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“He let the girl fall,” Zora said softly, nudging Henry’s shoulder with hers and nodding pointedly at Krebs, who was refilling his water in the clear brook. When the light fell through the trees like this, making their large leaves look close to iridescent, the jungle almost seemed peaceful. It was the sounds that followed with their every step that proved otherwise: a constant twittering, rustling, bellowing. Complacency could be deadly, and safety was a long way ahead. “He’s evasive, but I’m certain of it. If I didn’t have him down as a coward, I might even say that he’d done more than just letting it happen.”
“But why?”
“You tell me. You’ve known him longest.”
Be that as it may, Krebs had always been somewhat of an enigma to Henry. He’d been working with ParkerGenix for a couple of months now, and Krebs seemingly fit every stereotype of a Big Pharma corporate climber: always on his phone, dressed to a T, a slightly entitled air to every breezy demand. He was also, however, more hands-on than any other suit Henry had ever worked with. Where their impatience had led to barked orders to work faster, to work better, Krebs took the time to explain the ins and outs of the company line, asked questions, hovered in their labs and even around the museum like a fly you couldn’t quite swat away, hammering away on his laptop and looking like he hadn’t slept in the past six years. It helped that the man clearly knew what he was talking about. Sure, you wouldn’t see him in a lab coat, but he probably understood more of the development of cardiovascular drugs than Henry himself. That didn’t mean he was a nice man. Undoubtedly, Krebs was in it for the money, just like all of them. But unlike some of them, he also wanted to make sure that the drug would be good – if not from the goodness of his heart, then at least from a determination to do what he did well.
Still, Henry was surprised when Krebs announced he would be coming along on their mission as well. Especially in hindsight, as it seemed that he had been more aware of the exact dangers of the island than any of them. Before he had been hands-on, but not hands-on – and it was clear that this wasn’t his usual ballpark either. He was wearing those ridiculous clothes, that impractical watch, and seemed discomfited by everything about this jungle.
“He’s an asshole,” Henry said, “but I don’t think he’s that much of an asshole.”
“If you say so. But if it turns out he is, he’s got more to worry about than dinosaurs.”
“We need to get a move on,” Krebs said, his voice hoarse.
Henry was leaning against a large tree, sucking on a mint and wiping away the sweat from his face. He must look a nightmare – the humidity was terrible, and they’d been moving through water for the past couple of hours. He felt clammy and dirty. Each breath Henry took was smothered by the wet heat that they couldn’t quite escape, and he felt drenched to the bone. Krebs wasn’t faring much better – his white shirt had turned a washed brown colour and had become almost see-through, and even the most practical part of his outfit – his shoes – hadn’t survived the rainforest.
“What you need to do is sit down,” Kincaid said, his voice steady but stern. “If our information is correct, we’re about two hours away from our next target, but that isn’t any use of we keel over on the way there.”
“But–”
“Sit down, Krebs.”
Krebs looked ready to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. He turned away from the group, rolling up his sleeves and fiddling with his watch before retrieving his hipflask and starting to pace, checking out their immediate surroundings as if he were the black-ops agent he had hired.
Kincaid shook his head and shared a smile with Zora and Henry, who smiled back, uneasily. Something was off, and he wished he didn’t have a feeling that it might have everything to do with the girl Zora mentioned. Krebs was a twitchy man by nature, but there was an agitation, even a desperation in his movements that Henry had never seen before.
Exchanging a brief nod with Zora, he pushed himself off the tree and moved towards Krebs, placing a hand on his shoulder and stilling his movements. “You good?”
“I’m fine,” Krebs snapped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem… restless,” Henry said, and he gestured at Krebs’s watch. “I mean, we’re in a hurry, but we’re not in a hurry, right?”
Krebs touched his watch, then loosened his collar. “It’s not–” He tapped his watch, which Henry now saw wasn’t working. Waterlogged, probably. “You don’t understand.”
“I don’t. So explain it.”
“Right,” Krebs said, carding a hand through his hair. “As I told you, Mr Parker wants me – us – to beat the competition.”
“Yeah,” Henry said, “but it’s not like the competition is on the island with us.”
“Perhaps not, but they were on the verge of a breakthrough right before our departure.”
“What? But the dinosaurs–”
“I don’t know how they did it, and neither does my father, but what I do know is–”
“Hold on. Your father?”
Krebs sighed impatiently. “Yes. Mr Parker is my father. I thought you’d know about that.”
“It’s not like I subscribe to Forbes magazine, Krebs,” Henry said. “Or like you share a last name. What’s that about?”
Absentmindedly, Krebs started fidgeting with his watch again. “It’s my stepmother’s family name. My father adopted it when he married into the family business. Convenient, you see.”
“He adopted it, but not you?”
Krebs chuckled. “Some things you have to earn first.”
Henry didn’t laugh. “Okay, so the competition is on the move as well, but it’s not like they’re going to have what we have.”
“They might,” Krebs said. “Every second counts. My father–” He shook his head. “He asked me to take care of this. So I will.”
“All right,” Kincaid said. “Let’s get moving.”
“Finally,” Krebs said, as he stalked after the others, leaving Henry behind with a sinking feeling in his gut.
“I could really go for something stronger right now,” Krebs said, taking another sip from his flask and leaning forward, his hands on his knees.
“My friend just died,” Kincaid said, his tone murderous.
Krebs put his hands up in a placating gesture, and Henry could see they were shaking. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’m sorry.” He dragged the back of his arm over his lips, leaving behind more dirt than it removed.
“We should get out of here,” Zora said, and she started moving. “The faster we get off the island, the better.”
“Second that,” Krebs said, his eye on the suitcase as he followed her.
Kincaid shook his head. “Why can’t that guy get eaten?”
“He can’t pay you if he dies,” Henry said.
“Others can. Hell, I bet there’s someone out there who’d pay us for the favour.” Kincaid slapped his back, and stalked off into the foliage.
Henry couldn’t argue.
“She’s lying,” Krebs repeated, catching Henry’s eye as the lights turned on around them, the handgun held out in front of him as if it could stop whatever was making this grinding noise. Thing is, Krebs wasn’t a particularly good liar. As far as Zora and Kincaid were concerned, he had clearly shown his true colours and was now beyond their consideration. Henry could see this for what it was: a frantic last-ditch effort to save face. Krebs was alone now. He’d antagonised the family, and with it the team he’d put together.
Henry grimaced. “It doesn’t matter, right?” He gestured at the suitcase Krebs had fastened to his wrist. “You took care of it.”
Krebs looked at him, unblanketed fear in his eyes, and for a moment Henry almost regretted his words. Then the moment passed. Before Krebs could respond, there was a loud roar, a flapping of wings, and everyone was moving. Whatever Krebs had wanted to say, it was too late now. For all of them.
“Krebs, get out of there!” Henry shouted.
The others were moving quickly, the children sprinting towards the boat as that… thing… leaned over Krebs, who seemed to be frozen in his seat, claws now inches from his face.
Time seemed to stand still. Somewhere in the background Henry could hear Zora yelling at him, but he was nailed to the ground as he watched how the creature grabbed Krebs from the jeep, knocking the air out of him and slowly lifting him towards its gaping mouth. Krebs held out his arms in front him, shielding his body with the sample case, and– a sickening crunch, and a bloodcurdling scream.
Henry would like to say that it was a conscious decision, but his brain blanked and before he’d even been able to formulate a semblance of a plan, he was waving a lighted flare over his head, screaming his lungs out. “Hey! Over here!”
Zora turned around, a look of terror on her face, but Kincaid grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
“Henry!”
“Get to the boat– get the others to safety!”
Their eyes met briefly in the dark, but then the creature stepped forward, Krebs unmoving in its claws as it shifted towards Henry, who started running, flare held up as high into the air as possible. He didn’t dare to look back, but the ground shook and he swore he could feel its hot breath on his neck. He turned a corner, throwing the flare as far as he could and backing into a tree, uncaring of the sharp bark pressing into his back as he crouched down, dew dripping steadily into his collar. He pressed his hand against his mouth and nose, trying to still his breathing, and hoping, begging that the creature lacked the mental capacity to distinguish his own movements from the flare’s. Hoping, begging that it would drop Krebs in its pursuit. Henry closed his eyes against the sound of heavy footfalls on the partially paved roads, burying his head between his knees as he tried to make himself as small as possible in the shadows.
After a while, the sounds faded in the distance, and Henry was fairly certain that the immediate danger had passed. His heart was working overtime, but there was no second to lose. He had to get to Krebs, if he was even still alive, if he was even out there and not in the belly of that terribly deformed creature, and then they had to get back to the docks. He hoped that the boat was gone and that the others had escaped safely, but Zora wouldn’t just leave him there without some type of contingency plan; her contingency plans had contingency plans. If they had lived to tell the tale, they would come back for him.
Henry slowly retraced his steps towards the docks, keeping his torch turned off whenever he could. He’d run further than he had thought; the path here was muddy and unpaved, quite a contrast to the sleek roads that had popped up around the helipad. There was the occasional rustle in the bushes, and Henry froze every time, but nothing more than small lizards crawled out of them, and otherwise the night was dark and quiet.
It was hard to see. Away from the lights of the store, the night belonged to the animals and only the moon provided some comfort that he was still in the same world he had inhabited yesterday. It was hard to imagine. A couple of days ago he had been lamenting the loss of his job at the museum, hoping that his work with ParkerGenix would provide him with some stability and a ‘new normal’. If this was what that normal looked like, he wanted no part of it. It was hard to grasp the fact that people had died. If Krebs lived, it was nothing short of a miracle, but even then, this mission would have cost lives, and he would carry that on his conscience.
The searing heat of the day had calmed down, and Henry realised he was starting to shiver, the cold sweat making his skin crawl rather than simply drying. He paused, peering into the expansive darkness. His eyes hadn’t quite adjusted. Just as he started to lose hope that he would ever even be able to find his way back to where he started, he spotted a disturbance in the road; the gravel and sand had shifted, and was that–
Henry turned on the torch, and sure enough, a small trail of blood led him off the road and further into the trees, where Krebs was lying motionless on the forest ground. All signs suggested that he had dragged himself to cover on his stomach, but he hadn’t gotten very far. And no wonder: the suitcase with the samples was gone, and so, it seemed, was the arm it had been attached to. Placing two fingers on Krebs’s neck, Henry breathed a sigh of relief when he found a steady heartbeat, even if it was quicker than he would have liked. He wished he remembered more of his field training – not that they’d ever covered traumatic amputation in detail, but right now he wasn’t even sure whether it was a good idea to turn Krebs over or not. After a moment of deliberation, he decided he might as well, if only to give Krebs more room to breathe and to give himself the possibility to elevate the severed limb. He had to remind himself to breathe, feeling slightly faint at the look of the arm. Stem the bleeding. Make a tourniquet. No different than an animal, he kept telling himself. Not that he’d ever worked with one that was alive.
He worked fast, tearing any excess fabric away from the wound, using his own shirt to stem the bleeding and creating a make-shift tourniquet by fastening his own belt around it. Perhaps it was lucky that Krebs was passed out for this. It wasn’t a clean cut, and he couldn’t imagine how painful it must be. Other than the arm, most of his injuries seemed superficial. Maybe a few cracked ribs, but there was little he could do about that out here. He was tired to the bone. The adrenaline had dissipated, and he knew it was too dangerous to move at night. If his inferences about the village were correct, most of these animals probably hunted at night, under cover of darkness. He carefully dragged Krebs behind a fallen tree and sat down beside him in the soggy moss. Now he could at least pretend they enjoyed a semblance of safety. They would find the shore in the morning and hope that someone who didn’t want to eat them would spot their signal. Find another boat. There had to be a way. And if there wasn’t, someone would come for them. Zora would take care of that. For all her talk, she wouldn’t leave anyone behind. And if not, there was always Krebs’s ParkerGenix, which was apparently his father’s. That had to count for something. He closed his eyes, warily – even though it was not like he could see a thing in the dark either way. Nothing to be done until morning. With that lingering thought, Henry fell into an uneasy sleep.
Henry shook awake at the sound of a scream. For a moment he didn’t know where he was, and images of a cliffside flashed in front of his eyes. As the world blinked into existence, he was met by trees and damp ground, the sun barely having risen. He groaned and pushed himself up from his uncomfortable position, his joints complaining bitterly at his movements. He scanned the area for any signs of danger, but there were none. There was just Krebs, his body shaking slightly, an unhealthy sheen of sweat on his forehead. Every now and then, he moaned softly. As Henry touched his forehead to gauge his temperature, Krebs stilled with a sharp intake of breath, his entire body tensing up.
“Just me,” Henry said softly. “You’re burning up. That’s… inconvenient.” He also had no clue what that meant. Was it a normal reaction, the rise of body temperature? Did it mean infection? If only he’d paid more attention in class.
Krebs’s face contorted in– pain? A nightmare? Henry couldn’t be sure. He needed proper medical attention as fast as possible, but it was clear that Krebs wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, and Henry wasn’t sure if he was in the condition to be moved at all. He’d prefer to get his temperature down first, but to do so, he needed water, and he’d lost his pack hours ago. They’d have to move. Go back to the village, figure out if there was a way to send a distress signal from there somehow. And then he’d worry about Krebs’s temperature.
By the time they’d reached the facility, Henry was out of breath. He’d decided that the only option was to carry Krebs, and even though he wasn’t exactly unfit, lifting had never been his favourite part of going to the gym. Krebs had been far from an ideal patient too; he hadn’t regained consciousness yet, but every now and then he’d moved around in his arms as if trying to get away from him. Henry was more than understanding of Krebs’s predicament, but it had made his life considerably harder.
Still, they’d made it, and Henry had found a dry room at the back of the convenience store. It was sparse: a table that he’d used to barricade the door against any unwanted intruders, a little kitchenette with several cupboards, a small storage closet. He had scoured the place for anything edible. There was preciously little, but some of the long-lasting dry food packages seemed to have held throughout the years, providing some sustenance, even though he’d doubted anything would still taste good. There were water bottles too, even if they’d gone off, and he’d also found a threadbare blanket that he’d propped up under Krebs’s head. His best find had been the small first-aid kit, which he’d used to replace the blood-soaked shirt tied around Krebs’s arm with actual gauze. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, at least, so that was something, even if Krebs still looked like death warmed over.
Some ugly part of him argued that Krebs had deserved it and that Henry was a fool for staying behind. After all, Krebs had meant for that girl to get hurt. He had been stupid enough to separate from the group, to leave them all to their fates to get what he wanted. But then he remembered that fearful look in his eyes right before the mutated raptors attacked, the desperation as he told him about the company. If he’d had left him to that creature, he would never have forgiven himself, even if Krebs would never have returned the favour.
As he tried to bring down his temperature with a wet rag, pressing it against his forehead, his neck, his wrist, Krebs started shifting again. Henry carefully placed a warm hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Stay still, you idiot, or you might just undo all my hard work.”
Krebs’s response was unintelligible, but his movements didn’t calm. Instead, his twitching gained urgency, and he started to flail his arms around, holding them in front of his body as well as he could, jostling his injured arm– what was left of it.
“Hey, hey,” Henry said, keeping his voice low and soft, drawing quick conclusions about what Krebs’s fever-addled mind was seeing. “It’s okay. Well, as okay as it’s going to be for a while. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Henry brushed his thumb over the back of Krebs’s hand, trying to provide a more grounding touch, one that perhaps could be construed as non-threatening even in his current state of mind, but Krebs flinched away from him, and Henry resorted to repeating soothing platitudes in an effort to calm the man down, staying close in case he might seriously hurt himself. After a few minutes, Krebs’s movements seemed to slacken, and whatever he had seen, had passed.
“What am I going to do with you?” Henry said softly, the rag abandoned. He sighed. “If you don’t want my help, I’m going to look for something with a signal. Stay here.”
Nothing. No working phones – not that he had really expected that, after so many years – or communication system, no functioning distress signal, no running water – after some hesitation he’d gone outside to replace the stale-tasting bottled water with something fresher at the nearby spring. This place was deserted, and he supposed it was a miracle most of it had even been left standing. His most useful acquisitions had still been the convenience store bags of rice and packets of noodles, if he could find any way to cook them. He also found some ibuprofen, but the painkillers were years past their expiration date, and unlikely to work. The coolers weren’t functioning anymore, so icing the ribs wouldn’t be an option. Well, Krebs had made it this far. He’d have to hold on a little longer.
“So, do you want me to start with the good news or the bad news?” Henry said, closing the door behind him and shoving the table back against it. “Good, I’d choose the bad news too. Seems like there’s no way to communicate with the mainland, but–” A shiver ran down his spine as he saw one of the cans of beans, which had previously been sitting on the countertop, split open on the floor. Krebs was nowhere in sight. He pressed his lips together, trying to breathe through his nose, slowly, and then backed into one of the cupboards, his hand reaching into one of the drawers for a knife. He listened closely for any signs of movement, but the air was still. He sniffed. A tangent smell of blood, and… a whiff of booze? Holding out the knife in front of him, he carefully stepped forward, noticing the flask on the floor. Krebs’s flask, open, smelling faintly of– gin, whisky? He couldn’t tell.
A soft thump, a slight creak.
“Krebs?”
“Loomis?” Krebs’s voice was muffled, shaky.
Abandoning the knife, Henry opened the kitchen cabinet closest to him, and sure enough, there was Krebs, huddled as far back into the cupboard as possible, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Care to come out?” Henry said, trying to keep his tone light, an enormous pressure lifted from his chest.
“You’re here,” Krebs said, the disbelief in his voice almost tangible.
“Of course I’m here,” Henry said. “Who’d you think patched you up?”
Krebs glanced at his missing arm as if this was the first time he’d noticed it. “I heard sounds, so I hid. I thought that–”
“Just me. Nothing else in this room but us.”
Krebs didn’t move, simply electing to stare at Henry, as if he didn’t quite comprehend what he was saying.
“You should have some water. Actual water,” Henry said, remembering the empty flask. He stood up slowly, as not to startle Krebs, and grabbed one of the refilled water bottles. He opened it, holding it out to the man. “Last time I checked you had a fever, fluids should help.”
After a moment of deliberation, Krebs took the bottle, their hands touching briefly. He seemed to freeze at the touch, and Henry filed that away for further consideration. He sat down in front of the cupboard, settling in for what proved to be a long day.
“I found these as well.” Henry slid one of the packets of ibuprofen towards Krebs. “They’re out of date, but it might be worth a try. You must be in pain,” he said gently.
“Why are you here?” Krebs said, his voice hoarse.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but some swell guy convinced me it was a good idea to go to this island to gather blood samples, and–”
“You were fleeing.”
“The others are gone, I think. They should’ve made it to the boat.”
“But you–”
“Didn’t feel right to leave you behind.”
Krebs looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “I left you behind. All of you.”
“Yes, you did. I guess we know who the better man is, then,” Henry said, smiling at Krebs’s bewilderment.
“I don’t think that was ever in question,” Krebs said seriously.
Henry’s smile faltered. “Well, either way, it was the right thing to do.”
Krebs gulped down a couple of the painkillers, making a non-committal sound.
“So, bad news is that there’s no way to send a distress signal from here. The good news is that there is some food down here. I’m not a great cook, but we’ve got some rice and some cans of beans, which should last us for a little while. My suggestion would be to go down to the beach, maybe try to make a fire that we can cook on, and surely someone will spot us from there.”
“You have a death wish, don’t you?” Krebs said, the bottle shaking slightly in his hand.
“What? Why?”
“The beach. That’s where those– those creatures were. The, er–”
“The spinosaurs. We’ll be careful, I’ll check the parameter. I’m pretty invested in keeping us alive, actually.” Henry held out his hand. “I know you’re scared.”
“I’m not–”
“I’m scared too. But we’ve made it so far, we’ll make it further. Someone will come for us. We were alive when Zora left, and she has no reason to assume that I’m dead – she’d come for me.”
“You distracted it. With the flare,” Krebs said, his voice even.
“Yeah, well. It seemed to respond to light; it was the only thing I could think of.”
“You saved my life.”
Henry bowed his head. He didn’t know what to do with Krebs’s gratitude, as veiled as it was – it hadn’t even been a conscious decision. “I’d do it again.”
Krebs was silent at that. “What if no one comes?”
“That’s the spirit,” Henry said, grimly. “If Zora doesn’t come through – which she will – I suppose there’s always your dad?”
Krebs laughed at that – an exaggerated, hysterical sound that made Henry recoil. “What’s so funny?”
“My father won’t be coming to save us,” Krebs said, sardonically.
“He knows where we are, right?”
Krebs shook his head. “The mission was covert, which means the less he knew, the better. But even if he knows– don’t count on it. He can’t be implicated in this sort of thing.”
Henry frowned. “Isn’t he already kind of implicated by that fact that you are here at all?”
Krebs sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Which is why he won’t– not even if he knew. The company couldn’t handle it.”
Henry was silent for a moment. “Not even if it could save your life? He is your father.”
Involuntarily, Krebs lifted his injured arm, hissing in pain.
“Careful.”
With lethargic movements, Krebs crawled out of the cupboard, wheezing from the effort. He leaned against its door, picking up the flask.
“You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol,” Henry said. “Because of the arm.”
Krebs chuckled. “It hasn’t held whisky since the boat, and it’s empty either way. It’s just… a reminder.” He brushed his thumb over the engraving on the bottom of the flash and put it away in his pocket.
“We should get out of here.”
Krebs nodded. “Where are the samples?”
“Er… Unless you conveniently dropped them before, you know–” Henry gestured uselessly at the missing arm.
“It– that monster ate them?”
“I haven’t looked for them, but I think so?”
“No,” Krebs said, his voice shaking. “It can’t have. We have to–”
“Look, Krebs, I get that the samples are important. But I think what we must do right now is go to the beach, try to create a signal, and stay alive until we are rescued. The samples… they’re lost. And that sucks, because–”
“I can’t return without the samples.”
“I was going to say people died trying to get them, but–”
“I thought that even if this entire mission was a disaster, I’d at least get– because I have to– you don’t– you don’t understand, I–”
“Krebs, breathe,” Henry said, hovering in front of the man. Krebs had collapsed against the cupboard, gasping as if he were drowning. No touch, he’d learned that much. He couldn’t believe this was the thing Krebs chose to freak out over. “Krebs– Martin… try to count down with me, okay? Ten to one.”
Krebs nodded, taking a shuddering breath. There were tears in his eyes that he was desperately trying to blink away as they counted, and Henry wondered what a sad life someone like Martin Krebs must live – to care more about the samples, about the money, than his own and others’ well-being.
“We’ll look for them,” Henry said, once Krebs had calmed down. “If they’re still there, we’ll find them. And if not…”
“Then it’s over. I know,” Krebs said, taking the flask from his pocket and staring at it despondently.
There were so many questions Henry wanted to ask. The flask, the jeep, the girl… Still, more than solving the riddle that was his employer, he wanted to get out of this place. “Let’s get moving.”
Krebs smiled, half a grimace. “Lead the way, doctor.”
Not surprisingly, the didn’t find the samples at the compound – or in the forest. The trek towards the beach was slow and uneasy. Krebs could barely stay upright, frequently stumbling over loose rocks and branches, but absolutely refusing Henry’s offer to lean on him or to take a break. Part of Henry wanted to tease the man with the fact that when he’d carried him to the compound he had done so bridal style, but Krebs had shown himself a prideful man – his dignity surely could only take so many hits.
When they reached the beach, Krebs fell more than sat down, breathing heavily.
“Have some water,” Henry said, handing him the bottle.
“We should– We should check the area first,” Krebs said, starting to push himself up again. “For those things.”
“I’ve got it,” Henry said, settling one hand on Krebs’s shoulder. The man’s breath hitched, but he didn’t protest. Krebs was pale, his eyes glassy – clearly the walk hadn’t done him any favours.
Henry stepped closer to the water and scanned the horizon. Nothing. No mosasaur or other creatures, but no boats either. Krebs had deposited himself in a convenient location; a rock they could hide behind should worst come to worst, and that for now provided them with shade. If they could get a fire going, a plane or a helicopter might be able to spot them.
He started gathering some of the drier leaves and branches from the edge of the jungle, keeping half an eye on Krebs, who was keeping his eyes trained on the sea, flask in a death grip. Despite his little breakdown earlier, the man seemed to be coping suspiciously well with his– with the change in circumstances. He wondered if Krebs really had such a cool facade, or if it just hadn’t hit him yet.
Once he’d gathered enough, he spread out the spoils of his search in front of Krebs. “I’ll let them dry in the sun for a bit before lighting the fire.”
“Won’t a fire attract– you know–”
“Let’s hope not,” Henry said, as he flopped down into the sand right next to Krebs, who startled slightly at his sudden movement.
“Thank you,” Krebs said, his eyes trained on the branches in front of him.
“For what?”
“For– everything, I suppose. Not leaving me behind, despite– you know. Not many people would’ve done the same.”
“Why did you do it?”
“The samples were always my priority. I know it was selfish, but–”
“Not the jeep. The girl.”
Krebs fiddled with the lid of the flask, grimacing. “Because I’m an asshole.”
“You’re not,” Henry said, trying to catch Krebs’s eyes. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are. Wanting to ignore their distress signal was kind of a dick move to begin with, but even if I didn’t agree with you, I know you did have your reasons. So there must have been a reason for this.”
“Does it matter? It’s inexcusable.”
“Maybe. But I’m just trying to understand.”
“She was trying to call for help. I tried to stop her.” He was silent for a bit, before adding: “We had a deal, Kincaid and I. A covert operation. No outsiders involved when it could be avoided. There was a protocol. Someone had died already, and if the signal had reached a coast guard, they would’ve– ParkerGenix would have been implicated, and it can’t be.”
“Because your father can’t be implicated.”
“Hmm.”
“Did you push her?”
“No,” Krebs said. “We– there was a struggle. She pushed me, but then the boat rocked, and she fell, and–”
“And you let her.”
“I did.”
“So you would have let her die– you would have let a child die, just because it was more convenient for your company.”
“It wasn’t– I never meant for her to die. Not really. I just– the thought crossed my mind for a moment. That this way at least I didn’t have to explain to my father why his billion-dollar mission had fallen apart because I couldn’t stop a teenager from throwing a wrench in the works.”
“And what– I’m supposed to believe she was gone by the time you came to your senses?”
“It was so fast. Seconds. There was enough time, but I wasn’t–” He sighed.
“You weren’t what? Brave enough?”
Krebs chuckled, immediately wincing. “That too, I suppose. I know it sounds silly, but the ocean– it’s not a place people are supposed to go. I’ve always been–” He shook his head, knuckles turning white against the flask.
Henry contemplated his words carefully. “You could’ve said.”
“And be mocked for the rest of the trip? No thanks.”
“I wouldn’t have–”
“Others would. And I couldn’t let this– this irrational fear get in the way of the mission.”
“Wouldn’t call it irrational after the adventure we’ve had,” Henry quipped. “You hid it well.”
“I wasn’t sober.”
“You– what?”
Krebs turned over the flask in his hand. “A gift from my father, after our first boating trip. For the nerves. To avoid… embarrassment.”
There was a story there; perhaps the true reason a man like Krebs had risked his life on this suicide mission. “You’d been drinking.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I know that only makes it worse. I should’ve–”
Henry settled his hand on Krebs’s arm, and he immediately fell silent. The skin was warm to the touch – warmer than it should have been. Henry held his hand there. “There’s no shame in being afraid.”
Krebs shook his head in derision, but didn’t move away.
“Do you regret it?”
“Or course I regret it,” Krebs said, affronted.
“Okay.”
Krebs looked up at him. “Okay?”
Henry smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. “Yeah. I mean, I’d say you need to come up with one hell of an apology, but–”
“But I doubled down on it. The gun, the jeep.”
“And I forgive you. For what’s mine to forgive.”
“You can’t,” Krebs said, his voice wavering.
“I think you’ll find that I can.”
“It can’t be–” Krebs shuffled uncomfortably under Henry’s touch, but didn’t move away. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is to me.”
Krebs blinked, his eyes glassy with tears or fever – maybe both. Henry didn’t comment either way.
“You might as well accept it. I’m pretty tenacious, you’ll find.” Henry kept the grip on Krebs’s arm loose, rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb, making the hairs stand up with shivers.
“Okay,” Krebs said softly, after a moment of silence.
“And once we get out of here, you get to apologise to the others. Because we are going to get out of here, do you hear me?”
“I do,” Krebs said, dropping the flask in the sand, his arm twitching, but not moving away. “I do.”
In the glow of the firelight, Krebs almost looked at peace. He had slumped against Henry in his sleep, their shoulders touching, his neck in an uncomfortable crick. The guttering that came out of his slightly opened mouth every time he took a breath and the spatters of blood on his shirt betrayed their circumstances. Night had fallen, and Henry had easily won their brief argument about who would take first watch after Krebs couldn’t keep in their dinner of undercooked rice and chickpeas. It worried him – the fever, the wheezing. Krebs hadn’t complained of the pain, but Henry had seen him down another three painkillers when he thought Henry wasn’t looking. Pride, Henry’s first thought had been. But then he had remembered their conversation. To avoid… embarrassment. The flask, the flinching, the nervous desperation… All pieces of a puzzle, and Henry didn’t like the picture they were painting.
Help couldn’t come soon enough. He startled every time there was movement from the bushes, and froze when he spotted a wave slightly higher than the last one in the sea in front of them. The twittering was constant, the wind blew the sand in his eyes, and every now and then there was a bellowing sound from the jungle behind them. He hardly dared to look – they were well-hidden, and moving too much would only wake up Krebs, who needed every minute of sleep he could get.
Henry was just starting to doze off himself when Krebs elbowed him in the stomach. “I wasn’t a–”
“Look!”
Immediately on alert, Henry sat up straight and scanned the area around them for the threat – carnivore, large or small, perhaps the spinosaurs were back, or–
“Use the flares,” Krebs said, his voice urgent.
“It’s a boat,” Henry said, an enormous weight lifted from his shoulders. He had a lot of faith in the world and in his friends, but still, he had worried – whether they would get there safely, whether they would make it in time, whether they would even be able to find them. He smiled at Krebs, who looked at him like he was an idiot, and Henry started fumbling for the flare, firing it into the air and hoping that the people on the boat would spot it before something in the forest did.
He started gathering the meagre supplies that he’d put together at the facilities, handing Krebs the lighted flare. He’d stood up as well, albeit on unsteady legs, and waved the flare around slowly, a worried look on his face. “Do you think–”
“It’ll be fine,” Henry said, taking back the flare as the boat got close enough that he could make out Zora’s features. He broke out into a large grin, and offered Krebs his right hand. “We’re going to be just fine.”
Almost wistfully, Krebs looked back towards the island, before drawing a deep breath and taking Henry’s hand, his own shaking. Behind them, the empty flask sat buried in the sand.
“It’s okay,” Henry said, squeezing Krebs’s hand lightly, his head swirling with what he didn’t say: it’s okay to be afraid, you’re not alone.
Krebs smiled, squeezing back. “Okay.”
Together, they stepped into the ocean.