ALONE TOGETHER I OWEN GRADY

Before Your Flowers Yet Have Sprung

"So what did you say to him?" Cassandra then said, curious despite herself. "Did you give him both barrels?"

"So... he had the nerve to ask if he could see me again, and I said I didn't think so, that there was simply no attraction, not on my side anyways."

"Whoa, straight for the jugular, Claire."

"Well, it was true," Claire shrugged, "I mean, he is attractive, very I suppose, if you like that rugged Indiana Jones type, but I'm looking for somebody more dynamic - and groomed might I add."

"How did you meet him?"

"Through work actually."

"Is that not awkward?"

"He works in the security division," Cassandra said, pushing a set of double doors open with both hands, before waving Cassandra past the guard, who let them through without a word, "which is on a different part of the island. Our paths don't really cross – he's more of a... outdoors man." Her nostrils flared as if she smelled something bad, making Cassandra repress a smile. "But when we do meet, I know how to handle him. A withering putdown works wonders on his ilk" – As she spoke, her phone started ringing again, Claire pulling it out of her pocket, her face paling as she checked the screen, before hurriedly cutting the call off. "That's funny," she said, stowing it away again, "usually the signal is excellent down here."

"Bad signal, my ass," Cassandra muttered, making Claire glare at her. "That was Karen, wasn't it?" she said in her normal voice, giving up the pretence.

Claire pretended not to hear her, only sashaying ahead, leading Cassandra into a large conference room that looked like something out of NASA, with a mammoth sized monitor dominating the dark interior, its surface displaying umpteen screens of CCTV footage, maps and charts. Rows and rows of desks filled the floor in front of it, with people hunched over their computers or scurrying about like worker ants as they spoke anxiously into their headsets, their voices competing with the various radio transmissions echoing from overhead.

"Is this where you keep your very rich person, then?" Cassandra asked, impressed against her will.

"No, this is the control room, where the magic happens," Claire said smartly before making a sudden beeline for a bespectacled man who was leaning back in his chair and twirling his pen like a baton. "What's the live count?" she demanded, making him start violently, Claire glaring at his cluttered desk as she spoke, where he had childishly lined up a procession of plastic dinosaurs.

"Um..."

"Vivien, can you enlighten me?" Claire aimed at a young woman walking past them carrying a pile of folders.

"Certainly, Ms. Dearing," Vivien said, sitting down at her computer, but not before dumping the pile of folders on the bespectacled man's desk. "22, 216," she reeled off, ignoring his loud objections, only to frown at Cassandra as she came over, eying her outfit with disdain.

"Is there a problem?" Cassandra said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And you are?" Vivien retorted, eyebrows climbing up her forehead.

"It's okay, Vivien," Claire responded, her gaze riveted to the large monitor, "she's with me, as in she's my sister, hard it is to believe."

Cassandra flicked her middle finger at Claire, earning another eyeroll. "I'm Cassandra," she said to nobody in particular, "Cassandra Eve Dearing if anyone cares."

"No shit!" the bespectacled man bellowed, sitting up straight as if he'd been electrocuted, dropping his pen as he did. "The Cassandra Dearing?"

"Don't spread it around, man," Cassandra said, pulling a pained face.

"My mom is a huge fan," the bespectacled man continued, unperturbed, "I got her a print of Footprints for Christmas, actually."

Cassandra frowned, having to cast her mind back before remembering. Footprints was a painting of a baby taking its first steps on the beach. It had been inspired by Morgan one summer when she had first started walking, one of the loneliest summers Cassandra had ever known as she finally faced the harsh reality of being a single parent.

"I'm Lowery," the bespectacled man said, holding his hand out to Cassandra, who hesitated before taking it, finding something about him oddly offputting.

"Any incidents, Lowery?" Claire asked, tapping her foot.

"Uh, yeah," Lowery said hastily, sliding his spectacles up the bridge his nose with the tip of his finger as he glanced down at his screen, "we've got the situation with the suitcases - still getting intel on that - then there's six kids in the Lost and Found, with twenty-eight down with heatstroke" –

-"Can you hold that thought?" Claire said as she fired off a text, the response almost instantaneous. "The children are fine," she aimed at Cassandra who had just pulled her own phone out, making her freeze. "You may continue," she then said graciously to Lowery, who lolled back in his seat again.

"As I was saying," Lowery said, scrunching up his eyes, "one case of suspected food poisoning, some duelling triceratops and a partridge in a pear tree" –

-"Where did you get that?" Cassandra cut across him, her horrified gaze falling upon his vintage Jurassic World T-shirt, catching a glimpse of the famous logo as his checked shirt fell open at the neck.

"Get what?"

"Your shirt."

"Oh, eBay," Lowery said airily, stooping down and picking up his pen as he spoke. "I got it for one hundred and fifty dollars, but the ones in mint condition go for three hundred."

"Don't you think it's in poor taste?" Cassandra said, exchanging a glance with Claire who was frowning. "People actually died, just in case you forgot."

"No, I know, but that first park was legit, man."

"Meaning?" Claire said sharply, sensing an insult.

"Well, they didn't need genetic hybrids," Lowery said, folding his arms defensively across his chest, "they just needed dinosaurs, as in the real deal. Nobody was playing God like they do here."

"They've been playing God all the way down the line," Claire said coldly. "Nothing's changed, not really. The process has just... evolved."

"Like the dinosaurs you dream up?" Cassandra said sarcastically, making Lowery glance up, his gaze suddenly appreciative.

"I like your scrunchie," he said seductively, gesturing at it with his pen.

"Stop hitting on my sister," Claire ordered, making Lowery swing his seat back round, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Vivien glanced nervously at Claire. "Ms. Dearing, if you don't mind me asking, did you close the deal?" she asked in a hushed tone, re-adjusting her headset as she spoke.

"Looks like it," Claire smiled. "Verizon Wireless presents the Indominus Rex," she intoned, spreading her hands wide before suddenly freezing. "Why are the West Plains closed?" she demanded, looking at the monitor and then Lowery, blue eyes boring into him.

"Another Pachy roaming outside his zone," Vivien intoned, answering for him again, "but he's fully sedated and ready for relocation."

"Security assured me the invisible fences were a no-fail," Claire said angrily. "That is the second time this month perimeters have been compromised," she said, jabbing her finger at the monitor screen.

"Well, the Pachys short out their implants when they butt heads," Vivien explained, "it's an ongoing problem."

"I want updates, people," Claire said, clapping her hands together before turning to leave, face still furious. "Keep me in the loop."

"See your Harry Potter fences," Cassandra cut in, making everybody glance up at her, "are they the reason my suitcases have gone AWOL?"

"Probably, maybe, yes," Claire snapped. "Don't count on them coming back."