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X Factor Chapter 15
By drucifer67
Jurassic Park: X-Factor
Chapter Fifteen – The East Bank
"When they get back, I think I'm going to suggest lunch," Alan said offhandedly.
Lex looked at him and smiled. "I thought I heard your stomach growl," she replied. "At least I hoped it was your stomach."
Alan laughed. "So much has happened since breakfast," he said. "We've covered a lot of ground."
Lex agreed. "We've come a long way. I wish we hadn't hit a roadblock."
"Once we figure out how to cross the river, things will begin to move quickly again," Alan assured her. He shifted his weight, grimacing a little as he moved. His stomach muscles were still sore from the run-in with Carlisle. "Maybe too quickly, for an old man like me."
Lex laughed. "You're not old, Dr. Grant," she said, smiling. "You're getting there, but you're not old."
Alan stared back at her blankly. "Getting there," he echoed. "Thank you."
"You're young yet, Alan," she said, a more serious tone in her voice.
"Too late to kiss up now," he said good-naturedly.
"No, I'm serious," she insisted. "You've got half your life ahead of you."
Grant admitted that this was probably true, but she thought she sensed something like dread in his tone.
"Besides, getting old doesn't mean much. Look at my Grandpa. He was nearly seventy years old when InGen got into trouble, but his age never crossed his mind—he was only interested in salvaging his life's work. He's managed to pull himself and the company back from the brink."
"I read about Project Silverback," Grant said, nodding slightly. "That was a brilliant stroke."
Lex agreed. "InGen also worked with white Bengal tigers, cranes, turtles—you name it." Hammond's company had, in fact, begun to restore the populations of fourteen different species of endangered and threatened animals. The funding from private organizations had breathed new life into the financial train-wreck InGen had become after the Jurassic Park incident.
Grant could only nod understanding. He wondered whether InGen's recovery was actually a good thing. He didn't imagine they might be back at work on dinosaurs in secret—that notion was a little far-fetched. But Alan wasn't so sure that he liked the idea of re-establishing endangered populations through cloning. To prevent the extinction of species threatened by man's actions was noble—but in the end, man's actions would most likely exterminate those animals all over again.
"What's that?" Lex asked suddenly, and the anxiousness in her voice startled him.
Alan looked up to see the fast-moving animal in the distance. He got quickly to his feet. Lex stood and instinctively stepped closer to him.
He squinted, trying to focus. More dinosaurs joined the first, sprinting through the woods in a great flowing mass.
"Gallimimus, I think," he said. "Stampede. Get your things, we need to find cover."
She gathered her pack and followed Alan's lead to the embankment, where he spotted a tree suitable for a fast climb. He instructed Lex to go up, and hastily followed behind.
From the tree, they watched the herd as it moved past. The animals collided and stumbled against each other as they raced on. To Grant's way of thinking, they seemed to be in a panic.
The group thundered through the place where Alan and Lex had been sitting only moments before, and Lex shuddered. She found herself grateful that Alan had acted so quickly.
The last straggler of the herd bolted past the tree, chasing the rest of the group as they fled across a clearing and into the deep forest beyond. Grant watched them go, studying their movements, awed.
They had only begun to climb down from the tree when they heard a terrifying roar, not more than a hundred yards away.
"Oh, God," Lex whispered. "What is it?"
Grant shook his head. He couldn't be certain just by the sound, of course, but it didn't sound like any of the dinosaurs he had encountered here before.
"Come on," he instructed, pointing up into the higher branches of the tree. "Whatever it is, it's big. We'll stand a better chance of going unnoticed up where the foliage is dense."
"Okay," she replied, and started up. Grant waited for her to get a few feet ahead, then braced himself and began to climb after her.
Then he heard something moving quickly in the undergrowth, and stopped. He carefully turned his head back in the direction of the sound, peering through the gaps in the tree, trying to see what it may have been. The vocalization had come from something big—but whatever was running toward them was small and fast and nimble. He hoped it was a stray Gallimimus, but he doubted that he and Lex could be that lucky.
Then he saw that it was Markinson. He realized he had been holding his breath, and he let it out in a gush.
"Markinson! Mr. Markinson!" he called.
"Get the hell out of here!" Markinson called back.
"What happened out there?" Grant demanded, but Markinson didn't answer. He continued to sprint away into the distance, and soon disappeared from view.
Grant turned back to Lex. "Let's go," he said gravely, and started down again.
"I thought you said we'd be better off here," Lex protested.
"We can't risk being separated from the rest of the group," Alan explained.
"Where's Ramirez?" Lex wondered aloud.
Grant considered this for a moment, then said finally, "I can only imagine."
Will Bradford had found what he was looking for at last.
After carefully picking through Eichmann's desk, he had turned his attention to the two tall filing cabinets in the corner of the office. He scanned the files in one drawer after another, looking for familiar names. Eichmann seemed to have his own system of order, and the alphabet appeared to have nothing to do with it.
Then he came to a divider neatly marked SORNA. Behind it was a series of files which, when stacked, would easily stand six inches high.
Bradford sighed. Going through that much information would be like reading War and Peace. There was no time to be thorough.
He hauled the files out of the drawer and carried them to Eichmann's desk. He thumbed through the stack swiftly, reading file names as he went. The names of Wu and Malcolm and Wallace and Hammond were all there, among many others—some he had heard, and some he hadn't.
He collected the files and tucked them neatly under his arm. If Eichmann checked the file drawer and found these missing, all hell would likely break loose—but it was a risk Bradford had to take. There were too many things about the situation that didn't make sense, and he intended to sort things out.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the corridor, locking Eichmann's office door behind him. He called for the elevator.
Grant and Lex found the others a hundred yards or so upriver, standing in a huddle and discussing what to do next.
"Did you see anything?" Rick asked.
Grant shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. They had sprinted most of the distance, and he had cultivated a stitch in the side of his ribcage.
"We saw the herd," Lex offered, "but we never saw what was after them."
"Okay, then," Carlisle said. "I think it's safe to say we've lost them. Dr. Grant?"
Alan was so surprised that Carlisle had consulted him that it took him a moment to answer. "I think it's safe to say that," he said at last. "We haven't seen any sign of pursuit."
"Just the same," Rick said, "I’m going to suggest we keep moving north. Put as much distance as we can between us and them."
Alan agreed. He was growing unbelievably hungry, but now was certainly not the time to stop.
Carlisle set out to the north, and Markinson followed. Rick hesitated, studying Alan and Lex. "You two okay? You need a breather?"
Lex shook her head emphatically. She couldn't admit how exhausting their panicked race to safety had been.
"No," Grant answered reluctantly. "We should keep moving."
As if on cue, the great predator in the distance bellowed again, the sound rolling through the river valley, echoing all around them.
"Good idea," Rick said, hurrying to catch up with the others.
"We can do this," Rick announced.
He stood on an outcropping overlooking the river. Nearly an hour had passed since they had regrouped following the Gallimimus stampede, and they had at last found what seemed to be a safe place to descend to the river. The embankment was a relatively gentle slope covered with a prolific growth of vegetation—a sharp contrast to the precipitous drop they had found when they first arrived at the river.
"Still looks pretty steep," Markinson said, doubtful. He took a careful step forward, looking down into the valley below.
Rick gave him a warning look. "This is where we descend," he said matter-of-factly. It seemed to Lex that Rick had developed a sudden dislike for Markinson.
Grant agreed. "It's doubtful we'll find a more suitable place."
Markinson looked around at the faces of the others, then shrugged. "Okay," he said at last.
Rick went down first, with Carlisle right behind. They leaned backward, legs bent slightly, trying to maintain their balance as they slipped and slid down the incline.
Markinson followed cautiously, taking each step as if it might be his last.
Lex and Alan exchanged a glance, then Lex nodded once, bolstering herself, and started down.
Alan put his hand on his stomach, feeling the ugly purple bruise that had flowered there. Wincing, he went to the edge and began to descend.
Rick lost his balance and went down on his back, sliding several feet before managing to bring himself to a stop. Carlisle came along behind, slowing to a stop, offering to assist.
Markinson catapulted past them, lurching along, using his rifle as a balance pole as he fought to stay upright. Gravity became his enemy, increasing his momentum as he hurtled toward the river. He managed to keep his feet, which probably worked to his disadvantage—less contact with the ground meant less friction. He was, in effect, skiing without benefit of equipment.
He finally lost his balance and went down flat on his back. He rocketed down the slope, reaching across his body as he went, trying to find something to take hold of to slow his insanely quick descent. He bounced along, uncontrollably, flipping over onto his stomach as he slid. He struck the riverbank feet-first, kicking up a great fantail of sand. He lay there, hugging the earth, glad to have made it down alive.
Rick, with Carlisle's help, had managed to get to his feet and resume his carefully controlled journey down. He skated along, one arm thrown back to help his balance, with Carlisle beside him. They reached the bottom almost simultaneously. Rick drew himself up, breaking free of the dense growth, and came down feet-first in the soft sand.
Carlisle didn’t jump. He reached the edge of the greenery and went down gracelessly, face-first, skidding another ten feet on the beach before coming to a stop just a few feet from the water's edge.
Lex was well ahead of Grant, maintaining a fairly happy medium between speed and balance. She worked her arms, managing her body weight deftly. Angling her feet slightly to the right, she discovered, created a sort of braking effect. She was surprised at how well this was going. She felt like a pro.
Then her feet became tangled in a thick jumble of low vines, pitching her weight forward. She struck the embankment hard, rolling to her left. She continued to slide, out of control, headfirst, grabbing blindly at the earth.
Her legs flew suddenly upward and over her head in an awkward reverse somersault. She landed on her side and barrel-rolled.
Alan watched as Lex lost her balance and tumbled. He threw himself down on his back and pushed off with his arms, building speed, racing to get to her.
Rick leapt to his feet, kicking up sand, and started back up the embankment. He watched as Lex rolled, her left arm twisting impossibly behind her back with a sickening tearing sound.
She finally reached the bottom, slamming into the sandy riverbank with a final hollow thud.
Rick knelt beside Lex. "Easy, don't move," he said gently.
Carlisle joined them, looking Lex over carefully. "She broke it," he pronounced.
Rick shook his head. "I don't think so." He moved his fingers deftly along the length of her left arm, feeling for signs of a fracture.
Grant came skidding to a halt at the bottom of the slope. He gathered himself up and rushed to Lex's side, calling her name.
"I'm okay, Dr. Grant," she said weakly.
"Sure you are," Rick said soothingly. "You're going to be fine. No broken bones, that's the good news."
"What's the bad news?" Alan asked.
"It's at least sprained, and I think she may have dislocated her shoulder."
"Shit," Carlisle muttered. "Two hundred miles from a hospital."
"Don't need a hospital," Rick said, his voice taking on a strictly-business quality that sounded completely foreign to the others. "Just some breathing room and a little help. Dr. Grant, take off your belt."
Alan, still trying to absorb what Rick had said, made no move to react.
"Today would be good, Doctor. She's in pain here."
Grant unbuckled his belt and slipped it off in a quick motion.
"Help me out here," Rick said. "When I lift her shoulders, slide the belt underneath."
Alan nodded, and Rick positioned himself over Lex, sliding his hands behind her back as gently as possible. "Ready?"
"Ready," Alan said. Lex shrieked as Rick lifted her shoulders off the ground. Alan quickly tucked the belt under her, feeding one end through to the other side.
Rick eased her shoulders back down on the soft sand and untied the bandana from her neck. He wadded the scarf tightly and held it up to Lex's face. "Put this in your mouth."
She stared back at him, not understanding.
"This is going to hurt like hell for just a minute. You're going to want something to bite down on."
She hesitated, then took the bandana with her good hand and tucked it into her mouth. She grimaced at the stale, salty taste of her own sweat on the fabric.
Rick slipped the end of the belt through the buckle and cinched it tight. He got to his feet, still holding the free end of the belt, and braced himself. "Hang on, now." he said. "This is the bad part."
He slid one hand down the length of the belt to hold the buckle in place, while at the same time pulling hard at the belt's free end. Lex screamed, muffled by the bandana, and tears squirted from the corners of her tightly closed eyes.
Then she stopped.
She opened her eyes slowly, uncertainly, looking around at Alan and Rick. She reached up and pulled the handkerchief from her mouth. "My God," was all she could manage to say.
"Better, I presume?" Rick asked, smiling a little.
"Much," she answered, still not able to believe how quickly she had felt the effect.
"You're welcome," he said, smiling. He knelt there looking at her for a few moments more before turning to the rest of the group. "She's going to need to rest for a while. I say we stop here and get something to eat."
Alan didn't wait around to hear any other opinions.
1/27/2003 12:15:46 AM
(Updated: 1/27/2003 11:41:03 AM)
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