Romancing the Raptor

"It's a syndicate of sasquatch and an orgy of chupacabras—orgy because they only gather in groups during mating season."

"Noted for future reference," Tom said, the corners of his lips curling into a grin.

Chastity grinned back.

"We need you, Chas," the honesty was clear in Tom's voice. "You'll be safe. What can I do to make it happen?"

"A one year supply of the inhibitor."

"Done," Tom said. "What else?"

"How's the budget?" Chastity asked.

"We've come up with three dozen million dollar patents since you came in the building."

Chastity grinned. "The supply and a hundred thousand and I'm in."

Tom pushed the down button on the elevator and said, "Done."

***

"Summers on board?" McMurtey asked as he flipped another page in a file folder marked with MS-13 in bold lettering on the front.

"She's leery, but agreed," Tom said. "She's getting suited up. We'll be with the second team and should be ready to depart in the hour."

"Sir, do you think we should have told her the full reason we needed her."

"I told her she was going to be bait. That's an accurate explanation." McMurtey looked up from the file. "If her extracurricular activities have shown anything, it's that she's got a thirst for revenge. She has trouble controlling the bitterness of what happened to her." McMurtey opened the file to a photograph of a thin-faced man with black-rimmed glasses and slid it across the desk to Tom. "What do you think she'd do to Prisoner MS-13 if she knew what he was guilty of?"

***

Chastity stood on the third floor of the Chamfield Penitentiary, awestruck and alarmed by what was in front of her. The event horizon of the misplaced wormhole swallowed most of the room, stretching out far beyond the walls, ceiling, and floor. It was enormous, and she wondered how something that size didn't punch out through the outer walls. It was like a mirrored mercury sphere with a scrim of kaleidoscope colors that couldn't possible exist anywhere else in the world. They wove up through the surface then back down again, like extradimensional whales breaking the surface of the ocean only to sink back into the hidden depths again.

"The reflections," Chastity nodded at the out-of-focus image of herself that swam on the surface beneath the haze of alien colors, "they're wrong. Watch."

Chastity arched her arm in an exaggerated wave then placed her hand on the curve of her hip. A second later the smoky reflection echoed the motion, smearing with some unseen turn of the sphere.

"How is that possible?" Chastity asked.

"Fifth dimensional physics," Tom said, lightheartedly. "It was on page 43 of the second flip chart."

"It's huge," Chastity said, contemplating the thin barrier that separated them from another time. "Based on the curvature, it must take up at least a fourth of the interior space of the building."

"Good eye. The AIs calculated it as 26.98%."

"Wait," Chastity turned to Tom, "a quarter of the building was swallowed and only twenty-three prisoners were lost? That doesn't seem likely."

Tom didn't turn from the event horizon. "Most of the prison population had been transferred about six months ago when this place was designated as a super-max facility for special populations."

"Okay, interest piqued. What kind of special populations?"

"Like murdery serial killer special populations?" Chastity asked. "If that's the case, I want to renegotiate my fee."

"I'll push for double if someone tries to eat your face," Tom said.

"They must be more than the run-of-the-mill bad guys since we're chasing them millions of pairs in the past."

"We should get it over with. The rest of the team should have established a perimeter by now," Tom said.

Excitement rose and boomed in Chastity's chest, pushing out any sense of trepidation. It had been a long time since she'd been able to go on an expedition. Okay, so it wasn't the typical research mission—she was going to be sweaty sex bait for almost two dozen prisoners guilty of cripes knows what, but there was a sense of freedom that had been yanked away from her nearly a year ago. And dinosaurs? A little pedestrian when compared to a wendigo or lizard men, but still exciting.

"Remember to tuck and roll when you break through."

Chastity walked about ten feet then turned to face the event horizon. "See you there, Tom," she said with a heartfelt grin. She broke into a run and sailed through the edge of reality to another world.

***

Chastity screamed more out of shock than pain. Actually, she didn't think she would be able to feel pain here. Everything was warm and melty and sparkly.

It did bother her a bit though that her body was twisting at impossible angles, through more dimensions than her brain told her should be possible. She wasn't exactly human shaped here. Her heart folded through the spleen and marrow turned to spaghetti that wormed through skin—or where skin should have been. The more she tried not to see, the more she did, it was like her perception was inflating to fill the extra dimensions to compensate. She was aware of every part of her body now that it was stripped from the restrictions of living in three dimensions. Cells slid through cells. DNA helixes unfurled and grew infinitely large. The sensation as a whole was pleasurable—warm and moist, a trickle of warm honey over each cell in her body.

Then Chastity's body and perceptions crashed back to the prison of three narrow planes of existence.

Then there was a fall.

Then there was a thump.

Lumpy bursts of sensation filtered into a brain trying to reacquaint itself with the limitations it was born into. Wet. Sticky. Coarse. Mud oozing into the corner of her lips. Humidity. Muggy air pressing hard into her lungs and against her skin.

Chastity pushed herself up, overpowering the sucking grip of the sludge she had landed in. until her face and torso peeled away from the swampy muck.

She spat half a dozen times, clearing little clods of filth with the first few, but not the taste—sour and rotten earth with more than a hint of decomposing vegetation and animal dung. She would need at least ten new toothbrushes and a gallon of toothpaste when she got home.

Chastity worked herself to her knees then up to an unsteady stand in the soggy mud, glad that she had opted for the practicality of hiking boots over the stilettos that were part of her usual uniform. She looked down, inspecting her body and making a mental checklist of everything she could see. Boobs—check. Abs—check. Arms, hands, legs—check. She reached behind and patted. Butt—check. She couldn't see any sign of her heart or pancreas sticking out, so she assumed the internals were okay.

She shielded her eyes from the sun hovering close to the horizon. It had been nighttime on the other side of the wormhole and without the normal landmarks of the city to orient herself, she didn't know if it was morning or evening.

She was in a small clearing comprised mostly of shallow marsh, mud, and swarms flying bugs that looked like they might someday breed themselves into dragonflies. Surrounding the swampy area was a dense, almost circular tree line. The sky was lukewarm with light and the trailing indigo shadows added a layer of unease to the motionless splay of branches and leaves.

But it was the things that she didn't see that worried her more.

There was no Tom. There was no base camp. There were no soldiers. And worst of all, there was no prison complete with a sparkly event horizon to jump in case of emergency.

Her pulse sped flood of adrenaline filled her veins. Wisps of cherry and butterscotch started to dance around her.

She was alone in a swamp, surrounded by tangles of trees and undergrowth that could hide anything beneath their leaves. She could walk into a maw of jagged teeth before she even realized it.

Chance the tree line or stay here and be an open target for anything.

The chomp at her heel made the decision for her. Something slithering sucking thing in the muck had latched onto her of her boot.

Something with teeth sharp enough to pierce the reinforced leather of her boot and scrape against the skin over her Achilles tendon.

In an uncoordinated, high-stepping scramble that might have been comical in other circumstances, Chastity jaunted out of the bog and to the more solid earth near the tree line. The slithery thing, pulled out of its muddy home, was still attached to the boot, lashing back and forth. It was as long and thick as Chastity's arm and had maggoty skin the color of rotting flesh.

Chastity stomped her free foot down on the tube of a monster with her free foot. There wasn't much give—the thing must have been a coil of pure muscle under the putrid layer of slime and skin. With the thing under heel, Chastity kicked away with the foot it was trying to eat into. It came free with a slurp.

Its mouth was as horrifying as the rest of it. Row after row of lamprey-like teeth gnashed at the air from a mouth that vomited itself out and drew back in.

Chastity pulled a handgun out of the holster on her hip and fired three rounds. The creature let out a hissing gurgle, evacuated a copious amount of slime and innards, then stopped moving.

After it was dead, Chastity felt a twinge of concern. She was millions of years in the past. Every plant and animal she knew was descended from some creature at this point in time. She might have just wiped kittens and puppies out of the world.

But one last hiss and squirm from the thing on the ground did away with that concern. Anything that came from this—the world would have to be better off without it.

***

It was definitely dusk. The sky had darkened to a hazy lavender. Strange stars were starting to peek through the twilight and it wouldn't be long before complete darkness swallowed everything under the canopy of trees.

Chastity had scouted out a tree with a hollow between the buttresses of its ancient roots. It wouldn't be comfy, but it was large enough for her to sleep in. She'd gathered a collection of palm fronds, leaves, and giant ferns to use for bedding and—more importantly—camouflage.

When the sun came up, she'd start the search for the base camp. Stumbling through the early Cretaceous night was an idea that would likely get her killed. Settling in and being as inconspicuous as possible until sunrise would give her the best chance at survival.

Chastity curled into the hollow and covered herself in a layer of leaves. She took a deep breath in. In a way, it was relaxing and reminded her of home. Even though she wasn't that far away, the smell of the air here was different than in the swamp. It smelled alive. She'd grown up in a backwater corner of the Appalachians that was too troublesome for corporations to try to buy out.

The stink of smog choked her for a week when she'd first moved to New San Francisco. Here she had the smell of living earth, trees and grass and dirt, the sounds of birds singing and crickets chirping. Each one sparked a memory of the farm and the life she used to have. She hadn't realized how much she had missed it.

With her eyes closed, the nostalgia of it took over.

The soft trilling sounds outside of but so close to her hidden nook became the song of frogs playing in the spring rains. The deep chirping became birds fighting for seeds on the back porch. Then the smell of grass and dirt gave way to the smell of meat, like the first deer she had hunted and skinned when she was young.

It was the smell that brought her out of her reverie. It was the coppery smell of fresh meat carried on warm breath.

It had the reek of predators after a fresh kill.

And whatever it was, it was big. She could hear that in the snap of branches and the rustle of leaves. It was at least as big as she was... probably larger.

Chastity held her breath, afraid that even the rolling tide of air that came with each inhale and exhale would broadcast her presence.

But she was too late. The thing had started circling the tree. Every few seconds a warble slid through the air. It was a bulky sound, birdlike but somehow wrong. The timbre of it made Chastity think of a canary on steroids.

It wasn't long before she could hear the answering calls of other canaries in the distance.

Shit, it's a pack, she thought. One canary, she might stand half a chance. More of them, no chance at all.

There was another crack of splintering wood. Closer this time, just feet away.

There was no more time. It knew she was here. It must have caught her scent.

Dammit. Millions of years before man shows up on the face of the planet and this damned smell is still getting me in trouble.

Chastity grabbed her handgun, wishing she had opted for something larger and swung toward the last place she remembered the sound and fired. She rolled in the opposite direction, clearing the hollow and twisted roots. As she did, she heard something even crueler than the monster canary tweets.

A rush of growls and screeches came from every direction. Most were scared, some were angry.

A screaming thing jumped and landed on the arch of root that Chastity had been hiding under. It was colossal and scary and amazing at the same time. It was some species of raptor. Its skin was a mix of scales and downy feathers that trailed in a slim plume down from the crown of its head along its spine. The scary quota increased with it opened a bloody red maw lined with razor-sharp teeth and howled at her.

It didn't lunge at her though. It looked down at her from its perch, giving her what might have been an appraising look.

This is the one that she shot. She could see the proof of it in the heavy trickle of blood leaking down from its neck. Chastity aimed again and fired three more shots.

She didn't know how many bullets she had left. Not many. Was there a spare clip? She couldn't be sure right now.

Two of the bullets hit in the breast and abdomen.

They didn't immediately stop the dinosaur. It gave a pained screech then a lurching dive from the branch. Twin claws soared at her, but they fell short.

The internal bleeding was slowly taking its toll.

But it wasn't enough for a quick kill.

And it was intent on killing her before she had the chance to finish it.

The raptor flexed a hind leg to raise a massive cutting claw, this time it was close enough to eviscerate Chastity.

Chastity couldn't say that her entire life flashed before her eyes. She only got to her kindergarten kiss with Clyde Hunley before the ratatatatat of gunfire interrupted. She opened her eyes and saw the raptor on the ground taking its last breaths.

A screamed voice cut through the gunfire. "Get up, girlie. There's a pack of these things determined to make us supper."

The voice was commanding, but warm with concern. Before she could make the first twitch needed to stand, two men in combat fatigues had her by her arms, pulling her up and steadying her until she got her bearing.

"Sergeant Thompson, ma'am. Pleased to make your acquaintance," the man in charge said as he stood in front of her. "Don't speak. Just take some steady breaths. You've just had some excitement and the air's richer in oxygen than what you're used to. Not to be rude, but we ain't got time for you to hyperventilate and get dizzy or pass out."

Chastity understood completely. She'd faced down her first dinosaur and nearly gotten to see how the turkey felt on the night before Thanksgiving.

"We've got to move now," Sergeant Thompson said as he looked at a display on his communication cuff. "We've got hostiles closing in. Sensors show four more in the immediate area... all heading our way."

"Wait," Chastity said. "Tom Frye—is he at the base? He was supposed to come through after me, but I came out in the wrong place somehow."

"He's not at base, ma'am. Right now we can't be sure that he made it though at all."

"What do you mean?"

"The wormhole is destabilizing... Weakening space around us. Tiny rifts are opening and closing for about a kilometer around the event horizon. He may have come through one of them—like you did. There may be openings underground, we don't know. He may not have made it through at all."

"Then we need to keep searching. We need to find him!"

"No can do, we've got to get back to base. We've got between thirty and forty-eight hours before it collapses. Home ain't much, but at least we aren't on the menu there."

"We have drones patrolling the sky," one of the other men added. The nametag on his right jacket pocket read Sanchez. "Plus ground bots patrolling the grounds. They're searching for the escapees. If Frye is here, they'll locate him."

"Have you found the prisoners?"

Sanchez paused before answering, "Some of them. Pieces of others."

***

The camp was smaller and less protected than Chastity had expected. An electrified fence topped with coiled razor wire formed a perimeter around four compact aluminum pre-fabs. Two security robots outfitted with what could have been Gatling guns patrolled the exterior perimeter.

"Why isn't the base closer to the prison," Chastity asked as the gate doors slid closed after them.

"Couple of reasons," Thompson said. "Way it was explained to me is that this end of the wormhole isn't all that stable—machinery and people pop out at random places, like the space all around it is weak. That's what happened to you. Lucky you didn't come out half inside the ground or in a tree. Couldn't chance it with my men, so we moved."

It sounded logical to Chastity. From what she twisted inside the wormhole, she felt lucky that she came out Chastity-shaped at all.

"What's the second reason?"

"Damned dinosaurs everywhere. There were nests of 'em or something. It wasn't worth the risk to my men."

Chastity got off of the ATV and took a closer look at the building on the immediate left of the gate. It was clearly a holding cell. Pairs of barred windows lined each of the four corrugated metal walls.

A quick count showed sixteen prisoners. With twenty-three total, that meant there were seven left to be captured.

Chastity corrected that number when she saw the two body bags laid out behind the cell.

"Most of those were the easy ones," Sergeant Thompson said, as he edged beside her. "They came running with a white flag made out of someone's underwear when we got here. Guess some got a first-hand glimpse at what happened to the two out back and decided we were the better option."

Chastity took an automatic step away.

"Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to cross into personal space. I can understand that you got to be careful around the men because of your... condition. Be assured, you're safe with my team. Part of the preparation was having an injection up the nose—felt like snorting a lit match. Olfactory nerve block, they said, so pheromones—not a problem. The plus side is, my men ain't had a proper bath in the better part of two days and I can't tell."

Chastity smiled. She hadn't wanted to mention anything, but the soldiers she had met so far—the sergeant included—had passed the benchmark for ripe and were quickly moving towards rank. It wouldn't take long in a place like this... humidity smacked you in the face, temperatures that seemed to hover just above comfortable day and night.

She looked over at the man and a felt a little ashamed. He hadn't been anything but kind to her. He hadn't touched. He hadn't groped. As far as she could tell, he hadn't even tried to sneak a peek at her cleavage.

She stepped back to the spot beside him and, for the first time since they had met, looked at him with something other than the general misandry that had become a part of her life the past year. He was taller than her, just shy of six feet. His sandy hair was a similar buzz cut to McMurtey's, but he wore it better. It balanced the curve of his forehead and suited the flat-bridged nose that looked as if it had been broken and reset without the involvement of a physician. The thin pale line of a scar traced the curve of the cheekbone, then down through his mustache and ending at the cleft of the chin.