To Be Continued
Happy Belated Halloween! Here’s a “final” installment for the dinosaur series, a short bit to leave you hanging. Technically, I should still have one more tribute post, despite the loss of the holiday. Stay safe!
694 Words
There were gashes ripped into not only the comforter and sheets, but the mattress beneath it. Jack was still shaken up, worried that whoever… whatever… ravaged the material, remained nearby. “We would have heard something. Corbyn would have seen it. It’s probably… I’m sure it’s nothing.” You tried your best to stay positive, but it was hard when you seemed to constantly encounter something new. “I just want to go home,” he muttered, clinging to you as he buried his face in your shoulder. You turned to the others. “If we’re really back on the island, then this could be old, right? The rest of the hotel seemed fine, and nothing was broken into. Maybe when the park closed…” you suggested, the boys bobbing their heads. “It’s been a year. It’s possible that they’re all gone.” Corbyn scoffed. As badly as he wanted you to be correct, things hadn’t gone your way in the past. “Except they’ve survived millions of years without human interference once before… If anything, they might be reclaiming what’s theirs.” Jack looked up, alarmed. “I wanna be home,” he mumbled. “Home away from here.”
The four of you shared the king suite, scared to lose each other in the event of the attacker’s return, the monster you hoped was not one of the creatures you’d grown to know. You didn’t plan to be alone should they try to get comfortable again. It didn’t hurt to spend the night close, considering how much your group had been through together in only twelve months, or even in the last twenty four hours. When morning rolled around, you’d find a way back to the mainland, no matter what it took.
You awoke to chaos, the fire alarms blaring throughout the building. Zach and Jack slept deeply, both sets of their arms wrapped tightly around your waist; Corbyn had been the first to wake with you. “We’ve gotta get out of here. Now,” he announced, shaking them to daylight. You moved quickly, accustomed to what happened when you didn’t, and rushed out of the apparently burning building, unknowingly headed for the mainstreet without glancing backward.
“Everything is starting to look the same,” Jack commented through yawns, rubbing at his eyes as you followed the trail north. “Jungles tend to do that,” Zach replied lightheartedly, playfully punching his buddy’s shoulder. “That thing’s a bit different,” Corbyn pointed out, eyeing a hut not too far down the path. “If we’re lucky, it may have been a restaurant.” You nodded, needy for any form of nourishment, even expired. The shorter ex counselor’s irises lit, happy to hear news of a meal. He surprisingly ran ahead, leaving Corbyn to chase, and Zach to drag you by the hand he’d been holding. You pointed to the bitten wooden post as you got closer, signaling you had most definitely been back on Isla Zembla, home to science’s most ignorant project. “Guess we’re home,” you joked, catching up to where Jack ironically held open a broken door.
It was clear the place had been abandoned, shelves behind the bar barren of most liquor, the ground covered in the remnants of shattered bottles. “So much for breakfast,” the oldest chortled, walking behind the counter and grabbing a few glasses, as well as the remaining alcohol. “Drinks on me,” he beamed, uncharacteristically joyous. You sighed, searching for actual sustenance as the young men sat to drink. You made due in the kitchen, relieved to find the stovetop still worked. You’d eat rice for a second day, but at least you had that.
You returned with the pot, a serving spoon, and dishes. Corbyn poured you a shot, sliding it down the counter as though he’d actually been the bartender. You smiled to yourself, a chorus of thanks in the air. You chugged your first half, slamming the last drop back to the counter as you plated the grain. Upon retrieving your beverage, you noticed something amiss. The contents of your vessel were shaking, more than from just your treatment of the cup. Something strange was around the corner, and you were certain from the shaking of your table that it was something big.