I Used To Like Dinosaurs

Chapter Two: Velociraptors Freaking Suck

               Eric woke. It was dark, and the air was musty and damp.  He sat up, and immediately realized he had no idea where the heck he was. Then he saw the smooth, rounded edges of the water truck curving away from him, and the events of the previous day came crashing down on him. Tears streamed down his face and he curled up into a ball, his body shaking with sobs. He stuck his head between his knees and shuddered.

               The pity party was short. He figured he had two choices. He could lay down and die in the truck, or he could stay alive for as long as he could and hope someone came rescue him from the island. The island he was stranded on, alone, except for a bunch of carnivorous dinosaurs that had already killed Ben. His heart sped up, and his breathing came in short, quick, gasps. He forced himself to calm down, taking in and letting out deep and even breaths. Panicking wouldn't help.               

               He made a mental list of what he would need to survive Isla Sorna. Shelter - check. He needed food and water. And something to defend himself with. He surveyed the inside of the truck for anything he could use. He could barely see, so he opened the hatch to let in more light. There was dust. Some more dust. A small puddle of brackish water. More dust. Then he saw light glinting off something lying in the dust. Bens pocket knife! He'd held onto it yesterday, after Ben - after Ben . . .

                 Eric shut down that train of thought as fast he could. He picked up the knife and stuck it in his pocket. He needed something to distract him. Food. He was going to need to find food and water. He could focus on that.

              He stuck his head out of the hatch and eyed the surrounding jungle warily. When nothing lunged out of the trees and tried to bite his face off, he climbed out the rest of the way. He stood by the truck and looked around the clearing. He shivered. The jungle was seriously creepy in the early morning light. He wasn't going to risk eating any of the plants in the jungle. He wasn't sure which were safe to eat and which would kill him painfully if he ate them.

               He decided his best bet for food was Ingen's old compound. He remembered Malcolm's book saying something about it, but he couldn't remember what. His water truck must have come from there, though, which meant it was close.

         There was a small ridge pretty close to the truck, and Eric began to trek up it, thinking that he might be able to see the compound from the crest. By the time he reached the crown of the hill, he was sweating and panting heavily. The hill was steeper than he had originally thought. He was rewarded, though, when he spotted a low, squat, gray building in a small valley, ringed with trees. He had absolutely no idea what time it was, but the sun was higher in the sky than when he'd started out.

               Eric carefully picked his way down the slope toward the compound, wracking his brain for what else the book had said about the place. But that was forgotten after he walked through the doors of the main building. It was the scariest place he'd ever been in. The lighting was dim, and a weird gray color, slanting through windows covered in vines and creepers. The jungle had long since swallowed  up any traces of the humans who used to work there. A draft blew through the room he was in, and Eric shivered. It was considerably colder in the compound than in the jungle.

                He assumed he was in some kind of reception room, as there was a wide desk facing the door. There was also a phone sitting on it, which Eric found sort of funny. Who was gonna use it? Dinosaurs? He wandered down dark hallways for a while, until he found what he guessed  was a cafeteria for the employees. He found his way into the kitchen. He managed to find some canned beans and other stuff, and thankfully the expiration dates still seemed good. In a supply room, he managed to find a few lanterns and gas grenades. He found a box and loaded everything into it. But, naturally, on his way back to the reception room he managed to get himself lost.

                He wandered down empty hallways for who knows how long, until he stopped in a room to catch his breath. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye and looked up. He smiled for the first time since Ben died. He was in some kind of break room, there were chairs and tables scattered throughout the room. There were two vending machines, one filled with water bottles, the other with candy bars. There was just the problem of how to get the stuff out. He glanced around the room for inspiration. His eyes alighted on a rock abut the size of his head. He grabbed it and slammed it into the glass panel until it cracked, then broke. Then he did the same to the other one.

               He finished loading everything into the box, and turned to leave, but he heard a weird sound in the hallway. It was like a mix between a purr and a growl. Then Eric remembered what else the book had said about the compound and the area around it. It was raptor territory. He dove under a table just as the purr/growl noise stopped at the doorway. He looked out between the table legs and watched a pair of long reptilian legs walk slowly into the room. Each scaled foot ended in one long, hooked claw. The claws tapped slowly on the hard floor, making an ominous ticking noise. The thing clearly knew he was in there, but it hadn't found him yet. It was between him and the door. He was trapped in a room with a velociraptor. 

             He searched his pockets for a weapon, anything he could use. His fingers closed around the hilt of Bens pocketknife. He took it out and opened the six - inch blade, just as the raptor stopped at his table and let out a triumphant screech. Clever girl, he thought. Eric scrambled backwards, all rational thought gone except survive. The raptor jumped in front of him. It was a dull, muddy brown color, perfect for blending in with the dark jungle. He'd never have seen it if they had been outside. It screeched again. The sound made him want to curl up in a little ball on the floor. It lunged at him, but he managed to duck and swung at it clumsily with the knife. By sheer luck he managed to hit it on the upper arm. It was a shallow wound, and it wouldn't even slow the raptor down.

          The raptor looked surprised and sniffed at the wound, like it was shocked that prey would have the audacity to fight back. It snarled at him and returned the favor. Eric fell back, clutching three bleeding claw marks on his upper arm. They were much deeper than the ones he'd given the raptor. The raptor, sensing victory, had stopped advancing and simply stood in front of him, gazing at Eric unemotionally. Then it lifted it's head and screeched again, leaving its chest exposed. Eric saw his chance and took it. He lunged forward and stabbed the knife into the creatures chest, putting all his strength behind the blow. The raptor looked down at the knife embedded in his chest, then at Eric, confused. Then it crumpled to the ground, twitching.

            Eric looked down in disbelief. Was it . . . dead? Had he really killed it? He picked up the box and got ready to leave. But - he looked at the monster's killing claws. He bent down and cut one off. Maybe he could use it for something, like a knife. Or a souvenir, although he wasn't sure he'd want to remember this whole experience. He put the talon in the box, picked it up and walked out the door.

            He managed to make it back to the water truck without anymore mishaps, except for when he tripped over a root and dropped the box. He sat on the floor of the truck and drank a couple of the water bottles. Then he used another bottle to clean the three wounds on his arms, and tore strips from his jacket to bandage it. He wouldn't need a jacket in the hot, humid jungle. After he ate a few of the candy bars he organized the supplies he'd gotten from the compound. He could probably use the raptor claw for a weapon or something. It was pretty sharp. He counted all the things he'd managed to grab. He had twenty gas grenades, thirty lanterns, and enough food to last him a while. Hopefully someone would  rescue him before he ran out.

(AN: if anyone reads this . . . comments?