Not wishing to rummage through her duffel bag with greasy hands, she decided to find clean clothes after she bathed. There was just enough light from distant fires to make a flashlight unnecessary. After ensuring the fire had enough wood, she headed for the river. Once she reached its shores, she searched for a spot where the water was more than a few inches deep. She had to walk a ways before she found a suitable spot. Even there, only eight inches of brown water flowed over the muddy bottom. Con took off her shoes and her clothes and tried to clean them as best she could. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell if she had done any good. She folded her "clean" clothes and placed them on her shoes and attempted to wash herself.
The water felt good, but gritty with ash and dirt. Con recalled her remark to Sara about "smelling like myself." The concept had taken on more pungent meaning. She reeked. Pretty soon, she mused, / won't even notice. She thought of how Sara might react in her situation. The idea of Sara bathing in a muddy river was simultaneously amusing and saddening. Con bathed standing up because of the ooze on the riverbed. After a while, she assumed she was a clean as she could get. She left the river to stand on its bank and try to wash the mud from her feet. Then she put on her shoes and carried her wet clothes back to the fire.
RICK AND JOE found the Hypsilophodontid and butch-ered it as best they could. It was small for a dinosaur, but it was still a heavy animal. Both of them had to strain to flip it over so they could remove its other hind limb. Rick tried to cut off its tail, but it was sheathed in bony tendons. He settled on the forearms and shoulders, the remaining haunch, and strips of muscle from the back and upper tail. The meat made a heavy and bloody load.
As they headed back, Rick said, "We should cook all of this tonight, it'll keep longer."
"I suppose you're right," said Joe with a sigh, "but I'm pooped."
"So I am I, but we can sleep in before we dig out."
"Remind me to phone room service and cancel the wake-up call."
They struggled along the riverbank and were glad when their fire appeared in the distance. Soon they could see Con standing before it, holding the gun. As they ap-proached nearer, Rick saw she had changed her clothes. Once they were in the circle of firelight, he could plainly see she was wide-eyed with fear. He also noticed that the gun was turned on and the safety was off.
"Con!" said Rick with concern. "What happened?"
"I went bathing in the river," she said in a frightened voice. "When I came back, the meat was gone!" 24
RICK EXAMINED THE GROUND FOR FOOTPRINTS, BUT THE
baked earth offered no clues about the creature or creatures that had raided the camp. "I wasn't thinking," he said. "I just assumed that the fire had driven off the wildlife."
"What do you think it was?" asked Con.
"I'd guess it was a small carnivore," said Rick, "like the one I shot."
"A nightstalker?" said Joe.
"I prefer Noctecorreptus greightonae," said Rick.
"Well, Con's namesake just stole her breakfast," said Joe. "You'd better cook some more." Cooking all the meat was the most sensible thing to do, yet Rick wanted with all his being to put it off. He fought the impulse, knowing they couldn't afford to let their pre-cious food spoil. Even cooked, it wouldn't last long. Every step of preparing the meat required all Rick's effort, for he felt completely drained. He imagined that the others felt the same way. He removed the thick hide, then sliced the muscle beneath into strips for Con to cook on the embers. The end product of all this labor was black and stiff and looked barely edible. Rick wished they could smoke and dry the meat into jerky, but there was nothing at hand from which to construct a drying rack. The fire had stripped the land of its resources. While Con and Rick worked, Joe stood guard. Once, he thought he saw a pair of eyes reflecting the fire's glow, but they disappeared by the time he grabbed a flashlight. If it was the thief, it was its only appearance.
By the time all the meat was cooked, it was so dark they had difficulty finding the plane. Not daring to leave the food untended, they carried it all as they blundered about. When Joe's flashlight finally shone on the plane, Con's clean new shirt was covered with charred grease. She was beyond car-ing. They secured the food inside the plane, then, leaving its lights on as a beacon, headed back to the fire for the rest of their belongings.
Following in the rear, Joe found himself stumbling in the darkness. "Damn!" he cursed, as he tripped over something. "We should've brought a second flashlight."
"We'll get the drill down eventually," said Rick.
"Yeah, about the time the batteries go dead," said Joe.
"By the time that happens," said Rick, "some of the dust will have settled and we'll be able to tell day from night."
"What I want to know is how that damned dinosaur of yours finds its way in the dark," said Joe. "I swear it was watching us."
"I only assumed it was a nightstalker," said Rick. "I don't know for sure."
"With a name like that," said Joe, "isn't it likely?"
"If it's a Noctecorreptus, the answer's simple," replied Rick. "It hunts mammals, and the mammals of this period are nocturnal. It has huge eyes and well-developed olfactory lobes."
"So what it can't see, it can smell?" asked Con.
"That's about it," said Rick.
"Oh God!" Con said in a shaky voice. She imagined the nightstalker watching her as she bathed, trying to decide if she was edible.
Rick sensed her concern. "They eat rat-sized prey. That's what I found in the stomach of the one I shot. They're prob-ably scavengers, too. Most small carnivores are. That ex-plains why one might have stolen our meat."
Con was calmed by Rick's answer, but not completely. Who knows what an animal will do when driven by hunger? She reflected that, on this matter, she might be more expert than Rick. She was very aware of how powerful hunger could be.
When they reached the fire, they retrieved a second flash-light from a duffel bag. With it, the return trip was quick. They entered the plane and spread the damp contents of their bags on the floor to serve as bedding. It was still hot and close in the plane, but it was safe. Very soon, everyone fell into the dreamless sleep of the exhausted.
AN EMPTY STOMACH woke Con. It was dark, but day and night were meaningless distinctions. Mingled with the odor of mud and sweaty bodies was the smell of charred meat. Her mouth watered at the thought of it, but she would not permit herself a single bite before Rick and Joe ate, too. Instead, she groped for a water bottle and had a drink. The bottle was nearly empty. Before long, they would have to refill it at the river. Hopefully, they would need to do it only once.
Lying in the dark, Con imagined what their new home would be like. She assumed they would be able to reach the eastern seaboard in the dark. Rick had told her the Appalachian Mountains would be as tall as the Rockies. She pictured a seaside forest with towering mountains in the background. The dinosaurs would be gone, but along with fish, reptiles, and birds there would be small mam-mals to eat. Perhaps she could catch some to raise as livestock.