Up ahead, the structure ends abruptly several yards over the fence. “Oh great,” she says. She looks back, the dinosaur jumping from the building onto the structure.

Running along the center of the concrete path is a six inch high concrete rise, and Anne keeps alongside it. Behind her, the dinosaur tries to balance on it with one foot, while trying to keep its other foot on the lower ground.

Soon it gives up, and begins moving over slightly to level itself on the lower concrete. Anne turns around, now directly above the fence. She grips the bar tight, planning her attack.

She hopes to knock the dinosaur over the edge on the building side of the fence, so she can jump off the unfinished end to escape.

The dinosaur nears, snarling. It begins running faster, and leaps. Its claws extend; flying out front, its legs held high in the air. She hurls the bar like a javelin, landing it straight in the underside of the dinosaur’s neck. It’s caught off guard—dropping just short a few feet from Anne.

Its foot lands on the concrete, sliding off in the opposite direction. The dinosaur trips, landing on its side. It snarls, and Anne runs close to grab the bar, which has begun to roll off the side.

Anne feels something hit her leg, and she flips, falling onto the concrete. The bar slips, and lands on the concrete with a clang, beginning to roll towards the edge once more.

She reaches for it, seeing the dinosaur flailing to get up from its odd position. Her fingers wrap around it, and she pulls herself up.

She flips the bar in her hands, and smacks the dinosaur’s chest. It shrieks, and Anne backs off instinctively. She starts to go for it again, when the dinosaur gets up.

It raises its claws, walking forward. It hisses, watching Anne, waiting for her next attack. Anne swings, but this time the dinosaur ducks. Anne spins, nearly falling to the ground at the unexpected dodge.

She falls towards the edge, ready to fall on the wrong side of the fence. The dinosaur behind her darts forward, but she regains her balance, and moves.

It stops itself at the edge, spinning to attack, but Anne swings. The bar collides with the dinosaur’s face, only an inch from its eye, and it goes over the edge.

She hears the scrape of claws as the dinosaur tries to keep falling. Anne moves to the edge, as the dinosaur disappears over the side.

She smiles, as it hits the ground below with a thud. It lies on its side, curled up. She grips the bar, watching as it slowly gets up, looking around.

“Yeah,” Anne says. “Like that?”

The dinosaur stands, turning in circles, looking up at her. It snarls, and jumps. Anne takes a step back, as its head appears slightly over the edge. It snaps, trying to get her, and Anne raises the bar.

Forget it Anne. Time to go.

She turns, and begins running down the structure once more. She passes over the fence, where the dinosaur is forced to stop, after following her. She stops at the edge, looking down.

She takes a breath, and jumps. She lands on her knees, feeling a slight jolt of pain. After a moment she gets up, listening to the dinosaur snarling and hissing. It claws at the wood, trying to get to her. The fence shakes, and Anne starts to run.

All around her now is forest, trees spread out in different areas. She stops cold, as she hears the faint caws of the dinosaur. She turns, staring at the fence.

The dinosaur continues to caw, frantically. “What’s it doing?”

Anne listens, silently, as the dinosaur continues to caw. Then her heart freezes. Somewhere in the forest around her there is an answering caw.

From her side of the fence.

“Oh no,” she whispers.

Still holding the bar, she begins to run straight—away from the fence. To her right she hears a hiss, and turns her head to look. Something’s coming.

From up ahead she hears another snarl. She’s running into a trap.

Anne spins left, and darts into the forest. She throws herself up against a tree, letting go of the bar to grab a thick branch. She pulls herself up, doubling over on the branch as she pulls.

She gets footing on the branch, reaching for a higher branch. As she pulls, she hears the fence rattle again as the dinosaur pounds it. As she reaches for the next branch, she glances at the fence, to see that the dinosaur was poking its head through the hole it had made earlier with its foot.

She looks down. She’s pretty high up, but she continues anyway. Somewhere around her there is another snarl, and she finally stops. Anne is covered in the foliage, only her legs dangling into view. She pulls them up, using another branch for support.

Only if someone—or something—was to directly look up from the base of the tree would they be able to see her. She hoped nothing would.

Gripping another branch with her left hand, she uses her right hand to part open the foliage. She sees the fence, and hears a snarl, as the dinosaur on the other side leaps onto it. She hears claws scraping, and sees that it is using the hole to gain footing.

“Son of a bi—“

She stops, as something hisses on the ground below. She freezes, risking several glances down. At the fence, the dinosaur flips over, landing on its back, and then rolling to right itself.

As it does, another dinosaur of the same type appears from the forest, stopping several feet from the first dinosaur. It makes an odd, rolling caw sound, which is answered by the first dinosaur.

The second dinosaur is slightly different than the first. It’s a bit larger, with a lighter green mixed with brown. Dark brown lines, though, run down its back. It caws again, this time with different tones, and Anne realizes what they’re doing.

Talking.

She shifts her weight to the right slightly, moving towards the tree itself, and stops, frozen once more. Below her, another dinosaur passes under the tree. It snarls, moving faster towards the other two. Anne watches, thinking it is going to stop short like the other one had, but it doesn’t.

It pushes into the first dinosaur, which snarls back. It doesn’t attack.

Anne stares at the toe claws, and tries to remember their names.

It started with a V. Veli—no. Velociraptor!

These dinosaurs were velociraptors. Anne remembered Hammond had wrote that they were vicious carnivores. Pack hunters. Very intelligent.

She watched as the new raptor continued to push the first, and finally backed off. The second one cawed: a low, three-pitched sound.

The third stepped back, snarling. The first raptor positioned itself near the second, and then began looking around. The third, which had an odd mix of purple, blue, and a hint of black as its skin color, replied to the second raptor’s caw.

Anne whispered, “I wonder what they’re saying.”

None of them are really facing her direction, and she takes this fact in. “I think I can outrun them. Make it down this tree and head over—“

She twists her head, using her left hand to push open the foliage behind her. Anne says, “I can run there.”

From her spot in the tree, she can see another of the concrete structures lying across a small, leave-covered rise, where the ground slopes around, leading down towards it. She can either jump the rise, or take the slope down and around.

The structure, she sees, has no building near or around it, save for a little shack near the end. Next to the shack is an odd crane of some sort, that she can’t see to well. Much of it is hidden near the end of the structure. The structure isn’t complete, only running a few dozen yards, standing alone. Near Anne’s end, she sees a short stack of construction crates she can use to climb up onto the structure if she needs to, and make her way to the other end.

Anne looks back at the raptors.

Time to go Anne. Quietly.

She moves her way back through the foliage, so she can climb down behind the tree, hidden from view of the raptors.

The branch under her foot snaps. She falls, throwing her arms out. She grips another branch, her fingers wrapping around it.

Snap.

Her hands go through the branch, and she starts to tumble down. She reaches for another branch as she descends, stopping momentarily. She starts to wrap her legs around another branch, but it’s too late.

She quickly glances away: the raptors are looking straight at her, moving forward, snarling.

She lets go of the branches, letting herself fall. She feels the whip of branches lashing at her clothes and skin, and then the soft crunch of leaves as she lands on the ground.

Anne rolls over, looking for the metal bar. She glances up; the raptors are closing.

She gives up, and starts to run, the dinosaurs snarling and hissing behind her. Up ahead she sees the ground begin to slope away and around the rise. To her left she can see the rise angle upward, towards the treeline, and then stop.

Ah, what the hell.

Anne turns towards the rise, and looks back. The odd, purplish one is in the lead; the other two close behind.

She feels the slope under her feet, and nears the edge. Anne looks over. The rise is cut short, like a cliff—falling almost straight down nearly fifteen feet. “Oh my God,” she says, turning around.

The two other raptors break off, going down the slope, while the purplish-one continues towards her. Ten feet… Eight feet… Six feet… Four feet…

Jump!

Anne turns, and jumps off the rise. Above her, she hears the raptor hiss, and realizes that it has jumped down after her.

I’m going to be fine.

As she nears the ground, the two raptors dart out from her right, after taking the slope down.

Or not.

The ground rushes up to greet her, and she hits it hard. She feels her body slide, and then hears a shriek. She rolls over on her back, looking over at the two raptors, who are now looking up, ignoring her.

One turns, baring its teeth, and begins stalking forward.

Anne watches in horror as it prepares to leap, and then closes her eyes, as the shriek is cut short. She opens them, seeing that the purplish raptor that jumped after her had collided with the raptor preparing to attack.

They rolled away; an odd snarl-hiss mix filling the air. The second raptor, which had not been hit, looks around in frustration, and Anne picks herself up.

She turns, running, as the two raptors on the ground roll off of each other and get up, warily. As Anne closes the distance to the crate stack leading up to the structure, she hears the snarls begin to fade. She glances back, seeing that the raptors have disappeared into the forest on her left.

When she gets to the crates, she looks to her right, where another slope—stretching away for quite a distance—rolls down into a forested area below. Anne thinks she sees something white amongst the trees, but can’t be sure.

Somewhere in the forest to her left she hears another raptor caw, which is answered by another one elsewhere.

They’re coming.

She jumps up onto the crates, pulling herself up. One by one she climbs, kicking them off so the raptors can’t get up. When she finally reaches the top, she kicks the entire top portion of the stack off, kicking three crates in one blow, which causes the others to tumble down along with them.

She takes a breath, her legs dangling over the edge, and then gets up. She follows the concrete structure, crouching down alongside the concrete rise running along the center, like the other one she had been on. Ahead, she could see the roof of the shack, as well as the crane.

The vehicle looked old; its crane rising up past the surface of the concrete structure. She looked down, stopping above the shack, and could see that there was a window covering near the front of the vehicle. A driver’s seat.

“Maybe it still works.”

She moved to the end of the concrete structure, and looked up. The filth-ridden underside of the crane’s carrying cart looked down upon her, and she could see the hinges on the actual crane and the cart were rusted over.

Anne reached out, grabbing hold of the crane itself, and began slowly shuffling down. “Easy Anne, Easy Anne.”

The ground was only a few feet below, and she could see the base of the crane slowly appearing in her vision.

A raptor shrieked.

She jumped, her pant’s leg snagging on a metal fixture. She tried to move, but her entire leg twisted. She yelled, falling from the crane. She landed on her side on the ground, in-between the crane and the shack, and got up.

She heard the crunch of leaves from the forest, and quickly moved around the shack to the front. Much of the doorway was boarded up, and without hesitating, she kicked. Several of the boards instantly cracked, and she climbed into the dark confines of the shack.

The shack was wood inside, with a corrugated tin exterior, including tin roof. “Now this is where I’ve always wanted to live,” she said, sarcastically. Only a few beams of light shone in on the entrance from the places where the wood had been broken by Anne.

In the back, the entire shack was nearly dark, and there were two large crates. Outside there was a snarl.

It’s coming.

She positioned the two crates to align, and then lay down, crunched up, behind them, in the back of the shack. Her legs were tucked under her arms, because the shack was not very accommodating. She closed her eyes, breathing. The floor wasn’t paved, and she was lying in the dirt.

She twisted her head, so it faced the wall of the shack. There was a slight crack between the bottom of the shack and the ground, and a tiny bit of light shone in.

Outside she heard a low-rolling, two pitched squawk, answered by a purring caw. She gasped silently as the light coming through the small crack was blocked out momentarily, as something walked by. She closed her eyes, inhaling the dust-filled air.

The dust was scratching her throat. She had to cough.

Something scratched along the tin exterior, continuing its way around, towards the front. She heard a low hiss.

The scratching stops, and Anne hears sniffing. The raptor has moved to the entrance, sniffing the outside momentarily before sticking its head in through the broken wood. It snarls, but doesn’t push in.

It sniffs the air, getting ready to inspect.

Anne closes her eyes, waiting for the wood to crack and the raptor to enter, only to find her and kill her.

The sniffing stops.

She hears distant thumps as the raptors depart the area. She sighs, coughing. “I wonder why they’re in a hurry.”

She steps over the crates, quickly bending down through the entry she had made for herself. She stands, looking around. She’s facing the large slope, and to her left is the crane, which is also—she realizes—facing the slope.

She looks past the crane, where the path goes on, bending away deeper into the forest. “I guess I’ll go that way.”

Anne takes a single step, when she hears a steady hiss to her left.

It was a trap.

She turns around, looking up at the shadow on the concrete structure above the shack. The raptor is perched there, watching her, snarling.

Anne takes a sidestep towards the crane, and it moves forward, from its crouched position. She runs, as It leaps onto the shack roof and then onto the ground. It swipes, and she hears a low whistle as its toe claw narrowly misses her back.

She spins around the crane, hoping to throw off the raptor, and presses against it, looking to her right. The raptor doesn’t appear. She slowly moves left, breathing quickly, her adrenaline pumping. No sign of the raptor.

She turns, facing the crane, and screams, as the raptor leaps up onto the crane. It slides down several inches, unable to stand correctly on the angle, and jumps off.

She runs left, back around the crane. The raptor goes right, and she doubles back. She jumps onto the crane, looking for a latch on the window to the driver’s seat.

Instead she finds a padlock, and she tugs on it. It’s open!

For a moment she thinks it isn’t, expecting to be locked. She laughs, pulling off the padlock and holding it in her right hand. With her left, she slowly maneuvers the window open, and spots the raptor coming around on the opposite side.

She hurls the lock at the raptor, who snarls as it scrapes its side. It backs away, looking at Anne, who’s already inside the driver’s seat. She closes the window, as the raptor leaps high, landing on it.

She screams, watching as it claws the window above her. Several cracks begin to form.

She looks around the enclosed space, looking for a key to start the crane.

Nothing.

She puts her hands through her hair, thinking she has failed, when something jingles by her foot. “What the–?”

She looks down, and claps once, spotting a set of keys on a ring by her foot. She reaches down, pulling them up. One by one she tries them in the ignition, each one failing.

Above her, a larger crack is beginning to race across the center window. The raptor claws harder. “Come on, come on!”

From below the crane there comes an odd rumble, and the raptor stops clawing, suspicious. Anne twists the key.

“It works!”

The crane begins to move forward, towards the slope. The raptor shrieks, jumping off. Anne sees it run off to the right several yards, before turning to stare at the crane. Anne grips the control stick, trying to turn the crane from the slope.

Nothing works.

In the back of the moving vehicle, the crane itself drops, rocking the entire vehicle. It jars over slightly, moving as Anne furiously tries to get control.

Anne screams, as the crane goes over the slope. The engine stops, and for a moment it hangs there. Anne looks right, watching as the raptor cautiously walks forward, getting ready for another attack.

Anne curses, knowing that there is no escape now. She only has two choices: To run and get eaten, or stay here in this God-awful crane and get eaten.

Just let them get me.

A single tear goes down Anne’s cheek, as the raptor begins moving faster.

The crane groans. It begins moving forward, pushed by the slope. Anne sees an entire hillside covered in leaves before her, leading the way down into several more trees. It pushes forward, and the raptor starts to back off once more.

Everything moves slowly at first, as the crane starts moving down the hill. Anne turns her head to look at the raptor, who starts to flee. She breathes deep, relieved, when the crane begins to pick up speed.

“Not good.”

Everything starts to roll by, and she looks up at the cracked window.

If I’m in this thing when it crashes into those trees, she thinks, then I’m going to hurt.

She says, “Time to go then.”

Anne pushes on the window, waiting for it to pop open.

It doesn’t.

She yells, looking down at the oncoming trees. “No!” She pushes again, and the window budges. She pushes again, and it seemingly flies: landing on the opposite side with a short clang against the metal. She stands up on the seat, looking down.

“Like riding a surfboard,” she says. Anne leaps off the crane, hitting the ground hard. She rolls alongside the crane, and finally puts a foot out, stopping her slower descent. She looks down, as the crane crashes into the trees below with a loud crack and crunch.

It stops moving, and she looks up the slope. All the way down there is a trail in the dirt and leaves. She laughs, looking back down at the crane.

She sees the white again that she had seen earlier. It’s in the trees, just beyond where the crane stopped, but she can see it now; unmoving.

Anne stands up, slowly walking down the slope.