'Most likely,' said Rick.
'All she's had was a muffin and a half,' said Joe. 'That was stupid on our part. We've got to keep her fed.'
'Well, let's get this cooked,' said Rick. He walked over to Con and gently shook her. 'Joe's brought some dinner.'
Con looked sleepy at first, but the idea of food soon had her wide-awake. She and Joe waded to the shore. There Con put her shoes back on to protect her feet from smoldering embers. Meanwhile, Rick searched the river for a branch to use as a poker. When he found one, he joined Joe and Con by a still-burning tree. Joe used the gun to cut the tree into logs that Rick then pushed together. Soon they had a healthy blaze going. Rick took out his knife and cut the leg at the knee joint, then skinned the two pieces.
'Garcon,' said Con, 'may I see ze menu?'
'Ah, Mademoiselle,' replied Rick, 'perhaps you would care to hear ze specials first.'
'But of course,' replied Con.
'Tonight we feature ze Hypsilophodontid ala carboniza-tion.'
'Stop there. That's my favorite.'
'And how do you prefer your Hypsilophodontid? Medium, rare, or well-done?' Con looked at the two bloody chunks of flesh, and quickly said, 'Well-done. Very well done.' Joe dug a flashlight out of his duffel bag. 'While you two yack, I'm going to check on the plane.' He switched on the light and headed into the darkness.
As soon as Joe mentioned the plane, a pall came over Con and Rick's banter. Escaping the fire and finding food would mean little without the plane. It seemed impossible it could have survived the fire. They feared Joe's investigation was merely a formality, and he would soon be back to confirm the worst. Rick tried to concentrate on cooking. He poked the fire until he had a pile of glowing embers, then placed the meat upon them. It hissed, and the smell of burnt flesh rose into the air.
Joe rushed into the light of the fire shouting, 'The plane's fine! The plane's fine!' He gave Rick a bear hug, then lifted Con up and whirled her around. Every aspect of his grimy face was a picture of absolute bliss.
'It's more than fine. It looks untouched, like it's brand-new! Thank God for such a plane!' Rick tested the roasting meat and declared it ready for a celebration. Joe and Rick found a large, flat stone in the dry riverbed to serve both as dining table and serving plate. They carried it over to the fire; then Rick placed the two pieces of blackened limb upon it. Rick passed his knife around and each cut away strips of meat. The meal that followed was more festive than any served at the dining pavilion. The charred dinosaur meat, tough and unseasoned, seemed like a feast to all. The warm bottled water was appreciated more than Peter Green's chilled champagne.
Joe grinned as he watched Con eat ravenously. 'Take your time, Con, no one's going to steal it from you.'
Con smiled back as she chewed.
'This reminds me of camping with Tom,' said Rick.
Joe chuckled. 'Must have been a hell of a childhood.'
'I know it sounds crazy,' replied Rick, 'but right now, I feel good. We've been through a lot, and now it's going to start getting better.'
'I certainly hope so,' said Joe
'There are parts of the world untouched by the impact. Sure, it'll get dark and cold there, too, and the acid rain will fall there also, but it won't be like here. There will be unburnt wood for fuel, tools, and shelter.'
'How about food?' asked Con.
'There'll be food, too.'
'And how do we get to this paradise?' asked Joe.
'The route will depend on the plane,' replied Rick. 'How far can we get on its batteries before it needs to recharge?'
