(de)extinction (Owen Grady/OC)

1: Retrograde

"There exists a tipping point between gods and monsters." – Shitty Horoscopes Book VII: Magick

July 2013, two-and-a-half years before the Second Isla Nublar Incident

Twenty-four year-old Cady Starc could feel the sweat rolling down between her shoulder blades, slithering slowly enough that she had to roll her shoulders in a bit of a shutter at the sensation. Under the clear, cloudless Costa Rican sky, the sun beat down unmercifully on her, and even with her Clubmaster sunglasses everything seemed too bright. It was humid and uncomfortable, a dramatic change from the wet Washington state climate she'd left behind a few hours ago. She couldn't find reprieve in the air-condition sections of the ferry either, not with the sections being overcrowded and loud with children and adults alike. Cady would suffer through the heat then sitting for two hours elbow-to-spleen with strangers and trying to control the urge to throttle. The situation wasn't helped with what she'd chosen to wear either: a unique cross between 'interview casual,' and 'poor-graduate student' that left her standing head to foot in black, her long hair pulled back in a slicked ponytail.

Luckily though, the island was close. Closer than it had been twenty minutes ago when Cady had been willing the boat to move faster, as if she'd just teleport her way into the employment office (did they even have an employment office? Somehow she doubted it was like walking into Target). Instead, she was left to bounce on the balls of her feet; hands gripping the railing as the ferry slowly crawled its way into port, and the crews began the docking routine. It was nearly fifteen minutes before she stepped off the ferry and onto the dock, surging forward with the crowd towards the park as Cady looked for the person who was meant to meet her. It only took a quick sweep of the area to find a woman holding a tablet with her name—CADY STARC—looking rather bored, and dressed in a much nicer fashion.

"That's me," Cady called as she all but stumbled to a stop. "I'm Cady Starc."

"Lovely," the woman answered in a soft British accent, sliding the tablet away in a Michael Kors bag. "I'm Zara Young, Miss Dearing's personal assistant. I hope your trip went smoothly?"

The question was rhetorical, and Cady doubted Jurassic World really wanted her to fill out a comment card. Instead she just nodded, hand gripping the strap of her bag anxiously as people all but sprinted past them on the dock towards the man-eating dinosaurs. Awesome.

"Great, then if you'll follow me we'll be on our way."

And with those words, Cady Starc was walking into the belly of the beast.

God, Dad's gonna to kill me.

. . .

They didn't take the monorail like Cady had been expecting. In fact, there were no bells and whistles pulled out for her, instead Zara showed her to a Mercedes coupe and just...drove her. The air conditioning was a godsend, cooling Cady off to the point where she wished she had a jacket. The ride was quick and, apart from Zara pointing out some interesting things, mostly silent, which really was fine with Cady who was still trying to figure out why she had even bothered to come to the island at all. What did she know about dinosaurs except what the Land Before Time taught her at age eight? The answer, of course, was nothing. Dinosaurs, and long extinct creatures, weren't exactly her thing, but her mentor had pressed—no, begged—her to go, so she caved.

Plus, who was she to turn down a fully comped trip?

"As soon as we arrive to Control," Zara explained as she pulled the Mercedes into a well-disguised parking lot. "There are a few legal documents you'll need to read and agree to before meeting with Miss Dearing and Dr. Wu."