The Lost World - Michael Crichton [133]
Thorne turned, and looked up at Sarah. “Thanks,” he said.
Sarah sat heavily on the ground beside him. Blood dripped from her bandaged head. She opened her fingers, and released a handful of his gray hair, which fell in a wet clump onto the grass.
“Hell of a night,” she said.
The High Hide
Watching through the night-vision glasses, Levine said, “They made it!”
Kelly said, “All of them?”
“Yes! They made it!”
Kelly began to jump and cheer.
Arby turned, and grabbed the glasses out of Levine’s hand.
“Hey,” Levine said. “Just a minute—”
“I need them,” Arby said. He spun back around and looked out at the dark plain. For a moment, he couldn’t see anything, just a green blur. His fingers found the focus knob, he twisted it quickly, and the image came into view.
“What the hell is so important?” Levine said irritably. “That’s an expensive piece of equipment—”
And then they all heard the snarling. It was coming closer.
In pale shades of luminous green, Arby saw the raptors clearly. There were twelve of them, moving in a loose cluster through the grass, heading in the direction of the high hide. One animal was a few yards ahead and seemed to be the leader; but it was hard to discern any organization in the pack. The raptors were all snarling and licking the blood off their snouts, wiping their faces with their clawed forearms, a gesture oddly intelligent, almost human. In the night-vision glasses, their eyes glowed bright green.
They did not seem to have noticed the high hide. They never looked up toward it. But they were certainly headed in that direction.
Abruptly, the glasses were yanked out of Arby’s hands. “Excuse me,” Levine said. “I think I’d better handle this.”
Arby said, “You wouldn’t even know about it, if it wasn’t for me.”
“Be quiet,” Levine said. He brought the glasses to his eyes, focused them, and sighed at what he saw. Twelve animals, about twenty yards away.
Eddie said quietly, “Do they see us?”
“No. And we’re downwind of them, so they won’t smell us. My guess is they’re following the game trail that runs past the hide. If we’re quiet, they’ll go right past us.”
Eddie’s radio crackled. He hastily reached to turn it down.
They all stared out at the plain. The night was now calm and still. The rain had stopped, and the moon was breaking through thinning clouds. Faintly, they saw the approaching animals, dark against the silver grass.
Eddie whispered, “Can they get up here?”
“I don’t see how,” Levine whispered. “We’re almost twenty feet above the ground. I think we’ll be fine.”
“But you said they can climb trees.”
“Ssssh. This isn’t a tree. Now, everybody down, and quiet.”
* * *
Malcolm winced in pain as Thorne stretched him out on a table in the second trailer. “I don’t seem to have much luck on these expeditions, do I?”
“No, you don’t,” Sarah said. “Just take it easy, Ian.” Thorne held a flashlight while she cut away Malcolm’s trouser. He had a deep gash on his right leg, and he had lost a lot of blood. She said, “We have a medical kit?”
Thorne said, “I think there’s one outside, where we store the bike.”
“Get it.”
Thorne went outside to get it. Malcolm and Harding were alone in the trailer. She shone the light into the wound, peering closely. Malcolm said, “How bad is it?”
“It could be worse,” she said lightly. “You’ll survive.” In fact, the wound cut deep, almost to the bone. Somehow it had missed the artery; that was lucky. But the gash was filthy—she saw grease and bits of leaves mashed into the ragged red muscle. She’d have to clean it out, but she’d wait for the morphine to take effect first.
“Sarah,” Malcolm said, “I owe you my life.”
“Never mind, Ian.”
“No, no, I do.”
“Ian,” she said, looking at him. “This sincerity is not like you.”
“It’ll pass,” he said, and smiled a little. She knew he must be in pain. Thorne returned with the medical kit, and she filled the syringe, tapped out the bubbles, and injected it into Malcolm’s shoulder.
He grunted. “Ow. How much did you give me?”
“A lot.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to clean the wound