Heart thump-thump-thumping too fast in his chest, Dr. Ian Malcolm couldn't remember the last time he had run at such a speed. Of course, his ability for measured retrospection was severely hampered by the fact that he was currently running for his life, flat-out running, blindly running, fast enough to make the soles of his feet sting with every rushed step. The earthy, twig-strewn ground was hazardous, but he didn't dare slow down, didn't dare throw a glance back over his shoulder for fear of catching sight of her. He didn't want to think about his pursuer. To think about it was to concede to her existence; it was to admit that he currently occupied he same space as a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
It was a relief when he felt flat, reliable concrete beneath his feet once more. He slowed down a fraction to catch his breath, realising too late that this was a mistake. The adrenaline that had been carrying him for the last stretch of his panicked escape finally loosened its grip on his battered body. It gave way to pain. His leg must be more severely injured than he had previously believed, he thought glumly. It wasn't surprising; it made perfect sense. Ian's eyes darted ahead, identifying a compact, grey building ahead. "Think like a wounded animal," he told himself, "you are a wounded animal."
Finding himself unable to walk faster than a hurried limp, he made his way towards the building at the fastest speed he could manage. It was impossible to tell what Hammond intended it for, as it had no signage outside, and the doors were shut tightly, presumably against unauthorised visitors and not against the creature Ian's terrified thoughts kept cycling back to. His heart leapt when he spotted a window low enough for him to clamber through in his wounded state. Without hesitation he grabbed a rock from the side of the driveway and aimed. His first attempt failed, only causing a small crack in the thick window pane, but to his delight and relief the second succeeded in smashing the remaining glass. He placed his palms on the sill, his movements careful so as not to cut himself unnecessarily on the shattered pane. A roar in the distance—how distant, exactly? That was the key piece of information he lacked—caused him to speed up. He barely felt the slight cuts to his fingers and palms as he successfully climbed inside the building.
Inside it was surprisingly dark, he couldn't even make out the size of the room he was now in, but he felt significantly safer with a thick concrete wall between himself and her. At last his frantic heartbeat began to slow, along with his breathing. He leaned back against the wall and slid down beneath the window with a groan. All he felt was the dull ache from his leg and the empty, worn out feeling that signified the aftermath of his adrenaline rush. He wasn't even able to properly assess the implications of what had just occured; for once, his mind was utterly blank.
