Beside him, Malcolm was silent, fiddling with a small notebook computer on his lap. He never looked out the window.
In a few moments, they had left the clearing behind, and were moving through dense jungle. Thorne's panel lights flashed: the vehicle switched to its batteries. There wasn't enough sunlight coming through the trees to power the trailer any more. They drove on.
"How you doing, Doc?" Eddie said. "You holding charge?"
"Just fine, Eddie."
"He sounds nervous," Malcolm said.
"Just worried about the equipment."
"The hell," Eddie said. "I'm worried about me."
Although the road was overgrown and in poor condition they made good progress. After about ten minutes, they came to a small stream, with muddy banks. The Explorer started across it, then stopped. Eddie got out, stepping over rocks in the water, walking back.
"What is it?"
"I saw something, Doc."
Thorne and Malcolm got out of the trailer, and stood on the banks of the stream. They heard the distant cries of what sounded like birds. Malcolm looked up, frowning.
"Birds?" Thorne said.
Malcolm shook his head, no.
Eddie bent over, and plucked a strip of cloth out of the mud. It was dark-green Gore-Tex, with a strip of leather sewn along one edge. "That's from one of our expedition packs," he said.
"The one we made for Levine?"
"Yes, Doc."
"You put a sensor in the pack?" Thorne asked. They usually sewed location sensors inside their expedition packs.
"Yes."
"May I see that?" Malcolm asked. He took the strip of cloth and held it up to the light. He fingered the torn edge thoughtfully Thorne uncapped a small receiver from his belt. It looked like an oversized pager. He stared at the liquid-crystal readout. "I'm not getting any signal…"
Eddie stared at the muddy bank. He bent over again. "Here's another piece of cloth. And another, Seems like the pack was ripped into shreds, Doc."
Another bird cry floated toward them, distant, unworldly. Malcolm stared off in the distance, trying to locate its source. And then he heard Eddie say, "Uh-oh. We have company."
There were a half-dozen bright-green lizard-like animals, standing in a group near the trailer. They were about the size of chickens, and they chirped animatedly. They stood upright on their hind legs, balancing with their tails straight out. When they walked, their heads bobbed up and down in nervous little jerks, exactly like a chicken. And they made a distinctive squeaking sound, very reminiscent of a bird. Yet they looked like lizards with long tails. They had quizzical, alert faces, and they cocked their heads when they looked at the men.
Eddie said, "What is this, a salamander convention?"
The green lizards stood, watched. Several more appeared, from beneath the trailer, and from the foliage nearby. Soon there were a dozen lizards, watching and chattering.
"Compys," Malcolm said. "Procompsognathus triassicus, is the actual name."
"You mean these are - "
"Yes. They're dinosaurs."
Eddie frowned, stared. "I didn't know they came so small," he said finally.
"Dinosaurs were mostly small," Malcolm said. "People always think they were huge, but the average dinosaur was the size of a sheep, or a small pony."
Eddie said, "They look like chickens."
"Yes. Very bird-like."
"Is there any danger?" Thorne said.
"Not really," Malcolm said. "They're small scavengers, like jackals.
They feed on dead animals. But I wouldn't get close. Their bite is mildly poisonous."
"I'm not getting close," Eddie said. "They give me the creeps. It's like they're not scared."
Malcolm had noticed that, too. "I imagine it's because there haven't been any human beings on this island. These animals don't have any reason to fear man."
"Well, let's give them a reason," Eddie said. He picked up a rock.
"Hey!" Malcolm said. "Don't do that! The whole idea is - "
But Eddie had already thrown the rock. It landed near a cluster of compys, and the lizards ducked away. But the others hardly moved. A few of them hopped up and down, showing agitation. But the group stayed where they were. They just chittered, and cocked their heads.
"Weird," Eddie said. He sniffed the air. "You notice that smell?"
"Yes," Malcolm said. "They have a distinctive odor."
"Rotten, is more like it," Eddie said. "They smell rotten. Like something dead. And you ask me, it's not natural, animals that don't show fear like that. What if they have rabies or something?"
"They don't," Malcolm said.
"How do you know?"
"Because only mammals carry rabies." But even as he said it, he wondered if that was right. Warm-blooded animals carried rabies. Were the compys warm-blooded? He wasn't sure.
There was a rustling sound from above. Malcolm looked up at the canopy Of trees overhead. He saw movement in the high foliage, as unseen small animals jumped from branch to branch. He heard squeaks and chirps, distinctly animal sounds.
"Those aren't birds, up there," Thorne said. "Monkeys?"
"Maybe," Malcolm said. "I doubt it."