THE FLORIDA CITY BUSES RAN THROUGH THE NIGHT. Though he had only been in town for a week, Emmet studied the routes on a map at school and knew the bus that would drop him off within walking distance of the park. He wasn’t sure exactly how he’d get inside. But he’d come this far. The rest of it … he would just have to figure it out when he got there.

On their first day in Florida, when Emmet and his dad followed Dr. Geaux to the park, she drove them through a separate entrance, about a mile away from the main gate. There lay the facility storing the dead archosaur, and behind it, the path that led to the docks. That was Emmet’s destination. He didn’t want to run into any media, protestors, or other commotion at the main entrance, even though there was likely to be little going on this early in the morning. Besides, he was willing to bet Dr. Geaux’s entrance would be less guarded and easier to talk his way into.

When he approached the gate from the road he couldn’t believe his luck. There was nobody stationed there. You needed a special card to raise the gate. Dr. Geaux probably figured it was better to put rangers out on search parties than keeping them back here at the gate, where no one was likely to get in, anyway. He started to feel good for the first time in a while, like maybe this was going to work.

As he walked closer to the entrance, the realization that he hadn’t thought this all the way through smacked him in the head. The gate was at least ten feet high, and the surface was smooth. The walls rose up on either side of the gate, making them taller yet; at least twelve feet high. But he had come this far, and he wasn’t going to give up easily.

Emmet was about five and a half feet tall. He wouldn’t be able to jump and reach the top. He tried not to let the sense of dejection take over, but it was hard not to. Then he spotted the trash can a few yards down the road. If he used it like a makeshift stepladder … it would still leave him a little short from the top … but it might give him just enough lift to reach the top. A few weeks ago he’d been snowboarding in Montana and his legs were still in pretty good shape. If he took a running start and used the can as a launching pad, he could probably grab the top and scramble over.

Probably.

He retrieved the trash can and turned it upside down up against the gate. If someone came along and saw it there, he hoped they wouldn’t put two and two together. Maybe they’d think the wind blew it off the road.

Emmet backed up and took a deep breath. He ran as hard as he could toward the trash can, then jumped up and pushed off against the bottom of it. For a moment, it looked like it was going to work. Until all of a sudden the gate was swinging open while he was still in midair.

Emmet had planned for almost everything. Just not Calvin.