Jurassic World

by David Lewman

  “Blue,” Claire said, remembering the only Velociraptor to survive the attack of the Indominus Rex.

  Mills raised an eyebrow. “Potentially the second most intelligent piece of life on this planet. And the last of her kind. She must be preserved.”

  Claire shook her head. “She can pick up your scent a mile off. You’ll never catch her.”

  “Well,” Mills said, smiling, “we thought you might know someone who could help.”

  Claire knew exactly whom he meant. “Owen Grady won’t help you.”

  Mills looked her straight in the eye. “Maybe you could convince him.”

  * * *

  Owen Grady had spent several years training Velociraptors on Jurassic World. He had been on the island when things went terribly wrong. He and Claire had worked together then to survive, but most of the time, they did not see eye to eye.

  Reluctantly Claire went to visit Owen high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, where he was building a cabin for himself next to a lake, miles away from the nearest town. By the time Claire got there, Owen already knew why she’d come.

  “Lockwood’s little flunky called last week,” he said, putting down his hammer. “Rescue operation. Save the dinosaurs from the island that’s about to explode. What could possibly go wrong? It’s insane. You can’t do it.”

  “I have to try,” Claire insisted. “When these animals are gone, that’s it! There’s no more.”

  Owen shook his head and offered her a bottle of water. “You can’t make this better, Claire. You have to live with it.”

  Taking the water bottle, Claire decided to play her trump card.

  “Blue’s alive,” she said. “You going to let her die?”

  Owen was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “Yeah.”

  “You don’t mean that!” Claire snapped. “You spent years of your life working with her. Come on, you raised her!”

  Owen said nothing. He just picked up his hammer and resumed building.

  “Why did I think you would care?” Claire said, getting back into her rental car. “Sorry to have wasted your valuable time.”

  She slammed the door and drove off. Owen watched her go. Then he turned back to his work.

  * * *

  That evening, just after sunset, Owen sat alone in his Airstream trailer in front of an old laptop, face aglow from flickering video images of times past. On his screen Owen watched a video from several years ago of him training Baby Blue and the other three Raptors: Echo, Delta, and Charlie, who were sadly lost to the Indominus Rex.

  The Owen on the video clip said to the Raptors, “Take it easy. There’s plenty of food,” and put his hand up; and the four animals came to a halt like a unit, squad, or even a family.

  Owen continued to watch the video as the dim lights painted his face inside the trailer. He smiled to himself for a moment, remembering even after all this time how it felt to be with these animals, and realized that he had no choice.

  If Blue was in danger, Owen had to save her.

  We resurrect the most lethal predators that this planet has ever seen and then we’re shocked to find out they consider us prey?

  —Dr. Ian Malcolm

  At a small airport in Novato, California, Zia and Franklin handed their bags to a crew member, who stored them in the private plane supplied by Lockwood.

  Franklin looked at the small plane nervously.

  “Relax,” Zia told him. “You’re more likely to die riding a horse than in a plane.”

  “No, I’m not,” Franklin disagreed. “Because I won’t get on a horse. So my chances of dying on one are zero.”

  The pilot approached Claire, who was anxiously staring at the gate to the runway. “We’re ready, ma’am,” he said. “Let’s get your expedition team on board.”

  Claire looked at her team of two young adults with little to no field experience and shuddered to think of the task that lay ahead. But somehow she managed to hide her concern and speak enthusiastically. “Okay, guys! Let’s go!” As they boarded the plane, she took one more look back at the gate, hoping Owen would come running through it at the last possible second. He’d said no, but she still hoped he might change his mind. They could really use his expertise on this expedition.

  He wasn’t there.

  But once Claire got inside the plane, she was surprised to see Owen already sprawled in a seat with a ratty baseball cap over his eyes. “You’re here,” she said, stunned.

  Owen tipped up his cap and gave her a look that seemed to say, “What’d you expect?”

  Claire introduced Owen to Zia and Franklin. Zia just nodded and calmly headed to the back of the plane. Franklin sat down next to Owen without shaking his hand or saying anything. He was too nervous to speak.

  “Terrified of flying, huh?” Owen said.

  “Would you ever ride a thousand-pound horse that’s been abused its whole life?” Franklin asked. “Because that’s the kind of risk we’re taking here.”

  Owen shrugged. “I rode a motorcycle through the jungle with a pack of Raptors.”

  Franklin just stared at him for a moment. “We are not compatible.”

  The plane took off. Franklin gripped the armrest tightly.

  * * *

  As the plane reached Isla Nublar, Claire and Owen gazed through the windows down at the abandoned island. Smoke rose from the volcano. They could see the old Aviary where the Pteranodons once lived. It was now so covered in vines it was barely recognizable. They caught each other’s eyes, remembering the carnage they’d seen on this island.

  The plane passed over the Jurassic World gates, cracked and covered in jungle growth, and landed on a small dirt runway. A powerful, heavily armed man was waiting, standing in front of three similarly armed trappers and containment workers.

  He approached the plane as Claire walked out onto the steps, and before she could get a word out, the man introduced himself: “Ken Wheatley. Welcome back to Jurassic World.”

  Claire looked past Wheatley to a makeshift base camp. There were several heavily armored vehicles, guarded by men with tranquilizer rifles. “This is some operation,” she said.

  “Mr. Lockwood takes his humanitarian efforts seriously,” Wheatley said with a tight grin. “Woe to the unprepared.”

  Zia and Franklin climbed down from the plane. Wheatley spoke to Zia first. “The Paleoveterinarian. You go to some kinda school for that?”

  Annoyed by this question, Zia just said, “I did,” in a flat voice.

  Wheatley turned to Franklin. “And you’re the computer guy?”

  “Systems architect,” Franklin corrected him. “ ‘Computer guy’ kinda makes it sound like I work at a store where they also sell refrigerators.”

  But Wheatley had already moved on. “And which one is the Raptor wrangler?”

  Owen stepped off the plane wearing a hoodie and plastic sunglasses. “Animal behaviorist,” he said, taking an instant dislike to Wheatley. He noticed Wheatley’s pistol and rifle. “And you’re, what, the Great White Hunter?”

  Now it was Wheatley’s turn to make a correction. “Expedition facilitator,” he said, his smile coldly sarcastic. He didn’t like Owen, either. “This way,” he grunted, leading them toward the base-camp tents.

  “Man, it’s hot here,” Franklin said, picking up his bag.

  “It’s about to get a whole lot hotter,” Zia said, looking off at the volcano spewing smoke and fire.

  Owen looked at the volcano with concern. “Hammond didn’t think the volcano would be a problem when he built this place?”

  “It’s been dormant for a thousand years,” Claire explained. “Experts swore it was extinct.”

  “Experts,” Wheatley sneered with contempt.

  At this, Claire shared a look with Owen. There was something about this guy that made them both uneasy. But with t
he enormous task at hand, they pushed this feeling aside and continued on.

  “How much time do we have before she blows up?” Owen asked, nodding toward the volcano.

  “Our volcanologist says it could happen anytime now,” Wheatley said. “The tremors are getting more frequent.”

  “Anytime now? Boy, that’s comforting,” said Franklin nervously. “I mean, aren’t we cutting it a bit close?”

  “A hundred men and a cargo ship don’t come easy,” Wheatley answered gruffly. “Want to see a pile of money disappear? Try moving animals against their will.”

  Claire noticed a tent with wounded men inside. “What happened?”

  “This island happened,” Wheatley said grimly. “I’ve lost five men already.” He turned to Owen. “You can thank your Velociraptor pal for two of them.”

  He strode on ahead. Owen gave Claire a look. They were both thinking the same thing.

  This isn’t going to be easy.

  First it was Jurassic Park, then Jurassic World. What’s next?

  —Dr. Ian Malcolm

  Inside a canvas tent, the team studied a map of the island identical to the one Claire had seen in Eli Mills’s office. She put her finger on it. “The only place the tracking system can be activated is here, in the bunker under this radio tower. We get there and we can tap into the main Radio Frequency Identification receiver.”

  “So how do we get there?” Franklin asked. “Are there secure underground tunnels? I heard all big theme parks have secret underground tunnels.”

  Wheatley smirked, but Claire said, “Actually, there are some tunnels under the park, but none that would get us from here to the bunker. We’ll have to drive.”

  With her finger, she traced a route on the map from their current location to the radio tower. “We’ll go down Main Street and through the Gyrosphere Valley.”

  Franklin handed out tablet computers modified with antennae. “I fitted these tablets with the old park software. They’ll be able to track each dinosaur’s chip and identify the species once we tap into the system.”

  “We have capture teams ready to save as many as we can,” Wheatley said. “But your Raptor’s the one we’re worried about. She’s slippery. It’s like trying to catch a squid with your bare hands.”

  Owen smiled and shook his head. “You can’t catch Blue. We have to just hope she shows herself.”

  “You think she might do that because of your…connection?” Wheatley asked.

  “Our auras vibrate at the same frequency,” Owen answered. “We synced our biological rhythms over many nights hunting naked under the full moon.”

  Wheatley just stared at him.

  “I’m messing with you, man,” Owen confessed with a grin. “I know what she likes to eat.”

  VRRRROOOM! A big six-wheeled armored military vehicle pulled up. Covered in heavy protective metal, it was built to drive through explosives.

  “I call that one,” Franklin said as he moved to enter the massive vehicle.

  Claire’s team and Wheatley’s trackers piled into two armored vehicles and headed out through the security gates in the fence surrounding the base camp. They were followed by a cage truck just large enough for a Velociraptor.

  In one vehicle, Owen sat between Zia and Claire. Wheatley and three of his trackers cleaned their tranquilizer rifles. Through a window, Zia looked up at a guard in a security tower. His hands were on a huge automatic gun.

  Franklin knocked on the inside wall of the vehicle, testing its strength. “The T. rex’d be dead by now, right?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “What’s the life span?”

  “It’s impossible to know the maximum life span,” Owen said as they rumbled and bounced along. “Especially of a clone in a completely different environment. Take a caveman who would’ve lived twenty years in his natural environment. Feed him prime meals and give him health care, and he’s gonna live five times as long.”

  That wasn’t the answer Franklin wanted to hear. “So,” he repeated slowly to himself, “the T. rex’d be dead by now, right?”

  The caravan of three vehicles made its way into the jungle. Ash fell from the smoking volcano looming in the distance.

  They soon reached Jurassic World’s old Main Street. Once a place where park visitors took breaks from dinosaur sightseeing and grabbed a bite to eat, or purchased souvenirs for friends and family back home, this relic of happier times was now being swallowed up by the encroaching jungle. Vines climbed over the buildings. Windows were broken. Old merchandise from the gift shop was scattered on the ground.

  Claire stared out the reinforced windows of the armored vehicle, remembering the crowds running down this street, screaming and fleeing from the Pteranodons. She remembered trying to protect her nephews from the dinosaurs. The Velociraptors. The Tyrannosaurus rex. The Indominus Rex. The Mosasaurus….

  “There’s a Brachiosaurus,” Zia exclaimed, “right through those trees!”

  As they watched the huge, long-necked vegetarian nibble the leaves at the tops of the trees, Wheatley eyed Claire and Owen. “They’re not all so friendly,” he said. “Remember?”

  Claire and Owen locked eyes. Yes, they remembered.

  The caravan passed through Main Street and the scene quickly opened up onto Gyrosphere Valley. The vehicles rolled through the overgrown meadow littered with the bleached bones of dinosaurs that carnivores had picked clean. Broken and abandoned Gyrospheres, glass vehicles that visitors once drove among the giant dinosaurs of Jurassic World, were scattered around the valley floor like the forgotten toys of a giant.

  It didn’t take much longer for them to reach their target: a bunker dug into a mountain, overlooking the valley. Mounted high above the bunker was a tall, rusted radio tower.

  The three vehicles rolled up and parked. Claire’s team got out. Claire pointed to an access panel. Franklin patched in his tablet and started trying to get past the security system to open the bunker’s door.

  As Franklin worked, Owen, Claire, and Zia looked out over the ruined park.

  Suddenly, there was a loud rumble, and the earth shook violently!

  Franklin yelped and grabbed onto Owen. Claire steadied herself against the bunker wall. Zia just rolled with the tremor.

  Wheatley smiled at Franklin’s panic. “Easy, tiger. That was a small one.”

  Turning back to his tablet, Franklin punched in a few final numbers. The bunker doors slowly ground open. “After you, tiger,” he said to Wheatley with a wry smile.

  Wheatley went inside. Claire and her team followed him. Most of Wheatley’s men stayed outside to stand watch, their rifles ready.

  It was dusty inside the bunker, which was filled with long-dead computer monitors and radio equipment. Franklin opened a metal cabinet. Inside were hundreds of wires. He found the ones he was looking for and patched his laptop into the system. Here and there, lights blinked on as power began to surge through the long-dormant equipment.

  “Are the animals’ ID chips still transmitting?” Owen asked. “Wouldn’t the batteries be dead by now?”

  “The dinosaur is the battery,” Claire explained. “The transmitters are powered by body heat and the animal’s movement.” She put her palm against a hand scanner. It lit up, authorizing entry to the system. Turning to Franklin, she asked, “How long will it take you to—”

  “I’m in,” Franklin said.

  Owen raised his eyebrows, impressed. “They could use you at the National Security Administration.”

  “Applied,” Franklin said. “Twice.”

  “He lacks the interpersonal skills necessary for mainstream employment,” Zia explained.

  A map of the park appeared on a screen, with dots showing each dinosaur’s location. Several were clustered on the island’s eastern shore. “Those are the ones we’ve already caught,” Wheatley said. �
�Eleven species. Can you single out the Raptor?”

  “I need a species code,” Franklin said.

  “D-nine,” Owen said without hesitation.

  Franklin typed the code into his tablet. All but one of the dots disappeared.

  “There she is,” Owen said. He turned to Franklin. “Can you make the tracking system portable?”

  He handed Owen a tablet. “Already have. I just need to stay logged in here to transmit to your tablets.”

  “I’m going with you,” Zia told Owen. “We don’t know what condition she’s in.”

  “Could get ugly out there, Miss,” Wheatley warned.

  Zia held up a massive tranquilizer cartridge. “These are powerful sedatives. One too many and she could have respiratory failure. If that happens, you’re gonna need me around. Also, I’m not soft and witless like your comment implies.”

  She strode off, and Owen, amused, started to follow her out. Claire stopped him. “Hey,” she said, “be careful.”

  “If I don’t make it back,” he said, “remember you’re the one who made me come.”

  She smiled, and he left.

  * * *

  The military vehicle rumbled along the edge of the jungle. Inside, Owen studied his tablet. Blue was close.

  “Stop here,” he said. “She’ll know we’re coming no matter what, but I can’t get near her in this thing.” The vehicle braked to a halt.

  “Let’s load out,” Wheatley said.

  Owen led the way into the dense brush. Wearing a medical backpack, Zia followed close behind him. Wheatley and his men brought up the rear. They were on edge and alert, with their tranquilizer rifles ready.