Dinosaur Thunder (30 page)

“Where are we?” Jeanette asked, landing on her toes to absorb the shock.

“Maybe we should go back?” Elizabeth suggested.

“We’ll be okay,” Jeanette said, breathing hard. “We’ve got to find Do and the boys.”

Looking up, Elizabeth saw the blue sky had a pinkish tinge. A thin overcast smeared across the sky, filtering the sun. Oddly, the sun looked smaller, like the size of a baseball. Using the sun’s position to orient, Elizabeth could see a mountain range to the east, dominated by one gigantic peak twice the height of the peaks on either side. Golden-tipped grasses ran north to the horizon, a hill topped with the puffy-headed dandelion trees stood to the west, and a little south of it was a larger hill where the golden-tipped grass was patchy, broken by reddish earth and gray rocks. Behind them was a rocky hill, looking like a pile of rubble. Caves pockmarked the hill, the one they emerged from dark. Looking closely, Elizabeth could see shapes moving on the other side, but the creatures made no move to follow them through.

“Do!” Jeanette called over and over, gasping for breath between calls.

“Jeanette, maybe we should look around before we make a lot of noise,” Elizabeth said.

“There’s nothing here,” Jeanette said. “I can see a mile in all directions, except for that way,” pointing at the nearest hill.

As if on cue, a large animal lumbered over the nearest hill. Bulky like an elephant, with four stumpy legs, the creature had the long neck of a giraffe that ended in a horse-shaped head. Two large eyes on short fat stalks took up the top third of the head, the snout ending in long buckteeth that overlapped fleshy lips. With pinkish skin, the animal looked flushed but stood calmly, looking down at the humans, its eyes moving back and forth on its stalks as if the animal was trying to get an angle on the humans that made optical sense. To her left, Elizabeth saw Jeanette raise her rifle.

“Don’t shoot,” Elizabeth said. “Not yet.”

“Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti,” Jeanette sang.

Grasses rustled, velociraptors emerging then spreading out, heads high, looking over the grass at the creature on the hill.

“Where’s Do?” Jeanette wondered out loud.

Its eyestalks finally at rest, the creature continued to study the humans and their animals. After another minute, the eyestalks shifted, then the head turned, the animal looking at the puffy trees.

“Elizabeth,” Jeanette said. “The trees are leaving.”

Jeanette was right. What they had thought were trees were moving slowly over the hill where they had stood, and down the other side. The creature turned, revealing a stumpy pink tail, following the trees in a slow-motion chase. A little while later, the trees and the creature were gone over the hill.

“That’s just too creepy,” Jeanette said.

“Let’s climb the big hill and see if we can find any sign of Nick and Carson,” Elizabeth said.

“And Do,” Jeanette added.

The grass varied in height but most stood waist- to chest-high, the green stalks resilient, bending when pushed aside and then springing back. The well-mannered grasses were evenly spaced and easy to walk through. Even stepping on the stalks bent them, but did not break them. The golden tops were cone-shaped clusters of grains covered in yellow down. Fine yellow dust fell from the clusters when the grass was disturbed.

“Do,” Jeanette called as they walked.

Elizabeth did not bother chiding Jeanette. She was genuinely concerned for Do, although Elizabeth noticed Jeanette did not call her boyfriend’s name, just Do’s. At the base of the hill, they paused, catching their breath. Walking was easy, but still Elizabeth was breathing like she had been running. Feeling nauseated, her head aching, Elizabeth bent, putting her hands on her knees. Jeanette leaned back, hands on her hips, eyes closed. Elizabeth had skied Aspen once, getting altitude sickness on the first day. This felt like that day, only it came on more quickly and with less exertion.

“If we make the top of this hill, that’s about as far as I can go,” Elizabeth said.

“Yeah,” Jeanette said. “The boys wouldn’t stay here if there was a way out. Those aliens suckered us into coming here.”

Too nauseated to argue, Elizabeth climbed the hill, one slow step after another. Head pounding, Elizabeth focused on the climb, placing each foot carefully. Jeanette gave up calling for Do, walking with her hands on her hips. Reaching the top they were sweating, breathing hard, and pressing their temples to stop the throbbing.

“I’m going to puke,” Jeanette said, looking for a good spot.

The hilltop was bare, the crown made up of red earth broken by protruding gray rocks. Sitting on a boulder-sized rock, Elizabeth rested, trying to ignore the headache. Sally was just as winded, lying down next to the boulder, panting and drooling. The velociraptors showed the least effect, spreading out across the crown, forming a picket line.

“Did you train them to do that?” Elizabeth asked.

“I trained them to chase a rubber mouse on a string,” Jeanette said. “They started doing this kind of stuff right after they hatched.”

“They think you’re their mother,” Elizabeth said.

“I guess I am,” Jeanette said.

The headache subsiding a bit, Elizabeth stood, scanning the landscape. The giraffe-necked creature had caught one of the trees and had it on the ground, one foot on its trunk, ripping off the yellow fronds making up its puffy-looking top. Both creatures were silent, one eating, the other apparently dying. In the distance, Elizabeth saw clumps of puff trees here and there, and miles of the golden grasses. In the far distance, Elizabeth thought she could see patches of purple shapes resembling bushes or trees, but it would be a long walk to be sure. There were no animal trails in any direction, but the springy grass would hide animal travel.

“There’s nothing here,” Elizabeth said. “I wouldn’t even know which way to walk.”

“That way, maybe,” Jeanette said, coming to stand next to her. “There’s a lake or something.”

Following Jeanette’s point to the north, Elizabeth found the silver smudge, outlined with more of the yellow puff tree creatures.

“I don’t know if I could walk that far,” Elizabeth said, still breathing deeply.

“Do!” Jeanette screeched.

Do came running up the hill, something squirming in his jaws. Jeanette embraced the predator, stroking its head.

“Where have you been?” she said. “I was worried.”

Taut skin and beaks were not made for expression, but Do bounced excitedly, then spit his bundle at Jeanette’s feet. The other velociraptors crowded around, interested in the find. Pushing through the throng, Sally sniffed the bundle. The little brown fur ball bled pinkish blood from lacerations in its side. Slowly, it uncurled, revealing a head and tail. The head was feline, the tail long, whiplike, and ending in a bony knob. Long legs unfolded, with five-toed and -clawed feet. Orange stripes created flamelike shapes running from around the eyes back along its head. Black lips opened to reveal double rows of pointed teeth. The creature whimpered, clearly suffering. Large green eyes open wide, it stared in terror at the creatures surrounding it.

“It’s a kitten,” Jeanette said.

“That’s no cat!” Elizabeth said.

“I mean it’s a baby,” Jeanette said.

“Quick, get rid of it,” Elizabeth said.

“What?” Jeanette said, eyes flashing. “Do hurt it. We can’t just dump it.”

“We’ve got to,” Elizabeth said. “That’s something’s baby.”

Elizabeth stood, looking back where Do had come up the hill. Elizabeth saw nothing but grasses in all directions. A light breeze made gentle ripples. Then Elizabeth froze, seeing a ripple of grass moving against the ripples produced by the breeze. The contrary ripple moved slowly, inexorably toward the hill.

“Get your gun,” Elizabeth said.

Alerted by Elizabeth’s tone, velociraptors trotted to the edge, sensing the danger. Do in the middle, the velociraptors stood frozen, eyes on the waving grasses. Jeanette joined them, the kitten nestled in the crook of her arm.

“Jeanette, you’re getting blood on your clothes,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s hurt,” Jeanette said.

“There,” Elizabeth said, pointing. “See the way that grass moves.”

“That may be nothing,” Jeanette said, but watched the anomalous movement approach the hill.

Near the base of the rise where the grass began to thin, the ripple stopped, the grass resuming normal movement.

“What do you think?” Jeanette asked, eyes on the spot.

Perfectly still, the velociraptors watched expectantly. Sally squeezed between Jeanette and Elizabeth, giving a soft
woof
.

“I think you should shoot,” Elizabeth said.

“Seriously?” Jeanette asked. “Shoot the grass?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said.

Shrugging, Jeanette gently set the kitten on the ground, then lifted her rifle, aimed, and fired. At the report, dozens of golden shapes erupted from the grasses a mile in all directions, rising into the air. Many trailed long tails, forked at the end, and some were surprisingly large—big enough to lift a golden retriever, or maybe a person. Most rose on batlike wings, but others had small bodies and long bird wings. Shocked, the women watched the creatures climb and circle. They were still looking up when the attack came from below.

36

Unfrozen

I am tired of all this sort of thing called science here.… We have spent millions in that sort of thing in the last few years, and it is time it should be stopped.

—Simon Cameron, U.S. Senator, on the Smithsonian Institution, 1861

Present Time
Lake County, Florida

Emmett Puglisi sat on the edge of his desk, feet on his desk chair, running his fingers through his thinning hair and listening to his mother-in-law, Grandma Chen, scold him.

“None of her sisters’ husbands run around the world like you do. I thought you quit that dinosaur-hunting job. Why aren’t you here with your wife and children?”

“I told you, Grandma, I’m not looking for dinosaurs,” Emmett explained for the third time. “All I do is mathematical modeling.”

“So they don’t have chalkboards in Hawaii?” Grandma Chen asked.

Emmett could picture his mother-in-law, sitting on the stool in Emmett and Carrollee’s kitchen, wearing a tropical shirt over shorts, her legs a deep Hawaiian tan, her gray hair in a tight bun, her mouth just as tight, her brow knitted, part of a permanent disapproving scowl. Grandma Chen was half Chinese and 100 percent committed to meddling in the lives of her children. All five of the Chen children were successful by any standards—doctors, lawyers, scientists—but that did not stop her from driving them and their spouses even further, and from shaping the futures of her nine grandchildren.

“I don’t use a chalkboard, I use a computer,” Emmett said, regretting it immediately.

“So, they don’t have computers in Hawaii? You got one in your office. I know, I saw it.”

“It takes a special computer,” Emmett explained, wanting to tell her to stay out of his office. “Let me speak to Carrollee,” Emmett said.

“When you coming home?” Grandma Chen demanded.

“Soon,” Emmett said. “Let me talk to Carrollee.”

Grandma Chen started to say something, but Carrollee interrupted, arguing briefly with her mother and then wresting the phone away.

“Grandma sends her best,” Carrollee said.

“Thank God you got the phone,” Emmett said.

Now Emmett pictured his pretty wife sitting on the same stool. Carrollee Puglisi was a short, pretty woman with a peculiar sense of style. Carrollee always coordinated what she wore, from shoes to clothes to hair bows and sunglasses. If she wore white, everything she wore was white. If she decided to wear tropical print clothes, her shirt and pants would have flowers, her shoes would complement, as would her hat, and there would be a fresh flower in her hair. Carrollee had a collection of watches in various colors and styles, so that even her watch would match. While she had a lot of clothes—two closets full—her taste was stylish, not expensive, and Emmett loved her for it, not in spite of it. Carrollee’s tastes also dictated what she purchased for their children, and they wore the outfits enthusiastically when younger, then stoically as they grew. Now in middle school, Emma was developing a style of her own, often clashing with Carrollee. Lee resisted the color coordination by mixing and not matching the clothes his mother purchased for him.

“Grandma loves you,” Carrollee said.

“Yeah, she loves the hell out of me,” Emmett said.

Carrollee laughed. Grandma Chen was well meaning but relentless. “How are things going?” Carrollee asked.

Carrollee knew Emmett was working for the Office of Security Science again. Both of them had worked for Nick Paulson in the past, and both had gone into the field, traveling to the past, and to the moon on one mission. Carrollee had a scar on her chest, where a Mayan priest had started to cut out her living heart, stopped by Emmett’s and John Roberts’s timely arrival. Because of that shared history, Carrollee also knew that Emmett had to be careful about what he shared on a public phone.

“Things are complicated,” Emmett said. “It would be easier if Nick were around to help.”

“Nick’s gone?” Carrollee asked, puzzled. Carrollee knew Nick had personally asked Emmett to come back and help with whatever problem he was having.

“Yeah, disappeared on me,” Emmett said.

Carrollee paused, frustrated with Emmett’s roundabout talk. “Like we did before?” Carrollee asked.

“Exactly.”

“I see,” Carrollee said. “You’re not going after him, are you? You promised.”

“John’s gone to get him, but I haven’t heard from him since,” Emmett said. “Elizabeth went too.”

“Elizabeth Hawthorne?” Carrollee asked. “How did she get mixed up in this?”

“Can’t say,” Emmett said. “You know how she is. Just like before, she kind of took things into her own hands.”

Carrollee was silent, and Emmett knew she was worrying through the implications of what he had told her. The planet had been devastated once by time disruption, and she and Emmett had helped avert an even bigger catastrophe.