Jump | Zach Mitchell

nineteen

IT'S unsettlingly dark inside the restricted area – but maybe that's just my suppressed goody-two-shoes talking. 

This part of the island is very overgrown. I can faintly hear birds giving soft coos, almost as though they are warning us to turn around.

"Wow," Zach breathes. "This is pretty freakin' cool."

"No," Gray voices from his side of the Gyrosphere. "Bad idea. Bad idea. Let's turn around and go find Aunt Claire. You said that we would, Zach. You said five minutes."

"Great idea!" He insists. "This is the best part of this stupid vacation yet."

I snort. "That's because you're scaring the shit out of your brother."

"No! Very bad idea!" Gray refuses to back down. Then, as an after-thought, he mentions, "You shouldn't say 'shit.'"

I roll my eyes. "If I want to cuss, I think now would be an appropriate time when this dickhead..." I gesture to Zach. "...picks now to be adventurous and get into the Jurassic World spirit."

"There's nothing wrong with breaking the rules every once in a while," Zach argues with a lazy smile. He steers us through thick underbrush. "That's why they were made in the first place."

Gray shakes his head firmly. "No, rules are there to keep people safe. And when you break the rules..." He covers his face in his hands. "You get arrested, and then they shave your head, and then you have to make root beer in toilets."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Zach stares at his younger brother incredulously. I can tell he's losing his patience with our ganging up on him – but he won't listen!

"Who are 'they'?" I ask. "There's no way in hell they are coming anywhere near my hair." I twist the end of my ponytail around my finger. "...and I don't even like root beer."

"The root beer isn't for you," Gray says gravely.

"Then who-"

Zach's hand covers over my mouth for the second time in thirty minutes. "Hey, shut up for a minute." He tilts his head. "What is that noise?"

I shove his palm off, but I do as he says.

We sit still as we strain our ears. I squint into the wild jungle, but all I see is endless green.

"We really shouldn't be here," Gray advises softly.

But, of course, he gets ignored.

"It's coming from this way," Zach says before maneuvering the Gyrosphere in the appropriate direction.

I scoff. "We don't know what that sound is, so yeah, why not go check it out?"

"Are you being sarcastic?" Gray asks.

"No, of course not."

"But that... that was sarcasm... right?"

Zach groans. "All of it was sarcasm, Gray." He drives us around a cluster of trees and then stops. "There. Check that out."

We've reached a small clearing. It's true – four dinosaurs are roaming about in peace, totally unaware that they're being watched by three curious kids in a giant hamster ball.

...or maybe they do notice us and just don't give a shit. After all, their bodies are heavily armored down their backs, and their tail looks like a club. They can definitely take care of themselves.

"Are those..." I run through several names out of a book Gray and I looked through a few weeks ago. "...Ankylosaurus?"

"Yeah," Gray confirms my guess. "Their armor is made with this stuff called Keratin. It's what our fingernails are made out of, and-"

"How did you know that?" Zach whispers against my ear, causing me to jump. He chuckles at my reaction, his breath tickling my skin and making me fight a shiver. "Please tell me that you're not secretly a dino-dork too."

I playfully shove his shoulder. "You wish I was."

"-name means 'fused lizard,' but most paleontologists call them the 'living tank.'" I catch the end of Gray's rant.

I nod. "I can see why. They're pretty built."

Gray opens his mouth and Zach saves us from another informative rant. "Well, there you go, Gray. You're welcome. Up close and personal with four... dinosauruses."

I expect him to smile, or maybe make some sort of comment about Zach's terrible grammar.

Instead, he frowns.

"Five," he murmurs.

"What?"

"There's five dinosaurs."

Zach looks at me, then his brother, then the Ankylosaurus, then Gray, then the Ankylosaurus, then Gray again. "Aren't you supposed to be a genius or something?" He snaps. "Look – with your eyes. That would help." He points as he counts off. "One, two, three, four."

He puts his hand down again, but instead of putting it back on the steering stick, Zach places it on my thigh.

My back straightens and I take a deep breath.

He's so fucking oblivious. He has no idea what he does to me.

Gray fidgets in his seat. "One, two, three, four..." He points to all the dinosaurs in front of the Gyrosphere. "Five." His index finger touches the glass.

"What...?" Zach glares at the surface of our vehicle.

"The reflection," Gray says.

I tilt my head to the side, suddenly no longer focusing on Zach's hand. I can see what Gray is talking about, see the image of the rough grey skin. As I look closer, I can make out wide nostrils and a large expanse of teeth.

"Oh shit," I mutter. "Oh shit, oh shit."

Zach's shaking his head. "I still don't..."

Gray swallows. "Turn around."

Scowling, Zach cranes his neck, twisting his torso to peer behind us.

I hear his sharp intake of breath and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Holy-"

An ear-piercing roar masks his curse.