Volume 7: Copal
Issue 4: Last of a Kind
Florian Reyes Honeywell
By Roach
I lay on my back in bed, staring at the ceiling. The bed was softer and comfier than my bed at home, which I might have appreciated more if I were capable of sleep. It certainly didn’t matter to the swarm; they rested all the same, tucked away within my organs and limbs.
I studied the formation of a crack, its faint lines leading to the base of the ceiling lamp. It was unlit; the sunrays leaking through the curtains provided me with my sole source of light. On the other side of the room, I could hear Jay’s steady breathing, bordering on snoring.
Normally, I spent my sleepless nights doing homework or messing around online. But tonight, I had been pretending to sleep. I didn’t want to give Jay another reason to hate me, and—more importantly—I didn’t want to look suspicious. As far as Jay would ever be concerned, I was just another one of their classmates who slept through the night like a normal person. So, while I had been browsing my phone for parts of the night, I often found myself just staring into the ceiling. Waiting.
Throughout the night, my mind wandered back to the weird light in the sky that Hannah and I had seen. I wondered if anyone else had noticed it, although—if they had—no one had said anything about it. Then again, I left the pool only a short while after my conversation with Hannah.
At first glance, I had thought it could be some kind of astronomical phenomenon. But, as I mulled it over again, it made more sense if IMAGO had a finger in it. Some kind of technological invention—maybe a part of an exhibit, although I wasn’t sure in what capacity. It briefly occurred to me that I could text my mom and ask if she knew anything about it. Although in a different field, she was still an IMAGO employee. Then again, speaking with her now wasn’t very tempting. Maybe, in the morning, I could ask Amber and Camilo if they had noticed anything.
A blare like a security alarm interrupted my thoughts. Jay’s phone alarm. Simultaneously, they shifted in their bed with a groan. Then, seconds later, the alarm stopped.
I didn’t wait to get up and claim the bathroom, so I could brush my teeth and get dressed for the day. Without exchanging any words, the two of us prepared to meet up with the rest of the students.
I joined Camilo for breakfast, and we walked together to the lobby.
“I’m sure Daniel’s snoring is louder than a mammoth’s…” he muttered in between sips from a coffee paper cup.
“Maybe we’ll find out,” I replied dryly.
Excitement seeped into his smile. He opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but no sound came out. Instead, he looked toward the main entrance. I followed his gaze.
Mrs. Porter waved to Archean when he entered through the door. He returned her gesture as he headed toward us, where we had gathered near an unlit fireplace. A saber-toothed tiger’s head hung, like a hunting trophy, above the mantel. I hoped it was fake, although I couldn’t tell for sure.
It was a morbid thought, but the Extinction Refuge had been open for some years now—closer to a decade. And what was the lifespan of a saber-toothed tiger?
“Good morning everyone,” Archean greeted us, and a choir of voices sounded back at him.
Once Holly had finished counting everyone, we departed for the Refuge. We approached a great wilderness, shrouded by the crowns of sequoia trees. Rows of trees funneled us down a forested path. It was a short walk between the lodge and the Refuge, and it only took us a couple of minutes before we had ventured into the forest.
The idle chatter between the students quieted down as Archean cleared his throat. “Alright everyone. I hear that you guys are good students, so I have one pop quiz question for you. Does anyone know what Archean actually means?” As he spoke, he walked backwards to face the group—navigating the terrain with surprising ease.
I had an inkling that the answer had something to do with geology—although I wasn’t confident in exactly what way. The following moment of uncertain silence suggested that no one else was sure either. Archean spoke up again, “That’s okay. This isn’t class, so you guys are off the hook.” He chuckled as he glanced at Mrs. Porter, whose neutral expression indicated that she was less amused by his joke.
He continued, “That being said, Archean isn’t just my hero name. It denotes a period of geologic time. More specifically, it’s in the middle of the Precambrian era—about 4,000 to 2,500 million years ago. Early life forms appeared during this time. Now, the Extinction Refuge won’t take you that far back into the past, but we’re still going to visit some of different geologic periods. Can any of you tell me which period is the most recent?”
There was another pause between the students. As we continued to walk down the path, the trees diminished as the landscape opened up into a grassy plain. Ahead of us, I glimpsed the tail-end of a line of people… Finally, the green-haired girl next to Jay spoke up, “Umh… The Anthropocene?”
“Well, sort of.” Archean smiled underneath his mask. “Some scientists still debate whether or not we’ve entered into the Anthropocene—a name which refers to humanity’s influence on the planet. But, these days, geologists are discussing whether or not we’re overdue for an entirely new term.” His smile widened. “They’re calling it the Dynacene. Like other time periods, the word ‘Dyna’ is derived from the Ancient Greek ‘Dunamis,’ which means power. ‘Cene,’ then, means recent, or new. So, can anyone tell me what ‘Dynacene’ means?“ He left the question open to all of us.
There was a moment of silence, before Hannah spoke. “Age of new power,” she said simply. I glanced in her direction, where she stood some paces behind Camilo and I.
Archean beamed. “Exactly! It refers to the superpowers that characterize this period. And, speaking of the Dynacene…”
As we walked, we got closer to the line of people waiting by the Refuge’s gates. I started to wonder how long we would have to wait to actually get into the Refuge. Hopefully, Archean knew enough fun facts to last us a while longer; but, instead, he marched on—guiding us straight past the line.
Some of the guests who had been waiting called out his name, and—while the hero politely waved back to them—he didn’t stop. Others sent dirty looks our way as we skipped past them in line.
“Do you see that?” Camilo said, nodding to a group at the front of the line. Judging by their cameras, notebooks, and bags of equipment, they looked like journalists. A few more were scattered throughout the line, carrying similar equipment.
I nodded. “What do you think that’s about?” I said, glancing back. One particularly sour-faced man—his face hidden behind a thick beard—caught my eye. He kept fidgeting with his oversized backpack, and didn’t look like a tourist or a journalist.
But before I could mention it, we reached a large arching gate—its metal frame topped by the Extinction Refuge’s logo. The logo portrayed the strands of a DNA slowly merging together into the shape of a bird—like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
When we approached, the gate swung open. “Welcome to the Extinction Refuge,” Archean said.
Before us lay a wide thoroughfare lined with guest shops, info kiosks, at least two cafées, a restaurant, and bronze statues of IMAGO heroes—Archean featured most prominently in the center. Some tourists gathered around the statues, posing for selfies with the heroes’ likeness. Then, at the end of the road, paths diverged and snaked around a replica of the Sydney Opera House. A wide field of green grass unfolded behind it, where a scattering of kangaroos immediately drew my attention. When we got closer, I could see that some of them grazed and looked lazily our way while others made a few cautious leaps toward us. Dry grass rustled beneath their feet when they jumped.
One approached the fence where a group of students had gathered, looking at them while its teeth gnawed like a deer’s. The head of an even tinier kangaroo hung out of its pouch, glancing up with marble eyes.
“You know, I saw those in the wild before they went extinct,” Amber said, nodding to the kangaroos.
“No way!” Jazmine let out an almost yearning sigh. “It’s really just so tragic.”
“You mean, in like a zoo or something?” Camilo interrupted, glancing between Amber and the kangaroo baby.
She shook her head. “Family vacay in Melbourne,” she said. “I must have been, like, five or something. So, Australia hadn’t been totally destroyed yet.”
Next to me, Camilo rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
I continued to stare at the kangaroos, wondering what it would have been like. As I stared at them, I found myself fascinated by their long tails. How they supported their upper bodies, almost like a fifth leg balancing on the ground.
As we continued to walk down the path, I noticed another one of Australia’s icons—the koala—hanging from the eucalyptus trees around us. From the back of our group, I heard the theater kids chatting—loud as ever.
“Look how fluffy it is!” Lucy nearly shrieked. “I want one.”
Jay replied, “You know, even if Australia hadn’t been wiped out of existence, koalas still would have managed to go extinct just fine on their own.”
“What are you going on about?” she replied.
“They’re useless animals. Cute, but useless,” they said.
“Who hurt you?” Lucy muttered back.
We moved past the Australia exhibit, and followed the main path toward a large greenhouse. The greenhouse was dome-shaped, with a small tunnel at the beginning—a bit like a glass igloo. Camilo and I trailed some paces behind Jazmine and Amber as we headed inside. A light buzz rippled through the swarm in response to the mingling flora scents. Traces of foreign pheromones that I couldn’t understand hung in the air.
The tunnel leading into the dome was empty, with smooth walls almost like mirrors. Suddenly, the walls flashed a white light—which quickly faded to the Extinction Refuge’s logo. And I realized the walls weren’t metal or anything like that; they were screens.
Ahead of the group, Archean raised his voice, “I’m sure some of you are wondering just how IMAGO works our magic. While I know some of the process, I’m no scientist. So, I’ll let the experts speak for themselves.” When he said the last part, he gestured to the walls of screens. He continued, “Before we enter the gardens, you can look around and see how we turn back the clock on extinction.”
As we continued to walk down the tunnel, I watched the images around us flicker and change. “Hello, and I hope you’ve been enjoying your time in the Extinction Refuge,” a cheery woman’s voice said. “All the animals you’ve seen so far may be extinct in the wild, but we’ve managed to keep them alive thanks to breeding programs in zoos around the world. However, the animals you’re about to see went extinct years before we started the Extinction Refuge project.
“To bring these wondrous creatures back to life, we’ve utilized a variety of highly advanced techniques. Take, for example, one of the beautiful animals in the gardens you’ll be exploring soon: the Xerces blue.” An image of a vivid blue-winged butterfly appeared, fluttering across the screens. “These beautiful insects went extinct in the 1940s… But, thanks to preserved specimens, we were able to retrieve and reconstruct the complete Xerces blue genome.
“But that was the easy part. The hard part was creating a good place where baby butterflies could be incubated, since there weren’t any butterfly moms around anymore! We were only able to do this thanks to one of our very own scientists and heroes: Darwinist.” The screen changed again to show another one of the heroes on IMAGO’s team: a man in a big lab coat, his identity concealed behind a featureless and reflective silver mask. Below him read the words IMAGO™’s One and Only DARWINIST™.
The voice continued, “Thanks to Darwinist’s scientific genius, we were able to create artificial incubation chambers for thousands of different animal species. Now, the only thing we need to turn back the clock on Extinction is a complete genome…”
The voice faded away as we slowly walked through the tunnel and emerged into the domed greenhouse, where flowers splattered a kaleidoscopic mix of yellow, pink, and purple around us. The scent of the pheromones from before grew stronger. Orange and bright blue butterflies flitted between the flowers and hovered below the glass ceiling, soaking in the sunlight from above. The orange ones almost looked like monarch butterflies—but, as I approached the flower beds, I noticed that their pattern seemed different.
“They’re so pretty,” Lucy said from somewhere behind us.
“You know butterflies can drink blood? And tears?” Jay muttered in return.
Archean spoke over their murmured conversation: “Alright guys, meet the checkerspot butterfly.” He gestured to one of the orange butterflies, which quickly flitted away. “Before its extinction, this used to be an endemic species. If you’ve been paying attention in class, you might know that the word endemic means that something can only be found in a single area. Just like kangaroos and koalas were endemic to Australia. Well, the checkerspot had an even smaller range, with a single population which lived in the mountains of New Mexico. However, the population disappeared shortly after the crisis in 2019. While their population was already vulnerable due to a changing climate, it’s believed that nuclear fallout ultimately sealed their extinction.”
I inspected a butterfly which perched on a flower. As its name implied, the butterfly had checker-patterned scales—which were interchangeably light yellow and deep auburn, haloed in black. Next to me, I saw Holly pull out her phone and snap a few pictures of the colorful insect.
“Oh my God.” Daniel’s voice pulled me out of my own bubble, and I looked up. “Camilo, bro. Check this out.”
Camilo and I both turned to Daniel. He had appeared in front of us, and was now pointing to his own face. “Look!” he exclaimed. One of the butterflies had settled on his nose, draping its wings over his cheeks.
“Don’t scare it,” Camilo warned, although a playfulness snuck into his voice. “You don’t want to cause a second extinction.”
Daniel’s blue eyes widened. His body froze up as he pursed his lips together.
A few moments passed by in silence, before Camilo said, “What… What are you doing?” He squinted at the Albatross. “Are you… holding your breath?”
Daniel nodded. “I don’t want to… disturb it,” he said, his voice thin from sucking in his breath.
“If you keep that up, it might think you’re a flower,” Camilo said. “It could eat you.”
Daniel burst out into laughter. “Relax, it’s a joke,” the football player explained. At the same time, the butterfly took off—fluttering in between the flowers. “Well, bye little guy…” Daniel said as it disappeared among the petals.
Camilo crossed his arms over his chest, forcing an uncertain chuckle.
Archean continued to guide the students through the greenhouse. A handful of tourists who must have recognized him trailed a short distance behind us, seemingly trying to catch Archean’s explanation for the extinction of the Xerces blue—which came down to developments happening around San Francisco at the time. Or, they just wanted to get a better look at the hero. After we had completed a circle around the dome, we exited back through the tunnel. As Archean rushed us back to the path, we lost the curious tourists trailing behind us.
As we ventured deeper into the refuge, I could see hints of other exhibits in the distance. Rivers ran through forests, while mounds of earth and stone swelled in the distance. A line of mountains rose up beyond, impossibly close and too small to be real mountain ranges. Still, as I studied them, they appeared paradoxically huge.
My attention was drawn to a large lake yawning from the ground ahead of us. And, most notably, the large, towering structure which appeared to rise from the center of the lake. The building resembled a giant lighthouse. It didn’t appear to be situated on an island or anything of the sorts, instead rising out of the water itself. There was a bridge which led from the lakeside to the tower. The bridge lay so low to the surface, that I almost thought the water would spill over it. It looked like something from a dream.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
And, in the far distance, I thought I could see that glimmer in the sky from the night before—albeit near invisible against a clear, blue sky.
“Alright, let’s get going.” When Archean made the announcement, I had expected him to take us to the lake or one of the roads diverging off the main path. But, instead, we veered away from the lake and its strange lighthouse.
“What’s that?” a student piped up from the front of the group, as we passed by the lake.
“That’s Resurrection Lake, which is also the home of our aquarium,” Archean explained. “It houses some different fishes, and it’s the only place you can see the Ozark hellbender, the dusky gopher frog, the Arroyo toad—just to name a few. It’s partially submerged, so you can actually go down to the lower levels to get an underwater view of the lake.”
“Cool, I wanna see!” another voice chipped in.
“Not now,” Archean said, but the undertone of excitement in his voice contradicted the rejection. “Some of the folks here at the park would like to meet all of you.”
We continued along the main path, heading into the trees. After a few minutes of walking—passing by a forest exhibit of thylacines and a passenger pigeon aviary—we had been funneled into a valley.
A large tent appeared ahead of us. Three figures lingered outside of it. When we approached, I saw that they wore matching uniforms: white khaki short-sleeved button-ups and matching shorts, embroidered with the Extinction Refuge’s logo. White pith helmets sat on their heads, while their belts had been embellished with futuristic-looking gear—which I thought was more for show than functionality. The group waved to us.
When we approached, one of the costumed people turned to her companions. “Well, would you look at that? A fellow group of travelers?” The woman folded her hands behind her back.
“Hello strangers,” a man said.
Archean chuckled. “Well, I see the Time Corps is already out and about. Just on time, too,” he said, his tone playful.
“Follow us,” one of the Time Corps guides said cheerfully, “and we’ll lead you to a very special place… the tropical island paradise of Mauritius in the seventeenth century!”
“Who are the Time Corps supposed to be?” Camilo muttered under his breath.
Although the question was directed at me, Daniel turned to us now. “They’re, like, the time travelers in the Refuge,” he replied, flipping through a brochure I wasn’t sure where he had gotten from.
“So… It’s like LARPing?” Camilo said.
I shrugged. “I guess… Just go along with it,” I muttered, not entirely sure what he meant.
Daniel raised his fist enthusiastically. “To the seventeenth century!” he said, a football cheer in his voice.
Following our guides, we walked a winding trail—surrounded by rocks on all sides—until we reached a wooden gate. On the other side of the gate lay a recreation of a tropical beach. Our guides opened the gate and—as we trickled through—I saw that the beach created a crescent shape against the water. Despite smelling and sounding like the ocean, the body of water was no bigger than a lake. A pier led out to a wooden galleon which bobbed softly in the lake’s center.
The trail continued to meander between the palm trees, while waves lapped gently upon the white sand just off the path. The air was far warmer and more humid than Northern California in April had any right to be—another one of IMAGO’s technological accomplishments, I speculated.
But my attention was soon preoccupied by a small flock of birds pecking at the ground before us. They were bigger than I had expected, but still only a few feet tall and covered with gray and white feathers. Their round bodies, small wings, and oversized beaks gave them an almost comical appearance. They were dodos; real and alive.
“You can feed these guys, kinda like pigeons,” Archean said. “There’s plenty of bird seeds in these storage units around the exhibit.” The hero pointed to a lidded, yellow box near the path—which presumably contained bird feed.
One of the Time Corps members nodded. “So, in your time period, the closest relatives of the dodo would actually be a pigeon,” she said, still maintaining her time traveling façade.
Gabriel, who had been trailing behind us with the rest of the theater kids, caught up to Camilo now. “Pigeons, huh?” A teasing grin appeared on his face. “Maybe it’s Gladiator’s grandad.” I remembered back to feeding the pigeons outside the mall with Camilo, and now wondered if he shared similar memories with Gabriel…
As the two started to approach a nearby dodo, I backed slightly away from them. The group of students broke off into smaller groups, now dispersing throughout the exhibit. When I looked around, I saw that Amber had already gone to reach her hand out to one of the dodos. The large bird looked at her quizzically, bobbing its head like a chicken when it approached. Jazmine aimed her phone camera at her friend. Behind them, Holly stood with Mrs. Porter—seemingly trying to make small talk.
Then, slightly away from them, I spotted Hannah. A group of dodos had circled around her. Once I saw the dodo actually standing next to someone, its stature took me by surprise once more. Standing three feet tall, their heads reached to Hannah’s waist—with beaks so large it looked like they could bite over someone’s arm. As Hannah smiled at me, she scattered another handful of seeds on the ground around her.
I walked over to her. “I see you made some friends,” I said.
“They’re kinda cute, but in a weird way, you know?” she said. She crouched down now, while the dodos cooed and pecked at the ground for seeds.
“I’m not sure I do,” I replied, thinking that the two descriptions were somewhat contradictory. I met the dodo’s stare, its pale blue eyes almost alien in their intensity. It was a bit surreal—like I had come face to face with something that really wasn’t supposed to be there.
She looked between me and the dodo. Although her head shook slightly, she smiled.
“What?” I said, a rush of self-consciousness washing over me.
“You wanna try?” She reached her hand toward me, where a small collection of seeds rested in her palm.
I crouched down next to her. Now, we were both at eye-level with the birds. They circled around us, showing no signs of fear—just like an animal that was either very used to people, or had never encountered them before and had yet to learn to fear them.
Just like the actual dodos on the island of Mauritius, I thought to myself. And, as I studied the extinct animal, I felt an unplaceable ache inside of me. It occurred to me that these animals had no way of knowing that they were supposed to be wiped out from existence; no knowledge of the horrors on Mauritius, of how the dodo had originally been hunted to extinction.
Which was probably for the best.
Hannah dropped some of the bird feed from her hand into mine, interrupting my thoughts. While Archean had encouraged us to feed them, I still felt wary as I reached my hand out to the nearest one.
Wielding its enormous beak, it pecked toward me. I instantly retracted my hand, dropping the seeds onto the ground. The bird happily picked them up, crunching them in its beak.
“You’re so…” Hannah trailed off, instead reaching out for one of the dodos.
“So what?” As I said it, I realized that I held my hands up to my chest, almost protectively.
“Worried?” She said it almost like a question.
It struck me that that’s what Amber said about me, too. That stupid nickname. Florry-worry. But hearing it from Hannah, it suddenly had some more gravity to it. I watched her run her fingers through the dodo’s gray feathers.
“About what?” I said.
“I don’t know. About the dodos? But they’re so… docile. Probably very used to people.”
“Maybe…” I paused.
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe they’re… dodo-cile?” I was surprised to find myself cracking a smile when she rolled her eyes. It was the kind of bad joke Camilo would make; it sounded almost foreign coming from me. But still, seeing her stifling a chuckle—trying her best to look annoyed—somehow made it worth it.
Maybe I had been too on edge. I wasn’t really sure why, but now, I felt my shoulders untense. I reached my hand out to one of the dodo’s, tentatively touching its feathers. They were surprisingly soft.
Just as I started to feel more at ease, a voice bellowed from up ahead. It was Archean. “Alright, we’ll be moving along soon.”
Hannah looked up now, her eyebrow raised. “He keeps rushing,” she muttered. She stroked the dodo’s back one last time, before pulling her hand away.
“Maybe he wants to get to the mammoths?” I suggested. As I got up, dodos swarmed my feet—presumably in anticipation of more food.
“Or maybe he’s in a rush to… I don’t know, play with his fossils or whatever it is that heroes do. Don’t you find it a bit weird that he’s touring us instead of saving the world or something?”
I was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. At the same time, she had a point. It was somewhat extravagant to have Archean tour a group of high schoolers. A feeling which seemed more prominent whenever we bypassed other guests, who would either stare, follow, or try to talk to him. And he did seem to be in a bit of a rush—even before, when he took us past the aquarium…
“Maybe…” I trailed off, unsure of what else to say. Following our classmates, we started walking after Archean—toward the mountains.
A cave opened up on the mountainside, with another Time Corps tent placed outside of it. It seemed innocuous, but the line of visitors holding maps outside the opening told me it was more than just some random cave. The Time Corps guys just nodded to Archean as we passed through, the crowd parting before us as we skipped ahead in line. I tried to ignore the glares we were getting from some of the tourists, instead focusing on the path ahead of us. We passed through the large cave; darkness engulfed us, the only light coming from torches placed on either side of the path. Their flickering light illuminated a vivid scene around us. On the rock walls of the cave were hundreds, if not thousands, of cave paintings. Images of hand prints, hunting scenes, animals, human shapes… For a moment, I could pretend to have stumbled upon real cave paintings—although a voice in my head reminded me that this was all staged.
It wasn’t long until we were out on the other side. Light momentarily blinded me, while a sudden rush of frigid—yet crisp—air washed over me. As the cold sunk into me, I felt the swarm bristle weakly inside of me—the low temperatures starting to suppress their movement.
“Welcome to the Pleistocene Paddock,” Archean said.
Before me stretched a huge, seemingly untamed, snowy wilderness. Brown, rolling hills dominated the landscape, covered in patches of pure white snow. Clusters of bright colors—flowers of some kind—emerged here and there, but were almost entirely swallowed up by the inhospitable landscape. Interspaced on riverbanks and along the ring of mountains surrounding the Paddock were forests of conifer trees. The only signs of civilization I could see—other than the walking trails criss-crossing the landscape—were a few clusters of hide tents, and a large timber building that appeared to be at the center of the area. I filled my lungs with air that was cleaner than any I had breathed before.
While the rest of us started to shiver, I saw Hannah pull a black coat out from her satchel. The fabric had a more athletic appearance—thin enough to be comfortable, but thick enough to keep someone warm. When she noticed me staring, she looked back at me. “What?”
“Where did you get that from?” I said.
“Packed it,” she said. “You didn’t?”
I shook my head, suddenly realizing my own shortsightedness. One of the Extinction Refuge’s main selling points was that they had basically recreated the Ice Age. Why hadn’t I thought to bring a jacket?
“Well, so… What now?” Jazmine turned to Amber, with a slight tremble in her voice. I started to realize I wasn’t alone, as the group of students alternated between expressions of uncertainty and wonder as they peered out over the landscape.
“Don’t worry,” Archean said. He started walking toward a nearby hide tent, positioned just outside the cave opening. “You can find jackets in this gift shop here,” he said. And, with a smile, he added, “Take your pick. It’s on the house.”
I imagined that the Extinction Refuge probably made decent revenue from unsuspecting Californians in need of winter gear—who had underestimated IMAGO’s ability to control the weather—so I was glad to hear that we were covered for.
We trickled into the tent in turns, as to avoid overcrowding it. I walked in alongside Camilo, trailing just behind Amber and Jazmine. The gift shop had various clothes, trinkets, and Extinction Refuge-themed wear. Plushies of mammoths, saber-toothed tigers, and dire wolves lined the shelves. While Camilo and I found ourselves jackets which mimicked a park ranger’s—except, with the Extinction Refuge’s logo—Amber and Jazmine walked out in puffer jackets complemented with pink gloves and earmuffs.
As we ventured deeper into the Pleistocene Paddock, it didn’t take us long to find the mammoths. They stood strong and proud against the icy landscape around them—even the massive wilderness seemed incapable of dwarfing their large stature. They were covered head-to-toe in thick wooly fur, while long, curved tusks emerged from their mouths. Their enclosure stretched further than I could see—encircled in tall plexiglass and concrete fences which I hadn’t even noticed at first. But, now that I saw it, I also spotted raised platforms interspersed along the exhibit’s edge. Each platform appeared to contain what looked like bushels of hay. Could we go up there to feed the mammoths?
As we approached the enclosure, I couldn’t help but draw the comparison to elephants. I had seen elephants once in my life. On one of my parents’ work trips, when I was still too young to stay home alone, they took me along for a drive that went through Arizona. On a stop outside of Phoenix, we looked for something to do. I mostly think my parents wanted to satiate my boredom from the long drive, so my dad took me to a circus which happened to be passing through at the same time. Circuses tended to draw in performers with minor powers. Although my memories were clouded, I still remembered someone called the Octopus, who had eight arms, and an acrobat who could breathe soap bubbles.
This was also where I had seen the elephants. And, even to my young mind, I couldn’t help but think that they were sad. It was something in their eyes that I recognized.
It occurred to me that the sadness of the elephants had, at times, seemed linked with my own. Before I ever met Camilo and—as much as I hated to admit it—Amber, the idea that I could only fit in at a circus had haunted me during my lowest points. That the swarm would reduce me to an acrobat or a clown.
And, whenever I thought about it, the sad-eyed elephants had come to mind.
When I looked at the mammoths, I was struck by the same sense of recognition as back then—except, now I didn’t feel the sadness anymore. I really wasn’t sure exactly how I felt. It was excitement, estrangement, and awe all mixed together.
As I got closer to the plexiglass, I thought that the mammoth looked back at me as well. We spent a few minutes watching the herd graze before Daniel asked, “Can we feed them?”
“Sorry guys, but we have to move on right now,” Archean said. There was a feeling of disappointment in the air as he led us away from the mammoths and down another trail which took us through the forest. We passed exhibits for saber-toothed tigers and wooly rhinos, but Archean didn’t stop despite the pleading scattered throughout the group of students—only interrupted by Mrs. Porter’s occasional hush.
Things reached a fever pitch as we passed by a snowy slope built into the artificial mountainside that ringed IMAGO’s Ice Age recreation: a small ski-lift was already delivering guests to the top with snowboards and skis.
“Can we please stop and do some skiing?” Jazmine whined, but Archean was having none of it.
“Trust me,” he said, his voice still chipper, “it’ll be worth it when we get there.”
With forlorn glances back at the slope, we moved on. Ahead, a drastically different scene unfolded in front of us. It looked like a meteor crater had been engraved into the side of the artificial mountains. At ground level, there was a cave with a red ribbon in front of it. And, in front of that, a small stage.
And, just behind the mountains, I again saw that strange blue glimmer in the sky.
But, even stranger, there was a crowd of people with cameras and microphones in the audience—alongside an assortment of well-dressed men and women. A few others, clearly tourist types like us, flocked over as well. But I couldn’t help but feel out of place as Archean brought us to a halt.
“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Archean said before heading up the stage. I glanced at Camilo, who stared blankly back at me in confusion. Then I turned to Hannah, who didn’t seem to register me—instead looking stony-faced at Archean.
Archean mounted the stage and, clearing his voice, spoke into the microphone. “I’m no public speaker, so I’ll try to make this quick,” he jovially said, mustering some chuckles from the crowd. There was a small pause before he continued, “At the Extinction Refuge, we’ve changed the world, changed science, and brought the long dead back to life. But, for so long, some animals have remained out of our reach—too far in the past to recreate.”
He made another theatrical pause. “That is, until today,” he finally said. “When IMAGO brought me on as one of their heroes, we learned something about my power.” The flashing of cameras rained over the stage as Archean reached for the sash across his chest. He touched one of the bones sewn into it. A moment later, a creature—somewhere between a bird and a lizard—blinked into existence next to him. “As you may know, my creations aren’t truly living. They are projections of what they once truly were—just like my friend the pyroraptor here.” The raptor, which reached no higher than his knees, let out a small squawk when Archean petted its feathered head. Its crimson plumage glistened from the flashes of cameras. “But, me and the rest of IMAGO discovered something about them. They still retain the DNA of the organism they once were.”
As the crowd pressed around the stage, I had been sandwiched in between Camilo and Amber. Now, we looked back and forth between one another; their expressions mirrored my own with a sort of curious confusion.
Something big was coming, looming over the crowd.
I tossed a look over my shoulder—sneaking another glance at Hannah. With her arms crossed over her chest, she stared intently at the stage. Her brows knotted together.
“So today, for special guests of IMAGO and members of the press, I’d like to preview something we’ve been working on these past few years,” Archean continued. “With my powers and the geniuses we have working with us, we’ve managed to recreate an ecosystem that has been lost for sixty-six million years.” He paused while the flickering of camera shutters intensified around me. “I’d like to welcome everyone to the Hell Creek Experience.”
Around me, the journalists all raised their hands in unison. I nearly drowned in a sea of questions being shouted in Archean’s direction. But, instead of answering them, he just raised a hand. “Let’s hold questions until you’ve seen the real deal. Just follow behind me and my party,” he said. He then dismounted the stage, ignoring all the questions that were being shouted at him, and headed over to our group. The pyroraptor followed at his heels. “You guys ready?” he asked.
Weak nodding spread throughout the group of students, none of us quite processing what was happening around us.
“Follow me.” Archean smiled, and led us to the cave opening at the base of the crater in the mountainside. The red ribbon still blocked our way, but Archean looked to his creation. “Pyroraptor, if you’d please?”
The raptor swiftly leaped from the ground, then slashed at the ribbon with the long, sickle-like claws on its feet. The ribbon split and fell to the ground. Archean motioned at us. “After you,” he said with a slight bow.
I tried to ignore the hundreds of cameras behind us as we entered into the cave—into whatever the Hell Creek Experience was—although I was beginning to have suspicions. The path winded left and right through the cave, until—after one final turn—a wave of hot and humid air hit me.
We emerged into the light. Blinking, my vision resolved something impossible. A wide, swampy river delta unfolded before us—a path of curving footbridges meandering across it, toward a dense treeline two- or three-hundred yards away. The plants throughout the swamp and forests were entirely unlike anything I had seen before.
But, what truly grabbed my attention were the animals. Huge animals.
Dinosaurs.
Huge, four-legged dinosaurs roamed the marsh—chomping on the ferns below them. They had short necks but very long and fat tails, in addition to a surprisingly vibrant range of colors. A dull brownish green characterized most of the herd, but a few were covered in bright yellow and white spots, blotches, and stripes. We were all silent as we watched them roaming through the marshland, apparently entirely uninterested in the tiny humans who had intruded into their demesne.
I glanced toward Archean. It was a subtle movement, but I could see him shifting his weight from one leg to the other—almost in a giddy way. While the skull mask concealed most of his face, his shining smile remained visible. The moment lasted a split second before he composed himself again.
“Welcome,” he said, his voice now soft and wavering in his excitement, “to Hell Creek.”