Island Rampage: A Dinosaur Thriller

by Alex Laybourne

  “Hey, hey, easy there.” Nick placed his hands on her shoulders and gently laid her back in the bed. “It’s all been taken care of.”

  “Already,” Nattie asked, shocked and a little confused.

  “Yes, we sent a group out after them.” Nick paused.

  “What is it?” Nattie asked, sitting up in bed once more, a cold ball forming in her gut.

  “We um … we lost some guys.” Nick lowered his eyes to the floor.

  “Who?” Nattie asked. She did not know many of the security team, but Nick did, and it was important for her to be there for him.

  “Hunter, Flewitt, and Lopez.” Nick raised his gaze. His eyes were red from holding back the tears. “Flewitt was a good guy.”

  “I’m sorry. What … was it the Strain Twelve subjects?” Nattie cringed at the sound of the question. She asked for purely selfish reasons, and that hurt her also.

  “What? Oh, no, no, it was something else. Abbott survived, he is in charge now. Although, nobody has seen him in a couple of days. He has been locked away—”

  “Days?” Nattie interrupted.

  “Yes,” Nick answered, his face showing his confusion. “Oh crap, you just woke up. Sorry, it was three days ago. You have been out ever since they brought you up here.”

  “No wonder I feel so stiff.” Nattie moved to sit up again, waiting for Nick to stop her.

  He did not.

  “It could also be the injuries.” As cute and as funny as he was, Nattie could not help but laugh at how dense he could be from time to time.

  “It’s a good thing you are pretty,” she said with a laugh. “Help me get out of bed. I need to check in at the lab.”

  Nick stood and moved to the bed. He did not stop Nattie, but also make no direct attempt to help her.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea,” he began.

  “I need to get to the lab. I’ve rested enough. It’s just my arm that got hurt, and I don’t need that to walk and talk.” Nattie stared at Nick, her eyes set, her jaw clenched.

  “Dr. Hendricks said you should stay on bed rest. They have you on antibiotics, because of the bite wounds,” Nick began, but before he could finish, Nattie grabbed him and pulled herself to her feet. “I need a shirt.”

  Nick convinced Nattie to wait for him to get her some clean clothes. On his way out, he spoke to Dr. Hendricks, who did not seem surprised or against Nattie getting up and about.

  Moving gingerly, her body still disagreeing with her decision to get out of bed, Nattie moved through the main building in the direction of her lab. Nick had stayed with her for a while, but had to leave for his shift to start. He promised to check in on her later. Nattie knew that meant he would be along to make sure she was taking it easy and not overdoing it.

  The lab was in full swing. Nattie stood in the cleaning room watching through the window. Lathering layer after layer on her hands, she smiled. Rob moved through the stations, watching and checking, answering questions offering advice where needed. She knew he had what it took to step up when needed. He just needed to be pushed into the deep-end of the pool.

  Rinsing her hands, and sliding her arms into her lab coat, Nattie entered the lab. Her shoulder hurt, the act of getting dressed and now donning her lab attire pained her more than she would care to admit.

  The doors opened and everything stopped. Faces turned to look in her direction and all sounds ceased to exist. She felt like a stranger walking in a Wild West saloon.

  A wave of relief swept through the room, moving like a wave, travelling from person to person until it reach Rob, who stood with tears in his eyes

  Nattie walked into the room and Rob swept her into a hug. “We were worried about you,” he said.

  The embrace made Nattie’s should sing in agony, but she bit her lip as best she could.

  “So, what’s been going on here?” she asked.

  “Let’s grab a coffee and I will fill you in,” Rob suggested.

  “That is the best idea I have ever heard.” Nattie smiled and followed Rob through to her office.

  Chapter 13

  “Hugo, this is Abbott, do you read?” Abbott sat in the main security office on the upper level of the core compound.

  He took long, deep drags on his cigarette while waiting for an answer. It was eleven thirty at night, and outside a storm was raging unlike anything he had ever seen.

  The rain fell in sheets, pouring so heavy it looked like a bucket being emptied just above the window.

  “Abbott, I read you. This storm is a bitch, and the weather stations say it is only just getting started,” Hugo Estevez answered.

  “Just wanted to check in. This thing is really raging down here. I’m pulling the guys from the towers for the night. This storm is only getting worse and it is not worth it.” Abbott crushed the cigarette and immediately lit another.

  “Already one step ahead of you. We are doubling down here. Going to ride this baby out with a smile and some scotch we scored from the last supply chopper,” Hugo answered.

  “Alright, hang tight, brother,” Abbott said, leaning back in his chair to watch the storm through the window.

  Storms fascinated Christopher Abbott. Ever since he was a child, he would watch them roll in, counting the time between the lightning and thunder. He had seen his fair share of tornadoes and summer storms over the years, but even he could not ignore the way his skin seemed to tingle as the storm drew closer.

  Darkness had settled over the island a lot earlier than normal. The clouds started gathering in the mid-morning, holding their distance while their forces grew.

  The wind came first. It was a cold, biting wind that blew away the heat of the island, replacing it with a wintry surge that drove everybody that did not need to be there indoors.

  From inside the lab, Nattie and her team worked with the gentle tunes of the lab’s music system, providing them a gentle soundtrack that helped them all through their day. Their lab had no windows, no direct view of the outside world, rendering them oblivious to the raging weather and rough seas.

  As the afternoon wore on, the rain began. They were fat drops at first, which pelted the ground like artillery fire. This soon increased to a downpour. Abbott was sure the technical term would be monsoon for how much rain fell. By mid-afternoon, even that word was redundant. He had never seen rain like it in all his years.

  The storm itself set in early evening, Mother Nature moving all of her pieces into place, throwing an assault at them which exceeded their darkest nightmares.

  The windows in the security office rattled and shook in their frames. Three of the spotlights that surrounded the perimeter blew in a billowing fountain of sparks and flame. A direct strike from the storm saw to it that the northern corner of the compound was cast into darkness.

  One by one, Abbott recalled his men, bringing them inside to safety. They were not taken off watch. In fact, he doubled the watch for the night, just in case.

  After twelve hours of battering, the storm only appeared to be growing stronger. Something in it worried Abbott; the kind of worry that starts deep in the gut, planting its roots and finding a sturdy home there before spreading. Try as he might, Abbott could not shake a feeling of urgency and growing finality that surrounded every whip of lightning, and each rumbling wave of thunder.

  The lashing rain reduced the effectiveness of the remaining lights to next to nothing. Their high-powered beams were barely able the combat the elements and reach the ground.

  There was something else in it too. Abbott was sure of that. He began scanning the darkness, making sense and shapes out of the black. His eyes picked spots that seemed blacker, somehow. Malignant shadows, with evil intentions.

  Not a man to spook easily, Abbott shuddered as he lit another cigarette. The ashtray was full, overflowing even, and so he had taken to using the leftover coffee cup.

  Lightning struck the nearest tower. The windows lit up amid the shower of sparks like disgruntled neighbours in a street of caterwaul
ing drunks. The flare chased away the demons of Abbott’s mind, forcing the darkness back a step.

  The rate at which the thunder rumbled became almost constant, with only the smallest break coming between. It was a small chance to breathe, before the next suffocating wave of storm run though. On the edges of the islands, the sea was a furious body of water that lambasted the coastline with a violent assault that saw two different docks torn apart with ease. The chunks of wood torn free by the waves were either plucked and dragged out to sea or picked up by a spinning gust of stormy air, and flung back into the mainland.

  Abbott moved down from the upper levels, moving to the ground floor. The impact of the storm on the building was less there. Had he not have been sitting upstairs for so long, lost to the battering of the storm, he would not have understood the severity of it at all. The rumbles echoed through the corridors, and the flashes lit up the darker corners of the building like a strobe light. Abbott felt his apprehension lessen by the minute.

  ***

  The glass shattered, shards flew in all directions. The scream that followed rang out in the sealed lab, and made everybody turn and look.

  “What happened?” Nattie called, scrambling from her office, her eyes wide.

  “Nothing, Caroline dropped a vial. Non-toxic. No need for panic, people,” Rob Reddan said, bending down to help clean up the pieces of glass.

  “You don’t need to help me,” Caroline whispered.

  Quiet, shy, and petite, Caroline had held Rob’s eyes since the first day of operations. It was the kind of admiration that everybody else could see apart from the two people starring in the show.

  “I don’t mind,” Rob answered, smiling.

  Caroline blushed, her cheeks growing redder and redder until she needed to look away. Her long, dark brown hair fell over her face, covering her flushed cheeks.

  “Thank you. Ouch,” Caroline gasped, clutching at her thumb.

  “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Rob asked, concerned.

  “Nothing, I just cut my thumb on a piece of glass,” Caroline said, trying to play down the injury.

  The blood that dripped from her hand and onto the floor gave away the true extent of the wound, however. The deep red fluid stood out on the white, tiled floor of the lab.

  “You need to get that seen to. Come on, let’s clean it up and get you to the medical bay.” Rob stood up and took charge. The change in his personality since Nattie’s injury continued to manifest in all the right ways.

  With Caroline’s hand cleaned and bandaged, Rob took her out of the lab and to the medics, white Nattie cleaned up the rest of the glass.

  “Did you know it was storming?” Caroline asked as the pair made their way down the corridor.

  “I had no idea. I knew it could storm here, but this seems like a good one,” Rob answered.

  A gust of wind rattled the windows and the lighting flickered. Caroline gave a small scream and pressed herself tighter to Rob.

  “I hate thunderstorms,” she said, looking up at Rob.

  “Well, we are safe in here. This building a fortress.” Rob smiled.

  The words fell from his mouth just as a window behind them blew inwards. The glass shattered, spinning out in all directions, thrown on a wild wind that charged through the gaping hole in the building’s flank. The rush of air created a piercing howl that chased the pair down the corridor like a pack of wolves. Rain poured through, splattering on the linoleum flooring. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked in simultaneous symphony. The sound was like a jet taking off mere feet from where they stood. It was deafening and powerful to the point of being a physical presence that both grabbed and shook them.

  Caroline screamed, and in that moment, it felt as if they were lost. They were stranded in some crazy and violent land. The storm was their oppressor, chasing them down, intent on dealing out a punishment befitting their intrusion. The secure compound and the armed guards were thrown away. The knowledge that the rest of the team were working away oblivious to the storm, as they too had been until a few moments prior, ceased to exist in their consciousness.

  Rob felt fear, absorbing it from Caroline, while at the same time it grew within him of its own accord.

  The sudden change in the environment, the unexpected weather and the shattering window; too much, too fast. It seemed unnatural and out of place. In those few moments, his rational brain abandoned him, and he gave in to the child-like feeling of terror and helplessness.

  It was only when a small break came in the storm, and the initial shock of the noise outside began to subside that things returned to a more acceptable level of normalcy.

  “Let’s keep moving. Nothing to do here. It’s up to the Black Arrow guys to tidy up the mess,” Rob said, his voice raised in order not to be drowned out by the howling din created beyond the walls.

  Two corridors later, and the sounds of the storms receded back to the distant howl, the safe and secure howl that can only come from the danger being tucked away.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” Caroline said as they sat waiting for Dr. Hendricks to come back from his lunch.

  “My pleasure. I mean, this place is safe and secure, but I don’t like the idea of you walking around on your own.” Rob’s face started to deepen in shade as he spoke.

  “I don’t think the creatures beyond the walls would get to us,” Caroline said, smiling.

  “It’s not them I am worried about. It’s those Black Arrow guys. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with some of them walking around,” Rob stuttered as he spoke, but his newfound confidence held his voice. “I like you, Caroline.”

  “Oh … I, I like you too.” Both blushed but held each other’s gaze.

  It was then that the power went out.

  Chapter 14

  Abbott finished making himself a fresh cup of coffee. The thick brown liquid smelled amazing as it was extracted from the tiny pods. Even the machine itself was a thing of beauty. Abbott had never seen eye-to-eye with his former boss, except, he recently learned, when it came to coffee.

  The rich, brown drink was, in Abbott’s own mind, a gift from the heavens. If anybody asked for divine proof, his answer would always be coffee. This was partly because he enjoyed the drink so much, and regarded it so highly, and partly because he held a strong dislike for organized religion, and any chance to rile some feathers with a snarky answer made him smile.

  Sitting back down behind the desk, he sighed. Just as he took his cup from the machine, the storm knocked out the main power. There were back-up generators which would kick in, but they needed to be manually redirected from the third island so as not to waste energy on non-essential areas.

  Abbott liked the silence, the sense of detachment. Ever since the deaths of Hunter and the others, Black Arrow had been sticklers for updates and work logs. Now, he was free of that for the moment. He had no chain of command to follow; the world was his.

  Abbott took a sip of the coffee, the smooth taste of the double-strength espresso made his taste buds explode.

  The emergency lights went out, plunging him into a sudden and total darkness. The rage of the storm outside increased to full pitch as every other background noise fell away.

  Abbott made to rise from the chair, but in the darkness misplaced his coffee cup. The scolding hot liquid covered his leg, and while he cursed the darkness, he also thanked the coffee deity that he had not chosen a larger drink.

  Flashlight in hand, he left the central office and headed out into the halls.

  The storm buffeted the building, and somewhere, he heard people screaming.

  A few moments later, a thunderous crash echoed through the building. The sound of the storm increased even more, and in the darkness, the building came alive.

  Shouts and screamed echoed around him, bouncing off the walls in every direction. Pandemonium ensued with a dizzying impact. Abbott stood stunned, surrounded by noise, unsure which way to turn. The urgent cries and shrieks were coming from his own
men.

  The rattle of gunfire thawed him, forcing a surging wave of adrenaline through his body. Running, Abbott moved towards the main reception area.

  In his head, he ran through the protocol, the only problem being, in all of the drills and training, Abbott had been a participant rather than the commanding officer.

  More gunfire erupted; a short burst that ended in a sudden silence, like the calm before the worst of the storm. Christopher Abbott felt his blood freeze.

  The silence only lasted a moment, not even a period of time that could be measured without use of some item of equipment, yet in it, he heard something. As the knowledge formed in his brain, the unthinkable had happened.

  There was no time for him to finish the thought. He rounded the corner, moving at a run when his feet slid out from under him. His feed slapped at the floor as they tried to find purchase, but it was too late. He landed hard, his legs straight out before him. The impact was hard and jarring. Something popped in his back, but Abbott ignored it.

  The floor was wet, and by the glow of his flashlight, Abbott could make out the viscous black-looking substance that caused the problem.

  That’s blood.

  The notion dawned on him just as the smell hit, the sweet, metallic odour of slaughter.

  Jumping to his feet, Abbott grabbed his torch and went for his gun. He only had his pistol with him, but anything was better than nothing.

  Raising both light and weapon, he moved forward, slower now. Sweeping the light from floor to ceiling, his eyes scanning everything from far to near, he walked on.

  The head that stared up at him was unrecognizable. The skin had been torn away and the bone was crushed like an empty can. Abbott caught the gag in his throat, but could not stop the tremor in his hands.

  Images of what had happened before, of the creatures that lay beyond the compound walls played over and over in his head; a constant loop of the nightmare he had survived.

  He had seen enough horror movies to know the survivors very rarely made it through the sequel.