A Chance to Live

Chapter 10: Catching Up

In the sandy deserts of California, the sun was overhead, blazing hot, scorching the piece of earth down below. Huge rock structures formed from erosion over the centuries now towered over two small metal beasts speeding below.

     The wheels on the mechanical monsters spun swiftly over the shifting sands, roaring as they moved through the harsh terrain at incredible speeds. The divers of the massive jeeps seemed to be looking for something, heads scanning the general area for something old.

     Or new.

     The person in the passenger seat took out a small device with a little screen on it, a broken rhythm of beeps coming from a flickering Blue dot. They seemed to be following it almost, with many of them getting slightly anxious and restless, hands moving towards large weapons of destruction. Some looked different than others, though they all had the same target.

     Of course, there was no way for them to know that they were chasing the wrong target. That would have been impossible, no matter how beneficial.

     "Alpha, this is Bravo."

     "Alpha here, you're supposed to say over when you're done. Anyways what is it? Over."

     "Fine. Doesn't it seem strange that the tracker hasn't moved at all? D-9 would probably have gone somewhere else by now, but she hasn't left that cave or anything, over."

     "Agreed. And then there's the part about the missing squadron. I mean... you don't really think that one small raptor could possibly have fended off all those men, do you? Over."

     "That's because they didn't have a real women on their team" another voice chimed in on the radio. There was an awkward pause before the crackling radio spat more words out.

     "Either way, it's way too suspicious. And this tracker doesn't seem to be completely intact either. Over."

     "What's that supposed to mean? Over."

     "Do you remember the 2015 Isla Nublar incident? Over."

     "How could any of us forget it? That thing was a true nightmare." everyone shuddered at the thought. They had all been informed of it, even shown all of the footage involving that monstrosity. "Over."

     "It had clawed out its tracker and used it to set up an ambush. Over."

     "What are you trying to say? Over."

     "I think that the same thing may be happening here. Or already did. Over."

     "Well the trap's already been sprung then. In that case we should split up, and try to figure out where she would go next, over."

     The radio was silent for a moment as both of the men took out a map of the area, and started drawing out possible routes, before circling the two most likely spots. The vote was unanimous, and they all agreed.

     "Bravo, you head along the east route, and we'll head along the west, since we're already near it. Over."

     "Roger that. Bravo over and out."

     The drivers adjusted course, with one almost completely veering around to another direction. The sand began to blow heavily as the two jeeps went their separate ways.

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A lot of time has passed, and nothing much has really happened. Other than the occasional incident here and there, it's been moving at a steady pace. Though we still have some things to work out.