with angry red streaks beneath its surface.
It raised its head, and a guttural, groaning-creaking sound emanated from its esophagus.
“Look out!” one of the crewman called, but it was too late.
Marcus, still directing his fury and full attention at Xander, suddenly felt his hand drop off the dinosaur's skin and into an open space. He thought someone had wheeled the platform away from him so that he couldn't touch the specimen anymore. He opened his mouth to yell back at them, the first words meant to be, What the fuck —?
Instead, what came out was a blood curdling scream that he was sure came from someone else, not him. No way such a primal sound could come from his throat.
He felt a terrible crushing sensation—more like his wrist was in a vice than being sliced by sharp objects—and was dragged toward the table for a second. Then, as quickly as it started, the sensation stopped. He no longer felt the pain. He felt nothing.
Marcus turned back to look at the dinosaur in time to see its head flopping over to the other side. His mind registered the open, red and black eye, and then he noticed that he was missing his left hand.
A stream of blood geysered from his open wrist.
Then the giant lizard's head swung back in his direction again, jaws snapping (and was that his chewed up arm lodged back in its throat?), and he felt hands on him pulling him roughly backwards. He toppled to the floor as all hell broke loose, the men leaving him while they went to tighten the straps on the Tyrannosaur's body. Those restraints weren't meant to contain a live animal, though, just to hold the corpse in place, and one of the ones on the upper body snapped as the T. rex whipped its head to and fro, faster now.
Alex was right , Marcus thought, as he dimly heard Xander shouting in an absolute frenzy, “Tranquilizer!”
The paleontologist forced himself to tip his head up while his vision faded around the corners. He didn't have the energy to maintain the position and he slumped back to the deck, but not before seeing, between the weird spots dancing across his retinas, Xander loading giant syringe-like ammo into what looked like a spear-gun and grinning like a Cheshire cat.
The last thing he heard before passing out was a sound not heard on Earth for millions of years—the vocalization of a Tyrannosaurus rex , like a wailing banshee, piercing the night.
14.
Aboard Oil Tanker Hammond-1, En route to Chile
In the infirmary, Veronica and Alex both looked up at the sound. Some kind of screeching noise from another part of the ship.
“What the hell is that?” they both asked almost in unison.
“No idea,” Alex whispered. “Except… I’ve got a bad feeling.”
Veronica stared back at the bag of splints for a moment. “Okay, let’s move, and listen…I can't tell you exactly who I work for, but you're right. I'm not a doctor. I was placed on this ship by the people I work for—powerful people—who are investigating DeKirk for some serious criminal activity.”
Alex digested that for a moment. “My father was just fired unexpectedly for no reason. Yeah, yeah, I'm sure having me around wasn't exactly a plus for him after the stunt I pulled, but it wasn't that. He said DeKirk wants everyone who knows anything about the dinosaurs, taken from Antarctica.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “We saw soldiers down there deliberately killed for no apparent reason! That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence that he’ll be happy with a simple non-disclosure agreement.”
“That would be a concern of mine too,” Veronica admitted. “Watch your back, always.”
Alex shook his head. “What's he really up to with all this dinosaur shit?”
Veronica shrugged. “I don't know, not exactly, but I've been following him for a long time—many years—and believe me, whatever it is, he never does anything small-time. DeKirk is involved in all sorts of illegitimate business practices and shady dealings.
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia