Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Emily Grant
My name is Emily Grant. I'm sixteen, and Dr. Alan Grant is my father. My mother died a few months ago and I was sent to live with my father full time. Most of my life he has been out on digs looking for fossils. I have spent most of the past three summers hanging out with him at the sites. To say that a future in paleontology is what I want, that would be an understatement.
Being the daughter of Dr. Grant, I have a deep love and respect for dinosaurs. I have already completed high school and am doing my first year of university by correspondence. What better way to gain experience than to apprentice at an official paleontological dig? My relationship with my father, strained at best.
Dr. Ellie Sattler is his girlfriend. She likes to say we’re like forces repelling each other like a magnet. It’s probably true, but I don’t like to admit it. I wasn’t sure about Ellie when I first met her. It could have been the age difference between her and my dad. I am closer in age to her than he is.
But, I have to say that she’s been great throughout my current life upheaval. She stepped into the role of mediator and motherly figure easily. It didn’t feel intrusive or overbearing. She has definitely made the transition easier. My dad and I still have our moments, though. What else do you expect from the Grants? Stubbornness, it’s a family trait.
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"Dr. Grant, Dr. Sattler, we're ready to try again." I look up as one of the volunteers approaches us.
"I hate computers," my dad says.
"The feeling's mutual," is Ellie's reply. I shake my head at their attitude towards technology. We make our way over to the monitor in the tent. "How long does this usually take?" Ellie asks the computer's operator.
"It should bring an immediate return. You shoot the radar into the ground, and the bone bounces the image back. This new program's incredible. A few more years' development and we won't even have to dig anymore."
"Where's the fun in that?" I chuckle at my dad's response. He wouldn't know what to do if he couldn't dig up dinosaur bones. Actually, I wouldn’t know what to do if I couldn’t dig up fossils either. I should definitely think of a backup plan.
"It's a little distorted, but I don't think it's the computer."
"Postmortem contraction of the posterior neck ligaments," I point out on the screen. "Velociraptor?" I ask looking up. Dad gives me his ‘proud dad’ look before continuing.
"Yes, good shape too. It's five, six feet high; I'm guessing nine feet long. Look at the extraordinary…" The screen goes fuzzy for a second after he touches the screen.
"What'd you do?" The computer guy asks.
"He touched it. Dad's not machine compatible." I say this while laughing. This receives a laugh from everyone. Dad gives me a sideways glance in mock annoyance before turning back to the screen.
"Hell, they've got it in for me. And look at the half-moon shaped bones in the wrist. It's no wonder these guys learned how to fly." A few people chuckle at this. "No, seriously." There is more chuckling going on. I just roll my eyes.
"Well, maybe dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds than they do with reptiles. Look at the pubic bone, turned backward, just like a bird. Look at the vertebrae, full of air sacs and hollows, just like a bird. And even the word 'raptor' means 'bird of prey'."
"That doesn't look very scary. More like a six-foot turkey." I look over at the little boy who spoke. He belongs to one of the volunteers. He's here because it's his spring break and his parents thought it would be a good idea to have him hang out at the site.
"A turkey, huh?" My dad questions. I know he's going to do one of his demonstrations.
"Oh, no. Here we go." Ellie says while giving me a look.
"Okay, try to imagine yourself in the Cretaceous Period. You get your first look at this six-foot turkey as you enter a clearing. He moves like a bird, lightly bobbing his head. And you keep still because you think that maybe his visual acuity is based on movement like T-Rex, and he'll lose you if you don't move." The kid gives a sigh like he could care less about what is being said.
"But no, not Velociraptor. You stare at him, and he just stares right back. And that's when the attack comes. Not from the front, but from the side." My dad emphasizes this point by bring his two forefingers together quickly.
"From the other two raptors you didn't even know were there. Because Velociraptor's a pack hunter, you see. He uses coordinated attack patterns, and he is out in force today. And he slashes at you with this, a six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe." The boy's eyes go wide as dad brings out his claw fossil.
"He doesn't bother to bite your jugular like a lion, say. No, no. He slashes at you here or here." With each word he makes a slashing motion across the boy’s midsection.
"Oh, Alan." I look over at Ellie and she is shaking her head. I can feel the boy's pain. There have been many times my dad has done the same to me, trying to scare me. I finally had to tell him that stories like that don't easily scare a teenager anymore. He relented but gifted me with my own raptor claw. I keep that in box, not in my back pocket.
"Or maybe across the belly, spilling your intestines. The point is, you are alive when they start to eat you. So, you know, try to show a little respect."
"Okay." The boy looks completely mortified. He looks to me and I put a hand on his shoulder.
"My father, always trying to get a rise out of someone. Don't sweat it kid." I say before following dad and Ellie.
"Hey, Alan, if you wanted to scare the kid, you could have pulled a gun on him, you know." I laugh at Ellie's comment as I catch up to them.
"Yeah, I know. Kids. You want to have one of those?"
"I don't want that kid. But a breed of child, Dr. Grant, could be intriguing." Ellie slings an arm around my shoulders. “The one you have now isn’t so bad."
"What's so wrong with more kids?" I ask curiously. Dad gives me a look.
"Oh, Em, look. They're noisy, they're messy, they're expensive." Dad starts off with his usual ramble about kids.
"Cheap, cheap." Ellie says, winking at me in the process. She is usually on my side when dad and I go back and forth.
"They smell." I let out a snort.
"They do not smell," Ellie replies quickly.
"Some of them smell. Babies smell.”
"I know for a fact that I didn’t smell,” I throw back.
"Give me a break!" Ellie laments as she tosses up her hands in defeat. Before anyone else can comment, a helicopter comes up over the hill. "Cover the site!" Ellie cries out as we all sprint off towards the site.
"Cover up the dig!" Dad yells as he starts running toward the helicopter blowing up dust. "Tell them to shut down! Shut down!"
"Cover it all up! Pull it over!" Ellie yells as she grabs the tarp. I grab the other side and together we start covering the bones. Others quickly come to our aid. I look up to see dad running toward the trailer. I hop up and go after him.