Adeline caught a glimpse of her in another video. She was entering Charlie’s apartment building, proceeding up the stairs. The night he died.
The voice behind her made Adeline jump.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
Adeline took a step back.
Elliott followed her deeper into the room, his hand gripping the handle to the thick wooden door.
“I was looking for the—”
Adeline was going to say bathroom, but Elliott laughed and cut her off. “I know what you were looking for.”
He swung the door closed with a thud. And locked it.
Adeline opened her mouth.
Elliott held up a hand. “Don’t scream. It won’t matter. No one can hear you down here.”
TWENTY-NINE
From the shallow cave, under the glow of moonlight, Sam watched the seelo emerge from the tree line. The carnivorous dinosaur, which reminded him of a miniature T. rex, ventured onto the rocky expanse, its sharp claws clacking as it went, rain pouring down around it.
The deadly creature looked directly at Sam. Over the rain, the clack-clack-clack of more claws called out in the night. Sam heard the other seelo before he saw it, but soon, it emerged from the forest and came to stand beside the first. They stared at Sam, a Triassic jury of two deciding his fate.
The first took a step forward, as if a decision had been made.
Sam figured he looked weak to them. Half dead. Easy prey.
Maybe he was. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fight.
He dropped the stick and crawled forward, out of the small cave.
The seelos advanced.
Rain poured down, drops bouncing on the white stone like balls of hail.
Shock and awe. That was his only chance. He was weak. That was the truth. But he had one advantage they didn’t: his mind.
Sam gripped a loose rock by the cave entrance and hurled it at the two seelos. Both their heads snapped around.
He picked up another stone and launched it, this time connecting with the closest dinosaur’s head. It reeled back, screeching, and wheeled around, racing into the dark forest, the other chasing after it.
Sam exhaled and dropped to the ground like a balloon deflating.
He gathered a few stones and stacked them by the cave entrance. He smiled at his little stockpile of missiles, ready to fight the Pangean war he had started.
He kept the stick in his hand, but he couldn’t watch the woods any longer. The pattering of the rain soon lulled him to sleep.
*
The morning light poured into the cave like an invading army.
Sam covered his eyes with his arm and tried to go back to sleep.
The hunger finally made him move. It was a hunger like he had never known, an ache deep down inside that felt more like sickness, as though his own body was eating itself.
He crawled to the mouth of the cave and stopped at the stack of stones. In the indentions in the dirt where they had been, small worms were writhing in the baking sun, snaking their way under nearby rocks to escape.
Sam’s stomach rumbled.
His mouth watered.
So this is what it’s come to, eh?
He turned over one of the rocks, revealing three larger earthworms. They were brown and gray and as he watched them, wondering if he was actually capable of eating them, they began inching way.
Sam picked one up, brushed off the dirt caked on it and dropped it in his mouth. He was that hungry.
The worm was slimy and earthy. His first instinct was to gag. He certainly couldn’t chew it. He swallowed it down and winced and forced himself to pick up the next one, and the next.
There, under the morning sun, near the mouth of the cave, he broke his fast on a Triassic earthworm buffet. It was probably the grossest thing Sam had ever done. It was also, strangely, the most fulfilling meal of his entire life.
The worms brought strength. And he was going to use it.
He needed water. And fire.
In the forest, he drank rainwater from the fern leaves until he had washed the earthy taste out of his mouth and filled his belly. With each step, he watched for the seelos, careful not to make any noise as he gathered sticks for his fire.
Soon, he had a pile of kindling and fuel near the small cave. In his mind’s eye, he saw a blazing inferno. Around it, he imagined a stack of stones and a flat, thin rock on top, a fish lying on it, grilling in the heat of the crackling fire. The thought made his mouth water even more. He had seen two other types of seed ferns in the forest that morning—one with large fleshy pods hanging down. But the memory of yesterday’s food poisoning made his stomach turn at the thought of trying other plants.
He wanted meat.
But first, he needed a fire. For protection.