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Jurassic Park IV: Deadly Strain --Chapter1--
By Carnotaur3
Jurassic Park: Deadly Strain
Based on Characters Created by Michael Crichton
Written By Chase Kuertz
INTRODUCTION
The new millennium brought with it a catastrophic turn of events. Scientists started finding new things out. Dinosaurs became bigger than ever. With what 1997’s San Diego incident had proven, creatures from sixty-five million years ago can be appreciated in the modern world up close and personal. More thrill seekers charted the islands off Costa Rica, hoping to take a glimpse of the prehistoric beasts. Some would get lucky, others wouldn’t. And while some knew where to go, few of them, under stupidity, would visit the wrong islands in Las Cinco Muertes.
With all the fun going around, it was certain to happen that one of those days something wrong would happen. In 2001, a thirteen-year-old boy named Eric Kirby, parasailed with his mother’s boyfriend Ben Hildebrand near the coast of Isla Sorna. When an unexpected turn of events left the two stranded there, his mother and estranged husband kidnapped Dr. Alan Grant and his companion Billy Brennan. They too also got stranded until they were rescued by the U.S. Military under Mark Deglar.
The incident boosted support to have the island destroyed, just like its relative Isla Nublar. Since it was no picnic to exterminate the island back in 1994, the Costa Rican government shoved off the idea. Instead, they passed more policies for more security. This was not needed since the 2001 incident proved that dinosaurs were indeed still dangerous and the public began to back off on trying to squeeze their way to the island.
In 2002, the government hired three Coast Guards to surround the island every day for 265 days a year. This was successful, and helped scientists observe some of the dinosaurs that walked the coastline during the hot summer days. This caused quite a change in some of the dinosaur theories that paleontologist had grown so well accustomed to. Many books were published among these studies.
Some unexpected visits to the islands occurred. One of them was Dr. Alan Grant. His studies were beyond the Velociraptors now. He was mainly interested in the mating rituals of herbivores and how they brought up their offspring. Though, the closest he ever came to the dinosaurs were on the beach of the island. Very few herbivores were there to be studied leaving him with more educated guessing to be done.
He published his first non-Jurassic Park book since 1995 in August 2003. It was critically acclaimed by half a dozen famous paleontologists, including his friend Dr. Ellie Deglar, who is now a house-wife and editor of the “Dig-It-Up Weekly”.
Dinosaurs had quieted down for a while during this period, until the end of 2003, where news casts in Costa Rica were reporting sightings of small bipedal green lizards running around eating exotic birds in the jungles. The Costa Rican government became disturbed about these incidents and called for more investigations into the matter. June 12, 2004, marked the day the government released information of how much they have covered up about the sightings. The United States is tuned in for any moment of word.
SUSPICIOUS MINDS OF THE KIDNAPPED
Dr. Alan Grant lay sprawled all over the bed, covers displaced to the left side of it giving the indication he had been tossing and turning all night long. Something odd about him was present… he had worn his clothing to bed. This was not the first time he had done this. After long days work, he always never cared much about changing and just slipped into bed without thinking. The room he was sleeping in was just a regular suite at “Central America Inn”; decorated with sea shell objects spread out on the wall and tropical colored paint. It was located near Heredia, Costa Rica.
The heat in the room was so terribly uncomfortable that Grant had opened the doors to his balcony before hitting the hay. Bright stars outside and the moon glared into the room, reflecting off of Grant. The only sound that could be heard was crickets chirping softly and the midnight breeze. A new sound was introduced to the room, the ringing of the room’s phone. Grant awoke, a little frightened.
The ringing, the harsh ringing, Grant thought as he set up out of bed, perspiration dripping all over his body, causing his bed covers to be drenched. The phone was ringing so loud that Grant wanted to cup his ears and run, but he had to pick it up. Either way, he wouldn’t be hearing it anymore. He slammed his hands on top of the receiver and picked it up all in one sweep. He pressed the mouth piece up to his lips.
His voice cracked as he muttered, “Hello?”
“Dr. Alan Grant?” asked a voice in a small whisper.
“Please, speak up. What’s the meaning of calling me at…” He paused, looked over at the clock sitting right beside his bed on the nightstand. It read 3:23.
Grant continued, “…calling me at three in the morning.”
“Dr. Grant, do you hear anything on the phone?” the voice asked.
Grant hated these callers. They always pranked him. Is your dinosaur running? You better go catch it! They were ridiculous comments and questions. He simply didn’t have the time for any of them at all. In fact, they drove him to insanity after the Jurassic Park was uncovered to the public back in 1997. He got shit from everyone. All races… all sizes… came to him. Not only with pranks, no, no! They came with him with idiotic questions.
Is a Tyranasawrus Wacs a meat eater?
Don’t you just love those Brontosauruses?
Can a raptor run fast?
Grant always had a splitting head ache.
Usually he wanted to leap up on a building and yell, “Find your own damn shit out!” Well, being the nice paleo-guy he was, he always smirked and put it in ultra layman’s terms.
“What do you mean?” Grant questioned.
The voice breathed heavily, “My line is being tapped. I’ll make this brief. I have some information about a possible kidnapping.”
“Wait, whose kidnapping?” Grant asked still bewildered about this whole situation.
“Your kidnapping. Someone is going to…” His voice is cut off fast.
Grant checked the phone, then, talked into it again.
“Hello? Are you there? Ah, damn it. Damn it.”
He hanged up the phone, obviously grumpy about this whole ordeal. I hate being me, he said in his mind.
Why did Grant hate himself? Well, let’s put it this way, being rampaged by dinosaurs twice was enough to conclude that he was bad luck and had a sense of stupidity when it came to money. He could admit it. Money made him happy. Not that he was a greedy person, he just like discovering things. Research was always on his mind.
And why not? People love exploring, just finding out stuff that can mean a great deal to a community of scientists. Being recognized delighted Grant. He was too used to it now, unfortunately. Jurassic Park made it certain that the rest of his life was going to be miserably long.
Thankfully, he’s been doing great lately. Not much attraction to him, but his book was favoring well. One thing that always bugged him when he got off Isla Sorna three years ago was the question… was he really falling for those dinosaurs? Yes, he was. It took Grant a whole year and a half to figure it out, but the realization was always there. He couldn’t keep away from them, even if it meant life or death. Grant looked at it this way: his whole meaning in his life was being the best paleontologist as he could be. It was finally working.
Walking out from the hotel elevator and to the lobby, Dr. Alan Grant squinted his eyes. His blurred vision was the least of his worries. The call had really frightened him. More than he thought any call would. It wasn’t at first; it just slowly progressed on him when he kept thinking about it in his bed. The voice had sounded familiar. Maybe a friend he hadn’t talked with in a long time. All Grant knew was that he had to trace that call. He had to find out who it was. He had to find out the reason.
As Grant made his way over to the desk clerk, he tapped on the red wood countertop with his index knuckle, twice to be exact. The desk clerk, red eyed and looked to have insomnia, politely answered the call.
“Yes, sir?” the Desk Clerk asked, almost in a mumble. Grant licked his lips some, wetting it because of how dry they were when he first awoke.
“Yes, someone called me about ten minutes ago in room 124. I would like to know if you could get the number of that person who called,” said Grant, looking to his left and right, almost cautious.
The desk clerk tried to smile. “Let me check it out for you, sir.”
Grant nodded. In a flash, the desk clerk disappeared into another room behind the counter. Grant rubbed his temples, then, looked around him. The lobby was decorated with green plants and vines that spiraled up walls and railings. A small water fountain was located in the middle with a dozen comfortable silk chairs and benches. Some of those chairs reclined. Grant hadn’t noticed these features of the hotel at first because he was so tired last night to even look around. It was a hard day’s work here in Costa Rica.
But that damn phone call, he thought, why did it have to be today? Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was just a prank call. Then again, it sounded so serious. The tone of his voice so stressed. He could hear the heavy breathing.
In spite of all these concoctions running through his head, Grant turned sharply to find two men walking into the lobby doors dressed in black suits with white ties. One of the men turned to one of the clerks located right beside the doors. He chatted with him for a few minutes, pointed to a chart in his hand.
Grant’s heart began to beat faster when one of the men looked straight at him. He could see the word ‘yes’ being mouthed on his lips. Grant stood stiff. He couldn’t move. He was afraid of what was happening. What were they here for? What awful thing has happened to ruin Grant’s life once again? The question was coming towards him, with blank stares.
The two men walked slowly to him, reaching into their coats to pull out something. One of the men on the left spoke to Grant, “Dr. Alan Grant, will come with us?”
He pulled out a black pistol from his coat, the other one doing the same. Grant lunged at them, swiping one of the guns from the men and waving it at the other man. But the person he stole it from, swung his fist across Grant’s face. Grant hit the floor with a loud thud. He was dizzy and felt like fainting. A nauseous feeling swept through his stomach. The rough hit at his face didn’t hurt; his adrenaline was pumping so fast. Grant looks up to see blurred faces of the two men, both kneeling down at him. Their voices reverbed back at each other like walking through a giant cave. Darkness slowly covered his eyes.
Dr. Ian Malcolm, dressed in his usual black attire, stepped forward from the hospital elevator. His hair was all cowlicked and messy, maybe because he was awoken thirty minutes ago. Yeah, damn it, said Malcolm in his mind, I know the old man is sick. He’s been sick a thousand times over. But, Malcolm was very partial to the senile. Despite the two’s different view points, he felt like a grandfather to him. Malcolm never had grand-parents, they all died way before he was even born. Big mistake in his life, gothic dressing seemed more favorable now. Though, Malcolm could hardly call himself a depressed psychotic. He knew what they were. He lives with Kelly every damn day of his life.
He loved his daughter, but lately she had been failing school and causing him and Sarah Harding to be worried. No, Sarah isn’t his girlfriend anymore. They had broken up a little after the San Diego incident. Now, they’re just good friends. They are closer now than when they were together. Figured, Malcolm never thought it would work out anyway… running to an island of infested dinosaurs to get Malcolm there wasn’t exactly a romantic candle light for two. Though, it did flatter him a little…a very itty bitty tiny bit.
As Malcolm made his way around the corner from where he got off at the elevator, he began checking signs. There wasn’t a lot of movement going around in the halls. It seemed awfully quiet. Either that or nurses and doctors were having the time of their lives somewhere else. He found the room number that Lex Murphy, John Hammond’s grand daughter, had mentioned to him over the phone. 325.
As he began to walk to it, Lex came around the corner in front of Malcolm. Her face claimed she was overjoyed. Lex was now twenty two years old, beautiful, and full of spirit. But she was still haunted by the nightmares of Jurassic Park, all eleven years ago.
“Dr. Malcolm. Ah, thanks for coming,” she said softly.
“Uh, yeah sure, no problem, right…” He trailed off on his sentences. Malcolm leaned over to hug her. She held him tightly, began to sob.
“Is it that bad, honey?” he asked after feeling her emotions.
Lex coughed a little. “They gave him a shot of morphine almost three hours ago. It wasn’t much. The effects could’ve already worn off by now. If you would like to visit him…” Malcolm interrupts her, “No, no… I don’t want to intrude on him, I’m sure he’s very tired.”
“Malcolm, he’s been tired for a long time. A long time.”
Malcolm nodded. He knew he had to visit the old man. After all, what kind of person would he be if he didn’t?
“How’s Tim?” Malcolm asked with curiosity.
Lex sighed, “He doesn’t know about grandpa. I don’t know how to tell him. He’s in college and… well, he would die hearing this news. What do I do?”
“You need to tell him. If he were to die now, do you think it would have seemed ok that you didn’t when you tell Tim?”
“You’re right… you’ve always been right.” She wipes away a tear and points to the door, “He really wants to see you. I’d go.”
Malcolm nodded again, then, proceeded to open the hospital room door.
Guttural sounds came from John Hammond’s throat. Malcolm could hear it clearly. It wasn’t too often, but each interval that did not happen to have those sounds, harsh wheezing would resume. All past offenses to John disappeared. Malcolm felt sorry for the old bugger. He was a strong withered man, and that kind of strength gave him respect among people like Ian Malcolm.
John’s eyes opened slowly, and twinkled when they looked to him. His mouth moves.
“I never thought to see you again, Dr. Malcolm. Did someone beg you to come?” Hammond asked laughing softly under his wheezing.
“Uh, no, I came on my own accord, John.” Malcolm paused, looked at his pale face. “What do you have?”
Hammond smiled, “I don’t think that’s very important right now.” Malcolm knew Hammond didn’t want to make a fuss about it. Something else was on Hammond’s mind.
“What is important is what’s happening today.” Hammond concluded.
Malcolm shrugged, looking confused. “Uh, what’s happening today?”
Suddenly, the television set turned on. It is FOXNEWS LIVE, and something peculiar is in the news. The woman reporting is saying something about the Costa Rican Government. Malcolm couldn’t make it out at all, the sound coming from the speakers was inaudible at certain times. But he could make out the word ‘bomb’.
Malcolm realized, “They’re going to blow up the island. Has the government finally gotten smart, or what?”
“History is happening, Dr. Malcolm. Yes, they’ve decided to exterminate all species on Isla Sorna. I knew this day would come.” Hammond said with a face of contempt.
“Yeah, uh, yeah, it’s about time they did, right? We can’t just go on with them, they don’t belong here. You know it, and I sure as hell know it. Sixty-five million years ago they had their chance and nature let them go. Nature’s fighting back again. In a new light, I guess,” stated Malcolm. “And, well, there it is.”
“There it is,” Hammond said, barely making it out, memories flooding back to him. Hammond fondled with the remote, but it slipped from his fingers. Malcolm picked it up for him.
“Just hit the mute button. Ah, yes, thank you. That’ll be fine,” Hammond said as Malcolm obeyed his wishes.
“I know you are dying, but there’s something else you are hiding, John.” Hammond sighed again, looking up to the ceiling of his room. “You are very sagacious, Ian. It’s not what I am hiding; it’s what they are hiding.”
“They?” asked Malcolm now even more bewildered.
“The agents… The men in black… whatever you want to call them, they’re here. I suspect they work for someone who’s followed my work extensively; probably even as close as trying to steal my own dinosaur DNA. Humph!
“Did I even think it was possible back then… no! I didn’t. They think you and the other survivors know something about the reason why there are dinosaurs residing in Costa Rica.” Obviously, Hammond was not finished.
Malcolm chuckled and sighed at the same time. “Good God, John! The dinosaurs can’t swim that far to the mainland. Even if that were possible, large sums of them wouldn’t be heading in the same direction. Is there something else you aren’t telling me?”
Wasn’t the dinosaurs in Costa Rica a hoax anyway, Malcolm thought. He certainly seemed to remember a time where the Costa Rican found out about villagers making tiny dinosaur-like footprints in the mud around the jungles. The government found them out and locked them away for a while. Yeah, he remembered it plain as day. That was back in 1998, the year after Jurassic Park was found out. Boy, that was a crazy year for him.
Hammond laid in the bed, not answering his recently asked question.
Malcolm shrugged, “I’m don’t understand… you are saying that I’m in danger of some agents dressed in black, and I say you are out of your God given mind! John, why is it every time we meet, some kind of new, bad information suddenly pops out of your mouth? What do they think we know? Is the reason regarding the park? Are we going to be tortured or something for visiting your park, John?”
Hammond continued, “They think I’ve given you all information regarding them because I know what they have done. I want you to pack up and get out of town as quickly as you can.”
Speaking softly, “John… no. What you are experiencing is a delusional idea created under your own guilt in trying to be the entrepreneur you were back then.” Though, Malcolm was semi-convinced about his own accusation.
What had the old man been smoking now? Malcolm thought. I just can’t do this game anymore. It’s time to call it quits.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, John. I’m getting out of here so I can go to the cafeteria and think clearly.” Malcolm started.
“No, get out of San Diego. Get out now!” Hammond shouted.
Malcolm shook his head and went out of the room door.
Lex Murphy finished her mash potatoes as she took another sip of water, washing it down. She gulped hard. Malcolm sat across from her, watching her feast upon all the vegetables she had smacked down on her tray. The cafeteria was large, yet almost empty aside from them and some other people. Malcolm’s chair was uncomfortable and squeaked every time he made the slightest movement.
He rubbed his scruffy chin, checked the watch on his wrist, then, wiped away some crumbs that were sitting on his collar. Lex smiled, “I’m glad you came, Dr. Malcolm.”
Malcolm raised his eyebrows. Surely, he loved this girl like he did with his daughter. “You would have done it for me,” he said, drinking some coca-cola from his cup after saying this.
Lex was there in 1993 at Jurassic Park. She knew Malcolm had held something against her grandfather for a very long time. He also held the Isla Sorna incident with him for longer. Maybe he just thought that with Old John there was always bad luck; always some way for things to get screwed up. But this time, John didn’t have a dream. There was no vision for him or goal to go for.
“You know what relationship I have with him,” Lex said referring to Hammond.
“Yes, I do.” Malcolm stated on impulse.
“Ian, I appreciate you coming, but maybe this meeting is stirring something up.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been getting weird phone calls lately. I’ve heard strange tapings on the other end of the receivers. I think grandpa is in serious trouble. Like, very big trouble. Has he mentioned anything to you? Any word of people trying to reach him?”
Surprised, Malcolm wasn’t ready to tell her anything, but he went on. “Your grandfather told me things I didn’t want to hear. Uh, it was… uncalled for… and I just wasn’t going to listen to him. I came down hear to figure it out.”
“What did he tell you, Dr. Malcolm?” Lex exaggerated and raised her voice.
He sighed; pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket.
Lex’s eyes widened, “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I do now.” He said, almost comically. “Look,” Malcolm continued while lighting up the cigarette. “What he told me was something kind of unbelievable. He said something about… men in black coming to get me… you know, stuff you’d say on morphine I suppose. I said stuff that crazy when I was in the hospital in Costa Rica… or so I was told. People said back then I was shouting shit about a ‘cotton land’. Rather humorous when you think about it. Other times I would be pissing myself all over the floor, saying that I needed more morphine. My point is when you’re that doped up you’ll do or say anything.
“But, he had told me that I was in danger. If it wasn’t the morphine, then I truly believe your grandfather has become the good old man he should’ve been. He told me that the reason why they are after me is because…” He cut himself off when he saw three men in black standing in the entrances of the cafeteria.
All the entrances, two of them, were located from the right and left of him. To his right was one man dressed in a slick black unform, to his left were the other two. Lex noticed them as well. She understood that her grandfather thought of them as being very dangerous according to what Malcolm told her he said. Her hands began to jitter.
“What’s going on, Dr. Malcolm?”
Malcolm shook his head, “You’re, uh, asking the wrong person.”
“What do we do?”
“I have no fucking clue. Good God, Lex!”
In the hospital room, Hammond was slowly drifting to sleep when an unexpected movement came across the corner of his left eye. It had happened quickly, almost catlike. He didn’t know if it was human or not, but he felt very frightened about what it could have been. He tried to move his head over to it, but the strength in his body was leaving him fast.
When he attempted to do it once again, a black gloved hand covered his mouth, tightly in place. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t get the hand off his mouth. He was almost completely motionless. The man before him leaned his face in front of John’s. But it was blurry. Hammond couldn’t make it out.
“If you struggle it will be harder for you. Just let it go. Accept it. You’ll find you’ll go out very peacefully,” The blurred face said without increasing the volume of its voice.
Coldness was deep in the face’s eyes, John could see that around the blur. And as the old man kept struggling, he knew what the face said was true. He couldn’t help it. John had to suffer. It was meant to be. Darkness swept over Hammond’s eye sight like a soft blanket.
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