Chapter 11: Ghosts

  185 Nautical Miles Off the Coast of Costa Rica

  ? Aboard The Challenger

  The Challenger cut through the open ocean like a floating fortress, its hull steady against the swell. She was a beast, custom retrofitted for rapid deployment, hostile environment search and rescue. Officially, she was a humanitarian asset. Unofficially, she could punch her way through a warzone if she had to.

  JJ Muldoon stood on the top deck, wind dragging at his sleeves. Isla Nublar was still hours off, hidden beyond the clouded horizon.

  Behind him, rotor blades whined as the Jayhawk was loaded with gear. Down on the LCU, Hector double-checked the tie-downs on the all-terrain vehicle, calling orders to a pair of techs. The man could fly through a hurricane, but he still tied a knot like a Navy vet.

  JJ turned and descended the metal steps into the Challenger’s command center, a space equal parts bridge, workshop, and war room.

  Loni was there, sorting trauma packs. Her movements were brisk, methodical, zero wasted motion. A former EMT from New York, she didn’t speak much unless it mattered. She’d seen death up close, in back alleys and burning buildings. Nublar didn’t scare her. Not the way it scared JJ.

  Across from her, Little Bear, James Johnson, sat cross-legged with a half-unfolded topographical map across his knees. He was calm, grounded. Cheyenne by blood, tracker by trade. His dark eyes flicked up as JJ entered.

  “You’re sure this is the best route?” JJ asked.

  Little Bear nodded once. “Visitor Center sits here,” he pointed with two fingers. “North dock connects through the basin trail, but that path’s probably gone. Jungle’s eaten most of it.”

  JJ leaned closer. “Can we still get there by ATV?”

  “Maybe. If the road isn’t washed out.”

  “And the radio tower?”

  Little Bear traced a secondary path. “Northwest ridge. High ground. If it’s still standing, it’ll have line-of-sight.”

  JJ nodded and took the seat opposite. “We hit the beach, follow the old utility road inland, check the Visitor Center. If no one’s there, we pivot north. Try for the tower.”

  Loni glanced up. “You think we’ll find them?”

  JJ didn’t answer immediately. The memory of that voice crackling through the static echoed in his head. Two alive. Five dead.

  “I think we have to try,” he said.

  Loni zipped her pack. “Good enough for me.”

  The door opened, and Hector ducked inside, windblown and grinning. “LCU’s ready. Birds fueled. Weather window looks good for the next twelve hours. After that…” He made a tilting hand motion.

  JJ stood. “We won’t be there longer than we have to.”

  Hector gave a thumbs-up, but the weight in his eyes betrayed the same unspoken worry. Everyone had seen the maps. Everyone had read the old reports.

  Dinosaurs. Loose infrastructure. No outside communication. No way to call for help if things went sideways.

  JJ pulled out a small case and opened it. Inside, a flare gun, a handheld radio, a folding blade, and a laminated park schematic, marked up, creased, and rainproofed.

  He handed copies of the map to each of them.

  “We don’t know who they are or how they got there. But the working theory is they’re at the Visitor Center. It’s the largest structure on the island that’s not a paddock or lab. If they needed shelter, that’s where they’d go.”

  Loni studied the schematic. “Did the transmission say anything about their physical state?”

  JJ shook his head. “Nothing. Bring first aid and a trauma kit just in case.”

  Little Bear rolled up his map and stood. “Something alive on the island.”

  JJ met his gaze. “I know.”

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  Outside, the Challenger’s engines rumbled beneath their feet, humming with restrained power.

  JJ looked to the horizon again. He could feel the island waiting.

  “Gear up,” he said. “We hit the beach at dawn.”

  The sky was steel gray when the LCU touched ground. JJ Muldoon stood at the prow of the landing craft, shoulders tense beneath his gear. Behind him, Hector throttled the engine back, and the ramp dropped with a metallic groan, striking the beach.

  The team disembarked quickly, boots crunching damp gravel, weapons slung. Loni checked her trauma bag. Little Bear was examining the ground where the beach met the dilapidated dock.

  “Tracks,” he murmured.

  JJ crouched beside him. The dock was a mess, washed-out drift, tangled vines from where the jungle had pushed closer, and there, in the earth, was the faint print of a boot. Half a boot. Small, a day old.

  JJ’s eyes scanned the surrounding area. The old dock was rotted through in places, boards snapped and hung like broken teeth. A torn rope dangled from a collapsed piling.

  “Return prints over there.” Little Bear added. “They came ashore. Went inland and came back. But couldn’t leave.” He pointed to the mostly submerged remnants of a dinghy. It had been wrecked.

  Hector came up behind them, squinting at the trees. “Big print over there,” he pointed. “Not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

  JJ walked over. The print in question was deeper, wider, with three toes. The heel impression was nearly circular, pressed into the wet sand with enough force to push pebbles aside.

  He stared at it for a long moment. “Whatever it was, it’s heavy. And walking upright.”

  Loni’s voice cut through the rising wind. “Do we even know what’s still alive out here?”

  “No,” JJ said. “But we know what used to be.”

  He looked inland. The tree line began barely a dozen meters from the dock. Jungle choked the landscape, dense, wet, and humming with the sounds of life. Somewhere out there was the Visitor Center. And maybe survivors.

  JJ waved his hand. “Mount up.”

  The all-terrain vehicle was unloaded and rolling within minutes, Little Bear at the wheel. JJ rode shotgun, the others perched in the back, alert. The old utility trail had all but disappeared, but Little Bear managed to follow its ghost, an unnatural straightness beneath the underbrush, the bones of a road crushed under decades of jungle growth.

  The deeper they drove, the quieter it got.

  Birdsong vanished. Insects stilled. The world narrowed to green and gray and the soft growl of the ATV’s motor.

  Loni shifted uneasily. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “You can say that again,” Hector muttered. “This place is too damn quiet.”

  JJ nodded, his eyes stayed forward, scanning every branch and shadow. It wasn’t just the silence. It was the smell. Beneath the rot and vegetation… something else.

  They crested a ridge, broke through the treeline, and there it was.

  The Visitor Center stood as a ruin swallowed by time. Ivy and moss covered much of the facade. The once-proud glass doors were shattered inward. Debris littered the steps. A toppled sign lay to one side, its letters half-obscured:

  ? ... Welcome to Jurassic Park.

  JJ brought up his binoculars. No movement. No lights. But there were signs people had been here, cleared debris at the entrance, and a burned-out cooking pit in the courtyard. The faint shimmer of reflective cloth.

  “Someone’s been here,” he muttered. “Recently.”

  Little Bear pointed to the cooking pit. “Looks like they were having a party.”

  JJ focused his binoculars on the pit. He could see a stereo, two coolers, and scattered remains of foam plates and plastic utensils.

  JJ nodded once. “Why would they come out here to party?”

  “Probably the thrill. Barbecue, then spend the night telling spooky stories. Maybe a little nookie in the center or woods. Memories.” Loni said from the back.

  He climbed out of the ATV. The others followed, fanning out without a word. Loni moved toward the side of the building, Hector toward the shattered glass. JJ approached the front.

  Something rustled in the brush behind them.

  All four froze.

  The sound was Heavy and Slow. Then… a low sound. Not a growl. A chuff.

  JJ raised his hand. The others stilled.

  Out in the mist, just beyond the tree line, a shape moved low to the ground. Walking on two legs. The foliage barely parted, but JJ caught the glint of an eye. Round. Reptilian.

  It didn’t charge. But it was watching. Then it was gone.

  “Keep an eye on the foliage,” JJ said, voice barely above a whisper.

  He turned back to the center. “We’ll sweep the building. One pass, then we move on.”

  As one, they entered the broken shadow of the Visitor Center.