the way back out into the valley. Freedom. He pulled off his respirator. The air was almost painfully fresh after the atmosphere in the complex. Now, if he could only get away from this mad monster. . . .
Suddenly the Z. rex stopped dead, jarring Adam’s bones. It cocked its massive, blackened head to one side.
“What . . . what is it?” Adam asked nervously.
The monster’s only answer was to dump him on the ground and tread stealthily toward the exit, as if advancing on something invisible to Adam’s eyes. Carefully, he crouched down, sniffed the air, then pulled away a loose tangle of gorse from beside the cave exit.
Adam crept up behind the dinosaur, wondering if he dared risk squeezing past and escaping into the park. If he could only find Bateman, then maybe—
The beast gave a growl of warning. There was no mistaking the message—“keep back.” And as Adam peered past his captor’s enormous leg, he realized why.
A digital clock face glowed cold blue from the shadows. It was fixed in place with wires on top of a small white bundle.
“A bomb?” Adam breathed, the words choking in his windpipe. A big one too, if it’s meant to wipe out a dinosaur. “We’ve got to get out of here.” He tried to speak in a low, firm voice, the way he’d seen people on TV talking to wild dogs, but to his own ears his words sounded shrill and feeble. “Look, if you can really understand, at least let me get out of here—”
With an impatient roar, the Z. rex used his tail to push Adam away, back down the tunnel toward the lab. Adam hesitated. Run back to the lab, he thought. Hide under a desk. Hope the blast kills that thing, then you can get away .
But as he was about to go, the massive reptile gave a hiss of satisfaction, turned and took a step toward him, flexing its claws. In one hand it was holding the bomb.
“No!” Adam staggered back, came up sharp against the rock wall. “Don’t bring it inside!”
Ignoring him, the creature came closer.
“Outside!” Adam yelled. “Throw it outside, quick, it’s going to—”
Then he saw that the clock face wasn’t blinking. The countdown had stopped.
Adam clutched his chest and sank down against the wall. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Bateman must have mucked up when he set it.”
There was a contemptuous look in the cold, black eyes. “Not man,” the dinosaur ground out in that deep, raw-throated rasp. “Zed.”
“You?” Adam looked at him uncertainly. He thinks he defused it .
Zed placed the bomb carefully on the ground, then grabbed Adam’s arm and half pulled him, half carried him back down toward the laboratory. Adam gasped with pain, dangling like a doll in the dinosaur’s grip—until he was dropped just inside the doorway and pushed roughly toward the scattered files.
“I already told you,” Adam panted, massaging his bruised arm. “I can’t read them.”
The dinosaur watched him, eyes cold and bright.
Unable to meet that gaze, Adam crouched down and submissively started to tidy the files. “I—I’m sorry I tried to go with Bateman,” he said shakily. “I’m just scared. Can’t you see that? I lost my dad, my home, everything.” He fell to his knees. “Please let me go. I can’t help you, I don’t know anything—”
“Know,” Zed echoed. Or was he saying “No”? He was leaning over one of the dead men in the hazard-suits, opening up the rubber outfit from neck to waist with the tip of one gleaming claw. With surprising deftness, he pulled it free of the corpse. Then, with the fabric clamped in one hand, Zed crossed to a small fridge in one corner and tore off the door. He upended it, and a pile of drink cans and ready meals fell out noisily.
“Uh. . . .” Adam licked his dry lips. “You hungry?”
“You . . . hungry,” Zed repeated, though as he rumbled through the syllables he made it sound more like a statement of fact. “Hungry. Need. Go.”
Adam was baffled. “I . . . I’m sorry, I don’t get you.”
The
Suddenly the Z. rex stopped dead, jarring Adam’s bones. It cocked its massive, blackened head to one side.
“What . . . what is it?” Adam asked nervously.
The monster’s only answer was to dump him on the ground and tread stealthily toward the exit, as if advancing on something invisible to Adam’s eyes. Carefully, he crouched down, sniffed the air, then pulled away a loose tangle of gorse from beside the cave exit.
Adam crept up behind the dinosaur, wondering if he dared risk squeezing past and escaping into the park. If he could only find Bateman, then maybe—
The beast gave a growl of warning. There was no mistaking the message—“keep back.” And as Adam peered past his captor’s enormous leg, he realized why.
A digital clock face glowed cold blue from the shadows. It was fixed in place with wires on top of a small white bundle.
“A bomb?” Adam breathed, the words choking in his windpipe. A big one too, if it’s meant to wipe out a dinosaur. “We’ve got to get out of here.” He tried to speak in a low, firm voice, the way he’d seen people on TV talking to wild dogs, but to his own ears his words sounded shrill and feeble. “Look, if you can really understand, at least let me get out of here—”
With an impatient roar, the Z. rex used his tail to push Adam away, back down the tunnel toward the lab. Adam hesitated. Run back to the lab, he thought. Hide under a desk. Hope the blast kills that thing, then you can get away .
But as he was about to go, the massive reptile gave a hiss of satisfaction, turned and took a step toward him, flexing its claws. In one hand it was holding the bomb.
“No!” Adam staggered back, came up sharp against the rock wall. “Don’t bring it inside!”
Ignoring him, the creature came closer.
“Outside!” Adam yelled. “Throw it outside, quick, it’s going to—”
Then he saw that the clock face wasn’t blinking. The countdown had stopped.
Adam clutched his chest and sank down against the wall. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Bateman must have mucked up when he set it.”
There was a contemptuous look in the cold, black eyes. “Not man,” the dinosaur ground out in that deep, raw-throated rasp. “Zed.”
“You?” Adam looked at him uncertainly. He thinks he defused it .
Zed placed the bomb carefully on the ground, then grabbed Adam’s arm and half pulled him, half carried him back down toward the laboratory. Adam gasped with pain, dangling like a doll in the dinosaur’s grip—until he was dropped just inside the doorway and pushed roughly toward the scattered files.
“I already told you,” Adam panted, massaging his bruised arm. “I can’t read them.”
The dinosaur watched him, eyes cold and bright.
Unable to meet that gaze, Adam crouched down and submissively started to tidy the files. “I—I’m sorry I tried to go with Bateman,” he said shakily. “I’m just scared. Can’t you see that? I lost my dad, my home, everything.” He fell to his knees. “Please let me go. I can’t help you, I don’t know anything—”
“Know,” Zed echoed. Or was he saying “No”? He was leaning over one of the dead men in the hazard-suits, opening up the rubber outfit from neck to waist with the tip of one gleaming claw. With surprising deftness, he pulled it free of the corpse. Then, with the fabric clamped in one hand, Zed crossed to a small fridge in one corner and tore off the door. He upended it, and a pile of drink cans and ready meals fell out noisily.
“Uh. . . .” Adam licked his dry lips. “You hungry?”
“You . . . hungry,” Zed repeated, though as he rumbled through the syllables he made it sound more like a statement of fact. “Hungry. Need. Go.”
Adam was baffled. “I . . . I’m sorry, I don’t get you.”
The
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