Fractured Luck // Owen Grady

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Before

For fifteen minutes, we trekked through dinosaur forest, not encountering a single dinosaur, nor the boys.

The single positive about the long walk led by Claire was how uncomfortable Owen and I were making her with our overly intentional flirting.

As an example, this gem by Owen:

"Lauren, do you have a map?"

"Obviously she doesn't," Claire responded for me.

"Well, before you interrupted it, I was a going to finish by saying I kept getting lost in her eyes."

Not a long time after, our walk was stopped by us crossing paths with the Old Command Center.

"The garage door is open," I observed, "Dinosaurs can't open doors. So, I think it's safe to say your boys have been through there."

"Owen, take the lead," Claire ordered.

"Excuse me?" Owen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am in charge--"

"I remember you taking an oath, saying you'd listen to us out here," I recalled.

Rolling her eyes, Claire grumbled, "It was hardly an oath."

"Just because I'm a gentleman," Owen decided.

"Have fun, don't die," I chimed, giving him a pat on the back.

Taking careful and quiet steps through the grass, Owen disappeared into the garage.

Moments later, he peaked around the corner, the gun in his hand replaced with a jacket.

"One of theirs?" he asked.

"Yes. Oh, yes," Claire said in relief, rushing to the garage to grab it, "It's still damp. That means they couldn't have left too long ago, right?"

"You're learning," I praised, "Now, to grab a chance at joining the Navajo, tell me where their tracks lead."

Claire followed my outstretched finger to the flattened grass outside of the garage.

"That road leads straight back to the park," she said.

"The Navajo are looking over your resume right now," I said. Running my hand along the rusted jeep, I wondered, "How did they get one of these things started? These cars haven't been used in around twenty years."

"Twenty two," Claire corrected under her breath.

Sensing my frustration, Owen handed me his gun to hold. I set it upright against the door of the driver's seat.

"What are you doing?" Claire asked.

Fumbling to raise the car roof, Owen said, "Checking the eng--"

A heavy footstep shook the ground under our fest. Followed by an intense clashing of leaves, Claire clung to my arm.

Eyes on the roof, Owen held his hand out, ushering us behind him.

I took Claire's hand and placed it in his. Pushing down on their shoulders, I had them squat in front of the jeep.

With no extra room for myself, and no time to seek a hiding place, I crouched in the doorway of the attached building.

I aimed at the entrance to the garage with my tranquilizer gun, praying Owen could keep Claire silent long enough for the Indominus to pass.

Checking for space, the Indominus crouched to eye level with the garage, scouting for obvious prey. Coming up short, her snout was abruptly shoved into the garage.

I aimed at her forehead, the general spot of her brain. My finger hovered over the trigger, for nothing except to psych myself into thinking I had protection against her.

With the jeep occupying half of the remaining space, her face wasn't able to fit completely. Her eye line ended just before the hood of the jeep, keeping Claire and Owen out of her view.

Using her jaw, the Indominus nudged the jeep, giving it a slight shake.

Owen's eyes snapped to mine, in fear of it being his end. I held our eye contact, staring sternly back at him.

As long as Owen was under my watch, I wasn't going to allow him to die. There were many heroic ways he deserved to go out; being eaten alive wasn't one of them.

Air rapidly blew in and out of the Indominus' nostrils, her last resort to search for food.

The Indominus huffed out a breath, then drew her face from the garage.

Watching me intently, Claire and Owen waited for my signal. I waited a moment, for the ground to shake, before I nodded.

Wary about the click her shoes made, Claire stayed on her knees and started to crawl across the floor to me.

Owen swept his gun from the side of the jeep swiftly, walking on the balls of his shoes to hide the sound of his steps.

In the wake of a dinosaur foot crashing through the roof in the garage, screams erupted from Claire and I.

Coming to my senses faster, I yanked Claire to her feet. Hands interlocked, she led me through the building, remembering where the exit was.

Spotting the already opened front doors, Owen took the lead by leaping over the skeleton of a dinosaur head.

He came to a stop at the end of the stairs, hand out to help the high heeled woman.

Ignoring Owen, Claire wiggled her hand from mine and leaped from the top stair, not bothering to attempt them.

Sprinting after her, I looked back at Owen, grinning, "Keep up, Grady! You're slacking!"