Jurassic Park: X-Factor

Lex took the cylinder and held it in front of her, clearly nervous. She stared at the viscous green fluid inside, wondering whether they were about to save Alan Grant's life or end it. She ran through a mental prayer, but stopped halfway through. She hadn't prayed in so long, the words wouldn't come to her.

Dr. Cross produced a syringe. Lex looked at her and nodded, but Cross didn’t respond at all.

"What is it?" Lex asked.

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea."

"What choice do we have?" Lex demanded.

"Whoa, ladies," Rick cut in. "I thought we had this settled."

"Shut up, Rick," they said in unison.

He turned away without another word.

"We could choose not to do it," Lyndsey argued.

Lex shook her head. "Look at him. We have no idea when help might show up, if ever. This shit," she said, shaking the vial for emphasis, "is the only chance he has."

"And if it's toxic, we'll shorten his life from days to minutes."

"And if it shortens his life, then he won't spend the next few days in agony, with his mind half-gone."

Lyndsey's eyes locked on Lex's for a long moment, and Lex could see the conflicting emotions there. "We have to take a chance, for his sake," Lex whispered.

At last, Lyndsey Cross nodded agreement and took the cylinder from Lex. She twisted the plastic seal on the top of the cylinder, breaking it cleanly in two, revealing a tiny hole in the vial's cap. She inserted the needle into the hole and slowly withdrew the thick, green substance inside.

"Is it supposed to be so thick, Dr. Cross?" Tim asked.

"Now how the hell should I know what anti-dino-bite medicine is supposed to look like, you dork?"

Tim shrunk away, looking sheepish.

Lyndsey took the syringe out of the top of the cylinder and read the markings on the side, ensuring that it matched the recommended dose for Alan's body weight.

Handing the vial back to Lex, Dr. Cross knelt beside Alan Grant, who stared blankly at the ceiling. He looked dead already.

With unsteady hands, she gently turned back his sleeve, revealing the gaunt, pale forearm beneath.

"Okay," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. She took a deep breath and sunk the needle into Alan's arm.

He sat bolt upright, his face inches away from Lyndsey's, howling. She screamed and recoiled, then lost her balance and ended up seated on the floor.

"Why did you do that?" Alan demanded, then slumped over sideways, striking his head on the cabinets in the center of the room.

They all stared at Alan as he lay there, his breathing still shallow and labored, his eyes still vacuous and detached.

"I guess it takes a while to work," Tim said at last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think I know what happened to it," Rick announced. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with his rifle disassembled in his lap.

Lex looked at him quizzically, but said nothing.

"From the looks of the hammer here, I'd say someone went out of their way to bend it."

"Bend it why?" Lex whispered.

"So it wouldn't strike the primer. Look here." He held up one of the rifle shells for her inspection. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be seeing.

"The center part is the primer. The hammer strikes the primer, which makes a tiny little explosion that sets off the powder inside the shell. The gun won't fire if the primer isn't struck."

"Fascinating," Lex said, rolling her eyes. "What's it mean?"

"There's a dent here in the rim of the cartridge, but the center is untouched. The hammer was hitting the wrong place."

Tim had walked up quietly behind Rick. "Could that have been just a malfunction?"

"Possibly," Rick answered. "Hard to say. These rifles have been pretty badly abused over the last few days, but let's not forget we've got a resident gun-hater among us."

"Wait," Tim protested. "She hates guns, not people. She'd never do anything to get someone killed."

"Still, I think we need to keep our eyes open," Rick suggested.

"There's someone else we need to keep our eyes on, too," Lex added.

"If you mean Markinson," Rick whispered, "I've been keeping an eye on him for days."

"Where is he, anyway?" Lex asked.

"I saw him earlier," Tim said. "He was taking one of the computers apart."

"For what?" Rick asked.

"Something about the clock batteries. He was saying we could string enough of them together to maybe power the radio."

Lex laughed. "Stupid," she muttered.

"Stupid why?"

"Computer clock batteries are nothing. They're measured in microvolts. It would probably take nineteen hundred of the damn things to turn on a flashlight."

"Well," Rick said, "if it keeps him busy and away from me, I'm all for it. He nearly got me killed earlier, and I'm not so sure I wouldn't be willing to return the favor."

"I can't believe he tried to shut you out," Lex said.

"I don't doubt anything he does anymore. I’m still trying to figure out how he got hurt, since he never got near the raptors. His face is bruised something awful."

"Funny," Tim said, smacking his fist into his open palm. "So are my knuckles."

"You punched him?" Lex said, incredulous.

"He was panicking, holding the door shut. I had to get through, and he was way past being reasoned with."

"Cool," Rick and Lex said in unison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rick stood at the doorway leading downstairs, breathing deeply, with Lex's rifle in his right hand. His left hand rested on the doorknob as he tried to mentally prepare for the job ahead. Two thin plastic dust covers, designed to fit over the computer monitors when they weren't in use, hung from his belt. He wasn't sure they would do the job they were intended for, but they'd have to suffice. They had searched the entire room and could come up with nothing better.

Tim stood near the observation windows overlooking the fenced area and the equipment shed. He held his rifle aloft, demonstrating to Rick that he was ready. "I got your back," he said simply.

Rick nodded. He trusted Tim--after all, the guy had saved his life once already.

The problem wasn't Tim. It was the raptors.

He had seen and endured many things in his lifetime, and had come through dozens of trials with flying colors. He had learned to put aside his fear and get the job done at all costs. He couldn't remember the last time he had been seriously afraid of anything.

He was seriously afraid of the raptors.

Perhaps terrified might be a better word.

They were horrendous creatures, built to kill and nothing more. He had dealt with predators, but none like these. The big cats were cunning, but these things were intelligent.

He found himself thinking of a time when he and his team had been hired to recover valuables from a yacht lost in the South Pacific. He didn't normally do that sort of thing, but he and John Lee were both certified divers, and the water was clear and shallow and the money was right.

The dive had gone well, but on the fourth day, a shark had arrived on the scene.

It was a big bastard, fifteen feet by Rick's estimation. It had cruised through the water amiably enough, paying little attention to Rick at first.

The shark had taken an interest in him as he neared the surface, and had turned abruptly toward him. The creature moved with stunning speed, but fortune smiled and John Lee had been a little quicker than the swift predator. Rick was hauled out of the water, into the safety of the boat.

Now, on this forsaken island near Costa Rica, where some crazy son of a bitch had decided to make dinosaurs, he faced another fast, agile predator.

This one was smarter.

This one was here in greater numbers.

And this time, there was no John Lee to haul him out.

He sighed, thinking of his friend. He knew he would mourn, once he was back home and things were normal again. He knew he would suffer from his lifelong friend's absence for many years to come.

But for now, he knew he had a job to do. Taking one last deep breath, he gave Tim a thumbs-up, then opened the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim watched anxiously through the observation windows, keeping an eye open for Rick's appearance outside. At the same time, he scanned the treeline for signs of unwanted company. He and Rick had worked together to carefully break out one of the double panes, offering Tim a clear shot at anything that moved on that side of the building.

Every hint of movement caught his attention, from distant trees shaking in the breeze to the dancing, fleeting shadows of the scattered clouds overhead. Lex and Dr. Cross stood watch at the opposite bank of windows. Markinson sat a few feet from Tim, keeping an eye on the window but mostly concerned with eating a can of rations.

"About earlier," Markinson said in a low voice, "I don't know what came over me. I…I guess I panicked. Thanks for bringing me out of it."

Tim, who still felt a little disgusted by the whole incident, opted to keep his opinion to himself and his eyes on the horizon. He offered only a slight nod as evidence that he'd even heard Markinson's words.

"You got a mean right hook," Markinson added, trying to spark the conversation.

Tim stared ahead, trying his best to concentrate on his job.

"Anyway," Markinson said, clearly not realizing the conversation had ended before it even began, "you, uh…you guys can count on me. Seriously. I'm getting--I've got my act together."

Tim made no sound or move in reply. He narrowed his eyes, watching the edges of the clearing for movement.

Markinson, giving up at last, crossed to the opposite bank of windows, where Lex and Lyndsey kept vigil.

The reception he received there was no better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rick stepped through the first-floor doorway and into the bright orange glow of late afternoon. He glanced around quickly, checking in all directions for any sign of a renewed attack from the dinosaurs. Everything seemed clear, but the fact did little to calm his nerves; the enemy was quick and smart and probably waiting around the next corner.

He wiped the damp palms of his hands on the seat of his pants, first right, then left, shifting the rifle from hand to hand as he did so. He had learned from years of experience that the worst enemy was sometimes not the one on the other end of the gun.

He breathed deeply, once, twice, then exhaled slowly, trying to regulate his breathing. Being out of breath with fear could be deadly if he had to run even a short distance against the lightning-fast raptors.

He took in another deep breath and began to move toward the shed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even through the double-thick glass, Tim heard the dinosaurs even before he saw them, calling to each other as they moved through the jungle toward the clearing. He raised his rifle instinctively, watching the horizon through the high-powered scope. He tried to prepare himself for the sight of the raptors, a horrific visual that he could never quite get used to. But when they didn't appear, that was somehow worse.

Lyndsey and Lex came up behind Tim, having also heard the raptors. Lex came to the window, searching. After a moment, she turned back to Tim, puzzled.

"What's going on? Where are they?"

"They're staying in the cover of the forest," Dr. Cross answered. "They won't come out into the open until they're ready."

Lex moved closer toward the open window. "We have to let Rick know," she said breathlessly.

"Lex," Tim said gently, "If we can hear them, he can hear them."

She stood at the window, still scanning the clearing around them.

Rick came into view then, moving away from their position in the building, moving at a swift trot toward the fenced area. Lex leaned forward across the dusty computer monitors, watching his progress.

He reached the fence and stopped, taking a quick look in all directions. He cast a glance back up at the second-floor window, making sure his cover was still in position. Tim gave him a quick thumbs-up.

Rick slipped his rifle strap over his shoulder and began to climb the fence. He moved quickly, making his way up with surprising speed.

He stopped near the top and reached down with his right hand, pulling the plastic dust covers out of his belt. He reached up and draped them over the barbs on the wire at the top of the fence, taking care not to drop them. It wouldn't pay to have to scramble back down now if they fell on his side of the fence, and he didn't want to think about going over without them if they fell on the other side.

With the protection in place, he hauled himself up and onto the top of the fence.

The barbs broke through the plastic under the weight of his body, piercing him in the chest and lower abdomen. He bit his lip, stifling the scream of pain that might bring the raptors on the run.

He managed to balance his weight across the top of the wire. He rested there for a moment with a barb jammed in his stomach, then carefully brought his left leg up and onto the top of the fence.

He slowly, gently shifted his weight to the far side of the fence, taking great care not to spike his groin on the hateful barbed wire. He moved his left foot around, seeking a place to plant it on the far side of the fence. His palms were slick again, and salty sweat trickled down his forehead and stung at his eyes.

At last his boot slipped neatly into the open diamond of the chain link. He exhaled in a great gust, then took another breath as he prepared to bring up his right leg and haul himself across.

He never saw the raptors coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"TIM!" Lex shouted, pointing at the edge of the forest.

"I see them," Tim said breathlessly, raising his rifle again.

A pair of raptors was emerging from the jungle. They rocketed toward the place where Rick now hung helplessly in the middle of the fence.

The first of the great predators reached Rick, leaping upward, its jaws snapping closed just inches from his exposed right leg. Just as the second raptor arrived, he realized what was happening and jerked his right leg over the fence, oblivious to the barbs that tore into the flesh of his calf. He held tight with his hands, letting his body swing downward. He struck the fence hard, rattling the chain link.

The first raptor leapt again, feet-first, the terrible killing claws on its toes extended. In the split-second he had to decide, Rick did the only thing he could think of: he simply let go.

He went down hard and rolled away from the fence. He looked up in time to see the first raptor strike the chain link, followed immediately by the second. The two animals settled back to the ground, hissing and growling. He had cheated them, and they didn't appear too happy about it.

He stood up quickly, but a stabbing pain in his left ankle put him back down just as fast. He had twisted it in the fall, it seemed, or had perhaps even broken it.

The first raptor was looking up, studying the top of the fence, when Tim shot it. The raptor went down face-first in a heap.

The second raptor turned and looked back in the direction from which the shot had come.

Rick took to his feet, trying to overcome the pain or, at the very least, ignore it long enough to get inside the shed.

The remaining raptor turned back toward him, studied the fence for a moment, then raised its head and barked rapidly.

The rest of the pack came on the run, too many and too fast to count. They joined the lone raptor by the fence, and after a moment of growling and snarling, turned and darted away in the direction of the main building.

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4/4/2003 12:19:16 AM

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