down to the shore. This is the same hillside we saw from the raft.”

  Morgan nodded slowly. “What the shit.”

  “Well, if we can’t go forward up the hill and we can’t go right, that only leaves one choice,” Al said. “We head left, until we find a way around.” The hillside stretched for at least a mile, if not more. There was no way to see how far it really went.

  Al thought that the hillside would block them even more effectively than the tributary river, which had added an hour to their trip. The device would go off before they reached the café. It would still take them back, but it would return them someplace farther east. Maybe they would end up inside a hollowed-out chunk of a different building, and another group would be sent here. Of course, they would not have a time machine with them.

  I will not go back, Al thought. He had a woman waiting for him here. Al had never had that before. If we go back, she’s history.

  He had begun composing a short speech he would give when the time machine began to tick. He would get clear of the device and then return to the café alone. All he had to do was step aside. The others would go home without him. They would understand. In fact, he would be a hero; both back home and when he returned to the café. Al Stevens, the man who stayed behind for his woman. Lisa would be his.

  William looked left. “Let’s get going.” He started off, skirting along the thin growth of trees at the bottom of the slope. The others filed along behind him.

  “Do you know why Triceratops is my favorite?”r />
  “No, Morgan,” William said.

  “Because they’re so horny!”

  “That’s nice, Morgan,” William said.

  They moved in a single-file line, weaving in and out of the trees that grew along the base of the barren hillside. Most of the Triceratops kept away from the forest’s edge. Al wondered if there was a good reason for that. Out in the open, they could not be ambushed.

  After hiking for fifteen minutes, they encountered a lone animal feeding on thick vegetation near the bottom of the hill. William led the group in a wide circle deeper into the woods to steer clear of the creature. After putting it safely behind them, William moved back to the bottom of the slope and gazed ahead, his hands on his hips. “This detour is costing us too much time.” There was still no end in sight.

  Callie pointed to a cleft in the hillside just a short distance ahead. “William, what about that gulch up there?” The group continued forward until they reached the bottom of the ravine, which ran straight up the hill. It looked like it had been carved by rainfall that washed down the barren slope, but now stood dry as a bone. The Triceratops herd kept its distance from the gulch on both sides.

  At the base of the slope, the gully flattened out in a wide fan of smaller crevices, but for most of its length, the sides of the gulch formed a trough with ten-foot walls. In three different spots, the gulch was worn down where game trails crossed it.

  A large blackened tree trunk stood next to the gulch at the top of the hillside, where the ground flattened out again. The ravine fanned out in a web of smaller cracks near the tree, just as it did at the bottom of the slope. Al thought the tree looked like it had been struck by lightning. He pictured the crown exploding and burning branches raining across the once-forested hillside Beyond the stump, the unburned forest began again.

  William looked at his watch. “The device will go off in less than four hours.”

  “How far do you think we are from the café?” Callie asked.

  “Less than an hour, I think. But there’s really no way to be sure. If we stay in the ravine and keep quiet, they might leave us alone.”

  “Might?” Al said.

  “Yes,” William replied. “And I’m not going to argue about it. Let’s do it.”

  Callie nodded. She looked around and then walked up the slope to enter the gulch.

  Tim took the time machine from Morgan. “I’ll carry it for a bit now, if you don’t mind.”

  “No problemo.” Morgan started up behind Callie.

  “You just had a turn, right before Morgan,” Al said. “Why don’t you let me take it?” The shortcut up the ravine meant they might make it to the café before the timer went off. He would never convince Lisa to stay behind with him. But if he carried the device, he might find the opportunity to accidentally drop it somewhere near the top. With a little luck, it would roll all the way down the hill.

  Tim shook his head. “I got it.” He turned and started up the ravine.

  “Have it your way.” Al said. “I’m just trying to help.”

  William and Buddy followed Tim. The dog walked close to the delivery man, its tail still tucked between its legs.

  Al thought back to their discussion about returning to the café. He tried to imagine meeting himself. It seemed ludicrous. He wondered how the people in the café would react when duplicate versions of themselves suddenly showed up and started yelling at them to clear out. There won’t be duplicates of all of us, Al thought. Hank, Beth, and Patricia would be missing. He wondered what the original Hank, Beth and Patricia would think about that.

  Al used the shovel as a walking stick as he climbed. The sides of the ravine slowly closed in and rose to the height of his shoulders. Loose rocks filled the cleft and he had to step carefully to avoid tripping.

  As they hiked up the gully, the walls on their sides rose and fell, sometimes hiding them entirely, and sometimes dropping low enough for them to see out. The herd was spread out on this part of the hill and the animals seemed to take no notice of them. The afternoon sun shone down on their faces from directly ahead.

  Every so often, Buddy let out a low whimper. William murmured quiet reassurances. Any time Buddy tried to move past him, William whispered, “Heel,” and the dog dropped back. Fortunately, Al realized, Buddy could not see out of the gully at all. Hundreds of Triceratops covered the hillside around them in every direction except for straight ahead and straight behind.

  At the first game crossing, Callie crouched by a large rock. She raised her hand behind her and patted the air downward, signaling the others to stop. A few feet ahead, the gulch had been trampled flat where it was intersected by a trail that crossed the hillside along the contour of the slope.

  Al craned his neck. Three small Triceratops nibbled on spiky succulents to the right, about forty feet away. The distance felt safe, but he remembered how deceptively fast the duck-billed dinosaur had moved.

  On the left, a larger Triceratops marched along the game trail straight toward the ravine. Al hunkered back down, trying to hide.

  William squatted above him in the crevice with one hand on Buddy’s collar. While the Triceratops crossed above, William used his other hand to stroke the dog’s muzzle. He looked ready to squeeze it shut if Buddy began to bark.

  The animal passing above them was not as large as the one that had battled the tyrannosaur under the cliff, but it shook the ground as it walked and small pebbles rolled into the gully. For a moment it blocked out the sun. Any one of these animals has enough meat on it to feed us for months, Al thought. The dinosaur wandered over by the trio of adolescents and nibbled on the same spiky plants. Its body blocked their view of the ravine.

  William exhaled after the animal passed and gave Buddy a gentle pat on the head. Callie rose from behind the rock and climbed upward. The four animals grazing off to the right ignored her. Morgan, Tim, William, and Al followed one at a time.

  They continued to climb. Halfway up the hillside, they passed the second game crossing without incident. None of the animals were close to the second crossing, so they just continued onward and upward, stepping around massive footprints in the dirt.

  The ravine cut deeper into the hillside as they climbed. Soon they were in a channel that rose well over their heads on either side. “This ain’t so bad,” Morgan said. A moment later, a Triceratops skidded to a stop on the wall above. Dirt slid down onto Morgan as the animal backed up a step to keep from falling in. Its neck frill changed color, flaring from a dull brown to a deep rusty red. The creature bleated at Morgan, a stuttery, neighing noise that sounded angry.

  Morgan yelped and dropped to the ground with his hands over his head.

  Al watched from further down the gully, frozen. He thought once again that Morgan was the biggest idiot he had ever met. If the Triceratops were to fall into the ravine, it would slide down on all of them, like a piston plunging through a valve.

  The animal turned and looked slowly from one person to the next. It pawed the ground and a chunk of dirt broke free, creating a small avalanche on the side of the ravine. The Triceratops stepped back. It would become trapped and injured if it fell in, Al realized. He hoped the animal realized this as well.

  “Just keep walking,” William ordered in a low voice behind Morgan. He held Buddy in his arms with one hand firmly clamped on the dog’s muzzle.

  Morgan rose and stepped forward. The Triceratops snorted and turned its massive head to track his movement up the gully. Morgan stumbled in the loose dirt as he watched the beast above him. The animal snorted.

  “Don’t watch it. Just watch your feet, Morgan.” The back of William’s neck was soaked with sweat. Morgan got to his feet and continued. William started up after him, and soon he was directly under the Triceratops. He stopped watching it and followed his own advice, looking down at the ground ahead of him. Buddy’s eyes locked on the dinosaur above and he let out a continuous whimper-whine, but William passed uneventfully.

  Al brought up the rear. The Tric
eratops watched him but still did not move from its spot up on the lip of the gully. Al stopped and looked at it. Pale green drool dripped from its beaked mouth. Al continued up the slope. When he turned to look back, the creature had ambled out of sight.

  Ahead, William called quietly. “Hey Morgan, are they still your favorite?”

  Morgan flipped him a middle finger without looking back.

  [ 43 ]

  Morgan crouched behind Callie just below the third and final crossing. He pictured hundreds of animals marching back and forth, wearing down the sides of the ravine. He wondered if the rainy season would come and wash their path away.

  On the right, just beyond the third game crossing, stood the great splintered tree trunk. The remaining shards of wood looked like a charred, grasping hand, reaching toward the sky.

  The upper tributaries of the ravine dissipated in a series of smaller cracks that branched out in several directions beyond the tree. Morgan pointed at the largest of the cracks and whispered, “That won’t provide much cover.”

  Callie leaned out and craned her neck. Beyond the tree, the hill flattened and the woods grew close. “The forest isn’t far, though. We could make it there in two minutes, easy. Faster if we run.”

  “Don’t you think running will attract their attention?” Morgan said loudly.

  “Shhh!” Callie whacked him on the chest. She shuffled backwards into the ravine, forcing Morgan to back up behind her. “You are going to attract their attention.”

  Five Triceratops stood off to the right, huddled in a circle and facing one another as if carrying on a conversation. One raised its head and sniffed.

  “How close do you think those guys are?” Callie whispered.

  William rose up slightly and peered over the edge. “It’s hard to tell. They are so huge, I can’t get a sense of scale. Maybe two hundred feet?”

  He looked over to the left side. Morgan followed his gaze. In that direction the nearest animal was at least three times as far away.