Danger: Dinosaurs!

Chapter 5 Escape Plans

“Well...” Owen wiped a hand over his face, cutting himself short. He glanced uneasily over the windshield. The truck had already begun to move out of the clearing, and the stegosaurs studied the area with dull, unintelligent eyes, seeking a new prey.

Arthur’s hands were trembling, but he climbed out of the jeep in spite of his fear, walking to the front and lifting the hood quickly. He looked over his shoulder at the mountainous beasts and then ducked his head over the engine.

Chuck was beside him instantly. He’d taken apart his own hot rod so many times that he knew engines the way he knew his own name. He’d never tinkered with a jeep, though, and he’d never had a herd of dinosaurs looking over his shoulder while he worked.

“What is it?” Arthur asked. There was concern in his voice, but the panic was gone now.

“I think the plugs are wet. Driving through all that wet shrubbery probably did it. We’ll need a rag.”

Arthur didn’t hesitate a moment. He seized his shirt at the top and ripped it over his head. He pushed it off his arms and handed it to Chuck. “Hurry,” he said simply.

Chuck glanced at the stegosaurs. They were beginning to move again, slowly, just the way they had before. They moved toward the jeep, their awkward gait looking almost comical.

Chuck took the T-shirt and began drying the plugs. “Get back in the jeep,” he said. “Start her up. We haven’t got time to waste.”

Arthur ran around the side and hopped in behind the wheel. He stepped on the starter.

Nothing.

“Keep trying!” Chuck shouted. He wiped at the spark plugs frantically, drying them carefully, soaking up the water that clung to the engine, too.

Arthur tried again. There was a faint cough, a sputter and the exasperating, wailing whine again.

The stegosaurs were gaining speed. The earth began to shake as they swung around toward the jeep, great clods of mud and greenery bursting into the air beneath their hoofs.

Chuck ran to the other side of the jeep, tossing open the hood and starting on the spark plugs there. Arthur tried the starter again. The sound was lost in the overwhelming thunder of the approaching reptiles. There was another timid cough, a sputter, and Chuck saw the fan belt whirl as the engine caught. He leaped onto the fender, the hood still open, and shouted, “Let ‘er rip!”

Arthur backed the jeep in a wide, screaming curve as the stegosaurs closed the distance. He turned the wheel sharply and jammed his foot against the accelerator. The jeep jerked forward like a bullet from a pistol, narrowly missing a cycad, almost knocking Chuck loose from his precarious perch on the fender.

The stegosaurs trampled past in a cloud of mud, ferns and flying leaves. The jeep bounced as the armored tons of flesh shook the ground. There was a whirl of gray and green and agitated brown. Suddenly the stegosaurs were gone and the jeep was scrambling across the clearing like a frightened rabbit, Chuck clinging to the fender for dear life.

Arthur stopped the jeep for a moment while Chuck leaped to the ground and onto the seat in one quick motion. The jeep lurched forward again. Behind them, the stegosaurs wheeled for another charge. The truck had stopped at the edge of the clearing, and Chuck could see Masterson and Gardel leaning over the tailgate, firing at the animals behind the jeep.

When the jeep got closer, the truck started moving again, with rifle fire erupting in sharp, even cracks from the tailgate and small blossoms of yellow sprouting from the hot barrels.

Arthur kept his big, brown hands firmly on the wheel as he followed the truck around the clearing and through the ferns. The noise of the stegosaurs was growing fainter, and Chuck knew they would soon outdistance the lumbering beasts.

Arthur turned to him then and said softly, “Sometimes, life gets mighty hard to live. Sometimes. But it’s good to be alive anyway.” There was gratitude in his deep brown eyes and a serious expression on his strong features.

Chuck didn’t say anything. He was remembering how Arthur had unhesitatingly jumped out of the jeep and thrown open the hood. He was remembering, too, the way the stegosaurs had looked as they massed for a charge. A shudder worked its way through his body.

“It’s all over,” Owen said quietly. “For now, anyway.”

Chuck looked back over his shoulder. Far in the distance, beyond the herd of stegosaurs, he saw two sharply pointed white rocks jutting up against the sky. The rocks were large, like two oversized mounds of vanilla custard plopped down on a green plate. They sat there majestically, placid against the mild blue sky. Chuck looked at them hard, remembering every detail of them. He knew that the rendezvous site was near those towering rocks and he didn’t want to forget that.

The stegosaurs had stopped running and were already intent on nibbling at the foliage again. It was almost as if their small brains could cope with only one problem at a time. The only problem that confronted them at the moment was their hunger. They looked almost docile as they stood with their heads bent, plucking at the leaves.

They’re real, Chuck thought. Really real.

Up to this point, they had been creatures of the imagination. They weren’t any longer. They were as real as cats or dogs, as real as anything Chuck had ever known. The pictures in the books had come alive for him at last. The word “stegosaur” would never again be simply a word. Whenever he saw it, he would remember the herd in flight, remember the sound of their hoofs, remember with horror the first terrifying scream when one of Masterson’s bullets had found a mark.

And there were others, wallowing in the inland lakes, feeding on the plants, chewing the smaller animals to shreds. Everywhere around them, a universe of reptiles, a society of lumbering beasts.

Where, he wondered.

And when?

Would Allosaurus suddenly rush from the forest, his giant jaws snapping, his claws bared?

How many reptiles watched from the depths of their primitive shelters, their flat eyes following the slow progress of the two vehicles?

The thought was a little frightening. Chuck suddenly wished he were back home, in his own time, in his own room, with only his books to remind him of Jurassic times.

One week. If everything went well, they’d be home in one week. If everything went well. But if Masterson insisted on his foolish plans, if he continued to shoot at every reptile he saw... Chuck didn’t want to think about it.

The land was sparsely vegetated now, leveling off into beds of limestone and shale. Several ferns dotted the rocks, but these were few and far between. It was like leaving a thick living-room rug and walking out to the sidewalk. The going was easier, and the truck picked up speed, its tires rolling easily over the rock beds. Arthur kept the jeep about fifty feet behind the truck. He hadn’t said anything for a long time. He kept his eyes on the truck’s tailgate, watching Masterson and Gardel. Both men spoke animatedly, pointing to animals that appeared briefly in the distance.

The truck swung around in a wide arc, and a large lake came into view, shimmering blue in the bright light of the afternoon sun. The truck stopped, and Masterson dropped to the ground and waved at the jeep. Arthur stepped on the gas pedal, bringing the jeep up alongside the truck.

Masterson was smiling. “Quite a tussle back there, eh, Spencer?”

Owen didn’t answer.

“What’s the matter, Spencer? Angry about something?”

“You almost got us all killed,” Chuck blurted.

“We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

“Through no fault of yours,” Owen spoke up.

“Come on,” Masterson said cheerfully. “Forget about it, will you? This can be fun for all of us.”

“Sure,” Owen said dully. “Loads of good, clean fun.”

Masterson waved his arm at the lake. “How’s this for a camp site, Spencer?”

“Are you really asking my advice or just telling me you plan to camp here?”

“Come on, Spencer,” Masterson said again. “No need to be surly about this. I really want your advice.”

“My advice is to turn the truck around and head back for the rendezvous site. Once we get there, my advice is to stick close to the vehicles for the next week. That’s my advice.”

“Your advice isn’t very good,” Masterson said dryly. “Forgive me for asking.” He turned on his heel and shouted, “Brock, break out the supplies. We’re camping here for the night!”

They watched Pete climb out of the truck and walk around to the tailgate. Together with Gardel, he began unloading tents, cooking utensils, cartons of food. Gardel moved quickly, like a dark shadow that flitted in the afternoon sun.

“I’d better go help,” Arthur said. He was sliding off the seat of the jeep when Masterson turned and began walking toward them. He stopped alongside the jeep as Arthur swung out from behind the wheel.

“Arthur,” he said softly.

“Yes, Mr. Masterson?”

Chuck felt every muscle in his body tense. There was a strange look on Masterson’s face, a tight smile accompanied by a glitter in his brown eyes.

“How about getting over to the truck and lending a hand?” he asked.

“I was just headed...”

“Never mind what you were just about to do. Get over to the truck.” Masterson’s voice was ugly.

“Sure,” Arthur said dully. He dropped to the ground and began walking toward the truck. He had draped his soiled shirt over his shoulders, and his muscles rippled in the sunlight as he walked, his shoulders broad under the thin material.

Masterson watched him go, and then turned to Owen and Chuck. There was a smile on his face.

“There was no need for that,” Owen said.

“I pay a man to work,” Masterson answered, “and I expect work.”

“We disagree about a lot of things, Mr. Masterson,” Chuck said.

Masterson shrugged. “Don’t misunderstand me. Arthur’s a good worker. One of the best I’ve ever had. But...”

“Sure,” Owen said.

Masterson looked at Owen’s face. Then his eyes flicked to Chuck’s. He found no friendliness there. Chuck watched a puzzled frown cross Masterson’s features and he realized again that the big man simply did not understand.

Masterson shrugged again and made a slight shaking motion with his head. “Well,” he said, “I hope you two snap out of your little peeves. It’ll make things a lot more pleasant.”

He turned without saying another word, heading back for the truck. Pete had already started a fire, and a pot of coffee was brewing on it.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Owen said.

Chuck nodded, still thinking of Masterson, wondering what went on in the man’s mind.

“If we can get back to the rendezvous site, we may be able to get word to the authorities.”

“Shouldn’t they already know what happened, Owen?”

Owen shook his head. “I don’t see how. The Time Slip is fully automatic. They won’t be picking us up for a week. They’ve no way of knowing what Masterson has done.”

“But...” Chuck paused, suddenly aware that they were both whispering. “If we can’t get back for a week, how are we going to contact the authorities?”

“I figure there are plenty of government-sponsored scientists roaming the Jurassic period,” Owen explained. “Maybe some of them are due for pickup at about this time. If we can catch them at the rendezvous site, we can give them a message to take back.”

Chuck shook his head dubiously. “Sounds like a long gamble to me. After all, you don’t know for sure that anyone is scheduled for pickup right now.”

“I realize that. But it’s a chance.”

“Yeah,” Chuck said listlessly. “It’s a chance.”

“Maybe we can get away when it’s dark,” Owen said. “Masterson certainly doesn’t expect us to take off.”

Chuck glanced up quickly. “Speak of the devil.”

Masterson was walking toward the jeep. He stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Unless you two are on a diet, Pete will have some grub rustled up in a little while,” he said.

“Thanks,” Owen said.

“You know, Spencer, I’ve been thinking over what you said. Maybe you’re right. It is dangerous out here.”

“Then you’ll turn back?” Owen asked, a spark of hopefulness in his eyes.

“Well... no. But Gardel and I have decided to take turns at guard duty tonight.” He paused and smiled. “Just to make sure nothing gets into the camp, you understand.”

Owen’s face fell. “Sure. I understand.”

“And, of course,” Masterson went on, “we wouldn’t want anything to leave the camp, either.”

“Of course,” Owen said dryly. He exchanged glances with Chuck, and there was a defeated bitterness in his eyes.

“You might come over for a snack whenever you’re ready,” Masterson said agreeably. “I’d like you by the fire, anyway, before it gets dark.” He paused and the smile grew larger on his face. “I wouldn’t want any animals to carry you off.”