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aquaquadrant · 2 years

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nature’s productions - chapter nine

Rated T for: Language, canon-typical violence, blood/injury, mentions of death

Summary: Three years after the disaster at Jurassic World, Claire Dearing and Owen Grady are contracted for a mission to save as many dinosaurs as possible from the impending eruption on Isla Nublar. But when they arrive, they experience an unexpected complication; six teenagers who were left stranded on the island when the park closed.

Surviving has left the campers scarred in more ways than one, and they’re pretty sure that their would-be rescuers have less than good intentions. But with a volcanic eruption at their heels, they’ll do whatever it takes to get a ride home- and save the dinosaurs while they’re at it, because that’s kind of their thing.

A/N: Hey y’all! I do apologize for this chapter taking a bit longer than normal, but it’s nearly 10k words so hopefully it’s worth the wait! Also, I’ve decided to write a separate epilogue (instead of tacking it onto the end of this chapter) that should get posted next Sunday. As always, you can find the fic on A03 for full tags and previous chapters, hope you enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do! - Aqua

~*~

chapter nine - on the affinities of extinct species to each other and to the living

~*~

Ben sprints down the hallway on silent feet, Brooklynn and Darius right beside him.

The ringing in his head has died down a bit, but there’s still no return to his hearing. Which is disappointing, but not surprising. He’s staying firmly on Brooklynn’s left side as always, guarding her blind spot. In return, she’s keeping a hand latched around his wrist, so she can give nonverbal cues to stop or change direction if needed.

He has no idea where they’re going. He has no idea what the plan is. Normally, that wouldn’t be a huge problem. It’s not the first time he’s rushed headfirst into a dangerous situation with only his instincts to guide him. But this time it’s different because he knows, logically, that there is a plan, and he just doesn’t know it.

From the few times he’s been able to glance over at Darius and Brooklynn as they run, he can tell they’re talking about it, their mouths moving to form silent words. He doesn’t resent them for it, of course. It’s not their fault they don’t have time to stop and try to paraphrase it out for Ben using their very limited and clumsy signing system. He might be able to glean at least a little context from reading lips, but that would require him to be watching them instead of their surroundings.

He’s kicking himself for not coming up with a more complete, fluent language beforehand. But the system was originally designed for Darius, and hearing wasn’t a concern back then. It was more about finding ways for him to quickly communicate important information without being slowed down by his stuttering.

Sure, the signs helped Ben out if someone was trying to talk to him at a distance, or with lots of background noise going on. But he never imagined it would take the place of his hearing entirely. He didn’t know he’d need to rely on sign language like this. He wasn’t supposed to lose his hearing so soon.

He thought he’d have more time.

He’s trying not to dwell on it. He can’t afford to dwell on it. But he’s never felt so disconnected from his herd before, not even during those first few weeks spent readjusting after his time alone. Watching their conversations and not being able to hear them. Knowing that whatever brief signed explanation he’s given is only a fraction of what was said. Having to piece together everyone’s feelings from visual cues alone, when facial expressions have never been his strong suit.

It hurts, more than he expected.

Not to mention there’s the very real fear associated with not being able to hear his surroundings. He already got snuck up on by mercenaries once, and now there’s a Velociraptor running loose on the ship. Brooklynn always does a great job keeping an ear out for him, but she can’t be with him every second of every day. Survival was already hard enough before, and he’s worried that being unable to hear his surroundings will eventually have deadly consequences.

(The notion that he won’t always have to be on constant alert for danger hasn’t even occurred to him, despite being fully aware that they’re about to be rescued. For Ben, being rescued does not equal being safe. In fact, he might never feel truly safe again.)

If Ben lets himself think about spending the rest of his life like this, he’s going to have a total breakdown.

His only hope is that there’ll be something they can do for it once they’re back on the mainland, with access to doctors and specialists. But even that comes with its own uncertainties. He hates the thought of a complete stranger poking and prodding at such a vulnerable area. Or, god forbid, if they try to put him under anesthesia.

But those are considerations for another time.

They don’t run into anyone on their way outside; it’s been long enough since Brooklynn’s announcement that everyone interested in fleeing must have headed for the lifeboats, while the remainders probably barricaded themselves in a room to avoid Blue. Either way, it isn’t until they step back out onto the deck that they see mercenaries again.

A small group of them are attempting to deploy a lifeboat off the side of the ship, with a couple flashlights between them to illuminate the rigging. Ben freezes as soon as he sees them, before Brooklynn even has a chance to squeeze his arm.

The mercenaries have noticed them- probably from the sound of the access door closing, because Ben knows from previous experience that all three of them have near silent footsteps. The mercenaries turn around, faces twisted into angry scowls and mouths moving in what’s more likely shouting.

Ben feels Darius and Brooklynn tense beside him. He doesn’t know if they’re trying to talk to the mercenaries- he won’t take his gaze off them, not even for a second- but they aren’t in a great position for running. It’s a narrow passage that would easily put them in arms reach of the mercenaries, and the only other place to go is back inside the ship.

So Ben pulls Wheatley’s gun out of his waistband and holds it up. The mercenaries jolt back with raised hands and wary eyes.

“We’re going now,” Ben tells them, hoping he’s loud enough to get the point across.

There’s slight nods from the mercenaries. Brooklynn tugs Ben’s arm, and he lets her lead him past, keeping his eyes and his aim firmly locked on the mercenaries. Once they’re at a safe enough distance, Ben tucks the gun away and turns to follow Brooklynn and Darius properly, so they can start to run.

He can’t hear if the mercenaries are giving chase, but he finds the possibility unlikely. The mercenaries might’ve wanted revenge against the ones responsible for sinking the whole operation, but not at the cost of their escape.

Darius leads them across the deck and down into the hold, and Ben’s incredibly tempted to shout out for Bumpy as they go. He desperately wants to know if she’s unscathed from her conflict with the mercenaries. But he’s also aware that Blue is around here somewhere, too, and would just as easily hear him. He doesn’t know how Darius plans to deal with Blue yet, but it probably doesn’t involve broadcasting their presence to her as they run aimlessly through the ship.

Their first stop is by a stack of crates pushed up against the wall; Brooklynn motions for Ben to stop and then signs ‘safe,’ which reassures him of the mercenary problem. Kneeling beside the crates, Darius draws his knife and starts to pry open the lids, speaking to Brooklynn as he does.

Ben keeps watch and tries not to feel left out.

A vibration shudders through the floor, making him look over. Darius has gotten the crate’s lid off- though judging by his wince, he didn’t mean for it to fall. Inside the crate is what looks to be a bunch of netting. Darius grabs a handful of it, holding it up as he talks to Brooklynn, and Ben can tell by the way it moves that it must be weighted or reinforced somehow.

Which makes sense, since these guys came prepared to catch dinosaurs.

“We making a trap?” he asks, trying his best to keep his voice down but having no idea how successful he is.

Darius nods, apologetic, before continuing to talk to Brooklynn, and that’s that.

Ben turns away, back to keeping watch. He trusts Darius and Brooklynn’s skills and judgement implicitly, and knows whatever they come up with will work just fine without his input. As much as it stings, he knows it’d be a waste of time and energy to insist they fill him in every step of the way. There’s no room for egos in a life or death situation.

Keeping watch while unable to hear the others is lonely. Despite himself, he finds his thoughts straying to Kenji. Ben isn’t normally one to have separation anxiety; he’s had to work apart from Kenji far too often for that. But right now, he’s keen to finish up this dinosaur business and get back at Kenji’s side. Not that there’s anything else he could do for amputated fingers, but still.

It’s important to him to make sure Bumpy is okay and that Blue is recaptured, but Kenji’s important, too. He just hopes Kenji’s holding up alright without him.

Soon enough, Brooklynn is tugging on his arm. The pair of them have opened a couple more crates; Brooklynn has a thick coil of nylon cord draped around her shoulder and what looks like a folded tarp to go with the bundle of netting in Darius’s arms.

They set off again, their pace a little slower now that Brooklynn and Darius are carrying cargo. Ben still isn’t used to this all-encompassing silence; he scans their surroundings almost constantly, out of paranoia that there could be someone or something nearby that he just can’t hear. Even the knowledge that Brooklynn would alert him if there was anything coming isn’t enough to settle his nerves.

Darius keeps them moving along the wall of the hold, scanning every vehicle and shipping container they pass. He seems to be looking for something specific- which, of course, Ben has no information about. He’s about to ask, because they’d probably find it faster with another set of eyes, but then they come around the corner of a shipping container and nearly stumble over a body.

It’s a mercenary, whose throat and chest have been torn open.

(Wheatley’s corpse flashes through Ben’s mind. He quickly shoves the thought away.)

Ben instantly reaches for his gun. He’d hate to shoot Blue, but if it was a matter of life or death, he would do it without hesitation. He can’t see any sign that the raptor is around, so he glances at Brooklynn.

Brooklynn’s face is pale, one hand resting on her bat’s handle, but she shakes her head, indicating that she can’t hear Blue nearby. Of course, that doesn’t mean the raptor isn’t there, but it reassures Ben a little.

‘Careful,’ Darius signs, before gingerly stepping around the body.

They push ahead. Ben is now fully resigned to staying quiet; any questions he has aren’t important right now. It takes all his focus just to make sure his footsteps aren’t loud. He can’t hear them, so he’s being extra cautious and hoping his years of practice will carry him through. The minutes pass in nerve-wracking silence- which Ben supposes he ought to get used to- before Darius finally stops in front of a nondescript section of wall.

Two large shipping containers have been loaded parallel to each other in such a manner that one end of them is flush with the wall of the hold, forming a sort of narrow, dead-end alleyway between them. Darius’s calculating gaze sweeps over the area before he gives a firm nod. Turning to Ben, he puts a hand on his shoulder and signs ‘wait.’

Ben gives him a good-natured smile and nods. Standing at the mouth of the makeshift alleyway, he keeps watch as Darius and Brooklynn work behind him. He’s starting to see why Darius picked this location for the trap; the shipping containers are almost twice the height of a full-grown man, which means going over top of them would be a difficult feat even for a raptor. That just leaves one way in, allowing Darius to ensure that Blue goes exactly where he wants her.

Assuming she takes the bait. Whatever that’s gonna be.

It’s not long before Brooklynn’s careful hand taps Ben’s shoulder to get his attention. He turns to see the net has been laid out flat on the ground, a couple feet from the alley’s entrance. The netting itself is black, and in the hold’s dim lighting, blends in fairly well with the dark floor of the ship. The nylon cord has been strung through the outer loops of the net in some intricate kind of pattern Ben can’t make heads or tails of- no doubt a skill Brooklynn learned during an old unboxing excursion.

She’s holding the free end of the cord, which still has quite a long length to it. Darius points at her and then at one of the shipping containers, before signing ‘help.’ Ben catches his meaning and quickly steps up against the container, locking his fingers together to form a sling.

Between the two of them, Brooklynn manages to catch hold of the lip of the container and pull herself up, holding the cord between her teeth. Once up top, she starts looping the cord through some metal brackets on the container that are probably used for crane rigging, if Ben had to guess. When she’s done, she eases herself back down over the edge so Ben can catch her, ensuring she doesn’t land too hard and sprain something.

Then they repeat on the other side.

Despite being completely out of the loop, Ben’s starting to piece it together. By stringing the cord between the two containers, Brooklynn is giving the net trap leverage. It’s a little obvious, but only if you know what a trap is. For a Velociraptor on a ship full of strange, new, unfamiliar human things, it should be easily overlooked. Of course, the details of how Brooklynn intends to trigger it are beyond him, but at least he can help with this.

Ben moves into position to catch her again, but Darius waves him off. He picks up the folded tarp, which they’d set aside, and hands it to Ben. Then he points up at Brooklynn and makes a throwing motion.

Well, that’s easy enough to decipher. Ben tosses the tarp up to Brooklynn. She catches it and starts to unfold it, keeping hold of the free end of the cord as she does. Ben wonders what she’s going to do with it, but then Darius takes his arm and nods over at the end of the alley.

Ben points at the net and tilts his head.

‘Safe,’ Darius assures him, before walking over the net himself. Apparently, it’s a manually triggered trap.

Ben follows Darius across the net and to the end of the alley, their backs against the wall. Up on top of the container, Brooklynn has draped the tarp over herself, laying flat on her stomach with only her face peeking out. It’s camouflage, Ben realizes- helping her blend in with the top of the container. So she’ll spring the trap from up there, then.

Which means Darius and Ben will be down here, with Blue.

‘Ready?’ Darius asks Brooklynn. He waits for her free hand to poke out and sign ‘ready’ before turning to Ben.

There’s equal amounts of apprehension and determination in his eyes, a look Ben knows all too well. He can’t pretend what they’re about to do isn’t extremely dangerous, but he’s also confident that they’ll succeed. It’s an expression that instantly fills Ben with resolve, and reminds him why the herd’s accepted Darius as their leader.

‘Ready,’ Ben tells him. ‘Plan?’

Darius cups his hands and lifts them to his mouth, pursing his lips like he’s going to whistle. Ben recognizes the motion; it’s the way he makes his raptor calls.

So they’re the bait. Ben isn’t even surprised.

‘Help,’ he signs, nodding to show he understands. Then he tilts his head and asks ‘stay?’

Darius nods; they need to stay put where they are so Blue has to cross over the net.

Hopefully she’ll come out of pure curiosity like back on Nublar, instead of out of a desire to kill them. But Ben hadn’t been joking when he’d said she likes Darius best; he’s saved her life a couple times now, and she’s certainly intelligent enough to remember that.

Now, the real question will be whether or not she cares.

Side by side with Darius, Ben turns to face the alley’s entrance. Taking a deep breath, he puts his cupped hands to his lips and makes the call, with nothing but muscle memory to go off of. A quick glance at Darius confirms his call was good, so he repeats it a couple times before waiting.

It’s a gamble using the same tactic twice. But Blue is a curious animal at heart, and since she’s one of the fastest dinosaurs on Nublar, there’s never a lot of risk for her to check things out when she always has the option to run away. And while she might not be fooled into thinking there’s another Velociraptor around, not by using the same call as before, she’ll probably want to investigate anyway. They’ve made their presence known, in a way that’s directly calling for her. That’s bound to catch her interest, whether she’s seeking companionship or a snack.

Hell, she might just want something familiar in this strange new environment. Ben can’t imagine how stressed and confused she must be, running around the ship.

The minutes trickle by, with no indication from Darius that Blue has responded. There’s no way of knowing whether she heard it. She might not have, if she’s above deck right now. She also could’ve heard the call and decided to ignore it. They could be wasting their time sitting here, and they wouldn’t know it.

Darius’s brows are furrowed as he motions for Ben to repeat the call. But just as Ben is about to, Darius freezes, his eyes widening in clear recognition of something Ben obviously can’t hear.

Relief sweeps through Ben. Blue must’ve heard him, after all. That’s a promising sign; if she was confident enough to respond to the call, then she doesn’t suspect that anything’s off, which will make trapping her much easier-

Then Blue steps around the corner, clicking her talons silently against the floor.

~*~

If Kenji’s being completely honest, he’s had better days.

Strangely enough, the pain of having his fingers bitten off by a raptor is the least of his concerns. He doesn’t even really notice it unless he’s concentrating on it or he accidentally moves his hand. It almost feels like the pins-and-needles of a body part that’s fallen asleep, that weird balance between total numbness and stinging pain.

The shock and blood loss probably have something to do with it. Shivers race across his skin. Every time he sits up or moves his head too fast, a wave of dizziness crashes over him. If he isn’t careful to regulate his breathing, it starts getting quick and shallow. He’s not necessarily scared of the injury itself, because he knows it’s not life-threatening and the bleeding finally seems to be under control. But it’s rendered him pretty much useless; he can’t fight or run in this condition, and he’s only got one working hand.

Not a great position to be in, considering there still might be mercenaries out there who want them dead.

Brooklynn might’ve convinced some of them to abandon ship, but that doesn’t mean they’re safe. Kenji wouldn’t be surprised if the stragglers get desperate once the lifeboats run out. Plus, there’s still the matter of the raptor running around and killing people.

That’s another concern. Half of his herd- including his boyfriend- is out there right now trying to capture Blue. He has near infinite faith in their abilities, but he still worries. Especially now that Ben is completely deaf. Which he knows Ben would hate, because he’s always resented the idea that losing his hearing would make him less capable, but Kenji can’t help it.

He thinks he’ll always worry. Even after this is all over.

Sammy seems to be thinking along a similar vein, her expression troubled as she peers out through the front windows of the bridge. They’re quite high up from the deck and the faint moonlight makes for poor visibility, so the chances of her actually seeing anything are low. But still she watches, drumming her fingers along the command console with nervous energy.

Kenji slowly turns his head, letting it rest on his knees. Yaz, sitting against the wall beside him, is fiddling with her ankle brace. Her head is bent and her shoulders are hunched, which is Yaz-speak for ‘leave me alone.’ The sight makes Kenji’s heart tighten because he knows exactly where her mind is at; she’s blaming herself for his injury.

He’s never seen her freeze like that before. Sure, it was scary, and the timing was… unfortunate, to say the least. But he certainly doesn’t blame her for it. As someone who prides herself on her strength- physically and mentally- he knows it must be hitting her hard.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Your foot okay?”

Yaz tenses and doesn’t look up. “Shut up,” she huffs without venom. “It’s just strained, you’re the one who got his fingers bitten off.”

Kenji hums noncommittally. “Hey, I’ve got like, seven others. You’ve only got two feet.”

Yaz lets out an exhale that might be a sigh, might be a laugh. “Is that how we’re ranking injuries now?” she asks dryly. “Based on how many backups we’ve got?”

“More like how easy it is to get along without them,” Kenji says, cracking a grin. “So some of my fingers are a little shorter now, what’s that gonna change? My ability to make shadow puppets?”

That gets Yaz to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “Shadow puppets?” she repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s really the first thing you thought of?”

Kenji shrugs. “Hey, I could be a master puppeteer. You don’t know everything about me.”

Over by the console, Sammy giggles. “Now that I’d love to see sometime.”

Kenji tilts his head up to grin at her. “You couldn’t afford me,” he says self-importantly. “And you know what they say; never make shadow puppets for free, lest your fingers be bitten off by a dinosaur.”

Sammy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sheesh, how much blood did you lose?”

“Oh, you know.” Kenji shrugs a shoulder. “Four or five.”

“Four or five what?” Yaz asks incredulously.

“Maybe six,” Kenji amends.

Before they can question him further, the radio crackles to life.

“Sammy, are you there?”

It’s a man’s voice, low and brisk with urgency. He speaks with a Hispanic accent, and Kenji distantly realizes this must be the guy who responded to Sammy’s distress call. Who’d she say it was, the Mexican version of the Coast Guard, or something?

“Oh, shoot!” Sammy hurries over and grabs the receiver. “Yep, I read ya loud an’ clear! What’s up?”

“I wanted to update you on the situation,” the voice continues. “The United Nations are assembling an emergency response committee to discuss our options moving forward, and the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation has dispatched a team to Lockwood Manor.”

Yaz lets out a low whistle. “Wow,” she murmurs to Kenji, “they aren’t messing around, huh?”

Kenji nods sagely. “I guess ‘dinosaur’ is the magic word to make the government get shit done fast.”

He supposes the speedy response is more than warranted, considering what a huge security risk this ship currently poses to the entire west coast of the Americas. He doesn’t know if the mercenaries rounded up any dinos that can swim or fly, but he doesn’t want to find out. And apparently, the government feels the same.

“That’s great to hear!” Sammy says, relieved. “Thank y’all so much.”

“Of course,” the man replies. “Have there been any changes to your situation?”

Sammy hesitates, glancing over at Kenji with a questioning look. Kenji just shrugs. They’re bound to find out about Blue, anyways, so it wouldn’t hurt to tell them now. Doesn’t matter to him if people know he got his fingers bitten off. Not even a little.

“Well, funny you bring that up,” Sammy starts haltingly. “Turns out, the raptor got free. My friends had a run-in with her and she sorta… bit someone’s fingers off.”

“What?!”

Kenji can’t help but snicker at the shock in the man’s voice. All things considered, he’s super lucky Blue didn’t do anything worse. There isn’t a doubt in his mind that if she hadn’t recognized them, if she had attacked first and asked questions later, they would’ve been lunch meat. So really, losing a few fingertips isn’t the end of the world.

At least it wasn’t his thumb. That would’ve sucked.

“Not all the way!” Sammy says quickly. “Just a couple of ‘em are missin’ some bits. Plus, Kenji’s doin’ alright now, I just figured I’d warn y’all we’ve got a dino on the loose. But Darius, Brooklynn, and Ben are on their way to round her up as we speak, so it oughta be taken care of before y’all get here.”

“Uh- no, negative,” the man says, sounding alarmed, “you should all remain inside the bridge until help arrives.”

Sammy winces. “Sorry, bit late for that,” she tells the man. “But it’s alright, they know what they’re doin’. Darius has a way with dinos, and Blue owes him one. I’m sure she’ll be agreeable.”

That doesn’t seem to reassure him. “I must advise you all to stay inside,” he repeats.

Kenji snorts. Does this guy know they survived on Nublar for three years? On one hand, it’s kinda nice for an adult to try and keep them out of danger, since so many of their previous experiences involved adults trying to hurt and/or kill them. But on the other hand, it’s a little annoying to actually be treated like kids for once, when they’ve spent all this time looking after themselves.

It’s like, too little too late, dude.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Sammy says cheerily, like the ray of sunshine she is. “Me, Yaz, and Kenji are holdin’ down the fort here. The others will be back soon as Blue’s handled. Shouldn’t take too long, but if you like, I can let you know when they get here?”

“Alright,” the man finally relents. “Please do that. The rest of you-”

“Remain inside,” Kenji calls tiredly. “We got it, dude. Thanks.”

Sammy shoots him a look, though she’s holding back a smile. “Don’t mind Kenji,” she says good-naturedly, “we sure appreciate the help! Now, I don’t wanna keep you too long, so I’ll be sure to let you know when the others get here, alright?”

The way she’s treating this like a casual housecall seems to have taken the man aback. Must be that Southern hospitality. “Copy that,” he says after a moment.

With that, Sammy hangs the receiver back up. “Man, can y’all believe we’re finally gettin’ rescued?” she asks, turning to them with a bright smile.

“Oh, don’t say that,” Kenji groans. “You’ll jinx us.”

Yaz lightly smacks him on the arm- an affectionate gesture that Kenji never thought he’d be so happy to receive. “Let her have this.”

“Alright,” Kenji laughs, “but you’d better knock on some wood.”

“Does your skull count?” Yaz asks flatly, though Kenji catches the teasing glint in her eyes.

“Oh hush,” Sammy chides them, amused. She knocks her fist against one of the console’s wooden cabinets. “There. Now seriously, y’all, does any of this feel real to you?” she asks, walking over to sit in front of them.

“No,” Kenji admits, picking at the bloody jacket wrapped around his hand. “I never thought our escape would involve an animal trafficking operation. But in hindsight, I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah,” Yaz huffs. “I don’t know why people are still so crazy about dinosaurs. I feel like everyone wanting to make or buy them should have to spend a month on an abandoned island full of them. They’d change their tune pretty quick.”

“Please,” Kenji sniffs, “those rich jerks wouldn’t last a week.”

“Unlike you, rich jerk?” Yaz quips, folding her arms.

Kenji scoffs with false outrage. “I’ll have you know, I’m a special case.”

“That’s for sure,” Yaz chuckles, as Sammy hides her laugh behind her hand.

Kenji grins along with them. Even though he knows they aren’t in the clear yet and this might be a premature celebration, he greatly prefers it to the tense anxiety from before. He’s always sort of considered it his responsibility to lighten the mood when he can.

Of course, if it was someone else whose fingers got bitten off, he’d be approaching the situation with a lot more consideration and tact. But the last thing he wants is for Yaz to feel guilty for what happened. He doesn’t want to be pitied, either. So, making light of it is the best play he’s got.

And if Yaz feels comfortable enough to tease and banter with him, then he’s on the right track.

“Well,” Sammy says with a rueful smile, “it’s a darn good thing people still care about dinos, even just in a greedy way, or we never would’a gotten off the island.”

“You’re probably right,” Yaz agrees, sighing. “I can’t see any other reason for someone to go there, and our attempts at getting home on our own were all non-starters.”

Kenji clicks his tongue. “I still think my idea for a giant slingshot was a winner,” he jokes.

Yaz rolls her eyes. “Of course you do.”

There’s a sudden pounding on the door. Kenji jolts upright- and then immediately regrets it as his vision blacks out for a moment.

“You brats better open up right now,” a loud, angry voice yells, “or we’re breaking this door down!”

Kenji and Sammy lock eyes.

“Sammy!”

“I knocked on wood!”

~*~

Darius stares at the raptor twenty feet away from him, hardly daring to breathe.

Putting it bluntly, Blue looks rough. The bandage on her side has started peeling away, the stiff gauze a patchwork of dried and fresh blood. She’s panting, her head low and jaws hanging wide. There’s blood streaked haphazardly across her chest and muzzle, painting her teeth. But what strikes Darius most are her eyes.

Her pupils are fully dilated, almost perfectly round. It completely obscures the color of her eyes and makes them look pitch black. Darius knows it’s a normal response to being in dim lighting- as a way of increasing visual input- but that combined with her wild appearance makes her look all but possessed.

Like a real monster of nightmares.

Blue stares at them from across the alley. Even from this distance, Darius can read her body language fairly well.

She heard Ben’s call but didn’t return it, which means she’s wary. She doesn’t look surprised to see them- not in a way that Darius can interpret, at least. She certainly doesn’t seem happy, which he wasn’t expecting, anyway. She’s not outright hostile, either, but there’s an intensity about her that’s unsettling. It’s a world of difference from the raptor that approached them back on Nublar, what feels like days ago.

This raptor is scared. She’s tired, and in pain, and highly stressed out. She’s in a completely new environment and being exposed to completely new stimuli, which must be overwhelming for an animal with such refined senses and high processing ability. She’s also fresh off of who knows how many kills, each a result of what she likely felt was a threat to her life.

She’s in total fight or flight mode. And on a ship like this- which is big, but unfamiliar and largely inaccessible to a creature without thumbs- there’s a hard limit on how far she can run.

So, if pressed, her first choice is going to be to fight.

They just need to avoid reaching that point.

Slowly, Darius lowers himself onto his knees. Ben takes the hint and follows suit.

Blue’s head jerks to the side. Her face twitches with microexpressions- rapid widening and narrowing of her eyes, flaring her nostrils, curling her lips. She lets out a string of chirping noises, tilting her head, and takes a step forward.

Darius doesn’t dare look at the net. Blue’s never seen a trap before, or anything else comparable, but she’s also insanely intuitive and would know to avoid it if he gave it any special focus. So he keeps his gaze directed at Blue, but not quite meeting her eyes, lest she mistake it for a challenge. And despite being unable to check, he knows Ben is doing the same; they’ve honed the same instincts during their time on Nublar.

Blue looks them up and down before examining the alleyway. Her gaze drifts over the net and its rigging without stopping, probably being filed under ‘new weird human stuff’ in her brain. She’s only a couple steps away from the trap.

If it doesn’t work, Darius and Ben will be stuck in a dead-end alleyway with a very pissed off raptor.

God, he hopes this works.

Blue lingers where she is, rumbling uncertainty in her throat. Still moving slowly, Darius reaches out to squeeze Ben’s arm, prompting him to make the call again. Darius is insanely grateful they had so many practice sessions when a pitch-perfect chirp rings out.

Something changes in Blue’s expression. She turns a circle around herself, head whipping from side to side, almost searching as she hisses in warning. Tail lashing and claws flexed, she sniffs the air. After a couple seconds, she goes stock-still, tremors of barely-constrained energy running through her body.

Then she looks up at Brooklynn, hidden under the tarp.

Darius’s heart jolts. But before he can do anything, Blue’s head snaps around to stare at him. Her pupils have constricted, letting that blazing amber color shine through, and her eyes are narrowed in what can only be described as hate.

Darius realizes what that look means, and his blood runs cold.

Blue’s highly developed sense of logic has kicked back in, overruling base fight or flight instincts.

But her logic has decided that they’re enemies.

Screeching, Blue turns and runs back out the alley- but she doesn’t go far. She jumps up onto a nearby truck, climbing onto its trailer; the end of which is only about six feet away from the edge of the shipping container that Brooklynn’s on. As Blue’s legs coil beneath her, it suddenly dawns on Darius what she’s about to do.

Ben reacts first.

“Brooklynn, run!” he screams.

In the same moment, Blue leaps off the truck and lands on the shipping container. Feet pounding against metal, she charges towards Brooklynn with a furious shriek, claws outstretched and teeth bared.

Time seems to slow down.

Brooklynn swings her legs around to drop off the edge of the container. But the tarp draped over her is bulky, constricting her limbs, slowing her down. So when she’s finally able to pull herself over the edge, she’s not quite fast enough to avoid Blue’s claws as the raptor sideswipes.

Red sprays through the air, Brooklynn screaming as she falls.

Ben’s already there to catch her, quickly steadying her on her feet. Three red lines are scored along the back of Brooklynn’s right shoulder; the gashes don’t look particularly deep, but Darius feels his stomach drop anyways.

Metal screeches above them as Blue’s claws dig into it, the raptor trying to change direction against her own momentum and sliding on the tarp. With an outraged roar, she leaps at them-

And snags on the trap’s rigging.

The net shoots up off the ground; Blue’s not inside it, but it flies up in front of the raptor, wrapping around her snout and claws. She hits the ground with a thud, snarling as she thrashes against the rapidly-tangling lines.

They won’t hold long, though.

“I’m okay,” Brooklynn says quickly as Darius rushes over. “Let’s go!”

The three of them bolt out into the hold. Ben and Brooklynn take up their usual formation, Ben in Brooklynn’s blind spot and her hand wrapped around his wrist. Together, they shift behind Darius, letting him take the lead.

Their earlier run is nothing compared to this. This is a top speed they have reserved specifically for times like these, with endurance built up over three years of running for their lives. It’s still not faster than a Velociraptor on flat ground; even with their head start, it won’t take Blue long to catch up. Already, Darius can hear her chasing after them.

But they have an advantage that she doesn’t: rubber-lined shoes that actually have traction on concrete.

“R- right!” Darius shouts as they approach another shipping container.

With the heads-up, Brooklynn is able to alert Ben in time for them all to seamlessly change direction without slowing down. The ship’s hold is a virtual maze of large vehicles and shipping containers, and Darius fully intends to use it to their advantage. The more turns they make, the harder it’ll be for Blue to gain speed.

He lets himself go on autopilot as he leads the way through the hold, frantically trying to come up with their next move. They lost their one chance to trap Blue, so that’s out. The best move now would be to bring her somewhere out in the open, where the authorities can easily see her when they arrive. That’ll increase the chance of them attempting to capture her alive, instead of being ambushed by her elsewhere, which could result in their (or her) death.

And the only open space on this ship is the deck.

Of course, they can’t just run laps with Blue at their heels until the authorities arrive, especially with Brooklynn injured. They need somewhere to hole up in. One common feature in the vehicles brought for this expedition is that they very rarely seem to have front doors. There are trailers, sure, but most- if not all- of them are currently occupied by a dinosaur, and they really don’t need more of those running around. However, there’s one kind of vehicle Darius spotted earlier that does have doors. And it just so happens that there’s two of them out on the deck.

He just hopes they didn’t think to lock the helicopters’ doors. If that’s even a thing. Worst case scenario, Ben still has his gun.

After dodging and weaving their way towards the ramps at the end of the hold, they sprint up onto the deck. Darius is thankful he was out here earlier, because it’s almost completely unrecognizable in the scarce moonlight. The helicopters should be towards the bow; they just have to get through another maze of shipping containers and trailers.

Blue screeches somewhere behind them. Darius takes a deep breath and plunges ahead.

Now that they aren’t in an enclosed space, their footsteps and heavy breathing don’t echo as loudly. On the bright side, it might make it easier to shake Blue off their tail. But on the other hand, Blue will also be less audible. Darius will have to rely on Brooklynn’s hearing to alert them if Blue is getting close- if she’s still able to focus with her injury, that is.

Darius’s lungs are starting to burn as they race through the cargo. He can see the very tips of helicopter blades ahead of them, almost tauntingly out of reach. Just a few more swerves around this shipping container, and then-

Brooklynn inhales sharply. “Wait!”

Blue jumps around the corner, landing in front of them with a roar.

Ah.

Darius skids to a halt, his heart sinking. Rather than continue following right behind them, and thus being led on a wild chase through the maze, Blue has realized which direction they’re trying to go and circled around the outside to cut them off.

Clever girl.

Panting, Darius backs up a couple steps, his mind racing. They could try screaming to get Blue to back down, but she seems fairly committed at this point. Plus, Brooklynn and Ben are similarly winded and he fears it wouldn’t be a very impressive display, anyway. There isn’t a clear path to the helicopters, but there are still the shipping containers behind them-

Blue lunges at them, and Ben fires his gun.

The shot rings painfully in Darius’s ears- not quite as bad as the one Wheatley fired in a small room- and echoes out across the deck. Ben hasn’t actually hit Blue, but she swerves away from them, snarling. Whether he intended to only fire a warning shot or it’s his inexperience with a gun at play, Darius doesn’t know, but it’s given him an opportunity to act.

Trusting that Ben will keep Blue from getting too close, Darius grabs Brooklynn’s arm and runs to the nearest shipping container.

“Up,” he says breathlessly, locking his fingers together. Brooklynn immediately gets the picture, grabbing his shoulder to steady herself as she puts a foot in the sling he’s made. Darius boosts her so she can grab the edge of the container. She starts to pull herself up, grunting in pain as she strains her injured shoulder.

Another shot rings off. Darius glances over his shoulder.

Good thing, too. Because Blue has dodged the bullet without breaking stride, forcing Ben to dive out of the way. Which results in Blue charging right at Darius.

He jumps away just in time, Blue slamming against the side of the container. Just above her, Brooklynn’s legs kick wildly for a second before she’s able to swing them up and over. Shifting onto her knees, Brooklynn whirls around to meet Darius’s gaze, her eyes wide with panic.

“Darius!”

“St- stay there!” Darius shouts to her before sprinting away.

He comes up on Ben right as the other boy is getting to his feet. He takes in the sight quickly- Brooklynn on top of the shipping container, Blue shaking herself off, Darius running towards him- and turns to run, too.

Together, Darius and Ben race towards the closer of the two helicopters. Ben still has the gun in his hand but seems to know that shooting at Blue while they’re both moving would be pointless, and stopping to take the shot would be a fatal mistake. Darius can hear Blue shrieking behind them, furiously giving chase. Her steps are gaining fast, rapidly approaching from the side and Darius realizes they aren’t going to make it.

Grabbing Ben’s arm, he sharply turns them to the left. Blue lands in the space they were occupying only a second ago, claws skidding on concrete as her jaws snap closed on empty air.

Ben stumbles a little at the unexpected turn but manages to keep going. They’re running towards the second helicopter now, on the other side of the deck. They’re twenty feet away when Blue starts bearing down on them again. Darius squeezes Ben’s arm to warn him. The helicopter is ten feet away. Five. Three, two, one-

Darius nearly slams into the side of the helicopter, grabbing the door’s handle. Next to him, Ben has turned around to shoot at Blue.

Out of the corner of his eye, Darius sees a small puff of powder from where the bullet strikes against the concrete, right in between Blue’s feet. Whether it actually hits her or just startles her, he isn’t sure, but it’s enough to knock her feet out from under her.

It doesn’t, unfortunately, stop her momentum.

So suddenly, Ben has a Velociraptor flying at him.

Blue’s side slams against Ben and throws him backwards, towards the edge of the ship. His back hits the railing just low enough that he tips over it, disappearing off the side of the ship with a shout.

Darius forgets the helicopter. Darting over to the railing, he sees that Ben has managed to grab hold of it, dangling over the ocean below. He’s lost hold of the gun, both hands gripping the bottom rung of the railing with white knuckles, his eyes blown wide. He doesn’t scream- over the years, they’ve all fallen out of the habit of screaming out of fear- but Darius can see it in his expression, clear as day.

Leaning over the railing, Darius strains to reach Ben’s hands. Wind roars in his ears as the inky black waves churn beneath them. He’s just managed to grab Ben’s wrists when he hears Blue growl.

Glancing over his shoulder, Darius’s heart just about stops beating.

Blue has gotten back on her feet. She doesn’t look to have sustained any further injury, but she’s holding herself tersely, weary from all the rough punishment her body’s been taking. Even so, she’s snarling at him with all her teeth, eyes blazing with a fury so intense it’s pinned Darius to the spot more surely than the weight of trying to pull Ben back up.

This is not a mindless killing machine. This is an intelligent apex predator who has decided she wants them dead.

Them, the tricky little humans who lured her into a trap, who got her shot, who helped take her away from her home. The humans who stood by as she laid helpless in her restraints, terrified and in agony. The humans who then had the audacity to try and trick her again- to save her, but how could she possibly know that? All she knows is that they cannot be trusted, no matter how they helped her in the past, and they are too dangerous to leave alone. Them, the funny little humans who travel in a pack and speak in her tongue but tell only lies.

Darius is defenseless, trapped by his unwillingness to let Ben fall (he can’t, not again). When Blue leaps for him this time, there will be no escaping her claws. It’s a fact they’re both aware of, an understanding passing between predator and prey.

Blue tenses her legs beneath her-

Then Bumpy rams into her side.

Blue is thrown against the helicopter, which actually shakes from the impact. With a heavy thud, the Velociraptor drops to the ground in a heap. Screeching in pain and alarm and confusion, she scrambles to her feet and staggers back a few steps, blinking at the Ankylosaurus that has suddenly appeared before her.

Bumpy roars, slamming her clubbed tail against the deck. She shifts in front of Darius and Ben, blocking them from Blue.

Darius doesn’t pause to marvel at his good luck. Gritting his teeth, he digs his heels in and pulls. Ben manages to swing a foot up and hook it under the railing, giving himself more leverage to climb. As soon as his head pokes up and his eyes fall on Bumpy, his jaw drops open.

“Bumpy!”

Darius helps Ben over the railing, though it’s hardly needed at this point. Ben leaps onto Bumpy’s back, sliding into his usual place as if he’d never left. The light in his eyes is wild and fearless and free, and Darius knows he is witnessing Ben in his most raw, untamed state.

Jungle-man and Ankylosaurus roar together, and for one glorious moment, they are one soul in two bodies.

Blue hisses as she backs away from them, tail lashing uncertainly. Although she’s tackled much larger foes before, an Ankylosaurus is a tall order- particularly in her weakened state. Her hatred is a strong thing, but it’s not strong enough to win out over self-preservation.

Her weight shifts, and alarm shoots through Darius. She’s about to run- which will put them right back at square one. He scrambles to think of a way to warn Ben, to tell him not to let Blue get away, but Ben’s back is to him and of course, he can’t hear-

But then a dart appears in Blue’s neck.

A startled yelp escapes the raptor. She thrashes her head from side to side, clawing at her neck in vain, swaying dangerously on her feet as the movement unbalances her. Then a second dart hits her side. Blue takes a few steps before finally slumping to the ground, not quite asleep but unable to get up.

Darius’s head whips around to follow the dart’s trajectory.

Across the way, Owen lowers a tranquilizer gun. Claire comes up beside him, with Brooklynn leaning heavily against her shoulder.

“Sorry we’re late,” Brooklynn calls with a grin. “What’d I miss?”

~*~

Yaz’s gaze snaps over to the door, her heart jolting.

A man’s face is glowering at them through the door’s small window, with a second one visible just over his shoulder. She doesn’t think they’re the same guys who tried to get in earlier, but it’s hard to tell. They look properly deranged, though, eyes alight with a desperate sort of fury.

If she had to guess, they didn’t make it to a lifeboat in time. This must be their back-up plan.

She has no way of knowing if anyone out there managed to repair the ship’s engine. But if these guys are trying to take the bridge back, they must be trying to make a break for it, and that would only be possible if the engine was functional.

Unless they don’t know the engine is sabotaged? Wheatley called mechanics to the engine room earlier, but he didn’t say what for. It’s possible they’re under the impression that the only reason the ship isn’t moving is because the engine was turned off from the bridge, leading them to think they might actually have a chance to escape if they get control back.

“You’re not getting this ship moving again,” Yaz calls over to them, keeping any trace of nerves out of her voice. “We took out the engine.”

“Shut up!” one of the men yells. “Open the fucking door or we’re smashing our way in!”

Well, there’s also the possibility they’re just acting on blind rage and desperation.

“Don’t listen to them,” Kenji says easily. “They’re just bluffing.” Then he turns to call over his shoulder. “Nice try, idiots! You can’t get in here.”

The man’s face disappears from the window. Then there’s a deafening bang as something heavy slams into the door. The door rattles in its hinges, holding fast, but Yaz hears the unmistakable crunch of metal bending under metal.

Whatever they’re using out there will almost certainly do the trick.

“Oh.” Kenji blinks. “Maybe they can.”

“Woah, woah, stop!” Yaz shouts, holding her hands up. “Okay, we’ll let you in, just don’t break the door down! There’s a fucking Velociraptor out there, for godsake.”

There’s a pause before the man’s face reappears at the window. “You’ve got from the count of five!” he barks. “Five…”

“What’s the plan?” Sammy whispers urgently.

Yaz’s mind races as she quickly scans the room. There’s the other door they could escape through, but she can’t run, and neither can Kenji. Fighting is their only option- because she knows that these people will try to kill them. Or maybe take them hostage, as bargaining chips to save their own hides when the authorities arrive. Yaz refuses to give them that opportunity, but they probably have guns and all she’s got is a dull knife-

Her gaze falls on a fire extinguisher hanging from the wall.

“Four…”

“Kenji,” Yaz says lowly, only loud enough for them to hear. “Stay put and cover your face. Sammy, get up and unlock the door, slowly. Then get out of the way quick, behind the door.”

Yaz knows how tall Sammy is, and knows that her standing in front of the door will block the rest of the room from view through the tiny window. Yaz, being a fair few inches shorter, should be completely hidden behind her- which will allow her to grab the fire extinguisher without being seen.

She doesn’t have time to explain this, but they obey without question. Kenji hides his face behind his knees, putting his arms over his head, while Sammy slowly rises to her feet and turns to the door.

“Three…”

Yaz tucks her legs into a crouch, ignoring the sharp pain in her ankle. As soon as Sammy steps in front of the door, obscuring the window, Yaz darts over to the fire extinguisher and lifts it off its hook. It’s not a full-sized canister, only about as long as her forearm, but there’s still a decent weight to it. And based on the dust coating the handle, it’s likely never been used before. That means it should be fully charged.

“Two…”

Sammy puts her hand on the door’s lock. Yaz steps behind her and pulls the extinguisher’s pin.

“One.”

The lock slides back, and Sammy swings the door open with enough force to create a breeze. Moving with the momentum, she quickly steps behind the door, sandwiching herself between it and the wall.

At the same moment, Yaz aims the nozzle forward and squeezes the trigger.

A cloud of chalky white foam sprays out of the nozzle in a wide arc, immediately flooding the doorway. Shouts of alarm and confusion fill the air, but Yaz doesn’t give them the chance to figure out what’s happening. Adjusting her grip to grab the handle with both hands, she holds her breath, closes her eyes, and steps into the cloud.

Then she swings the fire extinguisher up and out.

It connects hard with what she thinks is someone’s head, based on the solid thunk that rings out. There’s a heavy thud shortly after it, which she assumes is the man dropping to the ground. Stepping forward will probably end in her tripping over him, so she makes a split-second decision and launches the fire extinguisher forward like a javelin.

Thunk!

That definitely hits the second man. Once he topples over, Yaz waits for a few more precious seconds- blind to the world and still holding her breath- just to make sure neither of them are getting up.

Then she stumbles back out of the cloud, falling to the ground as her ankle gives out on her. She lands flat on her back with a pained grunt. The impact knocks the wind out of her, making her wheeze for breath- and then immediately curl onto her side coughing as she inhales some of the dry foam.

Her throat stings, but she forces herself to cough deeply to get it all out before sucking in fresh air. Her eyes are starting to water, so she pulls the collar of her shirt up to wipe her face with the inside of it, since the front is probably covered in foam. Blinking through her tears, she pushes herself up into a sitting position and looks around.

The cloud has finally started to settle, dusting the two unconscious forms in the hallway like freshly fallen snow. A large sledgehammer is laying on the floor beside them- which she supposes answers the question of how they intended to break through the door.

Sammy steps out from behind the door, gasping. “Yaz! You okay?��

‘Okay,’ Yaz signs, as she struggles to catch her breath. She waves Sammy off with her other hand, pointing at the open doorway.

Sammy catches her meaning immediately. Hurrying over to the door, she leans down to grab the sledgehammer and drag it inside the bridge. Then she slams the door shut and locks it.

Yaz leans back on her hands and exhales slowly. Hopefully the authorities will be here before the mercenaries wake up and have time to go track down another sledgehammer or something.

“That was incredible!” Sammy exclaims, racing over to wrap Yaz in a hug. She pulls away and looks Yaz over, her brows creased with worry. “But are you sure you’re alright, sweet pea? That looked rough.”

“Yeah,” Yaz says hoarsely. “It’s just a mild irritant, should clear up quick.” She stretches her leg out and flexes her ankle experimentally, wincing as it throbs. “And you know, I’m used to this thing giving me grief.”

Sammy clicks her tongue sympathetically, smoothing a hand over Yaz’s hair. “Well, thank you,” she murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to Yaz’s cheek.

Yaz gives her a warm smile. “Anytime.” She coughs into her fist before glancing over at Kenji. “You okay, Kenj?”

“Holy shit!” Kenji’s gaping at Yaz with wide eyes, the top of his head dusted white. “That was, hands down, one of the top five coolest things I’ve ever witnessed. But only because we’ve been fighting dinosaurs for three years.”

Yaz snorts. “Wow, top five? I can die happy now.”

“Yeah, well. It’s pretty exclusive.” Kenji shrugs, some of his humor falling away as he gives her a considerate look. “Seriously though, thanks. There’s no way I could take a fight right now, so I owe you one.”

Yaz huffs a laugh at that, even as the knot in her heart loosens. “We’ll call it even,” she amends.

“Alright,” Kenji says softly. He runs his good hand through his hair, shaking off the powder. “So where’d you learn how to use a fire extinguisher, anyway?”

Sammy gives him a funny look. “Uh, didn’t you pay attention durin’ your school’s fire safety drills?” she asks.

“No,” Kenji tuts, “that would require me actually going to school. Rich jerk, remember? Private tutors all the way.”

“Actually,” Yaz says, a fond smile tugging at her mouth, “when you have a single mom who works a lot, you spend a lot of time home alone. So, she made sure I knew how to use one in case of an emergency.”

Sammy breaks into a broad grin. “Probably not the emergency she was imaginin’, huh?” she chuckles.

“Nope,” Yaz laughs.

Over in the corner, the captain lets out a string of unpleasant sounds. His words are muffled by the gag, but Yaz can catch their meaning by his tone well enough.

Kenji shoots him a look. “Come on, man,” he complains, “we’re having a moment here.”

“No, look!” Sammy says suddenly, jumping to her feet.

Yaz follows her gaze out the bridge’s front windows. Squinting past their own reflections and out into the dark night, she can just make out a tall shape approaching off the bow, flashing with yellow and red lights. The siren hits her ears a heartbeat later, and the sudden tears that spring to her eyes aren’t from irritating chemicals, but relief.

Help has finally arrived.

~*~

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #jurassic world fallen kingdom #jwcc #camp cretaceous #my writing

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