Dan harbored a secret thought that one day he would lead one last mission, sparing the dinosaurs’ lives, and he would win a petition for this particular place in time to be forever off limits.
“Nice shot,” Bo said and patted Whitney on the shoulder. “One dinosaur—one bullet.”
“Yes! I did it!” Whitney said and squealed.
“Fine shooting, Whitney,” Warren said. “Quite a demonstration of grace under pressure.”
“Good shot, honey,” Janice said. “Perhaps you would consider coming on another hunt with us in the future.”
“It depends,” Whitney said as she reset the safety on her rifle. “I might have a new position at work, and I might not have the time for it. Being the president of a major financial institution carries a lot of responsibilities.” She smiled and winked.
“I’d schedule the trip now if I were you,” Hollis said; a smirk froze on his left cheek.
“Let’s get the images while we can. Our time is running out. We need to be back behind the tree and ready to shoot when the Triceratops comes by,” Dan said, determined to stop any work-related bickering before it began.
The shortest distance to the Troodon was around the trunk side of the tree.
Bo led the way with the camera in hand, and the rest followed with Dan bringing up the rear.
When they arrived, the hunters gathered around the kill for an up close and personal inspection.
“This thing doesn’t even look real,” Hollis said, reaching out and running a finger across the Troodon’s spine.
“Look at the claws on its feet.” Warren had his knife out and used the blade to lift a talon for better examination.
“Stay away from its mouth. There’re enough bacteria in its saliva to sicken you until death,” Dan said.
“Dreadful looking beast,” Janice said. “That reptilian smile makes it look like a spawn of the devil.”
Whitney gave the creature a thorough inspection and took a knee next to the dead theropod at Bo’s direction.
The others scattered as Bo captured image after image on his camera.
“Best make our way back,” Dan said, giving the Troodon a pitied gaze as he left it for the next scavenger to feast upon.
As the group tromped back to the tree, Warren said, “I can’t stop thinking about the stories I read in the past. We’ve just killed a creature that didn’t die in the original timeline. I feel a sort of impending doom.”
“Posh. You harbor superstitions created by imaginative writers in a time of innocent ignorance,” Dan said. “The Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event wiped out the Troodons. The species didn’t evolve into anything existing in the modern world. In fact, over ninety-nine percent of all species, over five billion species, mind you, that have ever lived on Earth are extinct.”
“I’ve hunted big game for years. Odd that I’ve never considered how I’ve altered the future before. Especially since financial investments are all about predicting the future,” Warren said.
“That’s because hunting is about enjoying the present,” Janice said. “Hunting is about seeking an immediate reward and the satisfaction it brings.”
“You are right, Janice. I’ve never thought of it that way,” Warren said.
Rounding the tree trunk, the group turned toward Dan to await further instructions.
As Bo repositioned the stationary cameras, Dan said, “The Triceratops will be here in less than fifteen minutes. We’ll wait for it to get within twenty yards or so, and then Hollis, Warren, and Janice will have their turn in the hunt.
“If anyone needs to go to the bathroom or enjoy a little refreshment. Now is the time. Things will move quickly after the kill. We must be on the time platform by two-pm.”
Warren and Janice excused themselves and headed for some privacy.
Whitney had a protein bar and drank from her canteen—ignoring everyone else.
“Ever thought about hiding something here in the past and look for it when you get back?” Hollis asked Dan.
“Can’t say I have. The geological upheavals over the eons would make it virtually impossible to find the specific location where you placed it.”
“I guess you’re right,” Hollis said. “How about your future?” Hollis asked.
“Come again?”
“Your financial future. Retirement for a man your age can’t be far away.”
“My house is in order, thank you.”
“Maybe so. But what about taxes? Unless you have a good portion of your money protected from those government vultures, you may not be a well off as you think.”
“Hollis, are you mixing business with pleasure, again?”
Taken slightly aback, Hollis said, “Hey, it’s who I am,” and shrugged.
“Not the time. Not the place, thank you.” Dan left without caring to hear anything further from the king of hot air.
Stepping over next to Whitney, Dan said, “Feel like you got your money’s worth.” He chuckled.
“I’ll say, especially since the Wellingtons paid for the trip.”
“Must be nice.”
“I’m not complaining,” Whitney said and drank from her canteen. “My dad believed you always ate whatever you killed. I wonder how he’d react to a bowl of Troodon stew.” She couldn’t control her laughter.
“Uh, doesn’t sound too appetizing, does it?”
“No,” Whitney said. “Funny, reminds me of a story from my childhood. When I was young, around five, my favorite dish my Grandmother would make was possum and sweet potatoes.”
“You’re joking, right?”
An embarrassed laugh escaped Whitney’s lips. “No. You see, I had no idea of what a possum looked like. The night before my Dad made a hunt, I told him to ‘get me a possum.’ He did. It was a Saturday, and I was up when he came back. My Dad had a big smile on his face, so proud of himself for making his little girl happy. When I looked in the sack, I nearly jumped out of my skin!” She laughed more. “There was this nasty rat-looking animal with sharp teeth staring right back at me.”
“Possums are cute, in an ugly sort of way,” Dan said and chuckled.
“Needless to say, my days of eating possum were over.”
“You must have grown up a country girl.”
“Thibodaux, Louisiana. I miss the people, but I don’t miss the location. I’ve come to appreciate the concrete, glass, and steel of the city.”
Bo had wandered over by Hollis. The two spoke too low for Dan to hear. Hollis kept darting his eyes over to him and Whitney. By watching Bo’s demeanor, Dan got the distinct impression he was the focus of the discussion.
Or, maybe he was just paranoid.
Throughout life, Dan noticed when people got older, that they became grumpier, defensive. He never thought that would happen to him. But, he admitted to having shortened patience in his older age. And, it seemed like people went out of the way to be more difficult.
*
Warren kept guard while Janice squatted behind a tree. He was amazed that she had gone as long as she had without relieving herself. Not even sixty years old, and his wife had to wear absorbent pads to barricade leaks from a weak bladder.
It disappointed Warren how quickly Janice’s body was deteriorating. First, it was a hip, which was replaced five years ago. Then, a knee, two years ago. Her sex drive took a wrong turn right after her fiftieth birthday. How much longer before she’d become a homebody, and he’d have to vacation alone?
Janice stood, carefully removed the pad from her panties, and rolled it up. “What should I do with this?” She held the pad toward him.
“Why must I decide?” After casting his gaze momentarily to the sky and huffing, he said, “You have two options: You can bring it back with you, or you can toss it on the ground.”
“It’s so disrespectful to litter.”
“Then I recommend that you put it in your backpack and take it home.”
“That’s a disgusting thought.”
“It’s
only a little bit of urine on the pad. You can place it in a waterproof bag,” Warren said. “And, don’t ask me to carry it to the backpack for you.”
She looked about, her gaze fixating on a clump of nearby brush. A quick underhanded pitch had it clearing the brush and landing out of view. “A dinosaur will probably eat that. I already regret my decision.”
“I wouldn’t let it bother you,” Warren said. “Not everyone can say they’ve planted their DNA in this primitive world. I wonder how the local environment will react to it?”
“Dan said we didn’t have anything to worry about. It’s such a minuscule amount anyway,” Janice said as she pulled out a fresh pad from her fanny pack and lined her panties. “You can take your turn now. I’ll be the lookout. Let me pull up my pants first.”
Warren didn’t need to go but didn’t want to be distracted by a swelling bladder while waiting to take a bead on the Triceratops. He turned and found a sapling for a target, proceeding to do his business.
“I’m not sure if Hollis is enjoying himself,” Janice said.
“He’s away from work. You know how hard it is for the lad to relax.”
“Which is another reason why he’s not the best choice to be president of the company. He can’t take an outside perspective and see the company’s flaws. When you’re inside the fort, you can’t see your vulnerabilities, and the enemy can discover your weaknesses and win.”
“I’d rather not discuss that matter out here on our safari. We’ll have plenty of time to come to an agreement once we get back home.”
“Whitney is what W&W needs,” Janice said. “You’ve seen her in action. How the whole room lights up when she walks in. She’s not threatening and captivates her audience in ways that borderlines sorcery. And, she’s beautiful. So, beautiful.”
Warren gave his manhood a last shake and zipped up.
Janice closed her eyes. “So beautiful…and young.” She opened her eyes, paused, and said, “You think Whitney’s beautiful, don’t you, Warren?” Her head turned to the side, and she gazed into his eyes.
Blank-faced, Warren considered the question. “Without a doubt. She would be considered beautiful by many.”
“By many? What do you mean?”
“Simply that she is a very attractive woman. She stays fit. Dresses professionally, and her makeup and hair are impeccable. She is beautiful by many standards.”
“How about your standards?”
“My standards?” He wrinkled his forehead. “Why should my standards matter?”
“Warren, are you suggesting that you don’t think she’s beautiful?” Janice asked, her brow rising.
“I…don’t spend a lot of time considering the beauty of an employee. Especially one who is a vice president. That would be inappropriate. And frankly, I have more pressing matters that require my time.”
After several lingering, uncomfortable moments, Warren said, “If we dally much longer, the Triceratops will pass us on its way to afternoon tea.”
*
“What’s up with your old man?” Hollis asked as he unwrapped a stick of gum and then shoved it in his mouth.
Bo shrugged. “Things aren’t going as smoothly as he wants. It’s all about the schedule, and he doesn’t like distractions from the hunt. Dad would rather hear himself tell stories and give facts the whole time while the hunters march in step and stay quiet and listen.”
“Dan’s tough on you,” Hollis said. “Acts as if he’d rather you be seen and not heard.”
“Yeah, he’s getting crankier every day. It’s that alpha dog syndrome. He knows it’s just a matter of time before he’ll have to turn the business over to me. Can’t say I’ve ever met his expectations. Grades never good enough. Always found fault with whatever job he gave me to do. He even complained how I folded my underwear.
“I love the man and all,” Bo said. “Heck, he’s my dad. But if he didn’t wake up one morning, well, I’d be….free.”
“What would you do then? Do you get to keep the business? There must be other investors.”
“We got our time license through one of my cousins who’s in Congress. You can imagine how hard those things are to get. There’s a lot of money involved, and my cousin profits more if control stays in the family. So yeah, the business will be mine to run.”
“How are you at keeping the books?”
“That’s an area I don’t have any experience with. I guess I’ll have to hire someone.”
“Bo, don’t start out on the wrong foot,” Hollis said, shifting the cadence in his voice. “In business, it’s not how much you make. It’s how much you get to keep. Taxes will eat up your profits like piranhas in the Amazon devouring a fat goat. I will custom create an investment program for your company that maximizes real profits. When the time comes, call me. I bet I can double your business’ annual take-home income.”
Bo rubbed a finger below his bottom lip. “That would be sweet.” He turned his head and spat a wad of vile looking Skoal juice. “You know, Hollis. I feel like I can trust you. During your training, you listened and learned—treated me with respect. I appreciate that.
“In fact…I’m going to come into some cash shortly. I’ll need help keeping that under the table. Is there a way I can make a private investment that can avoid taxes?”
With a sheepish grin, Hollis said, “You’re talking to the right man.”
“When the time is right,” Bo said. “I’ll give you that call.”
“You do that, Bo. Working with people like you is the only reason I get out of bed in the morning.”
*
The Wellingtons returned to the hunt site and joined Hollis and Bo.
Whitney opened a roll of peppermints and offered one to Dan, who gracefully declined.
Dan didn’t know why, but he felt comfortable around Whitney—like he could be himself without the fear of intrusive judgment. Maybe it was because she acted as if her soul was an open book. Whitney’s aura projected what you see is what you get; not a multi-layer complex personality wearing a mask of deception.
If Bo weren’t such a loser, the boy could have gone after a woman like that. But his son couldn’t commit to a single woman for more than six months. Grandchildren were a blessing Dan feared he wouldn’t have the opportunity to experience.
“It must get boring watching the same hunt every trip,” Whitney said.
Bo had Hollis and the Wellingtons setting up for their kill. Waving his hands and pointing, he reminded them to wait for the beast to get within range, and his queue to fire their weapons.
“I understand why you might think so. But for me, no. I’m not the least bit bored. In fact, going through the same routine suits me quite well. I don’t have to worry about impending danger every second. That allows me to relax, soak in each moment. It enables me to discover something new every time out. You’d be surprised how much you’ve looked at on this trip but didn’t see. Hunters’ minds are usually on the kill. They don’t notice what’s in front of them because they keep looking for dinosaurs in the distance.”
“Dan, you remind me of my father,” Whitney said.
Dan chuckled. “I hope that’s a compliment.”
“Yes, silly. You two are cut out of the same cloth.”
“Well, then,” Dan said. “He must be a very fine man.” The left side of Dan’s mouth curled into a smile.
It was Whitney’s turn to laugh.
“You two over there need to get ready,” Bo called out. “Showtime is a few minutes away. Remember your ear protection.”
“Get your binoculars and look straight ahead,” Dan said. He waited for Whitney to comply, and then said, “That patch of trees. The Triceratops is in front of them and heading this way.”
“I don’t—wait. I see it.”
Dan brought up his binoculars and said only loud enough for Whitney to hear, “Triceratops…from the Greek meaning three-horned face.”
“Its mouth looks like a beak,” she whispered back.
&n
bsp; “They’re herbivores and have over four hundred teeth. That boney frill protects its neck.”
Whitney dropped the binoculars for a second and then returned them to her eyes. “That thing is huge.”
“Over twenty-five feet long…about ten feet tall…and this one weighs north of ten tons.”
“It’s as big as a bus!” Whitney said, excitement in her voice. “Bullets can kill something that big? We’d be better off shooting it with a tank.”
“Wait for my signal to fire, and then you can fire at will,” Bo said to the others.
“Dinosaurs are made of flesh and blood,” Dan said. “The fifty-caliber Hollis is using can penetrate nine inches of concrete. The Wellingtons’ guns alone are enough though to bring down a full-sized Triceratops.”
Time stood still for Dan—everyone else focused on the approaching beast. He turned his head and looked about; glimpsing a huge pterosaur diving beneath a canopy of trees. Hadn’t seen that before. He made a mental note to turn sooner next time to see the whole flying reptile.
His peripheral caught movement by a tree twenty feet away. Dan watched as a small theropod, barely a foot tall, peeked at them from around the trunk. Another new sighting.
Humans were out of place in this time period. Dan believed most dinosaurs avoided the area during the hunt because of human presence. He also believed it wouldn’t take them long to overcome their initial fear and challenge the humans invading their territory.
“Fire!” Bo yelled.
The three rifles boomed in unison, with Hollis’ .50 caliber sounding like a piece of heavy artillery.
The Triceratops, some thirty yards away, stopped like it hit an invisible wall; its head dipped low toward the ground. After a moment’s hesitation, its nose lifted toward the sky, with an otherworldly cry emanating from its beak-like mouth. A wound gouged in its chest by the kinetic energy of flying lead hemorrhaged crimson.
The two Wellingtons fired again, with Hollis pulling the trigger a second later.
This time the Triceratops’ right knee buckled, and its head listed sideways. Its chest no longer an available target, the next volley of bullets struck the boney structure of its head.
One Dinosaur One Bullet Page 3