“What does it look like?”
“You tell me,” Owen said.
“I’ll be happy to. It’s as simple as it looks, my friend. I paid an awful lot of money for this expedition. I’m also taking time off from my business to be here. That’s costing me additional money. I came here to hunt and I was willing to go along with your ‘cameras only’ edict. That was before the force field collapsed. Now, I think I need bigger protection than a camera. You’ll notice I came prepared for any eventuality.”
“You’d better put that gun away,” Owen said softly. “No one’s doing any hunting on this trip-least of all with a gun!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Masterson answered. “Gardel, get another rifle from the truck.”
Gardel didn’t answer. He shoved himself off the fender of the jeep and walked quickly to the rear end of the truck. Denise watched him as he dug beneath the supplies and slid out another rifle. Her eyes were large with fright. Chuck looked at the rifles and then tried to read Masterson’s face. It was expressionless. “Let’s look at it this way,” Masterson said, a smile beginning on his face. “I paid for a hunting expedition. If I don’t get what I paid for, I’m being cheated. A man has a right to protect his own investment. Isn’t that true?”
“No, it’s wrong. You’re here by government permission. And law forbids the use of...”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, grow up!” Masterson snapped. “We’re here to hunt — and we’re going to hunt. Only we’re going to do it the way we should, with guns. I’m going to bring back some real specimens for the museums, my friend. Specimens they can stuff in place of those reconstructed fossils they’re using now.”
“Forget this, Mr. Masterson,” Owen said, trying to keep his voice down. “It’ll only lead to trouble. If not now, then when we get back and I report this.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Gardel said.
“Yes,” Masterson agreed. “Brock is right. We’ll cross our bridges when we come to them. Right now, our first bridge is a little matter of dinosaur hunting.”
Arthur suddenly got to his feet, shaking his head. “I don’t like this,” he said in his deep voice. “I don’t like it one bit.”
Masterson let out a sigh of exasperation. “Primitive times seem to have struck a responsive chord in your breast,” he said. “I’d like to remind you who pays your salary, Arthur.”
Arthur opened his mouth as if to speak and then changed his mind.
Masterson, content with his minor victory, said, “You’ll drive Owen and his brother in the jeep, Arthur. Denise, Pete, Brock and I will lead in the truck.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Owen said firmly.
“Aren’t you being a little ridiculous?” Masterson asked. “How can you stand there and argue with a man holding a gun? This gun could put a six-inch hole in an elephant, Owen.”
“It’s lucky I’m not an elephant, then,” Owen said sourly,
“I imagine it could blow a man’s head clear off,” Masterson continued. “Id hate to have to do that.”
Owen began laughing loudly, and Chuck almost joined him until he remembered the seriousness of the situation.
“Stop behaving like a movie gangster,” Owen said. “It doesn’t fit well with your executive’s personality.”
Masterson smiled. “No, Owen, not a gangster. A hunter. And a hunter shoots to kill.” He nicked his thumb against the safety catch above the trigger. “Shall we get started now?”
Chuck stared at Masterson incredulously and then said, “Why, I think he means it, Owen.”
Owen was equally surprised “Yes. Yes, I really believe he does. I really believe so.”
“That’s absolutely right, Owen,” Masterson said. “I do not intend to sit here and wait for those slow-witted dinosaurs to come and find me. I’ve got a gun and ammunition and I’m going to do a little hunting. Now get into the jeep, both of you.”
Chuck hesitated, looking to his brother for a decision.
Owen shrugged. “Sure. We have no choice. Well go along. But only so I can keep an eye on you. You’re still my responsibility, Mr. Masterson.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your concern.”
Owen turned his back to Masterson and began walking to the jeep. Arthur was already behind the wheel, his face emotionless, his eyes staring straight ahead at the shadows moving in the distance.
“Denise,” Masterson said. “You’ll come up in the cab with Brock and me. Pete, you’ll ride in the back. Let’s get rolling.” He lifted his niece down from the tailgate and popped her into the cab. Gardel started the engine as Masterson swung aboard.
In the jeep, Arthur twisted the ignition key and muttered, “I don’t like this at all.”
The truck moved ahead over the lush growth, flattening ferns and bushes, its tires skidding over wet rocks. In the smaller vehicle Chuck peered through the windshield and then turned to Owen.
“What are we going to do?”
“What can we do? They’ve got guns.”
“Do you really believe they’d use them on us?”
“I don’t know, Chuck. This is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me. Masterson is acting like a madman. If we’re not careful, he’ll get us all killed out here.”
Arthur said nothing. He kept his hands tight on the wheel and his eyes glued to the treacherous ground ahead.
They moved forward slowly, like children taking their first steps. The truck hugged the deeply vegetative ground, rumbling noisily to the ferns and cycads. Behind the truck, the jeep obediently shoved its way through the thick greenery that clung tenaciously to the land.
The shrubbery parted reluctantly. It was like a sentient thing forbidding passage. It clawed at the fenders, slapped against the metallic sides, stuck out long, jutting roots to ensnare the tires. Insects flurried into the air in frightened hordes as the vehicles pushed their way deeper into the lush plants. Chuck was surprised to recognize grasshoppers, cockroaches, beetles, flies, bees, butterflies and even moths. For an instant, he doubted that they were really back in Jurassic times. It seemed incredible that modern-day insects could have had their beginnings so very long ago. As if to add proof to his thoughts, a large ant crawled over the side of the jeep and he watched its frantic progress across the windshield.
Moisture clung to the giant leaves of the plants, slapping water at them as the jeep pushed aside the heavy foliage. Clinging close to the earth like a thick layer of gas, a heavy whitish mist silently worked its meandering way among the plants.
A silence seemed to pervade the air, a silence as deep as the lush growth, a silence somehow frightening in its completeness. It was almost as if life had withdrawn into a hollow shell, peering out with wide eyes. There was the feeling of being watched, a feeling as terrifying as the sound of footsteps behind you in a dark alley. The silence was broken only by the throaty growl of the truck and the higher-pitched whine of the jeep. And these sounds were completely out of place in this primitive expanse of wilderness. The mechanical voice of a rumbling engine was almost a violation here.
There was a magnificence to the scene, a lordly grandeur that filled Chuck with strange, excited emotions. Everything around him seemed to be growing without purpose or plan. The land fairly shrieked disorder, and yet, strangely enough, there was a deeper feeling of harmony about the whole. It puzzled Chuck and it confused him.
He kept watching the tortured progress of the truck, Pete’s red head shining above the tailgate like a bobbing beacon.
Unconsciously, his eyes strayed from the truck to the perimeter of heavy growth beyond the truck. He blinked, looked again, and then opened his eyes wide.
“Owen!”
“What is it?”