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JP Seek and Destroy-Prologue, Ch.1-3
By rexbeatsspino
Prologue:Sorna
Isla Sorna, 127 miles West of Costa Rica
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They crept slowly through the thick foliage. Overturned trucks and oil cans lay scattered around the path. Cycads and gingkoes swayed slowly in the quiet jungle breeze. Leaves rustled under the ferns. They were so quiet, you could hear crickets chirping in the mud.
THEY were the crew of a Costa Rican fishing boat, which had crashed on Isla Sorna an hour ago. They had been quiet since they realized where they were. Local superstitions in Puntarenas said that the hupia, a monster who stole small children and ate them, lived here among this island chain known as the Five Deaths.
As they walked down the path, the tallest of the four men stumbled and fell into a giant hole. The hole was as big as an SUV. The short, round man pointed out that it wasn't a hole; it was, in fact, a three-toed footprint. And it was fresh!
The stealth fishermen went into a panic and ran down the path. They came to a clearing. All around them were small sheds. They went into the second one on their right, the newest-looking one in the clearing. Some sleeping bags and candy bars lied on the floor. This would make a good camp for the moment, until they could reach the communications building the next day and radio for help.
Night fell. The tall man, Pedro, got up to go to the bathroom. The round man's sleeping bag was empty. Pedro crept outside. The short grass was stained red. Pedro peered around the side of the shed. A tall tree trunk stood there. Pedro walked towards the bushes to urinate when he realized that the tree hadn't been there earlier. He turned and looked up the trunk, as it turned into a body, two forearms, and a square head with beady eyes looking right into his. Pedro's eyes grew wide with fear. He sprinted to the shed.
Pedro threw open the door and slammed it shut. The two other fishermen, limping Mario and short, bearded Carlos, woke up as the ground shook. The thumping stopped. They sighed with relief.
Suddenly, the roof was lifted into the air, and was flung out of their view. A square head replaced it. "Ay caramba!" cried Carlos. They scrambled to the door. But limping Mario was too slow. His head and chest disappeared under the tyrannosaur's giant mouth.
Pedro threw open the door and they ran outside. The rex's head was still in the shed. It looked up, blood dripping from its maw.
They didn't look back as they ran. They hopped over low branches and ran through the jungle. Pedro and Carlos came to an open field of six-foot tall grass. They could hear the rex chasing them. As they ran into the field, the rex stopped. He was standing at the edge, seemingly afraid of going into the field. Oh well, thought Pedro. We're safe now. But he didn't realize that you're never safe on Isla Sorna.
As they ran deeper into the field, the grass rustled alongside them. They didn't think much of it. They came to the center of the grass, and stopped. It was almost dawn, and the sun was just rising. The two grown men held each other close, as they were ripped apart by velociraptors.
Ch.1-Santiago
'BioSyn South America Airfield'
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WHIRRRRRRR! CHOP-CHOP-CHOP! The training pilots ran to their helicopters. The smell of stagnant oil filled the air.
A green-suited man ran towards his instructor. "You have been briefed already, but to review your objectives, you must rendezvous with the Americans in San Jose, Costa Rica. They have the Hammond Files for you to bring to San Francisco." The officer stopped, and glanced at the sky. "Try to avoid flying too low over the Islands, though. It's a restricted area. You know what the feds'll do if they catch you too low. Good luck."
The green-suited man hopped into the Apache behind him and started it up. The rotors spun so fast, they looked like one giant wheel. The tires lifted off the pavement, and he flew away from the South American BioSyn Headquarters. The helicopter turned left and he headed north to Costa Rica.
The chopper was getting near three tropical islands about twenty miles west of Costa Rica.
A shadow fell over the Apache. KAAWW-KAAWW!
Suddenly, the chopper rocked back and forth. The pilot's head hit the side of the cockpit, and he was knocked out. Blood splattered against the windshield, but he didn't see his helicopter go crashing down to the teardrop-shaped island below.
The pilot woke up, disoriented by his concussion. He looked around, not recognizing his surroundings. Where was his bed? Where was his wife? Where was his breakfast, waiting on the table?
He glanced around and noticed the flaming wreckage of an Apache helicopter wedged between two trees about twelve yards away. He ran over to one of the trees, grabbed a branch, and began climbing. The fire stopped by the time he reached the chopper.
The pilot climbed inside, checking the radio. It was dead. Great, he thought. Just great. He hopped down from the wreckage, and started walking down an overgrown path. "HELP!" he screamed, although he knew it was useless.
The jungle around him was silent. It was spooky. He started to jog. He was too enveloped in his sense of fear to see the giant root in the path in front of him. He tripped.
When he looked up from the dirt, chicken-sized, yellow-and-green lizards surrounded him. They chirped at him. He pushed up from the ground, and a sharp pain struck his ankle. It was broken. He tried to limp away. Despite the tremendous pain, he was able to move a few yards down the path. He stopped when he saw the eye staring at him through the thick foliage. He started to tremble. He knew it was watching him, too.
He didn't see the attack coming from the sides. As the two green velociraptors ripped him apart, he closed his eyes and waited for the pain to go away. The raptors ate what they wanted, and the little chicken dinosaurs, compies, came in to eat the leftovers.
Ch.2-Snakewater
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Montana gets cold in October.
Tarps and tents covered the dig, and sheets of rain were bombing the desert floor.
Dr. Alan Grant paced back and forth in the RV trailer. Cheryl, one of the college kids volunteering at the dig, hung up the phone. "When's Billy getting here?" asked Grant impatiently.
"He said their flight's delayed, and he won't get back until tomorrow afternoon." Cheryl replied. "It's pouring over there, too." She glanced out the window at the rain.
"He should've known better than to go to New Zealand in the fall. That Chucky is always making him do stupid things. We really need him right now. We've only got a few hundred dollars of dig funding left. He knows how to raise money."
"Yeah," she replied, and there was silence for a moment. "Well, I'm gonna go take a nap. See ya later."
She left the room.
Grant dusted off his worn jeans and sat down on the couch. He was so depressed, he felt like crying. His nephew had just died of cancer. He was broke. Billy was hang gliding in New Zealand, and the rain was destroying the site. They only had a few weeks left before they had to close the dig.
Nobody funded their research anymore, because they could go study 'actual' dinosaurs. The actual 'actual' dinosaurs were in museums. InGen's dinosaurs were theme park monsters. Grant sighed. If only Billy were here.
The next afternoon, a taxi pulled up. It came to a screeching stop, spewing mud all over the side of the trailer. Billy hopped out with a big bag, paid the driver, and walked towards the trailer door. Another person hopped out the far door. It was Chucky Grisham, Billy's obnoxious drinking friend.
Grant didn't like him. He was immature. He listened to Grant's least favorite music, rap. He ate nothing that didn't have grease. He was annoying, especially on car rides. And he was spending a few days at the dig for volunteer work. Great, Grant thought.
Billy patted Grant on the back. "Hey, Alan. Anything happen while I was gone?"
Grant was about to answer, but Chucky spoke. "Yo, wassup Dr. G?!" he said, raising his hand in the air. Grant ignored him.
"Actually, Billy, Hammond called. He said it was extremely important, and we need to get to his warehouse by Thursday."
Billy said, "But that's today! We don't have tickets for a plane!"
"Actually, Hammond took care of that. Three tickets." Grant waved three plane tickets in the air. "We're going to Palo Alto."
"Hey, can I come?" Chucky asked, with pleading eyes.
Grant opened his mouth to answer, but Billy beat him. "Sure, why not? Let's get going!"
They put on their hoods and walked into the rain. Grant caught up to Billy as they headed to the Dodge pickup. "Why'd you let him come?" Grant whispered to him.
"Why not? Hammond gave you an extra ticket. Who knows? He might be of some help."
"I don't like him. I'm getting a bad feeling that he'll ruin whatever Hammond's got planned, which is probably just an assembly rewarding us for surviving Isla Sorna."
"Let him slide, Alan. We'll be fine.
They headed to the airport.
Ch.3-Palo Alto
Hammond's Mansion
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They arrived at the warehouse-mansion and their mouths dropped open. The architecture was beautiful, and the whole place could be summed upin one word:BIG!
The mansion was covered in intricate carvings of what seemed like every dinosaur ever discovered. It looed as if the building was a giant vertical excavation site filled with untouched dinosaur bones. Grant gaped in awe.
"Look, Billy! A pelecanimimus! An allosaurus! A ceolophysis!There's even a shuvuuia! Think of the hard work Hammond's architects put into this building! They look so realistic!"
Billy and Chuckie were already at the front door. As Grant hurried up the steps the door opened. An aged butler stood in the doorway."Ahem," he said."May I help you?"
"We're here to see Mr. Hammond." Billy answered.
"And you are?"
"Oh, I'm Billy Brennan. This is my colleague, Dr. Alan Grant, and this is just my friend, Charles Grisham."
"Mmmmyes, I see. Right this way." The butler lead them through the massive glass rotunda of the main hall. The room was filled with prehistoric plants so dense that Grant couldn't see the ceiling.
In the distance, he could here a waterfall roaring.
"Paradise," He muttered."Paradise lost."
They finally reached the end of the room and a row of giant swinging glass doors. They lead to the backyard.When they walked through the doors and looked around the backyard, they were amazed. It was as big as four football fields laid next to each other and it was filled with flowers. In the back right corner, a giant warehouse sat. The butler took them down a path to the warehouse.
As they approached, they could hear the sounds of drilling and blowtorches, and the loud clanking of metal on concrete. The giant garage-like doors were open and waiting, and the butler lead them inside.
They were surrounded by work. Scurrying workers, rolling maintenance carts, many moving parts. "A true working environment!" Grant yelled at Billy.
"WHAT?!" Billy yelled back.
"A TRUE WORKING ENVIRONMENT!" Grant repeated.
"WHAT?!" Billy yelled back.
"Never mind!"
"WHAT?! ASK ME LATER, I CAN'T HEAR YOU RIGHT NOW!"
Grant turned and walked up the metal staircase with Billy, Chuckie, and the butler. He was lead to an office. Hammond sat crouched over a desk inside.
6/11/2003 10:13:46 PM
(Updated: 6/11/2003 10:39:05 PM)
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