"Anyone want some breakfast?"
Tiff, a woman with blonde hair, asked the group kindly, causing the teenagers touring the campsite to stop in their tracks.
How long had it been since they'd had a real meal?
The scene shifted. The teens and the three adults sat around a long, makeshift table.
"This is so good… oh man, it's amazing…"
Sammy spoke through a mouthful of food, unable to hide her delight. It was a simple meal, bacon sandwiches and toast, but to the group, it tasted like a state banquet.
"After that, we escaped an attack from another dinosaur. And then another one."
Darius sat next to Mitch and Tiff, swallowing a bite before continuing his story.
"Then we saw your campfire, got chased by another dinosaur, and you guys rescued us."
Mitch, who was pouring water for Tiff, was so enthralled by the tale that he nearly let the cup overflow.
"You've all been through so much just to get here. Your camp destroyed, being abandoned… losing a friend," Tiff summarized, covering her mouth in disbelief.
The five teenagers, mid-meal, suddenly stiffened. During their flight across the island, Ben, the most timid among them, had braved a Pteranodon attack only to fall from the monorail.
Seeing the mood darken, Mitch looked at Tiff.
"Don't be a buzzkill, babe."
He leaned back in his chair, offering the group a reassuring smile.
"Remember? Our boat returns in two days. We're taking you all back to the mainland."
The kids, whose nerves had been frayed to the breaking point in the wild, finally relaxed. The tension snapped, replaced by immediate cheers.
"Is that true?"
Sammy, sitting closest to Tiff, still sounded hesitant. Tiff placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and looked her in the eye.
"Yes, honey. You're going home."
As if drawn by a kindred spirit, Mitch sensed Darius's deep obsession with the island's inhabitants.
"Hey, you want to see the 'Big Five' we photographed in Botswana?"
He opened the playback menu on his camera. Darius leaned in, captivated.
"Whoa… so cool…"
Darius was completely hooked, failing to notice Kenji trying to talk to him from behind.
"Did you get any photos of the dinosaurs?"
Mitch pulled the camera back, a look of mock disappointment on his face as he shook his head.
"Sadly, not yet. Personally, I'm determined to get a shot of a T. rex. I'm dying to see some live evidence of face-biting behavior."
Realizing he might be coming on too strong, considering the kids wanted to leave while he wanted to chase predators, Mitch offered an apology.
"Sorry. I get a bit 'nerdy' when it comes to dinosaurs."
Darius didn't mind at all; he jumped right back into the conversation.
"You want to talk craniofacial biting? I'll bite. Sorry, that was a terrible pun."
Mitch grinned, pleased to find an interested audience.
"Sounds like we both need muzzles."
"I get it… I totally get it…"
Darius was thrilled to find a fellow enthusiast, but Brooklynn wasn't having nearly as much luck. She was seated next to the taciturn Hap, attempting to strike up a conversation.
"So, you give tours for a living, right?"
Hap stared straight ahead. Only the rhythmic movement of his jaw proved he wasn't a statue.
Brooklynn didn't give up. She pushed through the awkwardness, sensing something was off. This man didn't feel like the professional guides she'd encountered during her vlogging travels.
"I don't know if you've heard, but I've actually traveled all over the world, too."
Hap kept his eyes forward, spearing a piece of bacon and popping it into his mouth.
"Yeah, I used to be a vlogger. I was kind of a big deal."
Hap continued to chew, his gaze fixed on nothing. He was definitely not a statue, but he wasn't talking.
"Okay… so where have you been? As a nature guide?"
Seemingly realizing she wouldn't stop until he answered, Hap cast a brief glance at her cooling food before returning his gaze to the horizon.
"I go to nature places."
The brief response only fueled Brooklynn's curiosity.
"Do you usually take out eco-tourists for photography? Mitch and Tiff spoke really highly of you. Is this your first time working with—"
THUD.
Hap tapped his ceramic plate against the wooden table with a sharp, impatient strike. He turned to Brooklynn and let out a low growl.
"Stop asking questions!"
Seeing Brooklynn recoil in shock, he paused for a moment, seemingly composed again.
"Your food is getting cold."
…
Carlo lay by the lake, his tail thumping the ground rhythmically, a subconscious habit he fell into when he was either thinking or bored.
The Parasaurolophus calves seemed to treat his tail like a toy, darting around it and pretending to dodge the impacts.
What exactly is wrong here?
He couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Those people didn't look like a rescue team. They had stayed in one place for far too long.
After memorizing their scent yesterday, Carlo had kept a close watch. Their movements were far too deliberate. They had headed almost straight for the Primeval Ecological Zone. He had even tracked their scent back to the harbor, where he found a small private yacht.
Logically, a rescue team should be prioritizing buildings and emergency shelters. And on an island this dangerous, why weren't they using helicopters?
Had the kids managed to send a distress signal? Or… wait. Why was there such a fresh scent of blood?
Carlo stood up, looking toward the Triceratops herd's territory.
Was it the parents? No, they wouldn't hunt this far out. Ceratosaurus One? No, he prefers dragging kills back to his own territory. He wouldn't just leave a carcass behind.
Carlo ushered the Parasaurolophus calves into the Simosuchus den. It was getting a bit cramped in there for them.
He moved quickly toward the Triceratops habitat, noting that several had fled in a panic, leaving only a few of the stronger individuals behind.
Following the scent of iron and raw meat, Carlo pushed forward and found it.
A fresh, perfectly intact… headless dinosaur corpse.
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