-1994- - Dinosaur Island
The tyrannosaur took a step forward. Then another. It lowered its head until its nostril was inches from her face, breathing hot and wet against her skin. Its pupil contracted, focusing.
“So you’re going to give me that frequency,” Lena continued, “and then you’re going to walk out that door and take your chances with the island. Or I can let the raptor decide. Your choice.”
“The cartel double-crossed him. They sent a team to take the island by force. Your father tried to stop them. He cut the power to the fences, opened the paddocks, set the tyrannosaur loose. He bought us time—me, the other scientists—to get to the bunker. But he didn’t make it himself.” Dinosaur Island -1994-
“Then what do you want?”
She found the pen on the second day.
Harriman’s eyes flicked to the notebook. “You sure you want to do this? Whatever’s out there—it’s been five years. Storms, currents. Even if we find something, it won’t be what you’re hoping for.”
She remembered her father’s notes. Compsognathus—Late Jurassic, Germany/France. Size of a chicken. Scavenger. Social. The photo. The little creature, no bigger than a dog, perched on his shoulder like a parrot. The tyrannosaur took a step forward
Lena had spent five years telling herself the photo was a hoax. That her father had lost his mind. That the notebook was fiction.