Michael Crichton - The Lost World

"You can do it, Doc…"

He climbed, closing his eyes, just climbing, holding the rope, gripping it tightly. His arms ached, his shoulders ached, and the rope seemed to become smaller in his hands. He twisted it around his fist, trying to hold on. But at the last moment he began to slip, and then he felt a sudden burning pain in his scalp.

"Sorry about that," Sarah said, and she pulled him up by his hair. The pain was intense but he didn't care, he hardly noticed, because now he was alongside the accordion connector, watching the coils pop free like a bursting corset, and the trailer dropped lower but she still pulled him, she was immensely strong, and then his fingers touched wet grass, and he was over the side. Safe.

Beneath them, there was a sharp series of metallic sounds - whang whang! whang! -as the coiled metal rods snapped one after another and then, with a final groan, the trailer broke all connection, and fell free down the cliff face, growing smaller and smaller, until it smashed on the rocks far below. In the glare of lightning, it looked like a crumpled paper bag.

Thorne turned, and looked up at Sarah. "Thanks," he said.

Sarah sat heavily on the ground beside him. Blood dripped from her bandaged head. She opened her fingers, and released a handful of his gray hair, which fell in a wet clump onto the grass.

"Hell of a night," she said.

Watching through the night-vision glasses, Levine said, "They made it!"

Kelly said, "All of them?"

"Yes! They made it!"

Kelly began to jump and cheer.

Arby turned, and grabbed the glasses out of Levine's hand.

"Hey," Levine said. "Just a minute - "

"I need them," Arby said. He spun back around and looked out at the dark plain. For a moment, he couldn't see anything, just a green blur. His fingers found the focus knob, he twisted it quickly, and the image came into view.

What the hell is so important?" Levine said irritably. "That's an expensive piece of equipment - "

And then they all heard the snarling. It was coming closer.

In pale shades of luminous green, Arby saw the raptors clearly. There were twelve of them, moving in a loose cluster through the grass, heading in the direction of the high hide. One animal was a few yards ahead and seemed to be the leader; but it was hard to discern any organization in the pack. The raptors were all snarling and licking the blood off their snouts, wiping their faces with their clawed forearms, a gesture oddly intelligent, almost human. In the night-vision glasses, their eyes glowed bright green.

They did not seem to have noticed the high hide. They never looked up toward it. But they were certainly headed in that direction.

Abruptly, the glasses were yanked out of Arby's hands. "Excuse me," Levine said. "I think I'd better handle this."

Arby said, "You wouldn't even know about it, if it wasn't for me."

"Be quiet," Levine said. He brought the glasses to his eyes, focused them, and sighed at what he saw. Twelve animals, about twenty yards away.

Eddie said quietly, "Do they see us?"

"No. And we're downwind of them, so they won't smell us. My guess is they're following the game trail that runs past the hide. If we're quiet, they'll go right past us."

Eddie's radio crackled. He hastily reached to turn it down.

They all stared out at the plain. The night was now calm and still. The rain had stopped, and the moon was breaking through thinning clouds. Faintly, they saw the approaching animals, dark against the silver grass.

Eddie whispered, "Can they get up here?"

"I don't see how," Levine whispered. "We're almost twenty feet above the ground. I think we'll be fine."

"But you said they can climb trees."

"Ssssh. This isn't a tree. Now, everybody down, and quiet."

Malcolm winced in pain as Thorne stretched him out on a table in the second trailer. "I don't seem to have much luck on these expeditions, do I?"

"No, you don't," Sarah said. "Just take it easy, Ian." Thorne held a flashlight while she cut away Malcolm's trouser. He had a deep gash on his right leg, and he had lost a lot of blood. She said, "We have a medical kit?"

Thorne said, "I think there's one outside, where we store the bike."

"Get it."

Thorne went outside to get it. Malcolm and Harding were alone in the trailer. She shone the light into the wound, peering closely. Malcolm said, "How bad is it?"

"It could be worse," she said lightly. "You'll survive." In fact, the wound cut deep, almost to the bone. Somehow it had missed the artery; that was lucky. But the gash was filthy - she saw grease and bits of leaves mashed into the ragged red muscle. She'd have to clean it out, but she'd wait for the morphine to take effect first.

"Sarah," Malcolm said, "I owe you my life."

"Never mind, Ian."

"No, no, I do."

"Ian," she said, looking at him. "This sincerity is not like you."

"It'll pass," he said, and smiled a little. She knew he must be in pain. Thorne returned with the medical kit, and she filled the syringe, tapped out the bubbles, and injected it into Malcolm's shoulder.

He grunted. "Ow. How much did you give me?"

"A lot."

"Why?"

"Because I have to clean the wound out, Ian. And you're not going to like it when I do."

Malcolm sighed. He turned to Thorne. "It's always something, isn' t it? Go on, Sarah, do your damnedest."

Levine watched the approaching raptors through the night glasses. They moved in a loose group, with their characteristic hopping gait. He watched, hoping to see some organization in the pack, some structure, some sign of a dominance hierarchy. Velociraptors were intelligent and it made sense that they would organize themselves hierarchically, and that this would appear in their spatial configuration. But he could see nothing. They were like a band of marauders, shapeless, hissing and snapping at one another.

Near Levine in the high hide, Eddie and the kids were crouched down. Eddie had his arms around the kids, comforting them. The boy especially was panicky. The girl seemed to be okay. She was calmer.

Levine didn't understand why anyone was afraid. They were perfectly secure, high up here. He watched the approaching pack with academic detachment, trying to discern a pattern in their rapid movements.

There was no doubt they were following the game trail. Their path exactly matched the paras earlier in the day: up from the river, then over the slight rise, and along the back of the high hide. The raptors paid no attention to the hide itself. They seemed mostly to interact with each other.

The animals came around the side of the structure, and were about to continue on, when the nearest animal paused. It fell behind the rest of the pack, sniffing the air. Then it bent over, and began to poke its snout through the grass around the bottom of the hide.

What was it doing? Levine wondered.

The solitary raptor growled. It continued to root in the grass. And then it came up with something in its hand, something it held in its clawed fingers. Levine squinted, trying to see it.

It was a piece of wrapping paper from a candy bar.

The raptor looked up at the high hide, its eyes glowing. It stared right at Levine. And it snarled.

"You feel okay?" Thorne said.

"Better all the time," Malcolm said. He sighed. His body relaxed. "You know, there's a reason why people like morphine," he said.

Sarah Harding adjusted the inflatable plastic splint around Malcolm's leg. She said to Thorne, "How long until the helicopter comes?"

Thorne glanced at his watch. "Less than five hours. Dawn tomorrow."

"For sure?"

"Yes, absolutely."

Harding nodded. "Okay. He'll be okay."

"I'm fine," Malcolm said, in a dreamy voice. "I'm just sad that the experiment is over. And 'it was such a good experiment, too. So elegant. So unique. Darwin never knew."