Hybrids: An Indoraptor Story ✓

Hunter-Gatherer [Pt. 1]

There wasn't much left of Berkeley, California.

To both men, it looked as if an earthquake had leveled a quarter of the city. Small fires danced about, licking the toppled bricks walls and undersides of flipped cars still sizzling in defeat. To their flanks trickled livewire; sparks of yellow and blue crackled and popped with what little life remained within them. Ahead laid glass shards, blood, and broken frames in the street, scorching alive in the blazing heat of the desert. Police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances were everywhere, trying their hardest to repel the damages. And it worked to some extent. But, even from the safety of their pickup truck, what their four eyes told them was far from the real truth.

"Fifteen found dead and over a hundred still injured after what observers say to be a clash between two massive creatures, ended with disaster in the sleepy town of Berkeley, California," a static voiceover called through their radio. "The public are still looking for answers as to what caused this, but all fingers still point to the aftermath of the Lockwood incident two years prior-"

"Jesus," Jameson gasped as Click snapped the radio off. "It's like hell written all over. Do you think-"

"No," Click muttered, turning his vehicle to the untouched side of Berkley's damages to park. "This has INGEN written all over it. Predators don't just snap like this, and I should know. Come on."

Click went to leave the truck, slamming the door shut to go gather his things. But Jameson stayed put, his eyes drifting down to the burner phone hidden between his legs. He had been using it for the time away from Click, and only now did he get a response from his boss, courtesy of a little buzz. And, so, his thumb flicked the top frame up to see what had come.

~~ Where are you.

Jameson looked up, noticing Click not paying attention to him, and typed back.

~ Tommy Peters picked me up from the hospital.

~~ Active-Military. Indoraptor Trainer. Two Daughters. Deceased Wife. Employee of INGEN.

~ Yes.

~~ ...

"Hey!" Click called. "Whatcha doing?" Jameson swallowed quietly, nibbling at his fingers and looking upon the coming response.

~~ Where are you.

"Jesus-"

~ Berkeley.

"Jameson!" Click tapped on the door. "Any day now!"

"Okay! Okay," he growled, slowly pushing the door open, eyes still fixed to the screen. All he saw were three dots of a typing anonymous source behind the pixelated darkness.

~~ ...

He awaited an answer from the phone, but, just as Click rounded the passenger side of the truck, Jameson clicked off the device, and drew it away. Click frowned, pausing short of his friend in his most hesitant state.

"Texting?"

"Just, um... checking to see if my sister's okay," Jameson muttered, lifting his phone. "You know she, um... lives around here."

"Oh." Click blinked. "Okay? Didn't know you had one."

"Well, I don't like sharing my private life with people," he huffed, stepping from the truck and tucking his phone away to his back pocket. "If it's not connected to work, I won't disclose it."

"Right."

Jameson looked to him for a brief second, then tapped a finger upon his shoulder before brushing by to wander to the destruction. All Click could do was snort off his intuitions, tighten his denim jacket to the brim of his plaid t-shirt, and hurry after him.