Hybrids: An Indoraptor Story ✓

The Guardian

"Not Seven..."

Those hands tightened again. Speeding up into the lane ahead, his pickup truck swerved ahead of the traffic, speeding across the highway toward his home out of desperation. The sunlight lighting his first tear reflected to the mirror, forcing Click to brush it away with a rub. He already lost his wife. He lost his two girls to life.

He couldn't lose Seven. Not after all this.

A minute into the drive, Click's right hand dove for the phone within the jacket. He didn't need to look to know who to dial, and, upon putting it on speaker, readied his growls, just waiting for an answer.

But none came. Only a woman's voice, ordering for a voicemail.

BEEP!

"So... when you said it was safer in your hands than mine, were you being sarcastic?" he sharply hissed, slowly starting to dig into the gas pedal. "Because it looks like you got... e-everything handled over there! I mean, flames, explosions, dead scientists --  you are a wonder of this planet, Henry! Man, what I would give to just believe you for once -- you know... maybe if you stopped acting like a freakin' robot, you'd keep things under control, but no! You go all of INGEN-"

MESSAGE ENDED.

    Click cursed under his breath, redialing the same number, and waited for the beep.

    BEEP!

    "Hey Wu, it's me -- your angry little friend from California. Listen... I'm just here to congratulate you on one hell of a scare because... this is amazing! You're making me go ninety in a seventy-seven mile per hour highway, panicked as hell because your 'promise' just backfired on ALL OF US! INGEN doesn't blow up on itself, so, if you hurt Seven, I swear-"

    MESSAGE ENDED.

    Click stared at the phone again. He was certain he wasn't pressing the red button at the end, so it must've been the timing of his message. Confused, and annoyed, he tried one more time.

    BEEP!

"You think I'm going to stop calling you, bastard?!" Click growled, snatching the phone to draw to his maw. "I'm Karen now! I will bug you over and over until you confirm something about Seven that'll ease my bloody blood pressure. You don't need a PhD to walk two feet and pick up the phone! So, stop synthesizing, and answer the-"

"HOLY!"

SCREECH!

BOOM!

"..."

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    BEEP!

    "H-Hey Wu... it's me again," Click sighed, now laying on the speckled earth near the side of a road. "I um... I accidentally back-ended a Ford on the highway. Didn't realize that highways had red lights."

    He looked up, watching a tow slowly lift his car onto its back. Hearing the subtle groan of broken metal and glass splintering down the ruined front made his heart give way. The trainer didn't mind the blood specks on his face or fingers, let alone the pain -- that was less important than the issue at bay. So he huffed, returning to the phone, and began to speak.

"But everyone's okay. I just..."

    Click swallowed, pressing the phone tight to his ears, his eyes beginning to water.

    "Henry..." his voice was beginning to crack. "Please tell me she's okay. I don't want to go through this hell again. She's all I have..."

    He lowered the phone, taking a heavy sigh, and drew the phone back to his ears.

    "P-Please call back. I need to k-know. Because, if not, it'll be your fault... and mine. She's a good hybrid... the best of the best. She doesn't deserve th-"

    END OF MESSAGE.

    Drawing the phone an inch lower, Click took another mournful sigh, brushing away a few more tears, before sniveling. "Just answer. Please..."

    The phone went dead.

    Click shuddered, raising a hand to coat his maw, and squeezed his eyes shut. Soft, mournful sobs rippled from his body as he sat there, contemplating all that had happened. While a part of him hoped for Seven's survival, another piece trembled over the prior memory of seeing that burning building on the news. The flames, the heat, the dead scientists...

    If she was dead-

    "You have car insurance, bud?" a voice grunted. Click lifted his teary eyes to an older man standing above him, and quietly gathered the hardboard and pencil from his fingertips.

    "I'll write it down," he raised his hands. "Thanks..."

    Click stared off into the paper for a moment, blinking away his tears, and exhaled. She had to be alive, he thought to himself, beginning to write away. She's survived explosions, she's strong. She's brave. Smarter than me, if I must say.

    But the human world will not spare her. Not like what they've done to her kin. If they find her before he does.

    He shuddered. It was frightening to think of such a desolate future. They had a good long run of success and triumph. Would it end like this? Separated in challenged worlds of dinosaurs and man?

    Click lowered the pencil a second time, and swallowed. Find her, his mind croaked. Bring her home. He could almost imagine Seven staring at him from the paper, her glistening blue eyes reflecting the strong, military boy he had grown up to be. And the soft innocent boy from Chicago that he once was.

When something goes wrong, you deal with it, he echoed the words of his past leader. Military. Civilian. Good or evil. Human or not. Nobody else will commit but you. So, no matter what it takes, finish the mission.

Inhaling the remainder of his anguish and tears, Click returned his attention to his damaged truck, and nodded.

    "Okay..." he breathed.

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