Welcome To Jurassic Hell

Ch. 42: Talking To The Moon

It's not easy after that day.

Despite Darius' initial confidence in us, the confidence that we'd make it out on our own with the patience and strength of our group, the days, weeks following the betrayal and abandoning of Tiff were steep. We struggled, we tried, and we failed. Over and over.

No matter what, every idea and attempt made to escape Nublar failed. Option after option was thrown away.

It didn't help that for over a week, we'd been scared about Mitch.

After all, we hadn't seen him with Tiff when she'd escaped on the ferry. That had to mean she'd left without her husband, which could also mean the man was roaming the island, somewhere. Because of this, Ben and I took turns going out on surveillance missions across the island.

Occasionally, Darius or Kon would trade places, though it was mostly me and my brother.

It wasn't until a week and a half of failed escape plans that we realized Mitch was dead.

Ben was the one to find out, coming back one afternoon telling us he'd found the rope Mitch had been dangling from. As he explained, it'd been torn half way up from where he'd been. The man's white sun hat had laid abandoned on the ground, in the middle of a giant Dino-print. A T-Rex print.

So, Mitch was dead.

Hap was dead.

Tiff was gone.

We were on our own.

Even after the somewhat-good news that we wouldn't have to watch over our shoulders for the dinosaur poacher anymore, we still had issues the following days.

We tried method after method — makeshift rafts, boats, and gyrospeheres being of the most attempted escapes. None of them, however, worked.

And even trying to use the park canoes failed us, and ended in Kenji getting his leg tangled up in a clash of seaweed and needing Brooklyn to save him from drowning. It also ended in us going to bed soaking wet, and Ben audibly shivering below us at Bumpy's side.

You see, Ben could only manage a few nights before relenting and staying down with Bumpy instead of continuing to bunk up with us. It made me uncomfortable, but this new Ben was too resolved to change his mind, so I let him with hesitance. There was also, of course, the occasional nightmare I'd wake to (namely of Ben and the monorail) which made me go down and fall asleep with my brother and our dinosaur. That added some sense of comfort to my nights.

This pattern of attempts and fails continued for a good long while, for so long I stopped counting the tally marks we'd draw on the chalkboard as each day passed. I was starting to lose hope that we'd get off this pathetic island, that'd I'd...never see mom again.

It's one night in particular that really sets my feelings off, after we'd tried and failed to find a phone in the underground tunnels. Everyone was scattered about the tree house, and I found myself sitting in the bottom of the slide gazing into the woods that darkened as the moon started to replace the sun. The sky was painted a shade of purple that would've once had me staring in awe.

Now I found it boring.

I watched with my legs pulled to my chest and arms wrapped securely around them, trying to find warmth. As the days, weeks, went on, the air was growing colder every night.

Did it ever snow here? I knew it didn't on Costa Rica, but I wasn't sure about Nublar.

I wouldn't like to stay long enough to find out.

My hands every so often fluttered with the temptation to reach back and pull my hair down, to give my iced neck some hair-covered comfort and warmth. I didn't know whether or not I should pull my pony tail down, though, because it still made me feel more mature and...stronger, in a weird sense. A sense I couldn't quite understand. I felt almost empowered with my hair up and out of the way, unlike how I usually felt with my hair waving over my shoulders and down my back.