Reluctantly, Thomas followed after the velociraptor, plunging into the dense foliage, his Adams-apple bobbing, the back of his neck slick with sweat. The trees overhead blocked nearly all the sunlight, and Thomas was unhappily aware that he and the raptor were making a lot of noise. The path was decent, however. In fact, Thomas thought it looked like it had once been a road of some sort. Plenty of underbrush grew on its eroded crown, and a double line of weeds padded what may have once been wheel-ruts.

Eventually the staggering raptor lead him to a large, dilapidated building that covered several acres, stretching away into the encroaching trees. Thomas saw that the building was of modern design, concrete and glass. It had a utilitarian quality, even though the jungle had long ago grown up around it. The aged roof was overgrown with vines and moss. Panes of glass were broken; ferns sprouted between cracks in the concrete. The portico sagged. And one of the walls looked as though it had long ago suffered some terrible impact. Perhaps it had been struck by a speeding car. Or a charging triceratops, Thomas thought warily. Either way, the wall was badly cracked and starting to crumble.

Thomas tailed the raptor around the building and found a pair of large, swinging glass doors that led into a darkened lobby beyond. The glass was scratched and dirty, the chrome door-handles pitted with corrosion. He watched the raptor push open the door with its snout and slip (More like sleep-walk) inside. Thomas glanced after it, his brow scrunched in confusion.

Why did it lead me *here*?

His eyes flicked up at the roof of the building. He could see heat rising from it in a shimmering ribbon. He wondered when (not if) the roof would finally collapse, given its state of disrepair.

I suppose this *would* make a decent lair for a lone velociraptor . . . provided it wasn’t smart enough to understand what kind of damage a ceiling-cave-in might do to it.

His eyes returned to the glass doors. He tried to peer through the grime, and thought he could see the raptor standing at the end of the lobby. Waiting for him. He felt suddenly cautious. He half-turned and looked back at the forbidding jungle behind him. To go back to the jungle for assistance would mean encountering more animals, very likely predatory ones, but to proceed into the building — to follow the raptor into what may very well have been its lair, and not a very solid lair at that — meant danger of another kind.

What do I do now?

But the answer was already staring at him through the glass.

Better to chance it with the one raptor (already half-unconscious) in this code-violation of a building, than to bet on whatever might be waiting for me in the jungle. Besides, he told himself, he had his radio with him. Worst case scenario, he would call for help immediately. And best case scenario, he would wait until the raptor passed out, then call for transit-backup with a clear (and questionably safe) location to give.

With that in mind, Thomas stepped into the building. The air inside was hot and still and fetid. The lobby was small and unimpressive. A reception counter directly ahead was once covered with gray fabric, now overgrown with a dark, lichen-like growth. Mushrooms and fungi sprouted from the carpet. The ceiling was speckled with crusty brown mold.

Thomas called out to the raptor.

“Now what, beastie?”

SEND “💖” AND MY MUSE WILL ADMIT SOMETHING THEY FIND CUTE ABOUT YOURS. | ACCEPTING

He’s telling me a lot of things so I’m just gonna make bullet point

her laugh

the look on her face when I surprise her

how easy she is to surprise

how much she surprises me

her “patches”

Vex took a shaky breath, slumping down on the couch. “I know….I-I know.” She muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. InGen…. Last time they forced me to change…. They made me see things….hear things.” She managed, shaking her head slightly.

“Hate you? Hate you! What are you talking about? I love you!” Probably more than anyone else, he thought, which only made him angrier. This was how it started. This was how he always lost them. He had to do something. But blind, dumb, irrational rage was filling him up.