Chapter One

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Marcus gunned the engine of his mother’s minivan, and pulled up the hill into the cemetery across from the Cromaine Library. He automatically checked all of the windows to see if they had been spotted before he reached behind the passenger’s seat for the shotgun.

He glanced into the rear view mirror, where he could see concern look on his six-year-old daughter’s face. “Please be careful, Daddy,” Tracey urged, her fingers already working at the latches on her carseat.

“I will honey,” Marcus said. “I’m going to look around for a little bit, and then I’ll let you know when its safe to come out, okay?”

“Okay.”

Marcus gripped the door handle, and pulled out to release the door. They had visited his wife’s grave inside the Hartland Township Cemetery every month for nearly six months, and had only been attacked once. But, for Marcus, once was enough.

He angled away from the van as he walked, scanning his surroundings with his shotgun as he moved. He checked the backs of the widest gravestones, inside the shrubs that lined the front of the fence that surrounded the cemetery, and both ends of Wright Avenue, which ran through the center of the Hartland Village.

He had gone as far as he dared, but could still see Tracey watching him from the backseat of the van. There seemed to be nothing around them that would hurt them.

Marcus hurried back to the van, and slid the side door open. “Okay, let’s go talk to Mommy.”

Tracey stepped down from the van, and reached up towards Marcus, a signal that she wanted him to hold her hand. He offered his hand, and she gripped it, the claws on her fingers pressing into his skin only slightly. I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as she looks, Marcus thought to himself. But, then again, I didn’t grow up in a world quite like this.

They walked together across the driveway, then into a patch of grass that lead down a slope into the newest part of the cemetery. Marcus noted the graves which were still fresh, and still a few more that had been added since last month’s visit. Despite all that had happened, people were still following their traditions when a loved one died. Marcus remembered back to his wife’s burial, and wondered quietly if that would be the last thing that he would do that felt “normal.”

Tina Armstrong’s grave marker sat towards the edge of the new section of the cemetery, along the row that was closest to the tree line. At the time, Marcus had picked that spot both because it was available and it seemed pretty with the pine trees as a backdrop. But, after almost a year of surviving in a new world populated by dinos, this location seemed unbearably inconvenient.

Marcus stopped in front of the gravestone, and kneeled down. Tracey let go of his hand, and walked gingerly around the grave like her father had taught her, then wrapped her arms as far around the grave marker as she could. He could see a tear roll down her cheek. “We miss you mommy,” she whispered. “I love you.” Then, she let out a whimper, and shot a look towards her father.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked.

“I...I left the flower in the van,” she said. “I was going to put it on Mommy’s grave.”

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said, pausing to wipe a tear from his cheek. “We can’t take the time to get it, and then bring it back.”

“Next time?” Tracey asked.

“Yes.”

“But, daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Next time, can I bring two flowers?”

Dinopocalypse: "Two Flowers"Where stories live. Discover now