Dinosaur Thunder

by James F. David

  Jeanette pushed Les out the door, looking back over her shoulder—no chicks in sight.

  “Dick?” Jeanette said. “Why do they call you guys dicks?” Jeanette giggled, finishing off Les Wilson’s self-control.

  “I think it comes from Dick Tracy, or maybe Fearless Fosdick,” Les said, realizing Jeanette was not interested and just teasing.

  Jeanette walked Les to the office, then sat on the edge of the desk while Les leaned against the wall. Les was the anti-Carson in many ways. Handsome but not rugged-looking, neat, reliable, tender, mainstream, and undoubtedly brave. Carson was good-looking if you liked country boys, sloppy, unreliable, unpredictable, reckless and antisocial, or at least socially indifferent. The most striking difference between Carson and Les was in their attitudes toward Jeanette. Carson took Jeanette for granted, but Les worshipped her. Sleeping alone for a month made being worshipped feel good.

  Jeanette wore a pink polo shirt with the Dinosaur Wrangler logo embroidered over her left breast, jean shorts, and pink flip-flops.

  “No tool belt today?” Les asked.

  “It’s an office day,” Jeanette said, scooting back on the desk, then crossing her legs. Jeanette smiled, pushed her short brown hair back off her forehead, knowing it would tumble back down. Then she let the tip of her tongue play with the small gap in her front teeth.

  “Any chance you could take a couple of hours off?” Les asked. “We could run over to the lake for a swim.”

  “What would my boyfriend think?” Jeanette asked.

  “You sure you’ve got a boyfriend?” Les asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “How come I never see him?”

  “He’s working with the government on something,” Jeanette said.

  “He wouldn’t want you sitting around here all the time having no fun, would he?”

  “Yeah, he would,” Jeanette said. “Besides, someone’s got to run the business while he’s gone.”

  “Just two hours,” Les pleaded.

  Jeanette wavered. Calls came in sporadically, and the answering service could handle any that came while she was gone. All the wranglers had assignments that would take them a few hours to handle, and each had two or three calls stacked on top of those. Jeanette looked at the clock.

  “I suppose I could do an early lunch,” Jeanette said. “Did you bring any food?”

  “Beer,” Les said.

  In that way, Les was just like Carson.

  “I’ll make a couple of sandwiches and grab my suit,” Jeanette said.

  “All right,” Les said, as excited as if she had agreed to go to bed with him.

  Jeanette made a chicken salad out of chicken chunks she had cut up for the chicks, and then spread it on bread. She threw in a bag of chips and two bottles of water. In the bedroom, Jeanette took off her clothes, grabbed her one-piece swimsuit and stepped into it, pulling it up. She looked in the mirror and then took pity on Les. Pulling the suit down, she picked out a two-piece, put it on, and then stood in front of the mirror. Carson had picked the suit, giving it to Jeanette for her birthday. It covered enough, but barely enough.

  Les earned this, Jeanette thought.

  Putting on a silver beach cover-up, Jeanette stepped into gray flip-flops, picked up the beach bag with her towel and the lunch, and left with Les.

  Les was attentive, opening the door to his pickup for her, and then jogging around to get in the driver’s side. Sally watched them go, unconcerned, and then walked slowly to the barn door, flopping down in front of it.

  The lake was only fifteen minutes away and not crowded. A few moms sat in lawn chairs, their children splashing in shallow water. They walked away from the families, gaining a little privacy. Les had a blanket, and they spread it on the grass.

  “Swim first?” Les said.

  “First?” Jeanette asked suspiciously.

  “Before we eat!” Les said.

  “Oh. Sure.”

  Jeanette pulled off her cover-up, and Les gawked. Until now, her clothes had camouflaged her body. Fighting to take his eyes away, Les stripped off his shirt and kicked off his sandals. Les was always so clean-shaven that Jeanette wondered whether he actually had body hair. There was chest hair, but not much. He wasn’t as hairy as Carson, and that was okay with Jeanette. Taking Les’s hand, Jeanette pulled him toward the water.

  “Let’s go,” she said, and they ran into the lake.

  Like most men, Les was a playful show-off and Jeanette let him perform. Les swam, dived, splashed, and picked Jeanette up and tossed her. They played like kids for a while, and then swam, Les demonstrating different strokes, and then floated next to each other, talking. After half an hour, Jeanette’s fingertips were puckered and they got out, drying, and then lying on the blanket. Drinking cold beer from the cooler, they ate the sandwiches and munched on chips, Les talking about police work, Jeanette telling him stories about runaway dinosaurs.

  “Seems like there are more and more loose dinosaurs turning up,” Les said.

  “Yeah,” Jeanette said. “I guess they suspended the reward for Visitor dinosaurs. They had to pay too many claims. Our company’s put in for ten claims for our customers. We get a share of the reward.”

  “Any of them predators—you know, dangerous dinosaurs?” Les asked.

  “Not really,” Jeanette said. “Mostly vegetarians, except for a couple of egg stealers.”

  “So, nothing like what happened in Orlando,” Les said.

  “Was there really a tyrannosaur loose?” Jeanette asked. “The Dinosaur Rangers deny it. Seems impossible to me.”

  “It was a tyrannosaur,” Les said, rolling up on his side, leaning on an elbow. “It ate a police horse.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened to it? Did they shoot it? Some people say the police killed the tyrannosaur and then took it away so people wouldn’t know.”

  “No, it wasn’t shot. That’s the weird part. They never found it. They couldn’t find the herd it was chasing either.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Jeanette said, thinking of the implications. “All these dinosaurs popping up. Are we heading toward another Time Quilt?”

  “They say we aren’t,” Les assured her. “If anything, it might be just a little leakage through time.”

  “That’s good,” Jeanette said, thinking about Carson’s velociraptors.

  Les rolled onto his back, so Jeanette rolled up on her side so she could see his body. Les was fit, with little body fat. He did not have a full six-pack, but there were hints along his abdomen. Jeanette ran her finger from his belly button to his rib cage. Then she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  “I have to get back to work,” Jeanette said, sitting up as his arms reached for her.

  “Now?” Les whined.

  “I’m in charge while Carson is gone,” Jeanette said, pulling on her cover-up.

  “Wait, there’s something I need to tell you,” Les said. “Those guys who were running the meth lab in the place next to yours? The case got kicked. The judge didn’t like me pretending to be a code enforcement officer. He said it queered the evidence, and they tossed it. All of it. The case went poof with it.”

  “When are they getting out?” Jeanette asked.

  “They’re out,” Les admitted, sitting up. “That’s why I thought I’d hang around with you for a while.”

  Jeanette appreciated Les’s offer, but she could not have a cop around with a barn full of illegal velociraptors. “I’ll be fine,” Jeanette said, not really certain.

  Les apologized all the way back to the ranch, and then left reluctantly, making Jeanette promise over and over again to call if she had any concerns. Touched by his guilt and his concern, Jeanette kissed him again, and then sent Les off.

  Jeanette checked the revolver in the box on the office floor, making sure it was loaded, and then took lunch to the chicks. Opening the door, she noted no chicks in sight. Jeanette sang “Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, T
i,” and chicks came running from hiding places, awking and hopping, jumping up at the food bowls. Jeanette put the bowls down and marveled at how fast the chicks were growing.

  “I think they’re bigger than they were this morning,” Jeanette said to Sally.

  Three calls about loose dinosaurs came in that afternoon, and Jeanette assigned the retrievals to her wranglers, although none would be able to respond until the next day. Doris had been slightly injured by a triceratops, but had single-handedly managed to use a cattle prod to force the monster into a corral with an electric perimeter. Unfortunately, no one had claimed the triceratops, and the owner of the corral wanted it removed. Jeanette told Doris to collect her fee and then call the Dinosaur Rangers to collect the triceratops.

  After feeding the velociraptors dinner, Jeanette played with them, then closed them in the barn and sat in the office, drinking iced tea, watching the light fade from the sky. Sally was lying in front of the screen door, sleeping. This was the time of day when Jeanette missed Carson the most, since work and the velociraptors kept her busy during the day. Evenings and nights were when she thought of Carson. Tonight, however, she felt guilty, because she was not thinking about Carson; she was thinking about Les, and the thrill she got when she kissed him.

  “Carson, you better get home soon,” she said, blaming him for her feelings.

  Sally stirred at Carson’s name, sitting up and barking at something in the dark. Jeanette’s hand dropped to her side, feeling the box on the floor next to her, and the gun resting on top. Sally settled down again, but Jeanette continued to finger the gun, watching the dark.

  21

  Confidential

  Kaylee Kemper is reliable, helpful, and attentive to her responsibilities. Given the confidential nature of the material that she comes in contact with, I particularly value her discretion.

  —Performance review for Kaylee Kemper by Nick Paulson, Supervisor

  Present Time

  Washington, D.C.

  “Kaylee, it’s Elizabeth.”

  “Hello, Ms. Hawthorne,” Kaylee Kemper said. “I’m sorry to say there isn’t any news today. I’m so discouraged.”

  “I’m not just discouraged, I’m fed up,” Elizabeth said. “I’m going to do something.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to look for Nick,” Elizabeth said.

  “But where? No one seems to know where he’s gone.” Kaylee was whispering now, as if she were entering into a conspiracy.

  “That’s where you can help me,” Elizabeth said.

  “Me? How?”

  Instinctively, Elizabeth dropped her voice to a near whisper. “To find Nick, I need to start somewhere. John told me he disappeared from a farm, or a ranch, in Florida, but he won’t tell me exactly where it is.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” Kaylee said.

  “I don’t want you to break any laws,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s not that,” Kaylee said. “I’d go to prison for Dr. Paulson. I just don’t know the exact address. I know it’s near Ocala, but that’s all. Dr. Gah called me from the preserve about the velociraptors, but all he said was that some man calling himself the Dinosaur Wrangler brought in two Visitors.”

  “Dinosaur Wrangler,” Elizabeth repeated.

  “That won’t help, Ms. Hawthorne. The Dinosaur Wrangler person disappeared with Dr. Paulson.”

  “I suppose,” Elizabeth said, thinking. “Thanks for your help.”

  “If I find anything out, I’ll call you,” Kaylee said.

  Hanging up, Elizabeth opened her laptop, and then she typed “Dinosaur Wrangler” into a search engine.

  22

  The Big One

  Evolution from sentience to partial-sapience or full-sapience requires billions of years, and not all species succeed in reaching it.

  —scienceray.com/philosophy-of-science

  Unknown Time

  Unknown Place

  The cowboy waited for them on the hill. By the time they reached the top, Nick realized the mounted rider was a police officer. Her badge and shoulder patch identified her as part of the Orlando Police force.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you,” she said, walking toward them, pulling her horse along by the reins.

  “Were you sent to find us?” Carson asked, hope rising.

  “Find you? No. I have no idea where I am. Don’t you?”

  “Hell no,” Carson said.

  “We’ve passed through a time junction connecting our present with the Cretaceous past,” Nick explained.

  “Did you crawl through a pipe?” Carson asked.

  “On a horse?” the officer said.

  “Horse?” Crazy Kramer said, eyes wide, reaching out to gently touch the horse’s neck.

  “Nick Paulson,” Nick said, offering his hand.

  Exchanging names, Officer Kris Conyers took off her helmet, wiping sweat from her brow. She wore her hair short, with bangs swept across her forehead. She had large eyes, slightly almond shaped, her face an oval that narrowed to a pointy chin. A mole marked the jawline on the left side of her face.

  “Dr. Paulson of the OSS?” Conyers asked. “Well, that can’t be good if you’re stuck here.”

  “We’re not stuck,” Carson said. “We’re going back the way we came as soon as we find his family.”

  “Yeah!” Crazy Kramer added, shaking his machete.

  Conyers looked sympathetically at Jacob and suspiciously at Crazy Kramer. “I’ll be glad to help, but I can’t get Torino back through a pipe, if that’s what you came through.”

  “Where is your entry point?” Nick asked.

  “Back down the valley,” Conyers said, pointing. “I didn’t get a good look at it, because I was running from a T. rex at the time. We came out of a little valley or ravine, or something. It was dark until just before we came out. I can find it easily enough by backtracking the trail.”

  “A blind man could follow that trail,” Wynooski said. “I could find it easy.”

  “There’s a T. rex back down your trail?” Carson said. “I say we crawl through the pipe and screw your friend Flicka.”

  Officer Conyers stepped in front of Carson, inches from his face. “That horse saved my life, and a lot of other people’s lives,” Conyers said, her nostrils flaring, her cheeks reddening. “If the horse doesn’t go, then I don’t go.”

  “Suits me,” Carson said.

  “We’ll resolve this later,” Nick said, trying to push between Carson and the officer. “The first priority is to find Jacob’s family and any other survivors.”

  “Survivors?” Officer Conyers asked.

  “There were thousands at one time,” Jacob said. “But disease, fires, earthquakes, fighting, famine—all the worst parts of the Bible—killed most of us. Others left to find a better place to live. There were two hundred and thirty-eight of us still alive when we got attacked.”

  “Attacked?” Conyers said.

  “Look, Roy, we don’t have time to fill you in on everything you missed,” Carson said.

  “I’ll explain as we walk,” Nick said.

  With a final glare at Carson, Conyers agreed to go along.

  “Maybe he better ride,” Conyers offered, pointing at Gah.

  Gah’s ankle was swollen, and his limp slowed them down. They helped Gah up into the saddle, Conyers adjusting the stirrups for the injured man. She had two water bottles in a saddlebag and passed those around. The bottles were drained. On top of the hill, Nick looked around while there was still light, Jacob next to him, Wynooski on the other side.

  “That’s where we need to go,” Jacob said.

  “Strange-looking formations,” Wynooski said.

  The horizon was a series of low green hills split by taller brown and gray spires. Finally Nick recognized what it was—the ruins of a city.

  “That’s Portland,” Jacob said. “There’s even less left than the last time I saw it. We’ve been having a lot of earthquakes. I think they brought down more buildings.”<
br />
  “Looks like some of your survivors,” Conyers said, pointing down the valley behind them.

  Everyone turned, looking into the shadow-filled valley.

  “Bring it on!” Crazy Kramer shouted, waving his machete.

  “We’ve got to go,” Jacob said, pulling Crazy Kramer down the hill, away from the advancing group.

  “Why?” Conyers asked, pulling Torino after the others.

  “They’re Inhumans,” Jacob said.

  “What does that mean?” Conyers said.

  “It means get your ass in gear, Hopalong,” Carson said, passing Conyers.

  “They’re people, but not like us. They evolved from a different biological root than we did,” Nick said, coming alongside the bewildered officer.

  “Oh, Torino, what have I gotten us into?” Conyers said.

  They hurried off the hill across the valley to the tree line. Pausing just inside, hidden in shadows, they watched for anyone or anything following.

  “They had to see us up there,” Dr. Gah said.

  “They saw us!” Wynooski said flatly. “A blind man could see us standing on top of that hill. I knew it was a bad idea to climb up there.”

  “You didn’t say anything,” Carson pointed out.

  “I’m not the one in charge,” Wynooski said.

  They worked their way through the forest, the horse a mixed blessing. With Torino carrying Gah, they could move faster, but the horse could not squeeze through tight spaces. They walked until everyone was staggering and tripping in the dark, finally resting in a small clearing. The only food they had were energy bars that Officer Conyers had in her saddlebag, which they split up, satisfying no one. They had refilled the empty water bottles at a stream, but split seven ways, there was not much to go around. Everyone was hot, thirsty, and hungry, except Torino, who happily munched juicy ferns. As people started to fall asleep, Nick suggested taking turns watching. Nick volunteered to take the first watch.

  Nick watched the shadows for a while, but soon turned his gaze to the sky, seeing more stars than he ever had in his own time period. The pollution-free Cretaceous heavens were stunningly beautiful, but disquieting at the same time. Nick could not recognize a single constellation. Nick knew stars moved. Edmond Halley had discovered this when comparing his astronomical observations to Greek star charts and finding that Sirius, Arcturus, and Aldebaran had shifted position, although just slightly. Looking at the Cretaceous sky, Nick could not pick out a familiar star, fragment of a constellation, or what the ancients called the “wandering stars,” which were planets.