Tracey shook her head.
“Me neither. Nervous?”
“Terrified. You?”
“A mixture of nervous and excited. What made you want to go into paleontology?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Marcy shrugged her shoulders. “Why? It’s so interesting. I bet you’d never thought it’d lead you here.”
“You got that right.” Tracey saw that Marcy wasn’t going to let it drop, and her interest seemed sincere. “I always loved dinosaurs since I was a little kid. When I was three, I was able to identify them by genus, species, and period.”
Marcy giggled. “Holy crap. You read about dinosaurs at three? That’s impressive.”
Tracey shook her head, and a wistful smile crept onto her face. “No, my dad read it to me, repeatedly, because I asked him to.”
“Is he proud that you became a paleontologist?”
Tracey smiled. “He told me he’d be proud of me no matter what I’d become because he knew I’d become something great.”
Marcy slipped her arm, bent at the elbow, under her head as a pillow. “Your dad sounds cool.”
“He is. How about you? How does a data analyst end up in a situation like this?”
“Data engineer.”
“Oh, sorry. Data engineer.”
Marcy smiled and shrugged. “I was always good with computers, and I’m super organized. It seemed like a good fit, and the pay isn’t bad either.”
Tracey smirked. “Pays better than a paleontologist. That’s for sure.”
The smile faded from Marcy’s face, and she bit her bottom lip. “Is that why you signed on? For the money?”
Tracey sighed. “To be honest, it was a major factor the first time around. That and the adventure of it all. Now, I’m doing it for another reason.”
“Dr. Albanese?”
“Yeah, but that’s only part of it. The first time, I wasn’t very principled or heroic. In fact, I was kind of a coward.”
“So, you want to prove to yourself that you’re not a coward?”
“Yeah, but it’s not just about the dangers and pitfalls of the island.”
Marcy shimmied closer and her eyes widened. “So, it is Dr. Albanese.” She chuckled and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound.
Tracey now realized that Marcy was a bit younger than her. She figured she was in her mid-twenties or so. “I had a good guy right in front of me, someone with whom I shared so much in common, and I was afraid to open up to him.”
Marcy reached out and touched Tracey on the hand. “I haven’t met someone like that yet. I didn’t even start to date till the end of college. Grad school was a big commitment, so there wasn’t much dating there.”
Tracey smiled. This girl sounded like one of her students back at the university. She decided she was starting to like Marcy. “Same here. I didn’t start dating until after grad school, but then I was travelling to dig sites…there just wasn’t the time. On top of that, try finding a guy who understands what I do, let alone finds it interesting. It was always an empty spot in my life. I had accomplished so much, yet I was lonely.”
Marcy arched an eyebrow. “So, did you and Dr. Albanese…?”
“Peter? Oh, no.” Tracey chuckled. “I think he always wanted to ask, but… I don’t know. The thought of dating a friend and co-worker was…daunting.”
“Girl, you are a coward.”
They shared a stifled chortle.
“We need to get our rest for tomorrow,” said Tracey. “I have to keep my eyes peeled for carnivorous dinosaurs.”
“And Dr. Albanese,” added Marcy. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Tracey rolled over and closed her eyes.
* * *
Peter awoke, his vision blurry and his head pounding. His back was killing him, and as he got his bearings, he realized he was lying on a hard surface. He reached out and felt smooth stone beneath him. As his vision adjusted, he realized that he was in a dark room illuminated only by a red crystal orb embedded in the wall.
So much for being treated like a god. He sat up, fighting back a wave of nausea, realizing that he was likely concussed and definitely dehydrated. He closed his eyes for a moment, reached into himself for his special healing power, and allowed it to wash over him. When he opened his eyes again, the pain and nausea was gone.
He pushed himself to standing and saw that he was in a twenty by twenty-foot stone room that was sealed off by an iron gate. The entire room was cast in a red hue due to the crystal illumination. Peter wondered if the crystal was only for light. He stepped forward, gripped the bars, and peeked outside.
A reptilian guard clutching a crude spear patrolled the hallway. Peter figured he was in some kind of dungeon cell. He wondered what had gone wrong upstairs. They hadn’t killed him outright, but he was being held prisoner. He thought back to the thinking lizard and the images projected within his mind, the historical record. What did he see that maybe he wasn’t supposed to see? He wondered why he was being kept alive. Was it for interrogation? Would there be torture?
He heard sounds coming from somewhere down the hallway, and four guards marched down toward his cell. Peter dashed back toward his corner where he had been left, and sat with his back leaning against the wall. When the guards stopped in front of his cell, he rubbed his head and moaned, playing up his injuries.
One guard produced a large iron key and unlocked the iron gate. It swung outward, and three of the guards entered his cell. Two of them flanked him, pointing their spear tips at his chest. The third held a bag. It gestured for Peter to rise with its three clawed hand, eyeing him with those cold, black eyes.
Peter appeared to struggle to stand,
