I watched him scurry up the path. That narrow bit was really beginning to look a bit dodgy. I made a note to look for a new route. He was correctly dressed in woodland camouflage, swollen-eyed and pale, his hair still wet. Arriving at the pod, he said, ‘Door,’ and nothing happened. He waited a few seconds then repeated himself more loudly. The door stayed shut. He got the message. Raising his arm, he knocked quietly. I let him in.
I didn’t ask him to sit down, nor did I sit myself. The dinosaur-strength pepper spray stood ostentatiously to hand. I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand.
‘No, please Max, just let me say something. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I don’t know what happened. Well, I do, obviously, but I don’t know why. If it’s any help, I’m as horrified as you are and deeply ashamed. I’m begging you, please don’t end this mission now. We’ve come so far. There’s only sixteen days left and all we’re scheduled for now is data gathering. I see you’ve put a lock on your pod. That’s fine, I understand, but let’s finish the assignment. Please Max, I …’
I cut across him. ‘I’ve already decided. This mission will continue. But there will be different rules. Unless instructed otherwise, you will remain in your pod. You will eat and sleep there. You will keep a reasonable distance at all times. You will not touch me. Any and all conversation is to be of a professional nature only. If you do not agree to this then this mission is terminated now with all the subsequent unpleasantness that will entail.’
He swallowed and nodded.
‘Right, the northern end of the valley. We’ve not been there yet. We’ll do another contour map. Note any new species of dinosaur we might come across, but today I mostly want to get to grips with flora, which is your area. Is your weapon charged?’
He nodded again, looking paler than ever. ‘May I speak? I only want to suggest we concentrate on equipment today and do the northern end tomorrow, when we feel more …’
‘No. Today.’
He looked unhappy but I didn’t care.
I shouldered my pack. ‘Let’s get started.’
We set off down the path.
‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘This next bit’s not good.’ He remembered, swallowed and said formally, ‘Perhaps you would like to go first. If you take off your pack then I can throw it across to you and then do the same for mine. If you agree, that is.’
God help me, I took all this meekness at face value. I slipped off my pack and started across the narrow bit.
‘Watch your feet,’ he said.
They warned us over and over at St Mary’s, but until it actually happens to you, you can have no idea of the speed and silence of a raptor attack. I saw and heard nothing. The first I knew was when something solid caught me across my back and shoulders. I staggered heavily, the path gave way, and I lost my balance and went over the edge.
I rolled, fell, and bounced for what felt like a lifetime. Other things hit me; hard things, rocks, boulders, branches. I had a mouth full of shale. It went up my nose. I had no idea which way was up. I tried grabbing at things to slow my fall, but everything was falling with me. I hit something solid and stopped. I could feel debris piling up around me. I tried to bring my arms up to protect my face and give myself a little breathing space. And then, I think, I passed out.
I only became aware of things very slowly. It was raining and the moisture felt pleasant on my face. I lay under a great weight. Turning my head carefully, I could see I was partly wedged under a fallen tree trunk and partly buried by what felt like half a mountain. I spat gravel and took stock. My back hurt, but I suspected that came from the initial attack. My helmet and vest had done a good job of protecting me on the way down, but every exposed piece of skin burned with Cretaceous road rash. My first instinct was to try and wriggle free, but second thoughts told me to stay put. I had no idea how long I’d been out, seconds or hours. There might still be raptors around and if they heard or saw me moving they’d be down here in a flash. And I was in a very precarious position here. This tree trunk was the only thing keeping me from falling any further and I would like it to continue doing so. It looked a long way down.
It was a bloody long way up, too. Not only that, but the ground looked treacherous and unstable. If I did manage to get free then I would have to have to work my way over to the left, to solid bedrock and try to get up that way. Some dinosaur deity somewhere was smiling on me though, because the rain felt soft and warm and refreshing. If it turned into a typical Cretaceous downpour I’d either be washed away or maybe drown. How can you possibly drown half way up a mountain? Maybe I should be looking at office jobs again.
Activating my com, I whispered, ‘Sussman, can you hear me? Davey, are you there? Report.’