Bow Ties and Chickens

Forest

"Forest, are you awake?" Karen jarred him from his slumber as he woke up drowsily in a strange place. 

Suddenly memories flooded into his brain, and he launched himself at the bars, then leapt back with a yelp. 

"Already tried that," said Karen. 

Thomas sat in the corner glumly. 

"I have no idea what's going on, and no one will tell me."

Forest sighed. 

"My dad is evil, and is running tests on my sister. Oh, and we have no idea where Mr. Smith is. He probably ran off like one of the chickens the moment those two entered the room." He glared at his father and the clipboard woman, who were standing outside of the cell and watching them quietly. 

"Oh. Okay." Thomas seemed much happier now. 

"He really doesn't know what we've done," the woman said. "I feel like it's wrong to keep a secret."

His father smiled. 

"Ah, yes. Abigail. I suppose you didn't realize where we were keeping her yet? Well, you'll be surprised to find she is a lot closer than you think." He turned and yelled something to a guard. They nodded and pressed a button, showing live video footage of the greenhouse.

"No," Karen said. 

"No," Forest cried. 

"Oh my God!" Thomas yelped. "Your sister is Tyrell!" 

Forest's vision swam. She was so close, all this time, and he hadn't even realized it. 

"So Tyrell was really female all along? And we've been calling her a he?" Karen asked. 

"No, as a dinosaur it has no specific gender. We didn't want any of that getting in the way of visitors." 

"How could you do this to your own daughter?" Forest glared. "You're no family of mine. You're some creepy weirdo who lives under a museum."

"Ah, that's not all," the creepy weirdo who lived under the museum smiled. "I'm the creepy weirdo under the museum who has complete control over whatever happens to you next."

Someone pressed a button. 

"Take a deep breath," Forest said. "If you must breath do so through your shirt. Do you understand?"

"Don't breath in creepy silver stuff that smells like lemons," Thomas recited. "Gotcha."

The room began to turn silver. Forest let out one last cry of rage before burying his face in his shirt. 

Just when he thought it was the end, the mist stopped flowing from the walls. Muffled screams came from outside. The door opened, and Forest could breath again. Standing over two unconscious people was no other than John Smith. 

"Hurry up, then," he said. "I know how to save your sister, but this might take a bit longer than I'd like." 

"There's no reversal!" his father cried from the ground, trying to get up and failing. "There's nothing you can do!" 

"He's not lying," John admitted. "He never made an antidote." 

"But you did," Karen replied. Mr. Smith nodded. 

They dashed out of the lab, past the weird chickens. Forest felt the story was coming to an end. 

"Who are you, really?" he asked. "You know about us and Tyrell, you know about this secret stuff, who do you work for?" 

"I work for people who really don't like these guys. Speed up." Mr. Smith started running even faster. Forest, Karen, and Thomas struggled to keep up. 

Finally they made it to the greenhouse. Smith pulled something out of his pocket; a chicken feather. He dropped it into a small cup of water with a tablet of some sort. It fizzled and left behind a silver liquid. 

"That looks exactly the same as the stuff they tried to make us breath," Forest said. 

"Just trust me. Some types of medicine are clear like water, but does that mean they are water? No. And we need someone to go into there and give it to it. Someone that it will trust. Which of you does Tyrell like the most?" 

"Probably Thomas," Forest admitted. "He listens most closely whenever Thomas tells stories." 

"Are you absolutely sure?" Smith asked. 

"As sure as we'll ever be," Karen replied. 

Smith leaned down at whispered something in Thomas's ear, then handed him the vial. Thomas nodded wearily. 

Smith pushed open a glass door that opened up the the habitat part of the greenhouse. 

"Get in and get out," Smith said. 

Thomas was shaking, but he nodded. 

"Tyrell?" he asked once the door was closed. "Tyrell?" 

A snort came from behind a tree, and Tyrell appeared. 

"Remember to be fast, but don't run!" Smith cried. 

Thomas smiled wearily at Tyrell as the dinosaur sniffed him. 

"Rrrrp?" Tyrell nosed the vial in his hand. 

"Abigail, are you really in there?" Forest wondered. 

"You need to drink this," Thomas said. "I'm sorry; I really am." 

"Rrrroar," Tyrell replied, as if it understood. Then it stuck it's tongue into the vial and came up with the silver stuff smeared all over it. 

"Now get away," Smith urged. Thomas slowly backed away, Tyrell eyed him nervously, then shook it's head, and by then Thomas was safely back on the walkways. 

A deafening roar shook the entire museum, and for a few terrifying moments, Forest thought that Smith had been lying to them.