Adrenaline is a funny thing. It can jump-start your body-engine even if you have no gas. It flowed through me now like Niagara Falls.
We turned and ran, splitting up again, this time totally on our own. I glanced back to see what the Reptile had done. One part of me wanted him to go for Dorothy; the other hoped he wouldn’t. His head was snapping back and forth between the two of us. Then he made his decision.
He was after me!
I tore down the hill and did a sharp right turn. I had about a fifty-metre head start and I would need it. My plan was to go for that dinosaur. Plant-eater or not, it looked like help. It occurred to me, as I ran, that the Reptile hadn’t seemed surprised that there was a seventy-five-million-year-old beast the size of an oil tanker just standing around in the sand behind him. Maybe the Reptile knew something about it. Maybe he would tell me before he killed me.
I glanced back again. He was gaining on me.
As I finished my wide turn and came back up the hill at a different angle, the apatosaurus came into view again. And so did Dorothy. She was heading for it, too. I didn’t care now that we were going in the same direction. And neither did the Reptile. The three of us were in a straight line.
We hit lower ground and then it flattened out. I had to jump and twist and do all sorts of manoeuvres to get over the rough terrain, the dry riverbeds, and past the hoodoos, sitting there like ancient pillars.
The music grew louder. I gained on Dorothy. The Reptile gained on me. He started shouting and groaning. He seemed anxious to get to us before we got to the dinosaur.
Curiously, the apatosaurus didn’t turn to see us. Its head just kept going up and down, sort of rhythmically. Were we just too small to see? I wracked my brain to try to remember…were dinosaurs hard of hearing?
Soon I could almost touch Dorothy. Her arms were pumping at her sides, I could see the sweat on the back of her neck, and she was puffing like a steer. When I reached her she didn’t even turn to look at me. She just kept running, her eyes locked on that dinosaur. As we drew nearer, its size became absolutely awesome. I couldn’t believe there had ever been an animal like this. It was a whole building on feet.
But the dinosaur still didn’t look at us. Maybe it was the music, now so loud that we didn’t even bother to yell to each other. Where was it coming from?
I couldn’t hear the Reptile but I could feel him, within metres of us, reaching out. I arched my back and stretched my head forward, like a sprinter straining for the finishing line.
“Ahhhhhh!”
It was a high-pitched scream—from a girl. Dorothy was crying out like someone had shot her. And I could sense that she wasn’t running any more. I stopped and turned around. About twenty metres behind me, the Reptile had her by the neck, one huge hand just wrapped around it from behind the way someone might grasp a chicken. And he was squeezing. She looked at me, terrified.
He glared.
What was I to do? Should I yell? Would the dinosaur respond? Weren’t we still too far away? Or should I just run? The Reptile couldn’t chase both of us at once. I could be free. I could go for help.
I hesitated.
Those eyes kept glaring at me. I could see the swelling over his right eye where I had nailed him with the rock. He raised his free hand and extended his index finger and beckoned for me to come to him.
No way.
I started to turn in the opposite direction.
“AHHHHHHHH!”
The Reptile squeezed Dorothy’s neck like he was going to crush it in one hand. “STOP!” I shrieked.
He loosened his grip on her.
I walked slowly towards him, my shoulders slouching, my hands hanging down at my sides. When I reached the place where he was standing, his free hand snaked out and grabbed me, gripping me by the neck, too. He paused for a second, like a predator standing proudly over his prey. And then he started moving in the opposite direction from the dinosaur, almost dragging us along the sand. We didn’t say anything. And neither did he. We were exhausted, starving, and beaten. I barely even cared where he was taking us. I just wanted this to end.
Five minutes later, he pulled us up a hill. He was heading towards a cave.