Volume 7: Copal

Issue 10: Imprint

Florian Reyes Honeywell

By Roach

Hannah gripped the branch, pulling herself up the redwood tree. The branch dipped slightly underneath her weight before—with another heave—she climbed the next one. As I watched her ascent, a tiny whirlwind ran through the swarm—like a swirl of anxiety. I didn’t really consider myself to be scared of heights, but it seemed like an awfully long way down…

Daniel cupped his hands around his mouth. “Do you see anything?” he shouted up to her.

There was a pause. The rest of us stood clustered together by the foot of the tree. Judging by the yawns and tired faces surrounding me, no one had gotten a good night’s rest. But, even if my classmates had wanted to sleep in, I didn’t think the cave offered enough comfort to lie in for long. Now, the sun hovered just above the horizon—casting the forests in a golden glow. In our silence, we could hear the prehistoric forest awaken below us. Chirps, screeches, deep hooting bellows, and more sounds I couldn’t even identify echoed through the trees around us. Hell Creek was awake and—for the first time in millions of years—had no master…

When Hannah had woken up this morning, she had strained her eyes against the trickles of sunlight—head still resting on my shoulder. Then, with a sudden jerk, she sat up. She had wrinkled her nose as she looked around with a puzzled expression. Her gaze then settled on me, before she quickly looked away again. She muttered something about the Expedition Center and got up.

A few minutes later, we had all gathered around the ashes of last night’s campfire. After a quick deliberation, Hannah decided to climb a tree to survey the area. While I had sent some of my scouts out while the others slept, I expected it would take them some hours to report back to me. In the meantime, that left us with a nonexistent food supply and no idea where we were.

“I… I see it!” Hannah shouted down.

“Really?” Lucy’s pale face lit up. “How far?”

“Are you sure?” Amber interjected—with less optimism in her tone.

“Yes,” Hannah snapped back. “I’m positive.” She started her descent down as she continued to speak, “It’s on one of the other hills—we’re a lot closer than I thought. We should be able to make it within the hour.” Once she reached the lowest branch, she let herself hang down from it. Then—releasing it—she landed softly on her feet.

“An hour?” I said. “But… Didn’t we spend hours getting here?”

“Yes, but we’ll be going downhill this time,” Hannah replied.

I still wasn’t entirely convinced, but didn’t have much time to think about it before Amber interjected. “Let me see,” Amber said, approaching the tree. Turning to Daniel, she added, “Boost me.”

While Daniel did as she said, Hannah took a step back and watched. “Try not to break anything,” she said, her voice flat. “I already know where we need to go.”

Amber—upon hoisting herself up the closest branch—glared at Hannah through narrowed eyes.

“Maybe we should start…” I began, but Amber cut me off.

“Oh, Florry-worry,” she scoffed. “I got this. Don’t you worry.” And, before I could finish my protest, she started her climb to the treetop.

I glanced at Camilo, who stood next to me. He shook his head in slight exasperation, before turning back to the cave. “Let’s get our stuff,” he mumbled. If he were excited about Hannah’s discovery, he didn’t show it—if anything, he just looked tired. Heavy bags rimmed his eyes while the night appeared to have transformed his messy hair into a bird’s nest.

Daniel and Lucy nodded in agreement. Only Jay didn’t respond, but still followed the others back to the cave.

I lingered by the tree with Hannah, waiting for Amber’s return.

“So…” Hannah started. “Florry-worry, huh?”

“I don’t know either,” I groaned.

“It’s not even…”

“...a proper rhyme?” I finished. “I’m aware.”

She stifled a chuckle. “Alright.”

Just then, Amber dropped down next to us. “It’s called a slant rhyme,” she muttered.

“See anything up there?” Hannah crossed her arms over her chest.

“I saw a building,” Amber said. “Not sure it’s the Expedition Center, but it’s worth checking out.”

“But it is,” Hannah replied. Just then, she reached for her pocket—taking out a small pair of binoculars. “I made sure.”

Amber narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why… Why did you bring binoculars?”

“There were supposed to be ivory-billed woodpeckers,” Hannah quickly said with a shrug. “Wanted to make sure I saw it.”

“Did you?” I asked. Internally, I was still trying to decide whether or not I had under-prepared or if she was just over-prepared.

She shook her head. “No, Archean took us past it…” She gestured to the prehistoric wilderness around us. “So we could get eaten by dinosaurs instead. Much more interesting,” she grumbled, picking her spear from last night off the ground and inspecting its point.

An abrupt silence followed. I met Amber’s gaze, wondering whether or not she also picked up on Hannah’s pointedness toward Archean. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was about it which bothered me. Maybe it was knowing that he was still possibly out there fighting against those strange intruders…

Or, maybe it was that I never really knew where I had her. When we spoke last night, she seemed so open and warm. But now, when Amber was here, she had a certain edge to her. Then again, Amber had that effect on people…

Amber just shook her head. “Let’s get going,” she finally said, heading back to the cave.

After rejoining the others, I picked up my crossbody bag. Various candy and granola bar wrappings littered the cave floor. I felt an instinct to clean it all up, as if this was just a regular camping trip—but one last glance at the locked door reminded me otherwise. Its metallic surface had a pale shine from the faint trickle of daylight. I studied it for a moment, as if hoping that it would open after all.

It didn’t budge.

Once everyone had collected their things, we started our trek back into the surrounding woods. Hannah handed out one of her handmade spears to each of us and we set off.

Getting down the hill was only slightly easier than climbing up it. While the rising sun did wonders to illuminate our path, Hannah was insistent we head directly to the Expedition Center—which meant we couldn’t go the way we came. Instead, we carved a new path down the hill, through thick patches of cycads and over hulking boulders. But, as the redwoods and monkey puzzles gave way to magnolias and beeches, the steep and rugged terrain became the least of our worries. The omnipresent ferns which blanketed the ground had turned downright slippery in the morning dew, and more than once I found myself losing my footing and sliding down a few feet of bumpy hillside.

Then, about halfway down the hill, we all stopped when—in the sky to our right—we saw a sudden bright flash of light, followed by a muffled boom. “What the fuck was that?” Jay asked.

No one had any answers.

One by one we continued our march down the slope. Whatever had happened, it didn’t seem to have changed anything. The swarm hadn’t reacted to it—which I hoped meant that whatever had agitated them yesterday wasn’t coming back.

But what, exactly, was happening outside the snow globe?

By the time we reached the bottom of the hill—around an hour after we left—bruises and scratches had emerged on the arms and ankles of my classmates.

Somehow, Hannah still seemed to know where we needed to go. “This way,” she pointed. “It’s due straight west.” How she was able to keep track of the cardinal directions, I wasn’t entirely sure.

Maybe the descent had drained what little energy we had gained from the night’s rest, but no one protested. We followed Hannah as she led us, presumably, toward the Expedition Center.

We tried our best to ignore the flapping of the large, leathery pterosaurs as they circled in the air above us. As we plodded forward—my classmates exchanging nervous glances—I was glad that we didn’t have any other dinosaurs accompanying us. Although, through the trees, I could see a small herd of dinosaurs which looked like miniature Triceratops. Leptoceratops, I remembered Archean calling them. They chomped on the substantial undergrowth. They seemed—if not apathetic about our presence—content with the distance we were keeping from them.

Not all the denizens of the forest were content to ignore us, however. A few of the pterosaurs—apparently overwhelmed with curiosity—flew down under the canopy to get a better look at us. They ranged in sizes; one being barely a foot tall and another almost as tall as me as it perched in the trees above us. They seemed to be sizing us up as we walked below them. But, when Hannah waggled her spear in the direction of the biggest one, it clapped its beak loudly at her and then—with a screech—flew off.

The Leptoceratops were an obstacle to be avoided, the pterosaurs an annoyance… However, as we ventured across the wide forest valley toward wherever Hannah assured us the Expedition Center was, I ran into something far more belligerent… Yet familiar.

It was a short dinosaur—no taller than four or five feet—covered in muddy brown scales. Its stocky body was held aloft by two legs, and the herd grazed constantly on the ferns below them. However, its most distinctive feature was what made it familiar. Its skull was a solid, armored dome, surrounded with a crown of horns. Pachy…something-a-saurus was the name that came to mind as I looked at them, half-remembered from dinosaur books that I read as a kid.

Even with everything that had happened, I felt a strange glimmer of awe seeing these creatures. Creatures that, for a very long time, had been consigned to bones and the artwork in my kid books. However, this awe rapidly faded as one of the dinosaurs noticed us, and bellowed a loud warning in our direction. Soon, the others had formed a line beside it, shaking their heads and bellowing.

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“I think they’re just plant eaters,” Daniel said as we froze in place.

“Plant eaters can still kill you. Remember those Triceratops?” Camilo muttered.

“We’ll go around,” Hannah said. “If we don’t go too far, we shouldn’t get lost.”

Carefully, and without turning our backs to the bellowing dinosaurs, we cut a wide circle around the herd. The undergrowth was thicker here, but—as the forests swallowed the bellowing of the Pachy-somethings—it appeared to be the right call. Still, not only was the undergrowth thicker, but the canopy seemed to close in on us. The woods darkened as the cycads rose up tall, and ferns choked the ground around us. Compared to the part of the forest we were just in—which had been well-grazed by the various herbivores of Hell Creek—this area felt… abandoned.

And, eerily silent—the distant sound of the Pachy-somethings now entirely gone.

“This place is creepy,” Lucy whined as we fought our way through a dense thicket of ferns.

Hannah shot her an annoyed look, but didn’t say anything. None of us did—although I couldn’t help but think she had a point. The thick canopy overhead cast the forest floor in dark and gloomy shadows. The silence around us was only occasionally broken by the chittering of unseen insects.

Even the swarm seemed to have fallen into stillness—as if alert.

I surveyed my surroundings, trying to figure out what kind of place this was. Could there be a swamp on the other side of the foliage? Was that why the plants were growing out of control? But a swamp shouldn’t stop other dinosaurs from hanging around… So, why did it seem so much more quiet?

A sudden rustling from the ferns in front of us caused me—alongside Daniel, Camilo, and Lucy—to leap backwards in surprise. Hannah, surprisingly composed, stoically lowered her spear toward the rustling. “Stay behind me,” she said.

But the spear was overkill. A small, fuzzy dinosaur, coated in beige downy feathers emerged from the ferns. The creature was no bigger than a small dog—two or three feet long at most, and stood on two skinny legs as it stared up at Hannah with big black eyes.

It chirped at her. Amber and Lucy, in near unison, let out a long aww.

Hannah lowered her spear slowly. “Probably nothing to worry about…” she muttered. “Let’s keep going.”

But Amber and Lucy ignored her. They rushed forward toward it. “What is this little cutie?” Amber asked.

“Probably some scavenger, let’s keep mo-” Hannah started, but Amber cut her off.

“I think it’s a baby. Oh, it’s so cute!” she said.

Hannah rolled her eyes and began to walk away, but turned around when she noticed none of us were following her. “Come on. Who knows what’s in these woods!”

“If it’s more cuties like this guy I’d like to stay a little bit,” Amber cooed as the little dinosaur rolled onto its back and waggled its downy tail—provoking another round of aws from Amber and Lucy.

I had to admit, it was pretty fucking cute.

The dinosaur rose to its feet and looked around—almost as if looking for something. Then, after walking in a few small circles, it turned to Amber and chirped at her. “It looks lost…” Amber said. “Just like us.”

“We’re not lost. We know where we’re going,” Hannah retorted. “So let’s keep moving.”

While Hannah took a few impatient steps back and forth, Amber stopped to hunch down in front of the baby dinosaur. It hopped toward her, its movements reminding me of a crow.

She reached her hand out in the same way someone would do to a stray cat. However, once it snapped at the air—revealing small, needle-like teeth—Amber quickly retracted her hand again.

“Careful,” Hannah said.

While the dinosaur let out another chirp, Amber laughed—a hint of nervousness in her voice. She reached out to it with the butt end of her spear. “Look,” she said. The dinosaur tilted its head, before closing its jaws around the stick. “She just wants to play.”

“She?” Camilo echoed.

The dinosaur proceeded to gnaw at the stick, while Amber tugged at the other end. “Yes, I just know,” she said simply, without taking her eyes off the small creature.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time for this,” she said, starting to walk away.

When Amber hesitated, Camilo chipped in, “Come on. Skippy 2 will be fine.”

“But she’s so small…” Amber said, ignoring his reference to her dog. “What if something happened out here? Those… raptor things could be lurking around.”

“It’s a wild animal,” Hannah said. “And this is the wilderness. It will be just fine.” She paused, as if reconsidering her words. “Or, well, sort of wild, anyway,” she corrected herself.

It took me a moment to remember that we weren’t in a true wilderness. After wandering through a recreation of Hell Creek for the second day in a row, it didn’t feel like a park anymore.

Amber shot her a dirty look, but rose slowly. She looked pleadingly between Camilo and I.

“I’m sure that, uh, she will be fine,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. The dinosaur chewed delicately at a piece of fern. “See? She’s… eating.” I wasn’t entirely sure about that last part—the dinosaur appeared to be playing with the plant rather than actually feeding on it.

Amber nodded slowly with understanding. She waved a dismissive hand at the little dinosaur. “Come on, girl. Get out of here!” she shooed.

The dinosaur dropped the piece of fern at her feet. Then, it looked up at her with its large, black eyes. It let out a soft, disarming chirp.

“Let’s keep going,” Jay muttered and started walking. Lucy trailed after them, staring wide-eyed at the tiny dinosaur.

Amber turned away with a deep sigh. Her shoulders sagged as she began to walk off. The dinosaur, however, followed her closely as she strode away. “Get out of here. You can’t come along,” Amber said—but her tone had resigned to half-heartedness.

The dinosaur kept following her, chirping as it went.

I expected Amber to give in and turn around but, to her credit, she somehow managed to keep her gaze ahead of her—despite a hint of tears welling up in her eyes. Instead, I was surprised to see Daniel suddenly stop. “Alright, guys, can we… Can we keep her?” Then, he added, “She’s… totally adorable.”

We all halted. “Keep it?” Hannah said. “You’re joking, right?”

Amber spun around to face the baby dinosaur, breaking into a smile. “Of course she can come with us.”

“You’re insane,” Hannah muttered as she massaged the space between her brows. “Whatever. I’m going to the Expedition Center.” And, with that, she strode ahead of us.

Ignoring her, Amber leaned down—tentatively reaching out to the dinosaur. It squawked excitedly and rubbed its elongated head against her hand.

“Are you sure…” Before I could finish, Amber scooped it up. The tiny creature settled into her arms just like I had seen Skippy do.

I exchanged a skeptical look with Camilo, although—like me—he seemed too tired to argue with her. Instead, we resumed our trek through the woods. While Amber altered between carrying the dinosaur and letting it trail after her, Daniel and Lucy cooed over it.

After some time, we emerged from the forest. Sunlight brightened our surroundings as a large building appeared in front of us. It was a curious mixture of rustic log cabin with hyper-modern gallery. Tall vaulted, wooden roofs rose above wide windows which banded the building—making it glimmer in the afternoon sun.

We trailed along the side of the building until we found what we were looking for: a wide open doorway, above which were tall white letters which read “EXPEDITION CENTER.” Before the doorway was a wide trail which wound down the hill and—peering down—I could see the wreckage of the gift shop maybe a mile away. A few Triceratops still lounged around it.

These were, somehow, the first signs of civilization we had seen in a day—although it had felt more like sixty-five million years.

Hannah pointed at the letters. “See! I told you I knew where we were going,” she said to Amber, her voice savagely triumphant.

Amber rolled her eyes, clutching the small dinosaur closer to her. “Whatever. Let’s go inside.”

Going through the doors led us to a wide lobby, and a huge vaulted ceiling hung above us. Stairs on either side of the room led up to another floor balcony, and another floor above that. Above each door were signs bearing symbols: toilets, a fork and knife, a dinosaur footprint, a gift box… And in the center of the lobby stood a tall sculpture of Archean riding atop a Spinosaurus, expertly carved out of a shiny, obsidian substance.

“Guess we know why he was so excited to get us here,” Hannah muttered.

I didn’t quite agree with her. Based on my impression of the hero, I suspected he wanted to get us to the food court—which I assumed is where the fork and knife symbols led.

Nevertheless, the Expedition Center wasn’t quite the return to civilization I hoped for. It was stifling hot and humid inside, while long shadows crawled across the lobby. It was clear that the power was out. Looking at my tired classmates, I hoped it didn’t mean that the food had gone to waste.

It appeared like the same thought crossed their minds as well, as our group began to gravitate toward the food court.

Different restaurants and cafées lined the court, while tables and seats were scattered across the room. Amber, still carrying the small dinosaur, headed toward what appeared to be a café—similar to the one we had been to in the gift shop. Meanwhile, Jay, Lucy, and Daniel set course toward a McDonald’s; surprisingly plain-looking in comparison to the dinosaur-themed establishments around it. I spotted a Tricerachef restaurant and a diner called Dinorama. Next to it stood a fast food joint called Burger-Rex, which itself was opposite to an Italian place called Pterolini…

A wave of self-consciousness struck me as I became increasingly aware that I alone wasn’t starving. I wasn’t hungry at all.

To cover up for this, I cast my gaze around the food court. In the center of the room was—of all things—a merry-go-round. The horses were, predictably, replaced by dinosaurs which I imagined danced to music when the power was on.

But it wasn’t. Just like the lobby, the food court was dark—the only light streaming in came from the large gallery windows on our left. Still, I headed toward the carousel. If it looked like I was inspecting it, I hoped it wouldn’t be as suspicious that I wasn’t joining the others.

That’s when it hit me.

I smelled it before I saw it. As soon as the copper-like scent washed over me, I instinctively slowed. I glanced back at the others. No one appeared to have noticed it—probably unable to detect it. While the others had went off to check out the different food places, Camilo and Hannah followed just behind me before splitting of toward Pterolini. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, but even so, a wariness overcame me.

Walking as lightly as I could, I tried to pinpoint where the smell was coming from. Then, I heard a low buzz—much weaker than that of my bees.

Flies.

I followed their sound to the corner of the room when I saw it. A body lay sprawled in a pool of red. I realized that the metallic scent I had picked up was blood—one I must have internalized from months ago, when I stumbled upon the body of Mr. Howells.

I halted. The body lay still—definitely dead. He wore what appeared to have once been a business suit, now shredded apart and soaked in blood. His stomach had been torn apart, revealing a mess of fleshy bits and organs.

Although the circumstances were entirely different now, the body’s ruthless evisceration still reminded me of Mr. Howells.

It was the same act of viciousness. The type of violence only something very, very hungry would do.

I backed off, turning toward Hannah and Camilo. Although a small distance away from me, they were closer than anything else. I saw them reaching over a pasta bar, presumably searching for something edible. I waved to get their attention. Once they looked at me, my voice fell to a hush.

“I’m not sure we’re alone.”