A small speedboat was sailing through the waters off the nearby Isla Sorna, which had once housed the research labs for the famous Jurassic Park. But after several mishaps, the United Nations and Costa Rican authorities ordered the park off-limits to humans.

But that didn't matter to the man Ben Hildebrand, or the thirteen-year-old Eric Kirby. Both were outfitted with life jackets and clipped to a two-person parasail that was attached to the private tour boat.

Ben was a friend of Eric's mother, and he had arranged the trip. "Make sure you get us as close as you can!" he called to the skipper. "I'll make sure you get a little extra if you make it a good trip!"

The skipper laughed and spread his arms. "I'll make sure you get close, my friend. But not too close. I don't want you to get eaten!" He laughed again. "Ready, amigo?"

"Ready!" replied Ben.

"Ready!" echoed Eric, giving the skipper a thumbs-up.

The skipper counted to three, and then the parasail opened, and Eric and Ben were lifted off the deck. Eric scanned the jungle, looking for a glimpse of a real live dinosaur.

Everything was peaceful for a while, until a violent jolt startled them. Eric looked down and saw that the skipper was gone!

"Something got to him!" Ben cried. "The boat's out of control. Unclip your line!" As Eric and Ben drifted helplessly toward Isla Sorna, a pair of cold, predatory eyes watched . . . and waited.

Weeks later, in a suburban backyard, Dr. Alan Grant watched with amusement as two tiny dinosaurs battled each other in the hands of a little boy playing in a sandbox.

After a few minutes, Dr. Grant spoke to him. "Actually, Charlie, those two are herbivores. They wouldn't be interested in fighting each other."

Dr. Grant picked up two other dinosaurs. "See, these are carnivores," the paleontologist explained. "And this one here—see its claws—this one here uses its claws to gouge out the throat of its opponent."

Charlie's eyes grew wide.

"Uh, Alan," said Charlie's mother, Ellie Satler, "he's three. Why don't you wait till he's five?"

"Oh, right," Dr. Grant replied. He smiled at little Charlie and made the toys dance on the sandbox edge. "Happy dinosaurs!"

Charlie giggled. He like the dinosaur man.

A car turned into the driveway. "That must be Mark," Ellie said, running to greet her husband.

Dr. Grant rose, and the two men shook hands.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Charlie cried. "This one is a her-ba-bore."

Over dinner in Mark and Ellie's dining room, Dr. Grant talked about his recent work. "We have a new site in Montana," he said. "Well, at least we do until the money runs out. I'm on a fund-raising tour to raise cash for the excavation."

"Did you find anything interesting?" Ellie asked.

"Raptors mostly. Your favorite," Grant said. Years ago, Dr. Grant had worked closely with Ellie. Then the two of them had nearly been killed during a visit to Jurassic Park—by raptors. They'd both escaped, but afterwards they'd gone their separate ways.

"Raptors lived and hunted in packs," Dr. Grant reminded Ellie, "and I have a theory that they communicated through the sounds they made. That's how they worked together as a team."

Ellie was excited about Dr. Grant's theory, but her husband, Mark, was unimpressed.

"What do you do, Mark?" Dr. Grant asked.

"International relations, mostly," Mark replied. "Treaty law. Boring stuff."

After dinner, it was time for Dr. Grant to leave. "Let me know if I can help," Ellie told him as they said good-bye. "If you need me for anything, just call."

The next day, Dr. Grant spoke at a local university. After his talk was over, he opened up for questions.

"What's the point of digging up bones?" one student asked.

"Yeah," said another. "Once the United Nations decides how to handle Isla Sorna, scientists themselves can go to the island and look at live dinosaurs for themselves."

A reporter rose and asked, "Isn't paleontology itself in danger of extinction?"

Amid chuckles from the audience, Dr. Grant replied impatiently, "No. Paleontologists study dinosaurs. The real dinosaurs lived sixty-five million years ago. What's left of them is fossilized in stone. What InGen created are theme park monsters, nothing more."

The reporter seemed puzzled. "You're saying you wouldn't want to study them if you had the chance? You wouldn't want to go back?"

Dr. Grant shook his head. "No force on earth or heaven could get me back to Jurassic Park."

Dr. Grant was exhausted when he finally returned to his Montana dig.

"Dr. Grant! You're back!" cried Billy Brennan, Dr. Grant's twenty-five-year-old assistant. After pulling Dr. Grant into a nearby tent, Billy pointed to a strange machine hooked up to a dusty computer.

"Meet the future of paleontology," Billy said excitedly.

"Oh, really? Can it dig?" asked Dr. Grant. He wasn't sure what the machine did, but he already hated it. He hated all machines. Of course, he had once also hated kids, but that was before he'd met entrepreneur John Hammond's grandchildren on his first—and only—visit to Jurassic Park.

"It's a rapid prototype," Billy explained. "I feed in the scan data from the raptor fossils, the computer breaks it into thousands of slices, and this machine sculpts it, one layer at a time."

Billy activated the machine and watched it sculpt a small object. "I give you the resonating chamber of a velociraptor," he said proudly.

Amazed, Dr. Grant picked up the chamber and blew into it as if it were a conch shell. The strange sounds it made sent chills through both men. Were these sounds a form of raptor communication? Dr. Grant thought so, but he couldn't yet prove it.

"This is great, Billy," Dr. Grant said. "Really it is. But I'm sad to say we're going to have to pack up in four weeks." They had lost money to fund their research, and would soon be forced to close down.

"You must be Dr. Grant," said a man who had suddenly appeared at the opening of the tent. A woman stood beside him. "Paul Kirby. Kirby Enterprises," the man said. "This is my wife, Amanda."

Dr. Grant frowned. He had no time for strangers.

"I have an interesting proposition for you," Paul said with a smile.

At dinner that night, Paul and his wife told Dr. Grant and Billy about themselves. "Amanda and I love the outdoors. Heck, we've been on just about every adventure tour they've come up with," he said. "I've chartered a private plane to take us flying over Isla Sorna, and we want you to be our guide."

Dr. Grant shook his head. "I have already taken that little adventure tour. Once was enough. Besides, I understand the islands are in a no-flying, no-boating zone."

"We've gotten special authorization to fly over it," Amanda said. "Please come. You don't know how important this trip is to us."

"And of course, we'd love to make a contribution to your research here," Paul said, waving his checkbook.

Billy stared at the checkbook, then at his teacher. They badly needed money for their research. His eyes seemed to shout, C'mon, Dr. Grant! Don't say no!

A few days later, Dr. Grant was sitting inside a small plane with Billy next to him. In the passenger area along with them was a diverse group of men, from different ethnic backgrounds and different countries. In fact, the only similar thing about them was the fact that they were all dressed in some form of red clothing.

Dr. Grant pulled his wide-brimmed hat down low over his eyes. "Wake me when we get there," he instructed Billy.

As they approached Isla Sorna, a radio signal crackled through the pilot's headphones. "Unidentified aircraft approaching Isla Sorna, you are flying in restricted airspace. Redirect at once."

Their pilot was a relaxed and intellectual Engineer from Bee Cave, Texas, wearing a pair of Safe and Sound head phones and a Gold Digger beard. He ignored the message and flew on. His copilot was a black, one-eyed, heavy-drinking Demoman from the Scottish town of Ullapool wearing a Scot Bonnet. He put down his bottle of whiskey long enough to switch the radio off.

The Engineer banked the airplane and dived lower. Everyone was staring out the windows at the island below.

Suddenly Dr. Grant heard an odd sound that woke him from his slumber. "Is that the landing gear?" he asked, staring at Paul and Amanda Kirby. They refused to meet his gaze.

"You can't land!" Dr. Grant protested. "It's too dangerous!" He rushed forward to the cockpit. But halfway there, the steward, a large Heavy from the USSR wearing an Officer's Ushanka grabbed him.

"This plane cannot land!" Dr. Grant shouted. But the Heavy's fists swung hard, and Dr. Grant's world faded to black.

When Dr. Grant opened his eyes again, he heard Amanda Kirby's voice from outside the plane. "Ben!" she called. "Eric!"

Who are Ben and Eric? wondered Dr. Grant. He and Billy stumbled out of the plane and saw that they had landed on a weed-covered runway. Paul Kirby stood near the plane, watching Amanda pace while several people walked into the jungle.

One of them was a cheerful New Zealand ocker-style Sniper. He wore a Brim-Full of Bullets fedora and carried an AWPer Hand rifle. The second was a jingoistic American Soldier, with a Team Captain military cap on his head. He brandished an Air Strike rocket launcher. The third was a mentally unstable Pyro whose only form of communication was mumbling. He wore a Mishap Mercenary mask over his face. In his hands he held a Degreaser flamethrower.

"Where are those three going?" Dr. Grant asked Paul.

"They're setting up a perimeter, to make the place safe," Paul replied.

Dr. Grant shook his head. "On this island, there is no such things as safe. We have to get back on that plane!" He pointed at Amanda Kirby, who was shouting through a bullhorn. "Will you tell your wife to stop making that noise? That is a very, very bad idea!"

The Spy, a deadpan Frenchman wearing a Fancy Fedora, brought out a wad of Mann Co. dollars from his suit pocket and tossed some bills at Dr. Grant. "Here," he said. "Go buy yourself a nicer hat."

Dr. Grant glared at Billy, who was trying his best not to laugh.

An unearthly roar shook the jungle around them.

"What was that?" Paul whispered.

Suddenly, the Sniper and the Soldier came running out of the jungle. There was no sign of the Pyro. "We've got to go!" the Soldier cried.

A second earsplitting roar rocked the jungle. The creature was closer now. Everyone ran for the plane. The Engineer started the engines, and the Soldier rushed to the cockpit.

Billy tried to stop him. "What about the other guy?"

"The Pyro's a professional!" the Soldier responded. "He can handle himself!"

From the jungle came the Pyro's terrified "Mmph mmmph mph-mph mmph mmmmph!"

"We're going!" the Soldier shouted.

From the seat inside the small plane, Amanda saw the creature at last. "Oh, my goodness!" she cried as a gigantic Spinosaurus lumbered out of the jungle. It was huge—almost fifty feet long and sixteen feet high with a tall, bony sail along its spine.

The Pyro was running from it, waving at the plane to stop. But he didn't have a chance. The creature bent low and snapped its toothy jaws around him. Blood sprayed everywhere.

Inside the plane, the mercenaries were struck speechless. "Sweet Land of Liberty," breathed the Soldier.

"Crikey!" the Sniper shouted.

Then the Spinosaurus stepped in front of the oncoming plane. The Engineer pulled back on the stick, trying to soar over the creature. But one of the propellers clipped the beast's armored back and the airplane plunged into the jungle, crashing into the thick branches of a tall tree.

Inside, the passengers were dazed but alive. The Engineer tried the cockpit radio, but it didn't work. "Who has the satellite phone?" he cried.

"I do!" Paul tossed the phone to the Demoman, but all the Demoman got was a busy signal. "Bloody Hell!" he cursed in a Scottish accent. The Soldier opened the door, then froze. The plane was so high in the treetops there was no way for them to get down!

Suddenly, Amanda began to scream. A gigantic eye glared at them through the cockpit window. The Spinosaurus had followed them! With an ear-shattering roar, it ripped away the nose of the plane. The Engineer and Demoman gasped as the Spinosaurus stuck its long nose inside the cockpit. The two men lunged for the passenger compartment.

The Engineer made it. The Demoman didn't. The dinosaur's jaws closed on the Demoman's leg. He reached for his Iron Bomber sticky bomb launcher and fired. He missed. "Aw, cripe!"

He didn't have a chance to reload. Within seconds he was the next snack for the Spinosaurus.

"Demoman down!" the Soldier shouted.

In no time at all the Spinosaurus came back for another course of its meal. Ramming its long snout inside the aircraft again, it tried to grab Amanda with its giant teeth. She pulled her legs back in the nick of time, and the knife-like teeth snapped shut on empty air.

As everyone rushed toward the back of the passenger compartment, the plane began to tip over. In a shower of leaves and broken branches, the wreckage crashed to the ground at the Spinosaurus's feet. The dinosaur kicked the airplane, and the twisted metal hull skidded across the jungle clearing. The passengers tumbled like clothes in a dryer.

The Spinosaurus caught up to the plane again and crushed the metal hull with its gigantic foot. Then its giant jaws began to rip the remains of the plane apart.

"Zis vay!" the Medic, a German doctor from Stuttgart with a Physician's Procedure mask over his face and a white bird on his shoulder, cried. "Schnell! Schnell!"

He and the others crawled through a jagged rip in the side of the plane and ran into the jungle. Sensing movement, the Spinosaurus turned. When it spotted the escaping prey, it chased after the humans.

With Dr. Grant in the lead, the group darted among the trees. The Spinosaurus was close on their heels, but some of the mercenaries were able to keep it at bay with their weapons. The Scout, a cocky, fast-talking baseball fan and street runner from Boston, Massachusetts fired his Back Scatter gun at the dinosaur's face. This had almost no effect, but it slowed the beast somewhat. The Medic used his air-powered syringe gun on the beast's sensitive underbelly.

The deeper into the jungle they ran, the thicker the tree trunks became. Soon the thick trees were so close together that the huge creature could no longer squeeze between them. The humans ran in panic until they couldn't run anymore. When they could no longer hear the roar of the Spinosaurus, they stopped in a clearing to catch their breath.

"It's time you did some explaining, Mr. Kirby," Dr. Grant said, glaring at the man.

Paul told them of how his son Eric Kirby had gone parasailing off the coast of Isla Sorna. When he hadn't returned, they'd made up their minds to go looking for him.

"So you let a twelve-year-old go parasailing alone?" Billy asked fiercely.

"No!" Paul Kirby protested. "He was with a friend. Ben Hildebrand."

"How long have they been gone?" asked Dr. Grant. He was not too pleased with the Kirby's parenting skills.

"Eight weeks—" Paul began, but he was cut off by Amanda. "Almost eight weeks," she said.

But Dr. Grant still wanted to know why he was on the island at all. "So why me?"

Paul pointed at the Soldier. "He said we needed someone who'd been on the island before."

"I have never been on this island," Dr. Grant said.

Paul didn't believe it. "Sure you have!"

"That was Isla Nublar," explained Billy. "This is Isla Sorna. Site B."

Suddenly, Dr. Grant looked up. The humans had stumbled upon a Tyrannosaurus Rex!

"Nobody move a muscle," Dr. Grant whispered. It was a full-grown bull Tyrannosaurus, and Dr. Grant hoped the creature wouldn't notice them if they stood perfectly still.

The T-Rex's eyes scanned the area for a long moment, but the predator failed to react. Dr. Gran was relieved. The T-Rex didn't see them.

Then, just when the predator was turning away, the Scout panicked. Breaking from their group, he began to run. He didn't get far before the T-Rex spotted him, roared, and began to chase him.

Now everyone else had to run, too. They ran through the trees at top speed, right back in the direction of—

"Oh, no," said Dr. Grant on an exhaled breath.

A shadow rose in front of them. It was the Spinosaurus! Paul grabbed Amanda's hand and dragged her behind a tree. Billy and the mercenaries jumped into the bushes. Dr. Grant tried to flee, too, but he couldn't. His foot was trapped in the twisted roots that covered the forest floor.

He closed his eyes in fear, hoping for a swift end. But the T-Rex and the Spinosaurus didn't even notice the tiny human. Instead, they began to circle each other. The rex roared so loudly that it hurt the humans' ears. The Spinosaurus shook the tall, bony sail on its back and snarled. Finally, the Sniper dashed forward.

"Here, mate!" he said. "A little of the old chop-chop!" Drawing his Kukri knife, he slashed through the roots that trapped Dr. Grant. Dr. Grant dived between two stout tree trunks.

With a low growl, the T-Rex struck the other predator with its tail. The Spinosaurus howled with rage, then leaped at the throat of the yelping T-Rex.

The humans watched in both horror and awe as the Spinosaurus tore at its enemy. "Give 'em hell, boys!" the Soldier shouted. With that, the mercs drew their weapons and opened fire.

The Engineer announced, "Sentry going up." He dashed forward and built a sentry gun near the feet of the Spinosaurus. The gun was quickly upgraded to its maximum, and tore away at the Spinosaurus with machine gun bullets. However, the placing of the gun was not the best, as the Spinosaurus lifted one of its giant feet and stepped on it, crushing it into dozens of metal pieces. "Dino's smashin' mah sentry!" the Engineer shouted. "Sentry down!"

The Scout dashed behind the Spinosaurus and then went to work with his baseball bat, whacking the back of the dinosaur's knees. "Say good bye to your kneecaps, chuckle head!" he laughed.

The Spinosaurus didn't take too kindly to that, so it left off clawing out the T-Rex's throat to chomp down on the Scout. Only the Scout's reflexes saved him, enabling him to dive out of the way just in time. However, the man's bat was reduced to splinters by the Spinosaurus's teeth.

The Medic took up a position behind the T-Rex and activated his Medi Gun, healing the T-Rex's wounds quickly. Soon, the T-Rex's UberCharge was activated, as was the Medic's. "Ze healing is not as rewarding as ze hurting," he said to his pet dove Archimedes, as the T-Rex leaped upon the Spinosaurus with fury. The rest of the mercenaries backed off, watching the ferocious battle.

For a while, it appeared that the T-Rex had the upper hand. But once the UberCharge wore off, it was all over. The Spinosaurus leaped upon the T-Rex and pinned it to the ground. As the battle raged, Dr. Grant crawled toward the others. "We've got to go!" he told them.

Earthshaking roars pierced the jungle as the two predators continued their fight, and the humans vanished among the trees.

"Mr. Kirby, there's no such thing as Kirby Enterprises, is there?" guessed Dr. Grant when they found a safe spot.

"There's Kirby Paint and Tile Plus," said Paul. "The Plus stands for bathroom fixtures. We're in the Westgate Shopping Center, Enid, Oklahoma."

Dr. Grant sighed. This meant that the check Paul had wrote them wasn't any good. "Billy, we'll go back to the plane, salvage what we can," he instructed. "We make for the coast."

Paul put an arm around his wife. "Dr. Grant, we're not leaving this island without our son," he said.

Dr. Grant nodded. "Then you can go and look for him."

Paul Kirby cast a suspicious glance at the assorted group of men behind him, licking their wounds from battle. "You're not really mercenaries, are you?" he asked.

"Non," said the Spy as he flicked his butterfly knife around his fingers. "You are mistaken, my friend. We never said we were."

"So . . . what do we do?" asked Kirby.

The Spy flicked his knife closed. "We should look for your son in the direction they are going."

"Excellent," said Paul, "excellent."

The Spy flicked away his used cigarette and took a new one from the case. "Oh please." When Paul's back was turned, the Spy grinned, and did a short dance while clicking his fingers and cigarette case like pincers, much to the amusement of the other mercenaries.

They set off through the jungle after Dr. Grant and Billy.

The eleven survivors returned to the wreckage of the plane to search for food and equipment. Paul and Amanda changed clothes. The Sniper found a rifle, but it was bent. "That's some shonky business right there!" he said.

Billy found his camera and began taking pictures of the Spinosaurus footprints.

"How would you classify that creature?" Dr. Grant asked, pointing to the tracks.

The Heavy overheard them, and remarked ominously, "I fear no man. But that thing . . . it scares me."

Billy shrugged. "Obviously a super-predator. Maybe a Suchomimus?"

"They never got that big," Dr. Grant said.

"Then I give up," Billy said.

"It's a Spinosaurus aegypticus," Dr. Grant informed his student.

The Soldier found himself a pickaxe, and hefted it in his hands. "If I have to crack some skulls, I'll do it with this," he said.

The Medic unearthed a bone saw from a first aid kit. "Excellent!" he cried.

Nothing else was worth using. Most of the stuff had been damaged in the crash. Although, the Heavy located a Sandvich that was still edible. He hid it inside his shirt for later use.

As they headed for the coast, Amanda called her son's name over and over again.

"Quiet!" Paul told his wife. "Dr. Grant says this is dangerous territory."

"Who cares?" Amanda cried. "Dr. Grant isn't looking for our son!"

"Hey, look?" Billy said, pointing to a parasail dangling from a tree. Paul checked the gear.

"It's Eric's! He's here," Paul said excitedly. Then he spotted something in the weeds.

"That's Ben's camera," Amanda cried.

The video camera still worked, so Paul played back the tape. On the recording, the two were parasailing when Eric took the camera.

"Hey, no no no, I want that. Let me take that. Hey, come on, give me that. There's a cliff! There's a big cliff!" They crash landed into a tree. Eric was safe, but Ben was hurt and stuck in the tree. Eric was climbing up the tree to help Ben when the tape ran out.

"He's alive," Paul said. "I know he's alive."

But then Billy tugged the parasail out of the tree, and Amanda screamed. A man-size skeleton was tangled in the branches. It had been hidden behind the parasail.

"It's Ben!" Amanda sobbed, recognizing his clothes.

As Billy rolled up the parasail and stuffed it into his backpack, Amanda began to cry. "He's alone out there. Our baby's alone."

"Don't worry," Paul said. "We'll find him." With that, both Kirbys went back to calling out their missing son's name with a will.

Meanwhile, the Scout was eyeing Ben's skeletal remains. He reached down and separated the arms and legs from the spine, and then plucked off each of the ribs.

When it was done, he held in his hands a Bat Outta Hell, made from the spine and skull of the skeleton.

Billy took one look and grimaced. "You are sick, you know that?" he told the Scout. "Sick."

The Scout took his new bat and spun it around both hands. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're a genius."

"Dr. Grant! Look here, mein kamerad!" the Medic called.

The Medic was staring at a hole in the ground. Inside were lots of eggs.

"Raptors," Dr. Grant said grimly.

"What is raptor?" asked the Heavy.

"It's a predatory dinosaur. If we see one, we might live," Dr. Grant told them.

"That's good!" Paul said in relief.

"But you never find just one," Dr. Grant added. "Raptors hunt in packs."

The group moved on, but after a few minutes, Amanda realized someone was missing. "Where's Billy?" she asked Dr. Grant.

"Billy!" Dr. Grant shouted. "BILLY!"

Billy ran up to them, camera in hand. "I got some great pictures of the nest. This proves raptors raised their young in colonies. We could write a paper!"

Dr. Grant grunted with anger. Losing Billy, even for a moment, had really shaken him. "Let's go," he said.

After a long trek through the jungle, they found InGen's abandoned laboratory. The buildings were falling apart and rusty cars were scattered around the compound.

"I'll bet Eric is here," Paul said. "Eric!"

"Paul!" Amanda reprimanded her husband.

Soon they found an area filled with computers and huge incubators. Tubes and wires hung everywhere. Half-formed creatures floated inside glass tanks.

"This is how you make dinosaurs?" Amanda asked.

"This is how you play God," Dr. Grant answered.

While Billy took pictures, the others looked around. Amanda was surprised to find a full-grown raptor head inside one of the tanks. As she leaned in for a closer look, the head moved.

Suddenly, a hungry raptor darted out from behind the machinery. The dinosaur tried to bite Amanda, but its huge head was pinned to the ground by the Heavy's enormous hands. The Spy flicked out his butterfly knife and performed a backstab on the raptor, fatally wounding it.

The Spy stood up, his knife covered in blood. "You got blood on my suit," he sighed. Then he turned to the Heavy. "Much appreciated, amigo."

"We make good team!" the Heavy said.

The Medic pulled out a glowing chest X-ray of a rib cage and an implanted bomb. He laughed and said, "You're dead!" to the raptor, then crumpled and tossed the X-ray image.

But contrary to the Medic's prognosis, the raptor was still barely alive. It began crying for help. Other raptor voices began howling in reply. The noise came from all around them.

"It's calling for help!" Dr. Grant realized.

"Come on!" Paul Kirby shouted. The humans ran out of the building and rushed through the parking lot towards the jungle.

All of a sudden, a pack of hungry raptors charged forward. Hoping to evade them, Dr. Grant led the others into the middle of a hadrosaur herd, which was munching grass near the jungle's edge. But the predators ignored the plant eaters. For some reason, the raptors only wanted the humans!

As everyone scattered, Dr. Grant saw Billy trip over a root and drop his camera bag. Dr. Grant snatched it up. "Keep going!" he called to Billy.

Paul and Amanda Kirby scattered up separate trees, and the rest of the Team Fortress 2 mercenaries followed suit, as did Billy Brennan. But as Paul counted the mercenaries, he realized one was missing. "Sniper!"

On the forest floor, the wounded Sniper crawled slowly towards the middle of the clearing. A raptor came up behind him and stepped on his back, stabbing him with its razor-sharp claw. "Yeeeaaaagghhh!" the Sniper screamed. The two raptors ran off into the brush.

"Run cowards!" the Heavy roared. "Run home to Mama!" He drew his Iron Curtain and jumped out of the tree.

But quick as lightning three raptors surrounded the amazed Russian. He was ambushed from all sides, but fought bravely. His minigun dropped one of the raptors from afar. Then he dropped the gun and used his fists, punching one of the beasts straight in the eye.

A second raptor circled behind the Heavy and sliced into the man's skin with its talons and teeth. The Heavy fell to the ground.

Suddenly, another raptor burst from the bushes and attacked the second one, clawing and biting it. The second raptor could not hold up against this onslaught, and collapsed dead next to the Heavy.

Everyone held their breath to see what happened next. Surprisingly, the raptor shimmered, then changed shape into the Spy. He put away his Disguise Kit and muttered, "Oh, dear, I've made quite a mess."

The Heavy pulled the Sandvich out of his shirt and took a hearty bite, showering chunks of food from his mouth. Then he turned and shouted out into the jungle, "I am full of sandvich, and I am coming for you!"

"They set a trap!" realized the astonished Billy Brennan, referring to the raptors. "They actually set a trap!"

The Sniper's Reanimator lay on the ground. The Medic drew his Med Gun and focused the healing rays on the box. After a few moments, the Sniper reappeared and nodded thankfully at the Medic. "You're a miracle worker, doc!"

The Medic took a heroic pose as doves and a bright light surrounded him.

Meanwhile, Dr. Grant was cut off from the group, and surrounded by three more raptors. Suddenly he saw a metal canister bounce into the clearing. With a hiss, it began to spew smelly smoke. The raptors barked and ran away, their eyes stinging from the oily fog.

Then Dr. Grant saw a shape outlined in the smoke. A human shape. "This way!" a boy's voice called. "Hurry!"

The smoke stung Dr. Grant's eyes, and he could not make out who his rescuer was. So he just followed where the boy led. Eventually, they came to a tanker truck buried up to its headlights in a swamp. Dr. Grant climbed into the truck and found himself in a small space lit by a battery-powered lamp.

"Thanks a lot, Eric," said Dr. Grant.

Eric removed the suit that had kept him from feeling the effects of the gas bomb. "You know who I am?" he asked Dr. Grant.

"Yeah," Dr. Grant replied. "Your parents are here. They're looking for you."

Dr. Grant watched the thirteen-year-old seal the hatch. Eric was no longer an ordinary boy. There was something wild and primitive about him. The kid had certainly learned how to be a survivor.

"You're Alan Grant!" Eric realized, recognizing the man from his book photos. "What are you doing here?"

"Your parents . . . invited me here."

"I read your books," Eric said. "The first is the best. You liked dinosaurs back then."

"Back then, dinosaurs hadn't tried to eat me."

Dr. Grant looked around. There were lamps, a pair of binoculars, and lots of candy wrappers. Eric had been living on chocolate for weeks.

"When InGen cleared out, they left a lot of stuff behind," the boy explained.

"Any weapons?" asked Dr. Grant.

"No," Eric replied. "And I just used the last of the gas grenades."

"I'm surprised you've lasted eight weeks," Dr. Grant told the boy. He picked up a bottle of yellowish liquid.

"Be careful with that," Eric warned. "T-Rex urine. It scares some of the small ones away, but it attracts a really big one with a fin."

Eric took the bottle. Suddenly both of them heard a squeaking noise. "Listen," said Eric. "Compys!"

A group of Compysaurs had gathered outside the truck, but a whiff of Eric's bottle sent them away. Then the boy handed Dr. Grant a candy bar, and they settled in for the night.

At dawn, Eric and Dr. Grant crawled out of their hiding place. "How much of this island have you explored?" Dr. Grant asked.

"I stayed pretty close to the compound," said Eric.

"Well, I say we head for the coast," said Dr. Grant. "We'll keep an eye out for your parents and the mercenaries as we go. It's the best plan."

Sometime later, Dr. Grant and Eric came upon a valley. Eric pointed down at the river far below. "Dr. Grant!" he said excitedly. "There's a boat!"

Dr. Grant held the binoculars to his eyes. An old barge was moored alongside the bank of the river. "Yeah, there's a boat," he said, "right alongside the bank. Looks in good shape. We could follow the river out to the ocean, where the Coast Guard will find us."

"Then we go home?" Eric whispered.

Dr. Grant nodded. "Then we go home."

Suddenly, Eric put his hand to his ear. "Listen!" he said.

"What?" asked Dr. Grant. Then he heard it—the melodic ringing of a cell phone!"

"That's my dad's satellite phone!" Eric cried excitedly. Then he began to yell: "Mom! Dad!"

Not far away, Billy and the others heard Eric's voice. "Eric!" cried Paul.

He and Amanda raced through the jungle until they were stopped by a metal fence with rusty spikes along the top. On the other side, they saw Dr. Grant and Eric.

"Sweetheart!" Amanda cried. "You're okay!" She hugged her boy through the fence.

Billy was relieved to see Dr. Grant alive, and happy to see he had the camera bag, too.

"How did you know we were here?" Paul Kirby asked.

"That phone!" Eric replied. "That stupid jingle from the store, I heard it!"

Paul was surprised. "I don't have it. I loaned it to Nash. He must have had it when he . . ."

Before Paul could say another word, the humans heard a low growl. At the edge of the forest, the Spinosaurus stood staring at them. The ringing was coming from the creature's belly.

Then the Spinosaurus roared, and Dr. Grant realized the creature was on his side of the fence!"

"Run!" he yelled.

Eric and Dr. Grant took off with the Spinosaurus crashing through the trees on their heels. Paul, Amanda, Billy and the mercenaries ran alongside them. As they ran, Dr. Grant spotted a hole in the fence. "Through there!" he cried.

Eric jumped through the gap with Dr. Grant right behind him. The Spinosaurus snapped its jaws shut, barely missing Dr. Grant's legs.

The Scout took the opportunity to smack his baseball through the hole, into the Spinosaurus's closed jaws. The dinosaur roared and stood up, spitting out a broken tooth.

"I broke your stupid crap, moron!" the Scout laughed. But his cocky mood changed as the Spinosaurus ripped its way through the rusted fence, then stomped over the wreckage after its fleeing prey.

Dr. Grant saw a concrete building ahead. It had stout walls and was perched on the side of a steep canyon. He led the group through its doorway. Then the humans slammed the heavy metal door and bolted it. They could hear the Spinosaurus howling in rage as it tried to break through. The bolts strained, but held.

When they were safe, Billy approached his teacher. "Sorry, Dr. Grant. I could've gotten you killed. What did you do with them?"

Dr. Grant was puzzled. "With what?"

"In my bag," Billy said nervously.

Dr. Grant opened the camera bag and stared at its contents—two raptor eggs. "Raptor eggs!" he breathed.

"I took them on an impulse," Billy explained. "I thought they'd be worth a fortune, enough to fund the dig site for another ten years—"

Dr. Grant shook his head angrily, unable to believe what he'd just heard. But there was no time for anger. They had to get out of there. "There's a boat at the bottom, just downriver. We'll try and make it to the coast, at least."

In the room was a spiral staircase that led down into the canyon. Dr. Grant climbed down. The others followed.

"What if they catch us with them?" asked Paul, referring to the raptors eggs.

"What if they catch us without them?" Dr. Grant replied. He stopped on a landing and held the camera bag over the edge of the canyon. He was ready to smash the eggs on the ground far below, but the Spy stopped him.

"Wait, mon ami," he said, the smoke from his cigarette filing lazily upwards into the air. "If you've got something the other fellow wants, you don't throw it away. Those raptors may want us dead, but they want these eggs more. That's the only advantage we've got."

Dr. Grant knew that the Spy was right. He placed the camera bag in his backpack.

Through a break in the mist below, Dr. Grant spotted the river at the base of the canyon. But when he stepped off the landing and onto the next set of rusting steps, the staircase suddenly broke free and tumbled down the canyon wall.

The Heavy pulled Dr. Grant back to the landing just in time.

After catching his breath, Dr. Grant looked around. "How about if we try that way?" he asked, pointing to a covered catwalk that spanned the canyon like a narrow bridge. The far end of the catwalk was invisible in the mist—but it was their last hope.

Amanda was nervous. "Do you think it goes all the way across?"

Dr. Grant shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He stepped onto the catwalk and felt it sway back and forth. "It's not that strong. We'd better cross one at a time," he told the others.

When he reached a sturdy landing halfway across the canyon, he stepped off the catwalk to rest. He couldn't see the others through the mist, so he called out to them, "Come on over! One at a time."

On the other side of the catwalk, the Spy cleared his throat. "After you," he said to Amanda.

A few minutes later, Amanda arrived at Dr. Grant's side. "Come on, Eric!" she called to her son.

Eric slowly walked into the thick fog. The narrow structure swayed under his feet. He couldn't see very far in any direction.

Halfway across, Eric heard a loud thump. A dark shape appeared through the haze. Something else was on the catwalk with him.

"Mom?" Eric called softly.

On the catwalk's landing, Dr. Grant was studying the steel mesh net around them. The net was gigantic, covering the entire canyon like a cage. But why would InGen want to build a canyon-sized cage? Dr. Grant wondered.

He looked on the landing handrail. A pile of white droppings were splattered over it. Wiping some off onto his fingers, he sniffed it. Suddenly, he gasped.

"What is it?" Amanda asked.

"This is a birdcage!" Dr. Grant cried.

From somewhere in the fog, Eric screamed. Hearing his son's screams, Paul charged onto the catwalk. But it was too late. A Pteranodon had already snatched Eric up in its claws and was flying off with him. Eric struggled in the creature's grip, but it did no good.

"Eric!" cried Paul in horror.

The Scout dashed forward and leaped off the catwalk into the air. He strained his arms to reach the escaping bird. His fingers met with Eric's sneakers, and he grabbed hold.

The Pteranodon's wings could not support the added weight, and they all dropped into the dinosaur's nest.

Eric and the Scout landed on a pile of bones. Instantly, six baby Pteranodons lunged at them, beaks snapping. "Get behind me, kid!" the Scout said, determined to fend off the hungry babies for as long as he could.

But he was all out of ammo. "This is a real freaking embarrassment."

A missile flew out of nowhere and took out a Pteranodon that had been aiming for the Scout. The Scout looked back up at the catwalk, where the Soldier held his smoking Air Strike in his hands. "Scout!" he called. "I got your six!"

With the Soldier covering him, the Scout took a refreshing gulp of Bonk! Atomic Punch. "Un-freaking-touchable!" he shouted.

The baby Pteranodons snapped their beaks at him, but he dodged them all. "Ha. Missed me! That didn't hurt. Psyche!"

Eric kept behind the Scout for protection, so the babies couldn't get him. But the effects of the Bonk! Atomic Punch wouldn't last forever. To make matters worse, several Pteranodons had begun attacking the others on the catwalk.

"Dispenser comin' right up," announced the Engineer. A Dispense-O-Matic 9000 unfolded shortly after. With their ammunition running low, the mercenaries crowded around the Dispenser. The Engineer began scrambling for any spare metal on the catwalk, and upgraded the Dispenser to Level Two.

"Grab some steel, boys, they're coming!" he shouted. Then he took out his trusty guitar, played a chord, and smashed a Pteranodon in the beak with it.

The Spy had begun to cross the catwalk when a Pteranodon landed in front of him. He put his knife to his other hand and assumed a fencing position. He made two quick slashes and one thrust while saying, "I'm going to gut you like a Cornish game hen."

The Spy ran towards the Pteranodon. When he got close, he dropped to the ground and slid underneath the winged dinosaur's body. Then he shot out his Sharp Dresser wristblade and sliced open the Pteranodon's belly.

The dinosaur screeched and fell over the edge of the catwalk. "With my apologies," the Spy called down, and continued towards Dr. Grant and Amanda.

He failed to notice the Pteranodon diving down on him from behind. The bird ran the Frenchman through with its sharp beak. His bloody body fell over the catwalk and disappeared without a sound. Amanda screamed, when suddenly the Spy appeared next to them.

The Spy held up his golden Dead Ringer watch. "Sorry to 'pop in' unannounced," he apologized.

The Sniper was targeting the Pteranodon that had "killed" the Spy with his Machina rifle. "You bloody piker," he whispered, staring through the Machina rifle's scope at the winged creature.

Then he fired, and the shot went clean through the Pteranodon's head. The bird landed heavily on the catwalk and didn't get up.

Dr. Grant was shocked to see Billy climbing back up to the observation deck. He looked ready to jump.

"Billy! Stop! Don't, Billy!" Dr. Grant shouted.

"I know the consequences!" Billy replied.

Then he jumped. He dropped a long way; then a chute opened above him like a colorful umbrella. It was the parasail they had found in the jungle.

"Wow, I can almost see my house from here!" Billy joked. "Eric! Scout! Jump!"

As Billy swooped over the nest, Eric and the Scout jumped up and caught either of his legs. They were lifted over the heads of the snapping Pteranodons.

Suddenly, the mother Pteranodon dived out of the sky with an angry shriek. Her beak ripped a hole through the parasail. The humans spun in the air.

"Let go, now!" Billy cried.

Eric and the Scout plunged into the cold river. When they came up again, they were gasping for air.

Billy and the crippled parasail slammed into the side of the cliff. His harness caught on a spire of rock.

Meanwhile, Dr. Grant, Paul, Amanda, and the mercenaries were trapped on the crumbling catwalk with flock of Pteranodons circling above them. There was nowhere to go but down.

The humans tumbled into the river. They hit the water hard and swam for shore.

Billy was still trapped on the cliff. A Pteranodon swooped low, coming in for an attack. Its beak cut the harness, and Billy plunged into the river. But as he waded to shore, the whole flock of Pteranodons swarmed him.

"Billy!" screamed Dr. Grant.

"It's no use," Paul said, seeing more Pteranodons heading their way.

He pulled Dr. Grant toward the double-gated fence that the Heavy was holding open. The others had already raced through. The Engineer was the last one to come through, being chased after by Pteranodons.

"Heavy load comin' through!" he shouted, holding the Dispenser. "Outta mah way! Outta mah way!"

He made it through as the Heavy slammed the gate shut. The angry Pteranodons shrieked and cawed in rage, battering the gate with their bodies.

The Engineer replanted the Dispenser. "Phew! That there wasn't getting' any lighter." The Scout came over and refueled on ammunition.

The humans moved on, unaware that the rusty lock on the gate was beginning to weaken . . .

The weary humans climbed aboard the rusty barge. There was a huge empty cage on the deck, once used for transporting dinosaurs.

As they floated downriver, Dr. Grant watched the giant birdcage fade into the distance. He blamed himself for what happened to Billy.

Eric sat down beside him. "Do you have any kids?" he asked.

"No," Dr. Grant replied. "Although I've studied them in the wild."

Eric laughed.

"There are two kinds of boys," Dr. Grant said. "Those who want to be astronomers and those who want to be astronauts."

"I want to be an astronaut," Eric replied.

"I was different," Dr. Grant told him. "I never understood why anyone would want to go into space. It's dangerous. One mistake and you're dead. The astronomer—or in my case, the paleontologist—gets to study things from a place of complete safety."

"But then you never get to go into space," Eric pointed out.

"That's the difference between imagining and seeing," Dr. Grant said. "Being able to tough things. That's what Billy wanted to do."

Dr. Grant fell silent. The barge rounded a bend in the river, and the setting sun illuminated a sight that left him speechless.

Spread out before them was an entire valley filled with dinosaurs. There were Ankylosaurus with massive club tails, duck-billed Corythosaurs, plated Stegosaurus, and triple-horned Triceratops.

In silence the barge floated by, passing beneath the long neck of a Brachiosaurus. The Engineer unfolded a toolbox which produced a lawn chair, a small umbrella, and several beer bottles. He then sat down, took a swig of beer, and belched. "Ooh, mmm, that's good!" he said, staring at the dinosaurs.

It was a breathtaking vision. With a sigh, the scientist finally admitted to himself that while Jurassic Park was full of danger and violence and death, it was also full of wonder and beauty and possibilities.

"I can blame the people who made this island. But I can't blame the people who want to see it. To study it," confessed Dr. Grant. "After all, how's a boy supposed to resist this?"

A full moon rose in the sky as the barge chugged downriver. On deck, the humans heard a familiar jingle. The satellite phone was ringing.

"Quiet!" whispered Dr. Grant, sure that the Spinosaurus was close by.

They spotted large brown mounds of Spinosaurus dung on the flat shore. The ringing sound was coming from one of those piles.

Everyone rushed ashore. They held their breath as they dug into the smelly mounds.

"I've got it!" Amanda cried, pulling the telephone out of the stinky mess. It was still ringing. She activated the phone.

"Vacation in Mexico," a recorded voice said. "You can enjoy a meal in one of our fabulous restaurants or—"

She shut off the phone to save power.

Suddenly, a hungry Carnotaurus stomped out of the jungle. The creature took one sniff of the dung-covered humans and lumbered away. Not even a dinosaur would eat something that smelled as bad as they did.

"I can't help but be a little offended," Paul said.

The Demoman and Pyro's Reanimators lay at the tops of both heaps. The Medic revived the Demoman first. The Scottish black sprang up from the dung heap, shouting, "Back from the bloody grave!" at the top of his lungs. "Oh, I need a drink!"

The Demoman took a swig from his bottle, bit off the tip of a grenade and drank the contents. He then produced a lighter and ignited the contents while spewing a small mushroom cloud.

Next came the Pyro. Rather than swear eternal revenge on the Spinosaurus for eating him, he produced a pink unicorn balloon animal. He then produced a lighter, lit it, and giggled while clapping his hands.

The Heavy paled. "That is exact reason why I fear him most of all. Pyro is planning revenge but keeping straight face."

As night fell, they cleaned the satellite phone and tested it. The battery light was flashing. There was not much power left.

"Don't call the United States embassy," Paul said. "They won't do a thing."

"We have to call someone we can count on to help us," said Dr. Grant.

Eric noticed a movement under the surface of the water. He pointed it out to Dr. Grant. Just then, a fish leaped out of the water. Then another.

"Something scared them," said Eric.

Dr. Grant looked at Paul. "Get the motor started," he said urgently.

Climbing to the top of the wheelhouse for better reception, Dr. Grant dialed the phone.

Back in America, little Charlie answered. "Hewwo?"

"It's the dinosaur man," said Dr. Grant. "Get your mommy."

"It's the dinosaur man!" Charlie said.

But all Ellie Satler heard was a dial tone. What did Dr. Grant want? she wondered, and punched *69 to find out.

The Spinosaurus rose from the water and slammed into the barge. Dr. Grant stumbled and dropped the phone. He jumped off the wheelhouse seconds before the creature tore the structure away.

The Kirbys and mercenaries took cover inside the rusty cage on the deck. Dr. Grant jumped in, too. Then the barge began to sink—with the humans inside the cage.

The phone rang. Dr. Grant reached through the bars to grab it off the deck.

"Ellie!" he cried. "Can you hear me?"

Ellied heard Dr. Grant, then the unmistakable roar of a live dinosaur.

"Site B!" Dr. Grant screamed. "The river—"

Then the line went dead.

When the sound of tearing metal, the Spinosaurus ripped the cage from the deck. The creature tossed the metal box, trying to find a way to get to the humans inside.

Suddenly, the cage door sprang open and Paul plunged into the river. He knew if anyone was going to save his family, it would have to be him. He spotted the tower of an abandoned crane and swam to the structure. Climbing halfway up the crane, Paul waved his arms at the Spinosaurus.

"Hey! HEY! Over here! Over HERE!"

The creature spied Paul and pushed the cage aside. It fell into the river and sank, the humans still inside. The Spinosaurus went after Paul, who dangled from the crane like a tasty worm on the end of a fishing hook.

Dr. Grant, Amanda, and Eric swam out of the cage and to the surface. Dr. Grant pushed the others toward the shore.

"Run! Amanda! Get Eric away from here!" Paul cried as the Spinosaurus slammed its bulk against the crane. Paul hung on as the crane shook from the impact.

The Soldier refused to stand by and watch Paul die helplessly. "Charge!" he shouted to the men, and swam off.

The Scout was the second one to follow. "Let's get 'em!" he yelled.

The Spy turned to the rest of the mercenaries. "Gentlemen?" he asked. That was all it took. With each one screaming his personal battle cry, the mercenaries drew their primary weapons and waded knee-deep into the water, where they could fire at the Spinosaurus while on safe ground.

The Demoman had a personal vendetta against the Spinosaurus for eating him. "I had me good eye on you the whole time!" he growled as he drew his Scottish Resistance stickybomb launcher and fired fourteen stickybombs onto the Spinosaurus's body.

The Spinosaurus roared in pain as the Demoman detonated the stickybombs and its skin erupted with explosions.

The Demoman spun around, thumped his chest twice, and made a V-sign with his fingers. "How's that feel, ya blockhead?" he shouted. "They're goin' ta bury what's left of ye in a soup can!"

"Way to go, pally!" called the Scout as he double jumped over the Demoman's head. In midair, he tossed a bottle of thermonuclear Mad Milk into the Spinosaurus's face. "Yo, heads up!" he announced.

The milk splashed directly into the Spinosaurus's face, and white beads began dropping off of its reptilian head. The Scout used this distraction to chug a can of Crit-a-Cola, and his Bat Outta Hell started glowing with red energy.

As the Scout passed over the Spinosaurus's head, he dealt the dinosaur a series of mini-crits with his bat. Once he was out of range, he switched to his Back Scatter, and fired four shots before the Crit-a-Cola wore off. "Aw, crap," he muttered.

The Soldier took a lesson from the Scout. "Good thinking, soldier!" he said. Pointing his Air Strike at the ground, he rocket-jumped onto the Spinosaurus's head. Then he drew his pickaxe and dealt the dinosaur a series of swift, repeated blows.

"Maggot!" the Soldier shouted. "Time to inform your next of kin!"

The Sniper, the Spy and the Engineer had all swam over to join Paul on the crane. The Sniper was standing on the landing, scoping the Spinosaurus's head. "Your head looks bloody twelve feet tall," he whispered.

The Sniper fired, and the Spinosaurus roared, flinging its head back and knocking the Soldier into the water. Quickly the Sniper drew a jar of Jarate and flung it into the dinosaur's open mouth. "Bombs away!" he called. The jar burst inside the Spinosaurus's mouth.

The Spy also fired from his Ambassador, the Fancy Fedora on his head keeping the rain from extinguishing his cigar. The Engineer had built a Class 3 Sentry Gun, and watched proudly as it fired at the Spinosaurus. "I built that."

Enraged, the dinosaur roared and turned towards the crane. But by now, the Heavy's Ubercharge had been activated. Glowing red, the Russian turned to the Medic. "Get behind me, doctor!" He warmed up his Iron Curtain, saying, "Now is dinosaur killing time!"

Smoke poured from the vent on the minigun as it spat out bullet after bullet at the Spinosaurus. "I am bulletproof!" the Heavy screamed.

The dinosaur roared in pain, and the Heavy laughed maniacally. "Cry some more!" he said, mocking a baby. "Weeeeh! Waaaah!"

But Dr. Grant knew the UberCharge wouldn't last forever. Then he noticed a black blot on the water near the creature—an oil slick. Fuel must have leaked from the barge.

Dr. Grant turned to the Pyro. "Pull the trigger!" he said, pointing to the oily mess.

The Pyro let a long burst of flame fly from his Degreaser. The river exploded in fire. Flames surrounded the Spinosaurus. The creature howled, and the Pyro thrust his weapon in the air, cackling triumphantly.

The Spinosaurus raced ashore to escape. On its way, the Spinosaurus toppled the crane.

Those on the shore watched in horror as Paul, the Spy, the Sniper and the Engineer plunged into the fiery river and vanished from sight.

"Dad! Dad!" Eric cried. But there was no sign of his father.

"We should keep moving," Dr. Grant said gently, as the rest of the mercenaries swam to shore.

"NO!" Eric howled. "We can't leave Dad."

Amanda steadied her son. "Let me tell you a few things about your dad," she said. "He's very clever, very brave, and he loves you very, very much."

Eric wiped away a tear. "He loves you, too."

"He loves us," Amanda continued. "And I know that your dad would want to know that we're safe."

"I'm not going anywhere," a voice said form out of the darkness. Paul and the three mercenaries, half-drowned, stepped out of the shadows. Eric rushed to his father and hugged him. So did Amanda.

At sunrise, they began moving again. As they walked along a narrow path, Eric caught up with Dr. Grant. "That lady you called. How do you know she can help us?"

"She's the one person I can always count on," Dr. Grant said. "She's saved my skin more times than she realizes."

A noise from far away reached their ears.

"Did you hear that?" Dr. Grant asked.

Eric nodded with excitement. "It's the ocean!"

The group rushed forward, bursting into a clearing. Above them, the sun was bright and the sky cloudless. But suddenly, a dark shadow fell over them. A dozen raptors quickly circled the humans.

The mercenaries drew their weapons, but to everyone's surprise the raptors did not attack.

"They want the eggs," Dr. Grant said. "Otherwise we'd be dead already."

Cautiously, Dr. Grant eased the backpack off his shoulders. A female raptor stomped forward, eyeing him.

"Everyone get down," Dr. Grant whispered. "She's challenging us."

The humans dropped to their knees. The female raptor walked over to Amanda.

"She thinks I stole the eggs!" Amanda gasped. "Give me the eggs," she whispered to Dr. Grant.

Cautiously, Dr. Grant reached into his backpack and pulled out the camera bag. As he did, his fingers brushed against something he'd put in there days ago—the sculpted model of a raptor's resonating chamber.

He slowly pulled it out, put it to his lips, and blew, trying to recreate the same eerie pitch he'd heard the raptors make. The raptors snarled and inched closer.

"No, no, no, call for help!" Paul told Dr. Grant.

Dr. Grant blew again, mimicking the raptors' call for help. The raptors barked, but did not attack. Then they made the same eerie sound in reply.

Dr. Grant's theory was correct. He was communicating with raptors.

Suddenly, the raptors tilted their heads as they heard a new sound. The humans strained their ears, but did not recognize the noise until a moment later. Helicopters!

Working quickly, Amanda took the eggs from Dr. Grant and placed them on the sand.

The female moved closer. She picked up an egg. The male raptor came forward and grabbed the second one. Then the creatures took off, vanishing into the jungle.

Dr. Grant and the Kirbys quickly got up and hurried over a low hill, followed by the mercenaries. A man in a business suit stood on the beach, a bullhorn in his hand.

"Dr. Grant?" the man asked.

Dr. Grant halted in his tracks. So did the rest of them. They were stunned by what they saw.

Dozens of U.S. Navy warships plowed through the waves off the coast of Isla Sorna. Military helicopters hovered in the air while others idled on the beach. A squad of United States Marines fanned out along the beach in a defensive perimeter, weapons ready.

"Wow!" Eric cried.

They had been rescued.

The mercenaries were so relieved that they went into a wild square dance. They circled up and began clapping their hands as the Engineer brought out a fiddle to play a lively tune. The Scout jumped into the middle of the ring, saying, "Gotta dance, I gotta dance!"

He grabbed the Spy and swung the man round and round. "Ugh," groaned the Frenchman, "the do-si-do!"

After swinging his partner round and round, the Scout released the Spy and jumped back into the circle. "Boom!" he shouted. "I am a dance machine!"

The Spy wiped his suit and adjusted his tie. "And we're done! Time to shower."

Paul and Amanda felt themselves pushed into the ring by the Heavy. "Is time to dance!"

The couple took to dancing with a will, laughing all the while. Eric pulled Dr. Grant into the ring as well. "Come on!" he said.

The Heavy sang along to the beat. "Do do do, do si do! Ha ha ha!"

After a few moments of this, the man in the business suit cleared his throat. "Sirs, we really should be getting off this island. There are still dinosaurs about."

But even this did not hamper the mercenaries' rejoicing. The Heavy, Pyro and Soldier started up a conga line to the helicopters. "Heavy is credit to conga line!" the Heavy shouted.

The Pyro bounced in rhythm to the Latin beat while humming cheerfully.

"Single file!" ordered the Soldier.

"Are those Latin rhythms?" asked the Scout. "I love Latin rhythyms!"

He fell in line, clapping his hands above his head. "It's no problem. I do this all the time. I could do this for money. I don't, but I could!"

"Yeehaw, yeehaw, yeehaw!" whooped the Engineer.

"Ah, c'est magnifique!" the Spy sighed.

Single file and bouncing to the beat, the group filed into three separate Marine Corps helicopters. The Kirbys and Dr. Grant took one of the helicopters, the Spy, Sniper, Medic, Engineer, and Soldier took another, and the Scout, Pyro, Heavy, and Demoman took the third.

Before getting onto his helicopter, the Scout bent his knees slightly with his hands interlocked to form a platform. "Who wants to flip?"

The Pyro came over. "Alright, let's do this!" said the Scout. "Let's do some flipping!"

The Pyro was flipped, performing a somersault in midair while chuckling happily. He landed inside the helicopter, and the Scout said, "Perfect landing!"

The Demoman was next. He also landed in the helicopter, though a bit more awkwardly. He steadied himself. "Oh, I must be drunk!" he said.

The Heavy was last. The Scout strained under the big man's weight. "Up ya go!" The Heavy performed a somersault and landed on his head inside the helicopter.

The Scout burst out laughing. "Classic!"

But the Heavy missed the humor. "Is not funny," he growled, picking himself up.

As Dr. Grant climbed aboard his own helicopter, he saw a young man lying on a stretcher.

There were bandages on his arms, and the top of his head was covered by gauze. He was hurt, but he was alive.

"Billy!" Dr. Grant cried, stunned. "You're okay!"

Billy smiled. Then he gestured to the battered fedora on the floor next to the stretcher. "I rescued your hat," he said.

"Well, that's the important thing, isn't it?" teased Dr. Grant.

"He lost a lot of blood," a Marine said as Billy closed his eyes, "but he'll be fine."

Relieved, Dr. Grant sat down and strapped in as the helicopter took off. As they flew away from the island, the pilot pointed.

"Hostile at nine o'clock!" he cried as Pteranodons surrounded the aircraft. In the other helicopters, the mercenaries grabbed their weapons.

Dr. Grant relived the man in the suit of his bullhorn and called out to the other choppers. "They're just flying in formation," he explained. "They think we're one of us."

Eric watched the creatures. "Where do you think they're going?" he asked.

"To find a nesting ground," Dr. Grant replied. "It's a whole new world for them."

"As long as they don't nest in Enid, Oklahoma, that's fine with me," Amanda said. Then she turned to her husband. "Let's go home, Paul."

The copilot handed a radio headset to Dr. Grant. "It's for you."

It was Ellie. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Dr. Grant smiled. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Thank goodness!"

He heard the relief in her voice. Then she said, "Alan, I thought you never wanted to go back to Jurassic Park. You said there was nothing for you to learn there."

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"So what were you doing?" she asked.

Dr. Grant watched the Pteranodons as they flew toward the rising sun of a new day.

"Evolving," he replied.