Cretaceous Sea

pattern, she thought. She settled on three short notes followed by a pause and then one long note. She played it over and over until her frigid hands Shook too violently to make a steady tone. I've got to get out of the rain. Con sensed that getting this chilled was life-threatening. It would be hard to get even marginally warm in her meager shelter. Signaling from the hilltop would be a delicate balance between the hope of rescue and the threat of exposure. A miscalcu-lation would be fatal. Con envisioned herself dying from cold while signaling to no one. Then she imagined Rick and Joe walking by as she hunkered beneath the carcass. Each scenario was as frightening as it was probable. At the moment, the cold heavy rain made up her mind for her. It seemed to be doing its utmost to defeat her efforts. Con doubted if her notes carried far or that Rick or Joe would even be out in such weather. /

should eat something and try again when the rain lessens. She stum-bled downhill, cold and defeated, to get the tooth and cut some more meat. When she approached the Tyrannosaur, she noticed that some of its rib cage was exposed. It wasn't like that before! She was positive that part of the carcass had been untouched when she climbed the hill. Something else is eating it, too. She looked about warily into the gray rain. Nothing. Nevertheless, she was not reassured. Con quickly cut some meat from another part of the carcass, then retreated to her shelter. She bailed out the puddle on its floor with her hands, assured herself that the rock wall was intact, and removed her shirt before entering. Inside, she carefully stretched the tee shirt across the doorway. Then, she placed her rock and the Tyrannosaur tooth where they were readily at hand. Only then, did she eat. As she curled up half-naked in the mud, a bit of warmth returned to her. The racing metabolism that kept her constantly hungry also allowed her to warm up. Within half an hour, only her bare feet felt frigid. Now, she shivered only when she thought of what might be outside.

RICK AND JOE slogged by the riverbank in the gloomy half-light of noon. Despite wearing ponchos, they were wet and miserable. The rainfall had increased all morning until it fell in a near-blinding torrent. Everything more than twenty yards ahead was obscured. Still, they contin-ued, keeping tense eyes out for whatever the river had washed up. Both pretended they were looking for food. They were really looking for Con's body.

'I should have been the one to hold on to her,' said Joe in a low, sad voice. Rick reacted as if Joe had struck him. 'I didn't let go, goddamn it!'

'I was going to protect her ...'

'And I screwed up,' said Rick. 'Why don't you come out and say it.'

'She's gone, isn't she?'

'She let go of my hand to grab her shoe.'

'So that makes it okay,' said Joe bitterly. 'As long as it isn't your fault. . .'

'Is that what you think, Joe?' shouted Rick with anger and anguish. 'I loved her!'

'Love?' scoffed Joe. 'You only knew her a few days. You had the hots for her. That's not love.'

'How the hell would you know?' answered Rick.

'I'll tell you what love is,' said Joe. 'It's holding your baby girl for the first time and knowing the woman you adore is her mother.'

'Too bad you abandoned them to make drugs.'

Joe's face tensed with rage. He turned on the gun and flicked off the safety. 'I could kill you for that.'

'Go ahead,' said Rick. 'You think I care?' He strug-gled to keep from sobbing. 'Come on. Do it. Then I'll be with Con.'

As Joe watched Rick, the anger left his face to be re-placed by profound sorrow. He switched off the gun. 'I'm sorry, Rick. I'm so down, I'm talking shit.'

'I never met anyone like her, Joe. She was so damned brave and funny and smart and pretty. She was wonder- ful.'

Joe sighed deeply. 'She was something, all right.'

'I know she went down fighting.'

'No question about it,' said Joe. 'We'll find her and put her to rest.' They walked for a while in the gloom before Rick spoke again. 'Joe, I didn't mean it about...'

'I know your didn't,' said Joe. 'What made me mad was, in a way, you were right. I was so wrapped up in my company, I forgot to take care of them.' He shook his head dolefully. 'Yeah, I abandoned them.' The shape of a mangled duckbilled dinosaur, washed up by the river, loomed out of the rain. A nightstalker was feeding off the carcass. Joe raised the gun and fired. The little carnivore tumbled into the river. Rick ran to fetch it before the current swept it away. When he re-turned, Joe looked at the dead animal with undisguised disgust.

'Filthy creature,' said Joe.