A Shard of Amber

Part 4

I stand next to dad as we stare at the raptor paddock. "Dr. Grant! Y/n!" John calls out to us as he and the rest of our party speed over to us. "As I was saying, we've laid on lunch for you before you set out into the park, our gourmet chef Alejandro--" 

Dad cuts John off. "What're they doing?" We watch as a cow is loaded into a crane of sorts and hoisted into the sky. It really is quite a strange sight. 

"Oh, feeding them." John states simply before returning to the topic of our lunch, "Alejandro is preparing a delightful menu for us: Chilean sea bass, I believe. Shall we?" 

No one responds as we all walk up to the paddock and onto a viewing area as the cow is lowered into the densely forested enclosure. "Maybe the child shouldn't see this," Donald speaks up from the back after we all gather around the ledge. 

I look at the lawyer to see him clutching his bag tightly in fear. My brows furrow in confusion. "Actually, I believe it is you we should be worried about. Your knuckles are turning white with how tightly you're gripping your bag. And the look on your face suggests you will piss your pants within a moment's notice." I observe. 

Donald is silent as I smirk and turn back to look over the ledge. The foliage moves as the raptors "hunt". The cow bellows in fear as the raptors hiss. The animal bellows in pain before it falls silent and the only sounds are that of the raptors' hungry calls and flesh ripping apart. The chains of the crane rattle as the raptors tear into their meal, literally. 

Eventually, the noises die down to only a few hisses here and there.  I breathe heavily. Though I didn't witness much, what I heard was enough to make a grown man weak at the knees. 

"They should all be destroyed." A voice states. 

We all turn to see a man approaching wearing a large hat the same color as the rest of his outfit. John laughs and approaches the man. "Robert, Robert Muldoon, my game warden from Kenya. A bit of an alarmist, I'm afraid, but knows more about raptors than anyone." 

Dad walks over and shakes Robert's hand with a smile. "What's their metabolism, what's their growth rate?" My father asks.

"They're lethal at eight months. And I do mean lethal. I've hunted most things that can hunt you, but the way these things move..." Robert gestures over his shoulder at the paddock. 

I walk over to my father's side. "Are they fast for a biped?" I ask. 

Robert nods "Cheetah speed. 'bout fifty or sixty miles per hour if they ever got out in the open -- and they're astonishing jumpers." 

"Yes, yes, yes, that's why we're taking extreme precautions." John says before turning to Ellie, "The ah, viewing area under here--" I tune out John's voice and turn to Robert. 

"Do they show intelligence?" I ask excitedly. 

"They're extremely intelligent. Even problem-solving intelligence. Especially The Big One. We bred eight originally, but when she came in, she took over the pride and killed all but two of the others. That one, when she looks at you, you can see she's working things out. That's why we have to feed them like this. She had them all attacking the fences when the feeders came." Robert explains.

"The fences are electrified right?" Ellie asks as she tunes into our conversation.

Robert looks over at Ellie, "That's right, but they never attack the same place twice." He looks between John and Ian, "They were testing the fences for weaknesses systematically. They remember..." Robert looks between me and my father. 

Right as he finishes his grueling tale the crane machine starts up again. We all look over to see the stretcher being lifted out of the paddock. Some of the chains are broken and the pipes bent. The blue tarp that once held the cow dangles by threads to the frame. Only scraps of the fabric remain. Some of the pieces are drenched in blood, looking like torn muscle. A nervous feeling settles in my stomach.