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Authors: Chris Hechtl

Second Chances (5 page)

BOOK: Second Chances
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John got the ire of Loni Chaney, a go-it-alone cowgirl. She was a short, fiercely proud and independent woman; he had to admire that. She had long black hair that fell a few inches below her shoulders and took pains to brush it out. She was stacked and dressed to the nines in jeans and a tied plaid shirt. She was a real cowgirl; one who claimed to have lived off the land in Texas and Colorado before she'd moved to Montana. She'd even been a hogger at one time. She also didn't like the looks from the single guys, John included. She snarled at them and went off to her gear.

She had very little, not even a car John realized. She'd lived in a rented trailer or in a pup tent out with the herd most of the time. John picked up that a few of the single guys and even a few married couples had offered to share with her, but she'd turned them down flat. He shook his head. He could see pride, even admire it to a degree, but turning down help was stupid.

A little while later he heard the dogs going at it again. He went out, expecting the woman. Instead he found a teen who had tried to slip past the dogs and got cornered. “What do you think you're doing?” John demanded.

“Call em off!” the teen said, eyes wide.

“What. Were. You. Doing?”

“Nothing man, honest!” John just stared at him as others came to look and see what was going on. “Okay, okay, I was looking for some hooch man!”

“Right, so, you are the thief. You've been stealing from everyone,” he said.

“Look man, it's no big deal!” the teen said, dropping his arms. The growl from Fergus had him jerk them up again though. “Um, the dog??” he demanded.

John crossed his arms, looking at the teen. “You're lucky it's him not me. If I'd caught you, I'd of shot you, not just bit your nuts off,” he said.

The kid paled and then gulped.

“Let him go,” the black haired woman snarled, coming over to him. “He got lost.”

“Right,” Eric drawled. “Lost. Sure,” he said. Others scoffed. He waved to John. John nodded and whistled. Fergus and the other dogs dropped to the ground. Slowly, carefully the teen moved away from the dogs. When he was out of range he bolted. The dogs rose to their feet to give chase but their chains stopped them.

“And now you know the other reason I keep them on a chain,” John said to the woman. He watched her glower at him and turned in a huff and left.

“I'll...I don't know what to do with him; I just don't,” a woman said. She bit her lip.

“Well, he's too old to spank obviously,” Eric said. That gained a gasp from the woman. Eric shrugged as she glared at him. “Hey, I'm just saying. And you don't want to know what the next step is if he gets in trouble. Things are very different here you know. He'd better clean up his act or he's out there,” he said, pointing to the outside. She gulped and then nodded.

“I'll...I'll talk to him,” she said in a rush and then left.

Eric nodded. He turned to the others. “I think the rest of you should do the same. We need to work together people, not steal from each other. We need to trust each other. We've been lucky so far, but hell...you all know it's only a matter of time before trouble strikes.”

“Maybe it won't!” a woman said. Eric just looked at her pityingly. She blushed and looked away.

He nodded. “All right, show’s over,” he said, clapping his hands. The group broke up after that.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

 

Eric's prediction came as a curse the next day. Their first encounter with an apex predator was a surprise. John heard a roar as he shut off his chain saw. He ignored it; it sounded at least a half mile away. He knew that was bad situational awareness, but he couldn't go dropping everything to chase sounds. He had to get work done before the weather shifted. The clouds were ominous; he had no idea if it would rain or not.

He'd been busy, first setting up his part of the compound, then working on the plans for the door, and then cutting down the local trees for wood and to get a better field of fire around the base. They needed wood for everything, especially some sort of door or other structure. He pulled out the file to sharpen the blade when the roar sounded off again, then a scream of terror. He looked around to see people fleeing in panic for the base. One guy fell, then another jumped over him and tripped, sprawling on top. They fought each other off in a panic, then literally crawled into the bushes nearby. John turned and climbed into the cab of his skip loader as he heard something coming closer along with a low guttural growl. He turned the engine over, praying it wouldn't balk.

The machine started with a puff of black smoke just as a Rex came out of the trees. He kicked the loader into gear, then narrowly missed running over Eric as he moved in to block the dinosaur's path.

The Rex turned on him, and the fight was on. “Oh hell,” John muttered. The Rex challenged the skip loader, bellowing and then moving into a wide circle. Two tons of angry flesh, teeth, feathers, and claws versus three tons of steel. The thing was smart. It circled, trying to get around the blade, but John tried to keep moving with it to keep it from getting an opening. “Go away big bird,” he growled. “You so don't want this,” he grunted.

It bent to bite at the tires, he kept the vehicle moving so teeth snapped off when it bit. It backed away, pawing and shaking it's now bloodied mouth. “Okay, so maybe you do,” John growled, realizing it was a life or death struggle.

“This thing isn't going to quit,” John grumbled. “Well, nether am I,” he growled, setting himself in for the battle.

It got inside his range again, around the blade to bite at the hydraulic arms. That didn't work, though it did rock the vehicle. It dragged its claws on the roof, making him wince; the sound was like nails on chalkboard. He saw a dinner-plate-sized eye narrow as it peered through the protective wire and glass around his cab. He didn't need it coming after him or a tooth cutting a hydraulic line. It was time to retreat he thought.

John backed up, then twisted the vehicle as the animal tried to back away. He rolled over the animal's foot, making it bellow in pain. It hobbled, now trying to get away. With his attacker on the ropes, John turned the tables becoming the aggressor. He built up speed then charged the animal as it roared at him. The Rex tried to jump aside, but its wounded left foot slowed it down enough for the blade to clip it just right. John hauled the wheel over sharply into the impact, using the power of the machine, he managed to use the vehicle to knock the animal off its feet and then crushed it.

“Just like a triceratops would do,” Eric said as he came over.

“Is it dead?” Ginger asked hysterically. Eric turned and gave her a thumbs-up. The base broke out into wild cheers.

John climbed out of the cab. “I feel like one big bruise. That's one bad ass Mike Tyson,” he said.

“Yeah,” Eric said, nodding. “Are there more?”

“I don't know,” John said slowly, looking around, now wary. That cut the cheers off. “I hope not. I know these things travel in packs but...”

“It could be...yeah, it's young. Male maybe?” Eric said. He grimaced as he looked the animal's remains over. “Like road kill.”

“One hell of a road runner to kill,” John said. “Come on, let's get some chains on it and drag it back to camp.”

“You're not planning to eat it are you?” Ginger demanded, coming over to them.

John and Eric looked at her. Eric then looked at John. He shrugged. “Why the hell not?” he asked. “He was trying to eat me!”

“Yeah but still...”

“Think of the drum sticks. This guy's all dark meat. I bet he's greasy, but hell, I'm hungry enough not to care. Now, if someone can make enough barbeque sauce, those wings would have me in heaven,” John said. Eric snorted as they got to work.

They heard muffled cries in a tree as they towed the animal to the base. Eric looked up as did others. They looked around until they spotted a figure in a tree. “Hey, you can come down!”

“I can't!” the woman said, crying.

“Okay, so...” Eric frowned. “Now what?”

“Let's get this thing taken care of. Then we'll come back for her,” John suggested. Eric frowned. “Hey, it worked for my sister. Mom told her we were leaving for the mall, and she bolted out of the tree like a gunshot,” John said. Eric snorted.

“Did we lose anyone?” John finally asked. Carlene frowned. Eric turned, looking about. He cocked his head to Ross. She looked up and held up a finger, then came over.

“What?” Ross asked.

“Head count?”

“We've got one missing, the Bitch from Montana,” Ross said with a shrug. “Some are saying it's good riddance,” she said.

“She's alive; she's in a tree,” Eric said. He looked over to Carlene. “Think you can talk her down?”

“Me?” Carlene demanded, waving a hand to the crew of people trying to cut up the dead dino. “I've got a lot of cooking to oversee you know!” She growled, hands on her hips.

“Okay, okay, I'll do it,” Eric said. He waved Ross over with him to act as his guard.

John helped with the slaughter, using the loader's arm to lift the beast and nudge it over. He kept looking out though, like a lot of people he was worried about another attack.

“Why don't they just leave her?” Norma asked, sounding disgusted. “She won't come down.”

“She's scared.”

“Hell, we all were. Well, most of us,” Norma said, patting John on the shoulder. He winced at the smell of blood on his shoulder. “Oops, sorry, my bad,” she mumbled.

John shook his head. He looked over to Eric and Ross who were trying to talk the woman down. She hadn't budged.

Eventually he came back with the skip loader. Eric climbed into the bucket and John raised it up to her level. She sniffled, hugging the tree until Eric gently helped her to let go. “Get me down,” she snarled tightly.

“Yes princess,” John muttered, carefully lowering the bucket. She climbed out and stormed off, shaking off Ross's helping hands to hold herself. She ducked her head as she passed everyone.

“Well that's a fine thank you,” Ross mocked, shaking her head. “See if I lend you a hand again Ice Princess,” she said, pitching her voice so others could hear.

John cut the engine and climbed out of the cab. He looked over to Eric. Eric shrugged. “What can I say, she's hard headed,” Eric said, dusting his hands off. “She's determined to do things on her own, and I bet you she just hates being thought of as a damsel in distress,” he said as they walked back into camp.

“I could have gotten down on my own,” the woman snarled, cleaning herself up. She was a bit shaky, but she appeared to be getting over it fast it.

At first her ire amused the others, but when she didn't stop she got the cold shoulder. John noted it, and the fleeting hurt look she had. She bit her lip, then caught him looking and her face went cold. He nodded politely to her. She turned in a huff. He shrugged and went back to check the perimeter. When he, Bull, and Ross were sure everything was okay they returned to the slaughter. Already flies were coming in, a great cloud of the nasty pests. People were waving their arms trying in vain to shoo them off.

In camp they shook their head as the group of people were already setting into who got what of the choice meats. A few people were already arguing over thighs or other meats.

“Did you have to run over it?” a guy demanded. It took John a moment to recognize him as Adam, Trisha's husband.

“Hell yes. One less to worry about in the bush.”

“Not that, I mean...ugh.” Adam waved a distressed hand and made a face. “It's gruel! I'm not eating...” he swallowed suddenly, looking a bit green.

“Wash it off. A little dirt never hurt nobody,” Eric said. “Road kill or gunshot, it doesn't matter,” Eric said, putting authority into his voice. “Protein's protein. We need all we can get.”

“Hell, I'm the one that killed it,” John grumbled. He made certain the dogs got the offal and bones. He got a couple steaks out of it; the rest of the animal went to the group or was smoked.

“That should feed everyone for a couple days,” Ginger said, grinning.

“One way to feed people, get dinner to come to you,” Eric said. John nodded. He noted Loni got her plate then took off in a huff.

 

Chapter 3

 

“One thing that bugs me about that T. rex...,” Eric said the next morning before breakfast. “It's not much like Jurassic park. I mean, it looked like a cross between a Rex, a vulture, and well, a chicken,” he said, shaking his head.

“It's the feathers,” John said. “Besides, Hollywood will rot your brain.” That got a chuckle from Eric.

“Yeah, I know. And I noticed you didn't stick around to pluck it,” the blond teased.

John spread his hands. “Hey, I killed it remember? I had to check my machine and equipment over anyway. I had to make sure the damn thing didn't breech a line. Hydraulic fluid is as precious as gold here,” he said. Eric nodded.

“All good?” Carlene asked. John nodded. She exhaled noisily. “Well, that's good,” she said, sitting on her husband's lap. She smiled a challenge up to him, but he merely wrapped his arms around her. They stared into the morning fire as the Rex meat heated. “Breakfast of champions,” Carlene murmured.

Eric huffed, then chuckled. “What?” John asked.

BOOK: Second Chances
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