“I’ll pay,” Hollis said. “Is that what you want? Money? How much?”
“It has nothing to do with money!” Dan felt the heat build on his chest and rise to his face. “You haven’t trained to shoot a T. rex. Now, drop it!”
“I trained Hollis,” Bo said, severing the building tension. He gazed with narrow eyes down at Dan. “The man has enough skills to make the kill.”
“What?” Dan said so loud he feared he might draw unwanted attention.
“Dad. I’m saying I’ve trained with Hollis long enough to believe he’s capable of making this kill. If you’d spend more time with customers during training, like you used to do, then you’d have a better perspective of what people can and cannot do.
“I’ve been on every single hunt you have since we started Prehistoric Safari. You’ve seen me in action—trusted me at critical times, and I’ve never failed you on a hunt. If I say Hollis is ready to shoot the T. rex, my word should be enough. I’m a grown-ass man now. It’s time you treated me like a man and not your boy who’s still wet behind the ears.”
“But—” Dan started.
“Dan, you just told us to trust the professionals,” Warren said. “I see no reason to deny Hollis’ wish.”
“Hollis’ total motivation is to one-up Whitney. He wants to make a bigger kill to prove he’s better than her,” Dan said.
“What difference does it make why I want to make the kill?” Hollis asked. “The question is, am I skilled enough or not? Bo says I am. That’s one vote.”
“And my vote cancels Bo’s vote,” Dan said.
“As professionals, you should have the confidence in your own abilities to allow Hollis first shot. You and Bo can step in if he misses. You asked us to trust you. We do. I say Hollis deserves a chance to make this kill,” Warren said and turned to his wife. “Janice?”
“I see no issues to be concerned with. You and I have killed charging rhinos and elephants. If the professionals can’t protect us, I know that we can—even though we’re both down to a single bullet,” Janice said.
“Whitney?” Warren asked.
“If the little man needs to prove himself, who am I to get in his way?”
“Hey! Who are you calling little man?” Hollis hotly contested.
“Calm yourself, Hollis,” Warren said. “Dan, the votes have been taken. As paying members of this hunt, and a mishap you personally are responsible for that forces us into the predicament we find ourselves in, in the spirit of reconciliation, it would behoove you to grant Hollis his wish.”
Fuming, Dan breathed heavily through his nose, huffing like a tiger. As he stared back at the five faces in opposition to his better judgment, the fact that they were even there now was his fault; he saw no other recourse other than to back down. “Okay…okay, you win.” He looked at Bo. “You’ll be in charge.”
“No problem,” Bo said. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll handle it.” He gazed over at Hollis, and said, “Come on over and let’s set up on the tree. I’ll tell you how the kill will go down.”
Dan leaned back against the tree; his arms crossed over his chest.
From a clump of trees several yards away, a pterosaur cawed, eerily sounding like the crow outside the hospital window moments before Dan’s father died.
*
Dan looked at his watch and then at Hollis. He wanted to wipe the smug grin off the man’s face with a wire brush.
Feeling like the odd man out, and like the deckhand who warned of an iceberg to no one who would believe, human nature had him somewhat wishing that something would go wrong: just so he could say I told you so. But, that was a stupid thought. Dan knew that. People’s lives were at risk, and he had to find a way to put his pride aside.
“Get ready,” Bo said in an even tone. “The rex will come into view any second now.”
Both the Wellingtons had their rifles propped on the tree within reach and their binoculars up.
Whitney watched next to Janice, with her gun by Dan, who still had his back turned to the target.
“There it is,” Bo said. “You see it?”
“Yeah,” Hollis said, immediately stiffening his arms and shoulders.
“Relax…remember about controlling your breathing,” Bo said.
Turning around to watch the action, Dan kept his arms tight across his chest.
The magnificent beast carried itself like a God before inferiors. Thighs as thick as bison carried it past trees equal to its height. Gray hide with faded black stripes covered its body. A boulder-size head harbored railroad spike-like teeth on jaws strong enough to crush bone as easy as potato chips. Taloned feet mashed soft earth while short arms bounced in front of a chest the size of a navy corvette’s hull.
“It’s turning its head now,” Bo said. “Nose in the air…its got good eyesight, and when it sees us, it will perceive us as a threat and attack.”
Hollis swallowed an audible gulp of air. Sweat trickled from his forehead down his cheek.
His mechanics are all wrong, Dan thought. He’s tighter than a tenor’s trousers.
The T. rex hissed a thunderous warning.
“Get ready,” Bo said. “I’ll tell you when to fire.”
Right on queue, the T. rex leaned its head forward and cut toward them.
“Don’t jerk the trigger…squeeze the trigger,” Bo said. “Get ready…”
The dinosaur roared again, each foot balancing 20,000 pounds and pounding the earth.
“It’s moving as fast as a freight train,” Warren said in a low voice.
“Now!” Bo cried out.
The .50 caliber gun’s barrel slightly slid to the left as Hollis jerked the trigger, missing the charging dinosaur.
Automatically, Dan picked up his rifle. Hollis needed to fire again and be quick about it! “Come on, shoot!” he said to himself.
Hollis’ gun boomed again without the huge chunk of lead finding its target.
“Take your time and aim!” Bo commanded.
Things were happening too fast. Dan wasn’t in his normal firing position, and when he brought his gun up, he couldn’t get a bead on the sideways moving target. He was used to firing from straight in front of the dinosaur!
The gap between man and beast, with only the tree between them that the rex could easily lean over to catch them in its jaws, quickly closed.
Hollis stood and brought the rifle to his shoulder. He squeezed off round after round. The recoil jutted his shoulder back a little further each time, and his aim wilder, until the rifle slipped out of his grip and fell to the ground.
Hollis turned and ran. A fearful moan that iced Dan to his core escaped from the man’s lips. Hollis kicked up dirt for several yards until his footsteps became unsure, and he stumbled face-first to the ground.
BOOM!
The crack from Bo’s Holland & Holland Royal double rifle sounded like the deep base of a cannon’s bellow.
Immediately following, the cry of a dying Tyrannosaurus rex echoed about; the .600 Nitro Express round finding its heart.
Unstable, the behemoth’s legs chugged in slowing motion until its jaw met the ground. It slid on its belly, sending dust eddies to either side until it came to a grinding halt.
With the tension volume falling after reaching a crescendo, triumphantly, Bo said, “One dinosaur—one bullet.”
Whitney had taken to her knees during the turmoil behind the tree. She had her hands over her head but now dropped them to her side before standing. When her gaze met the T. rex, not even fifteen feet away, she gasped.
“The scariest animal I’d seen before today was a five-hundred-pound grizzly bear. The beast stood nearly ten feet tall. But this…” Warren hesitated, “Tyrannosaur makes that grizzly look like a child’s stuffed animal.”
Ostrich egg sized eyes gazed into the forever-horizon of death. Blood pooled underneath its chest from the wound. A rush of air huffed from its gut, sending a fowler stench than what emanated from it prehistoric flesh.
Dan
then looked over at Bo, who seemed to stand a few feet taller. His son looked like a stranger—like someone he had never known—; and, didn’t want to know either. Bo’s gaze told him any authority that Dan had over Bo in the past had vanished. Emptiness grew from inside, consuming the anger once there.
He’d lost his only son.
Getting old brought a lot of heartaches. This was one Dan didn’t expect.
Locking gazes, Dan said, “Nice shooting, son.”
The short nod was probably the most respectable response Bo had in him.
“Hollis?” Janice had looked away from the T. rex behind them.
The man laid right where he had fallen.
“You can get up, Hollis,” Whitney said. “The dinosaur is dead.”
“He’s not moving,” Warren said.
All attention turned away from the T. rex as the five time travelers rushed to their companion’s side.
“Hollis? Get up, lad,” Warren said. “Are you injured?”
Bo was the first to arrive. He took a knee and placed a finger on Hollis’ neck. His eyes went wide. “He doesn’t have a pulse! Everybody move back. Give me some room.”
Turning Hollis over, Bo quickly administered CPR starting with chest compressions.
Dan ditched his rifle and gave him mouth-to-mouth.
For what felt like an eternity, but not ten minutes going by, Bo rocked back on his heels, and said, “It’s no use. He’s gone.”
“Oh, Hollis,” Janice said, her voice breaking.
Warren looked dumbfounded; his jaw hung open exposing bottom teeth.
“He can’t be dead,” Whitney said. “All he did was trip and fall.”
Catching his breath, Dan said, “More than likely his heart.”
“But he’s only forty-eight years old,” Whitney said.
“He had a heart murmur. He was on medication,” Bo said.
“Medication? You knew this, and you let him come on this trip?” Dan said, incredulously.
“He passed medical certification. I thought he was fine. Being on medication isn’t a deal breaker,” Bo said.
“Maybe not, but he signed up to shoot a Triceratops and not a Tyrannosaur,” Dan said. “You should have considered that before pushing me to allow him to make the kill.
“The man has been toting that twenty-four-pound weight all afternoon. That’s your fault for allowing him to take such a heavy weapon.”
“It’s what he wanted. He’s the customer,” Bo said.
“Yes, and he’s dead. Great job!” Dan said.
“He wouldn’t be dead if you had set the date on the time platform right!”
“And he wouldn’t be dead if you and I had made the kill!”
“The both of you, stop,” Warren said, his lips tightened. “I have lost a dear friend, and the squabbling between the two of you is only making the matter worse.”
Dead silence fell over the group, with Dan and Bo gritting teeth to hold their mouths shut.
A couple of minutes passed, Whitney said, “I can’t believe Hollis is gone.” Her eyes glazed over. “It doesn’t seem real…nothing about today seems real.”
“I’m afraid it’s all too real,” Janice said.
“What do we do now?” Warren asked.
After a deep breath, Dan stroked his mustache, and said, “We have to leave him here.”
“Why? Can’t we take the body back to the camp?” Warren asked.
“No, the dead body would attract predators.”
“We have body bags on the time platform,” Bo said.
“So that’s what’s in the box,” Whitney said.
“The body bags are meant for those accidentally killed on the hunt who would return to the future timeline an hour or two later. Because of the error, we won’t leave here for another twenty hours. Even a body bag won’t conceal the stench of death from scavengers. We can’t bring him to the camp. We’ll have to leave his body here.”
“Why don’t we put him in a body bag here and come back for him tomorrow? We can cover the bag with dirt,” Whitney said. “There’s a chance dinosaurs won’t find his body. If they don’t, we can bring him back with us.”
Shaking his head, Dan said, “I’m sorry, but we can’t do that. This area will be teaming with scavengers in no time. We must leave now.”
“As much as it pains me, I realize that we have no other choice…not even time for a proper burial,” Warren said.
“No, I’m afraid not,” Dan said. “Pay your last respects, please, and then we’ll leave.”
Warren stooped and patted Hollis’ hand. “I’m sorry, ol’ boy. We’ve had some special times together.” He cleared his throat but couldn’t continue.
Janice sidled next to Warren. “We’ll miss you, Hollis. You were part of our family.”
Kneeling by the dead man’s side, Whitney said, “I didn’t want things to end like this.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. “We had our differences, but I respected the hell out of you. I’m sorry I wasn’t nicer.” She broke down in tears.
After a very long pause, Dan said, “Folks, I’m sorry, but it is time to leave.”
Warren and Janice stood, eyes red and swollen.
After Whitney got to her feet, she froze before taking a step, and said, “Oh, no…I think I’ve started my period.”
*
Dan had the weight of the entire earth on his shoulders. They had missed the normal departing time, and now a man was dead. Three influential people’s lives were at risk, and a wall had been built between him and his son. His gut told him this would be the last time-safari trip Bo would go with him. He would swap out Wilburn or Dunham and put Bo on the four o’clock hunt.
But maybe Dan was getting ahead of himself. This might be Dan’s last trip back in time. There would be an investigation. He would be found responsible unless he proved sabotage of the time settings. Hollis’ death might even stick on him despite the medical clearance and travel guidelines permitting the man to hunt.
Something else gnawed a pit in his stomach. After returning to camp, he discovered the extra ammo in the supply box wouldn’t fit any of the guns chosen for the trip. A severe oversight on his and every other guide on staff.
Originally, the Ace corporation influenced Congress through lobbying, to mandate the A-Square Hannibal model rifle chambered in the .577 Tyrannosaur round, as the only rifle allowed on time hunts. Because the powerful bullet was more than most average men could handle, customers dwindled to a critical business profitability point. It took over two years to convince Congress that many other bullet calibers were more than adequate to kill dinosaurs.
Dan had four rounds—full magazine capacity of his Winchester 70 rifle. Whitney had five .270 rounds. Warren and Janice had one round each. Hollis’ XM500 had four left in the magazine.
Bo had used one of the two .600 Nitro Express rounds to kill the T. rex. He’d stopped packing extra bullets because of their excess weight; because there had been no need for them in past hunts.
Complacency had lulled them all into a dangerous situation.
Dwelling on the worst case scenario only clouded his mind from the present concerns. Dan needed his senses sharp and be ready to act. It was time to be positive. He was Dan Webber, and he would make sure to get everyone home alive and unharmed.
The sun had long gone down. The five had made camp amongst the irregular circle of trees near the valley. A small fire blazed in the primitive pit; casting cascading patterns of light of yellow-orange on people’s faces as they sat around.
“Did everyone get enough to eat?” Dan asked, breaking the silence of the last thirty minutes. Once everyone started eating, what little conversation that had transpired before came to an abrupt halt.
“More than enough,” Whitney said. “I couldn’t finish half of mine.”
“You didn’t like it?” Dan asked. “We have other varieties of MREs.”
“The beef teriyaki wasn’t a terrible choice,” Warren said.
/> “The chicken itself was edible, but there’s a certain flavor…a greasy thickness and salt that I think all long-lived packaged food would have, I didn’t care for,” Whitney said. “Plus, the calories for a chicken dish were insane. I feel like I’ve gained five pounds.”
“MRE…meals ready to eat. Otherwise known as meals rejected by everyone, meals rarely edible, and meals refusing to exit,” Bo said as he stood and placed his trash in a plastic bag. He stepped his way over to Warren and waited to accept his refuse.
“Meals refusing to exit?” Janice repeated.
“MREs were developed to feed armies. They’re high in calories but low in dietary fiber. A couple of servings before we get home shouldn’t bother you much,” Dan said.
“Hey, have any of you seen that new movie: Constipated?” Bo asked. He paused for two moments, and said, “It hasn’t come out yet.”
Whitney giggled. “That awful!”
Dan restrained himself from chastising his son for acting so unprofessionally, as he had done earlier. The joke was innocent, and despite its juvenile humor, able to lighten the mood. For the first time, Dan saw himself through different eyes. Everything didn’t always have to go his way. He didn’t have to be such a harsh taskmaster.
This whole trip had been a lesson of humbleness for him. But at what price?
With the open garbage bag in hand, Bo came by Dan’s side, and said, “I’m going to make tea. Do you want some?”
The casual-friendly tone of his son’s voice lifted Dan’s spirits. “Why, yes. Yes, thank you. A little tea before bedtime would be wonderful.” He placed his trash in the bag.
Bo turned to the others. “Would anyone else like some tea?”
“Do you have any laxative to go with it?” Whitney asked and giggled.
“Afraid not,” Bo said and grinned.
“No thanks, then.”
“Tea would be lovely,” Janice said.
“A spot for me, ol’ boy,” Warren said.
Bo went over to the two storage boxes and set up a flameless ration heater to boil a quart of water.
“Something’s been bothering me,” Whitney said. “You said other groups had spent the night here without any incidents. But you also said that there was a small chance that this trip could be unique from others.”
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