Jurassic Park: A dinosaur-style theme park... what could possibly go wrong? Join seventeen year old James Hammond and his twenty-one year sister, Kara, as they embark on the adventure of a life time along side Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler, and try to help their grandfather get his theme park off of the ground. But with real life dinosaurs... things are obviously going to go wrong.
Friday, April 23rd, 1993: Isla Nublar
120 miles west of Costa Rica
The early morning of April 23rd was dark, wet and dingy; the trees rattled, thudded against each other and shook, as a dark-skinned man, dressed in luminescent overalls, stared up at the trees. About ten men stood behind him, all armed with taser, and one of them was chewing gum; all eleven of them looked determined - and for good reason; they knew that their lives were on the line as Kara Hammond - John Hammond's eldest granddaughter, who was currently on sight as his representative - would skin them alive if anything went wrong.
Robert Muldoon - the game warden of Jurassic Park - who was a burly fifty year old man dressed in khakis, with deep blue eyes and a steel gray mustache - stood behind them all, a M72 LAW in his hands; he cocked it and readied himself for what he knew would be one very long and difficult night, though he had no idea just how difficult it would actually be.
A large silver cage, completed barred - except for little tiny holes in between - was pushed through the trees by a forklift; with a gentle bump - which made Muldoon, who knew what was inside the cage, wince - it landed on the ground.
"Get this cage moving!" called Muldoon, and several men ran forward. "I want tasers on full charge!"
As they gripped the cage, the thing inside screeched and they backed away; Muldoon ordered them back to her post as a woman aged twenty, watched from nearby.
"Now, push!" cried Muldoon; the men began to push the cage forward. It reached the edge of the enclosure and the red light went to green as the cage and enclosure connected; Muldoon called "Good, now step away!" and the men, glad to be away from the cage, retreated backwards.
"Gate keeper!" called Muldoon and the gate keeper, Jophery, the dark skinned man from before, moved forward, climbed onto the top of the cage, crouched and gripped the top of the gates. "Jophery, open the gates!"
He lifted the front of the cage and the thing inside seized it's chance. It jerked backwards, sending the cage shooting backwards about a foot and sending Jophery tumbling to the floor; several men ran forward, in an attempt to stop the cage, but were buffetted backwards.
Jophery landed on the floor and was immediately gripped by the animal in the cage; it, screeching like something incredibly savage, began to pull him back; the woman wrinkled her nose and put a cross next to his name on the clipboard as Muldoon raced forward to try and rescue Jophery.
Jophery grabbed the edge of the cage, but soon lost his grip and Muldoon grabbed him around the chest and began to pull in the opposite direction to the thing inside the cage.
The creature inside the cage pulled, Jophery was hauled into the air and Muldoon was thrown against the wall; he sooned regained himself, regrabbed Jophery and began to pull; the men began firing taser into the cage at the creature.
"Shoot her!" cried Muldoon, still pulling on Jophery "Have at her!"; inside the cage, the creature's eye locked with Muldoon's and both pulled harder.
"SHOOT HER!" hollered Muldoon as Jophery's hand began opening and closing, and, as Muldoon cried "SHOOOOOT HER!"again, his hand slipped free of Muldoon's grasp and he was pulled into the cage, where he was promptly devoured.
Mano de Dios Amber Mine: Thursday, June 3rd, 1993
Donald Gennaro, aged forty, wearing a city man's idea of hiking clothes and with a hundred dollar haircut, arrived on a floating raft.
"Hola, Juanito." he greeted, holding out a hand; Juanito Rostagno, who took his hand to help him off the floating raft on which he was stood, was the proprietor of the Mano de Dios Amber Mine, which actually meant 'Hand of God'; thirty-ish and Costa Rican, Juanito was a smart-looking guy in workers clothes.
"Hola, Bienvenido." he replied.
"What's this I hear at the airport?" asked Gennaro, immediately getting to the point of the conversation and not beating around the bush like some people would do. "Hammond's not here?"
"He sends his apologies." Juanito informed Gennaro, as he headed back towards the mine.
"We are facing a $20 million lawsuit by the family of that worker," stated Gennaro, annoyed, as he trotted, rather ungainly, after Juanito. "And you're telling me that Hammond can't even bother to see me!"
"He had to leave early; he wants to be with his daughter," replied Juanito "She's getting a divorce."
"Well, I understand that," Gennaro acknowledged. "But we've been advised to deal with the situation now. The Insurance Company-"
Gennaro's shoes - a rather disgusting shade of orange - slipped on the slightly damp stone and he tumbled forward; it was only through Juanito turning and helping him up, asking "Okay?" in the process, that prevented him from smashing his head into the ground.
"The underwriters feel that the accident has raised some very serious safety questions about the park." continued Gennaro. "That makes the investors very, very anxious. I had to promise to conduct a very thorough on-site inspection."
"Hammond hates inspections," noted Juanito, stopping. "They slow everything down."
"Juanito, they'll pull the funding." Gennaro informed him "That'll slow him down more."
A man had approached, after Gennaro had said the word funding, and was chatting, rather excitedly, in another language that Gennaro could not understand; Juanito followed him to the entrance to the mine.
"Ooh! Aaah!" Gennaro knocked his head against the top of the entrance to the mine as he followed Juanito in.
"Watch your head," called a woman; this woman was Kara Hammond, now aged twenty one, who had been involved in the incident Gennaro was referring too. Kara was tall and curvy with long brown hair and blue eyes; she was dressed in a long white overcoat, a black shirt, black trousers and black shoes all of which were covered in dust from the mine. As she looked down at the clipboard in front of her, which had different sets of information about different sets of amber on it, a pair of glasses - which she didn't need and only wore to look more professional - slipped down her nose. She took them off, wiped the dust off them with her sleeve and put them back on, pushing them up with one long, thin, dusty and mud coated finger.
"If two experts sign off on the island, the insurance guys will back off." stated Gennaro, noting her presence. "I've already got Ian Malcolm, but they think he's too trendy. They want Alan Grant."
From inside a tunnel near Kara, a male voice cried "Ow!" as there was a thud from inside the tunnel and the voice continued, "I must be doing deaf - I'm sure he just said Alan Grant."
One of the miners handed Juanito a rock of amber; Juanito, taking the amber off the miner said. "Grant? Ha! You'll never get him out of Montana."
"Why not?" questioned Gennaro in reply; when Juanito did not answer, and moved aside to let a shaft of light shine on the amber, Gennaro asked "Why not?" again.
"Because Grant's like me." Juanito stated, holding up the sparkling amber. "He's a digger."
The person from the tunnel emerged; it was a tall skinny boy with shoulder length brown hair, which was coated with dust, and brown eyes which were behind a pair of goggles that were strapped over his face and he, like Kara, was dressed entirely in black with a lab coat over the top. Straightening up, he brushed himself down for a moment and, along with Kara, moved to Juanito's side. He looked up to Kara and said "How's that for a birthday present, sis?" as he placed a hand onto her shoulder "Happy twenty first!"
The Next Day: Friday, June 4th, 1993
Near Snakewater, Montana
In the dig site near Snakewater Montana itself, the ground was checkered with excavations everywhere. There was a base camp with five or six teepees, a flapping mess tent, a few cards, a flatbed truck with wrapped fossils loaded on it, and a mobile home. There were a dozen volunteers of all ages at work in various places around the dig. The Volunteers were from all walks of life, but all of them were dinosaur buffs. Three or four of them had children with them, and the kids ran around, like in a giant sandbox.
"Doctor Grant, Doctor Sattler, we're ready to try again." called one of the men from the flapping mess tent as he reached the top of the hill where they were working.
Doctor Alan Grant, a ragged-looking guy with intense concentration you wouldn't want to get in the way of in his mid thirties stood up, sighing, as he moaned "I hate computers."
Ellie Sattler, in her late twenties, was athletic-looking. There was an impatience about Ellie, as if nothing in life happened quite fast enough for her and she longed for adventure. She, as was well known, was the lover of Alan. She stood up, and tied the red bandana around Alan's neck.
"The feeling's mutual." she assured him; she put an arm around him, and he put an arm around her. Together, in the blistering heat, the two of them trudged their was down to the flapping mess tent. As they arrived at the tent, two men clambered onto a machine, inserted a small blast grenade into the machine and slammed the two ends together; the device in the middle shot downwards and the blast grenade exploded as it entered the ground, sending radar under the ground.
Alan watched it and then, with Ellie by his side, moved to the computer that would pick up the radar signals.
"How long does this usually take?" inquired Ellie, standing behind the man who was sat at the computer.
"Should give an immediate return." he replied, staring up at the screen. "Shoot the radar into the ground and the bone bounces the image back." The image began to appear on the screen "This read out's incredible! A few more years development and we won't even have to dig anymore."
"Where's the fun in that?" inquired Alan, who was leaning on one of the wooden poles of the flapping mess tent.
"It's a little distorted," said the man sat at the computer. "But I think that's the computer."
Ellie looked at the screen; almost instantly, she recognised the creature on the screen and asked "Velociraptor?"
"Yeah," agreed Alan, moving forward. "Good shape too. Five or six feet high, I'm guessing nine feet long. Look at the-"
He was cut off as his finger touched the screen and it fizzed, going to static for a moment, before reshowing the image; the man on the computer looked to Ellie and asked "What did he do?"
"He touched it!" laughed Ellie playfully, as Alan put his hand onto the top of the computer, which made it fizz to static again "Doctor Grant's not machine compatible."
"They've got it in for me." Alan agreed, before pointing to the feet of the Velociraptor "Look at the half-moon shaped bone in the wrist. No wonder these guys learned to fly!" the group laughed, leaving Alan surprised "Now, seriously. Show of the hands. How many of you have read my book?" only two people - namely Ellie, and the man sat at the computer - raised their hands. Alan sighed "Great. Well maybe dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds than reptiles. Look at the pubic bone - it's turned backwards, just like a bird. The vertebrae - - full of hollows and air sacs, just like a bird. Even the word raptor means "bird of prey"."
"That doesn't look very scary!" came a voice from nearby "More like a six foot turkey."
Everyone drew in their breath and stepped aside, revealing a obese twelve year old kid, standing alone. Alan turned to the Kid, lowered his sunglasses, and stared at him like he just came from another planet, giving him a glare that, if looks could kill, would. He strolled over to the kid and put his arms around his shoulders in a friendly way.
"Try to imagine yourself in the Cretaceous Period," began Alan, to the boy (Rolling her eyes, Ellie muttered "Here we go" under her breath) "You'd get your first look at the six-foot turkey as you move into a clearing. But the raptor, he knew you were there a long time ago. He moves like a bird; lightly, bobbing his head, And you keep still, because you think maybe his visual acuity's based on movement, like a T- rex, and he'll lose you if you don't move. But no. Not Velociraptor. You stare at him, and he just stares back. That's when the attack comes - not from the front, but from the side, from the other two raptors you didn't even know were there."
Alan began to circle the kid, still talking as he did so "Velociraptor's a pack hunter, you see, he uses coordinated attack patterns, and he's out in force today. And he slashes at you with this -" Alan held a raptor claw between his fingers and held it up so the boy could see it; his face went pale and he gulped, nervously, as Alan continued "A six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe. They don't bother to bite the jugular, like a lion, they just slash here, here -" he moved the claw quickly through the air in front of the boy's chest and thigh "- or maybe across the belly," he moved the raptor claw gently across the boy's immensely round midsection. "spilling your intestines. Point is, you're alive when they start to eat you. Whole thing took about four seconds. So, you know, try to show a little respect."
"Ok." breathed the boy, anxiously, examining himself for wounds as Alan headed back across the camp, returning to his skeleton. Ellie hurried to catch up with him.
"You know, if you really wanted to scare the kid you could've just pulled a gun on him," she stated, as she caught up with him.
He sighed, removing his hat from his head before saying "Yeah, I know. Anyway... kids! You want to have one of those?"
"I don't want that kid!" replied Ellie, gesturing in the direction of the kid. "But a breed of child, Doctor Grant, could be intriguing. I mean, what's so wrong with kids?"
"Oh, Ellie, look." replied Alan, beginning to count off the reasons on his hand. "They're noisy, they're messy, they're sticky, they're expensive."
"Cheap, cheap, cheap!" taunted Ellie under her breath.
"They smell." added Alan.
"They do not smell!" Ellie snapped, looking up at him.
"Some of them smell!" he retorted. "Babies smell!"
And... with that, he considered the arguement won. He didn't really have much choice for a strange wind seemed to be whipping up. He and Ellie looked around, confused. The wind was getting stronger, blowing dirt and sand everywhere, filling in everything they'd dug out, blowing the protective canvasses off. Then there was a more familiar roar, and they looked up and saw it -
- a huge helicopter, descending on the camp.
"Get some canvasses and cover anything that's exposed!" cried Ellie, as she and Alan ran down the hill towards the helicopter.
Down at the base camp, the helicopter had landed. The pilot was already out, waiting as Alan came down from the mountaintop like Moses, steaming angrily as he gestured wildly at him to turn the chopper off. The pilot pointed timidly to a mobile home across the camp. Alan ran to the trailer.
The door to the trailer burst open, clunking behind Alan as it swung on the hinges.
The trailer served as the dig's office. There were several long wooden tables set up, every inch covered with bone specimens that were neatly laid out, tagged, and labelled. Farther along were ceramic dishes and crocks, soaking other bones in acid and vinegar. There was old dusty furniture at one end of the trailer, and a refrigerator; an old man dressed in white was washing up a cup, while a teen, bottom in the air, was rummaging around in the fridge.
"Ooh!" he began "Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Grand Cru, from Cote de Nuits, France. This stuff's expensive - most expensive in the world, actually. How'd an archeologist afford this on their salary? Hey, grandpa, will this do?" he handed the bottle to the old man, who began to pull on the cork.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
The old man whirled around and popped the cork; the teen cried "OW!" as his head smashed against the top of the fridge "For the love of Kara's underwear, that hurt!"; the cork soared over the head of the Alan, ricocheted off of the wall and flew out of the open window where it landed in a metallic water collecter.
"Good shot!" complimented the teen; the old man, John Hammond, aged sixty five, was sprightly as hell, with bright, shining eyes that said "Follow me!"
"Hey!" exclaimed Alan "We were saving that!"
"For today, I guarantee it."
"Who in god's name do you think you are?" inquired Alan, pointing a finger at Hammond's chest as he took the bottle of wine from him.
"John Hammond." Replied Hammond, shaking the finger pleasantly, as if being threatened by a very scary and very angry archeologist happened to him every day "And I'm delighted to meet you finally in person, Doctor Grant." He blew some dust off of his hand "And this," he gestured to the teen "is my eldest grandson - James."
"Mr H-?" muttered Alan.
"Still, I can see my fifty thousand a year has been well spent!"
The door burst open with another clatter. Ellie, looking furious, leaped the stairs in one go, and cried "Ok, who's the jerk?"
"Uh," began Alan, putting out a hand to grab Ellie's arm "This is our paleobotanist, Doctor-"
"-Sattler." she introduced herself.
"Ellie, this is Mr Hammond." Alan informed her.
She, disbelievingly, moved forward and shook his hand as Hammond said "Sorry about our dramatic entrance, Doctor Sattler, but we're in a bit of a hurry. Will you have a drink? We don't want it to get warm - come on, sit down. No, no, I can manage that Jimmy, just go and sit down - honestly, why do you and your sister think I am useless in the kitchen?"
Hammond pulled out four glasses and poured the wine into the glasses, as he continued speaking "Now, I'll get right to the point. I like you - both of you. I can tell instantly about people; it's a gift. I have an island, off the coast of Costa Rica; I've leased it from the Government and I've spent the last five years - with the help of Jimmy and his sister, of course - setting up a kind of biological preserve. Really spectacular - spared no expense; makes the one I've got down in Kenya look like a petting zoo. And there's no doubt... our attractions will drive kids out of their minds."
"And what are those?"
"Small versions of adults, honey." Whispered Ellie in reply; she got a dirty look from Alan for her efforts.
"And not just kids," began Hammond again, as if he hadn't even heard Alan's question "Everyone. We're going to open next year - that is, if the lawyers don't kill me first -I don't care for lawyers. You?"
"Oh, uh, we don't really know any." chorused Alan and Ellie together.
"Lucky." Muttered James, downing the glass of wine that Hammond put down in front of him.
"Well, I do." Noted Hammond, "There's one, a particular pebble in my shoe. He represents my investors. He says they insist on outside opinions."
"What kind of opinions?" Inquired Ellie.
"Well, your kind, not to put a fine point on it. Let's face it, in your particular field, you're the top minds. If I could just get you two to sign off on the park - you know, give a wee testimonial - I could get back on schedule."
"Why would they care what we think?" wondered Ellie, aloud.
"What kind of park is it?" Alan asked.
Hammond placed another two drinks in front of his grandson, only just noticing the other one was empty; turning to Alan, he said "Well, it's - it's right up your alley." He handed Grant a drink after getting out another glass "Look, why don't you pair of you down for the weekend? Love to have the opinion of a paleobotoanist as well." This time, he handed Ellie a drink. "I've got a jet standing by at Choteau." He jumped up and sat on the counter as James murmured "Bananas... he he... walking bananas with cream pies. Walking bananas in hula skirts with cream pies! He he!"
"No, I'm sorry, that wouldn't be possible." replied Alan, giving James a strange look, "We've just discovered a new skeleton, and-"
"I could compensate you by fully funding your dig." Hammond informed them, as he poured a drink for himself.
"- This would be an awfully unusual time - " started Ellie and Alan.
"For a further three years." Added Hammond.
"Well," began Ellie, as she clinked her glass against Alan's.
He finished her question for her "Where's the plane?"
He, Ellie and Hammond all clinked their cups together and Alan and Ellie hugged; James cried "Bananas!" and toppled backwards off of his chair as he too, tried to clink his glass against Ellie.
"Ignore him." Hammond began, glancing down to his grandson. "He'll be fine."
To Be Continued.