Shortly before nightfall, they came upon an abandoned government army base by the path. The walls were of green metal, scratched and dented. The windows were busted. By the side of the building, there was an old, crumpled radio tower on a base of moss-covered concrete.
Though it was creepy, they decided to stay there overnight. They went inside. All of the furniture was broken, and there were leaves on the floor.
Bntno explained that, not to worry, it was probably a base where the army had conducted research on the dinosaurs of the hills, or had blocked the approach of the lizard people of Odessa Heights.
Suddenly, Lily didn’t have a very good feeling.
They spread out their sleeping bags. Jasper and Lily went out to collect firewood while Katie stayed inside, struggling with the soft-drink machine, whacking the broad plastic buttons and loudly demanding the final few rusting cans of Dr Pepper.
They lit a fire outside. They ate lentil stew and black bread. Insects sang all around them.
Lily was frightened of the dark that night. She was embarrassed, but she couldn’t help looking into the shadows and seeing strange shapes. “By dinosaurs,” said Lily, “do you mean big lizards?”
“Dinosaurs,” Bntno said. “Yes? Tyranno-saurus. Ankylosaurus. Stegosaurus.”
“Not extinct?” Lily asked.
“Not in Delaware. Live still in Delaware.”
“Great,” said Katie, chewing irritably. “Dinosaurs. Surviving here. Just had to, didn’t they?” She protested grumpily, “It’s ridiculous. The tyrannosaurus and stegosaurus don’t even come from the same, like, period. The tyrannosaurus is from the Cretaceous period and the stegosaurus is the Jurassic or something.”
Jasper was clearly impressed. “Katie,” he said, “I didn’t realize you knew so much about dinosaurs.”
“Yeah,” said Katie resentfully. “I had to redo a class project on them when I was in fifth grade. They asked us to make a model of a dinosaur, so I made one by covering one of my old Star-Wonder Glitter-Ponies with clay. You know, I gave him wings and stuff. The teacher didn’t like it because he said there wasn’t a real dinosaur that had wings and four legs. And a pink-and-blue sparkly mane. He gave me a D minus and said it was a sad day for paleontology.”
“I’m worried about the dinosaurs,” Lily said.
“Oh,” said Bntno, smiling broadly, “do not fear dinosaurs tonight. They do not come here. Not a thing where you should be afraid of.” Bntno squinted up into the foothills. “Lively children,” he said, “will you turn your eyes toward those lights?”
They looked where he pointed. Far, far away—several miles—there were lights in the hills.
“Now there, you be afraid. See? Fires,” said Bntno. “The Kangaroo-Riders of Armstrong. Cannibals. Very bad. Very bad peoples.”
“Cannibals?” said Katie.
“If they catches you, excellent girl, yes, you are cooked in tinfoils, with tomato and cilantro.”
“Dastards,” Jasper whispered. “I cannot stand cilantro.”
Lily was eager to change the subject. Luckily, Katie said, “Hey, Jas, is there anything to drink in your extra backpack here?”
Lily asked her, “Didn’t you, um, have any luck with the drink machine?”
Grim-faced, Katie held out two old, grimy bottles of Tyrant Splash. “So do you have anything else to drink?” she asked. “I’m getting thirsty. I heart carbonation.”
“In the backpack?” said Jasper. “No. Nothing.”
“It’s heavy,” said Katie.
Jasper was flustered. “Katie, I’m terribly sorry I let you carry it. It’s my extra bag and I should—”
“That’s fine, Jas,” said Katie, shrugging.
“No!” said Bntno suddenly. “No, thirsty girl. Me. I will carry it tomorrow. In the excellent Old World charm of Delaware, we say, the little lady shoulds never be carry the heavy bag. In our excellent Old World charm, we say the little lady, she shoulds just bake corn, lie hammock, paint her eyebrow—”
“Thanks for the offer. But first, I’m not a ‘little lady.’ And second, I have more than one eyebrow. And third—”
“No, no, defiant youngster,” Bntno insisted. “I will carry this other bag.”
“I love carrying the extra bag,” said Katie. “But I happen to be tired and thirsty, that’s all.”
“Perhaps,” said Jasper shyly, “you would like some Gargletine Instant Breakfast Drink?”
Katie fixed him with a long, level stare. Gargle-tine™ caused hysteria in lab rats and took the brown off horses. “Maybe not,” said Katie. “But thanks.”
“Okay,” said Bntno, “if the little girl does not want me to carry the bag…”
Katie was in no mood to be called a “little girl.” She was about to stand up to her full height and give him a piece of her mind when, off in the jungle, they heard a distant roar, some miles away, like a monstrous promise for tomorrow.
They stopped talking. The roaring in the distance faded.
They looked nervously at each other. They suddenly didn’t have much to say. After that, they all soon went to bed.
That night, none of the three kids could sleep. Bntno kept muttering in his dreams. Every time one of them almost dropped off, they thought they heard something outside the compound. Things moved through the shrubberies.
It was only as dawn came that they fell asleep, Jasper with his ray gun cradled by his cheek.
At nine, they got up and packed their sleeping bags. Katie was still determined to get something fizzy to drink out of the old vending machine. Lily got the feeling that Katie’s anger at the machine was somewhat personal. Katie went around and collected everyone’s change and stood in front of the machine, feeding it coins, slapping its sides, and yelling at it. When Katie had run through everyone’s change, she went outside where the others were waiting. They looked solemn and wary. She looked frustrated.
“Did you get anything out of the machine?” Jasper asked.
“A rodent,” she said miserably. “I think it was a capybara.”
“Someone was here last night,” said Lily. She pointed at the ground. There were footprints from a pair of men’s boots in the soft, black dirt. They circled the building. There were many of them just outside the shattered window of the room where the four travelers had slept—as if someone had crouched there a long while, shifting position carefully—listening through the night.