fanfiction The Land of the Would Be Dead

[rpicardi1]

A Land of The Would Be Dead.

 

A Science Fiction adventure of a group of high school friends that find themselves stranded in a prehistoric world of the past. Based upon the Vietnam War and the popular video game Ark Survival Evolved, they must learn how to survive in that strange new world as they look for some means of escape.

 

As this is being published on the Creative Chat form of Ark Official Community Form and Facebook, I have had to remove all offensive adult language such a story would have  as the Ark forum would automatically censor the offensive words into gibberish and Facebook would place me in Facebook Jail after blocking the story. There will be no such restrictions on the revised edition for the local Writer’s Club.

 

Chapter 1 is currently an outline subject to revisions.

 

Chapter 1. The Vietnam War.

 

It is early Summer of 1965 when this unplanned adventure has started with a letter from Selective Service titled “Greetings.” My six friends from the high school football team received the same letter the same day that I got mine. This unexpected event had canceled our plans to start our own tree service business. We had just invested our savings in the equipment we had needed and just lined up our first job when Selective Service unexpectedly put us out of business. Oh well, it might be possible to start over once we had fulfilled our mandated tour of duty.

As Quarterback of the high school football team and the leadership of Coach Rogers, the seven of us had conducted a most unreal season that lead to us winning the State Championship. That hard work had paid off with us winning every game with lopsided scores like 63 to 0. It wasn’t because we were bigger then all the other players in the other teams, it was because of the teamwork that allowed us to anticipate what plays our opponents were going to try so we could block them at every move. We were so far ahead of the other teams that only one touchdown was scored against us in the entire season, that being in our first game. Needless to say, all of the top collages and universities had their recruiters visiting the school in their efforts to sign us into their football teams, but, us seven farm boys turned them down. We has already made our plans to create our own business and saw no future in higher education under professional sports.

Still, I think that our reputation must have followed us into our upcoming service to the military, first with the seven of us getting our draft notice to report for duty on the same day, and the interest Sargent Thomas at Selective Service showed in us the day we reported for duty that June 29, 1965. Of the 96 recruits that were processed through the center that day to be drafted into the army, eight of us were separated from the rest of the group and told that we were going to be sent to Fort Knox for a special training assignment. That group included my six close friends from the football team and strangely enough, the quaterback of the football team that had scored against us during the first game of the season. Sargent Thomas rode with us in the bus that was taking us to Fort Knox to conduct our basic training. We make two other stops to pick up twelve additional recruits on the all night drive to reach our destination with an additional stops to eat supper.

We arrive at 4:AM at Fort Knox at the new recruitment station to start our day. It has been a long and tiresome trip with it being hard to get any sleep on the bus. Soon as we get off the bus, we are ordered to line up on the yellow footprints where the Staff Sargent in charge screams at us that our day has already started and we are late as usual.

The first day is spent doing “Hurry up and wait” as we are assigned our bunks in housing, get shaved and showered, have breakfast, and make a trip to the barber shop to be sheared. Then, it is off to the quartermaster to pick up our clothes and back to the barracks to change into our uniforms. Of interest is that the 20 of us are assigned bunks together in a squad bay with Sargent Thomas. Normally, the new recruits end up assigned to the ancient wooden WW2 barracks of Fort Knox for their training. “This is interesting,” I think as we are being kept as a separate group for our basic training.

As typical of the Kentucky weather during the Summer, it has been hot and muggy. Us football players, thanks to our football training and farming background, are able to handle the stress of the physical activity in the heat. Not so for three of the “city slickers” in our group of 20 as the three of them pass out from heat stroke on a forced combat march the day before graduation. We end up with a lecture on heat stroke from the base commander when they have to be sent to the hospital and one of them dies from a body temperature that exceeds 112*F.

Still, Sargent Thomas was impressed with how we had handled the situation. Rather then have our entire group suffered punishment for leaving the three victims behind, we had organized ourselves on how to get them and their gear to our destination. So, it was with a surprise on Graduation Day, when he called for the seven of us, along with Larry, Scott, Eddie, and Mike to have a special meeting with Col Powell to ask us to join him for advanced training as a Special Forces unit. We accept that challenge by signing up for the training.

In mid September, we had returned from leave. After an orientation with Col Powell, we shipped out by transport aircraft to a base located in the Southern Florida to start our special forces training in a true jungle setting. Some of that training involved us testing the use of specialized equipment. Most of it involved the 11 of us, under the supervision of Sargent Thomas in survival tactics as a recon force. It was challenging work, especially when we scared our superiors and were forced to live off of the land when we managed to vanish for a week in the Everglade Swamps. That had happened when we lost contact due to the nature of the training we were conducting and a week of some nasty tropical weather which made traveling through the Everglades dangerous forcing us to seek shelter where we could find it. Contact was reestablished when we spotted one of the search parties sent out to look for us while heading back. Due to the unexpected conditions we had to endure, we spent the following week recovering from cases of jungle rot. We also ended up having all of our clothing and web gear replaced with jungle fatigues due to mold damage to the cotton issue WW2 style uniforms. Fortunately, we had all avoided getting Malaria or Dengue Fever. We had survived that unplanned ordeal in good physical shape which surprised the medics that were treating us for the skin issues caused by over a week of constant dampness.

Additional training took place when we were sent to the Philippines for advanced jungle training. It soon became obvious that the our final destination would be the Vietnam War when we received language training in Vietnamese along with advanced recon, sniper training, and special mission work.

In November of 66, we were transferred to a secret remote operations base in Thailand where we started conducting covet operations under the command of Sargent Thomas into Laos for real. Our mission, to conduct surveillance along the Ho Chi Minh trail of Southern Laos and to plant listening devices along those routes. Those two week long patrols often involved camping out in hidden observation posts and hiding our listening equipment in the jungle along the trails. It was dangerous work given the constant random enemy activity along the route and the risk that we could end up on the receiving end of some B-52 bombing raid.

January 26, 1967. We have been ordered to set up an ambush along the Ho Chi Minh trail close to the Cambodian Border. Dave has packed his sniper rifle for this mission with Henry to serve as his spotter. Intelligence has informed us that a high ranking NVA General is hiking the trail to inspect a supply camp recently hidden in the Parrot Beak area of South Vietnam. We have orders to take him out should we spot him.

It had been a difficult task to find an observation point where there would be ample cover and distance to conduct this mission. Given that the Ho Chi Minh Trail has several path that could be taken in this area, we have had to attempt to observe the activity on as many trails near us as possible. It would be extremely risky if we had to quickly change vantage points to get into a position to take this guy out. With a division of NVA Regulars entering the area with him, the risk of being discovered would be much higher then with the normal traffic of VC Mules pushing their bicycles packed with hundreds of pounds of supplies.

Traffic on the Ho Chi Minh that day became extremely heavy at daybreak. The NVA division we had targeted, was now moving through the area. “Is it possible that our target could be on one of the other trail,” Dave asks Henry in a whisper.

“It’s possible,” answers Henry in a whisper as he observes the new activity with his binoculars. “Wait a minute, that may be him up ahead with that command group.”

“I hope it’s not a decoy,” I whisper to the sniper team.

“I have a positive ID,” whispers Henry after checking the photo he had packed with him with what he is observing through the binoculars.

“When you are ready, take him out,” orders Sargent Thomas quietly.

It seemed like an eternity before Dave started to squeeze the trigger on his sniper rifle. Soon, a loud crack from the high powered rifle shatters the air around the hidden patrol. The response of the NVA soldiers to this sound is almost instantaneous as AK-47 rounds go flying through the jungle in all directions. The NVA General, being some 300 meters away from us, collapses in a heap as a result of a fatal wound to his head. As the sound of the shot has echoed all around them in the jungle, the NVA, unable to determine which way the shot came from, are shooting in all directions. Orders are being screamed at the NVA troops to cease fire, then to fan out in all directions to look for us.

“I got him,” whispers Dave.

“Lets get out of here,” orders Sargent Thomas.

We quietly move out to our pre determined rally point located deeper in the jungle where we can hide from the NVA soldiers that are now desperately looking for us. Desperate to find us, they are firing burst of AK-47 rounds in random directions in an effort to get us to shoot back. “Good, they don’t know where we are,” I think to myself.

We are soon halfway to our rallying point when I hear a whistling sounds coming from overhead. Then, everything suddenly goes blank before I can look to see where it is coming from.

[rpicardi1]

Chapter 2 The Land of The Would Be Dead.

 

I am slowly becoming aware of my surroundings as I am waking up lying under a palm tree that is shading the beach, staring face up into a beautiful tropical sky filled with puffy clouds. It is a comfortable feeling as I am no longer soaked in sweat wearing stinking dirty clothes. Suddenly I am in a panic when I realize that I am now naked with my weapon and all of my gear missing. Worse yet, I realize that I am now alone in this strange location with only the sound of waves gently lapping on the shore and the noise of the tropical birds chirping in the palms.

“What just happened? How did I lose my weapon? Where is my gear?

Where are my clothes? Where is everyone? How did I end up here? The last thing I remember was quietly moving through the jungle to our rallying point to hide from the NVA soldiers that were looking for us while bullets were flying overhead when my mind suddenly went blank.”

“Am I dead?”

“I can’t be dead. I must be dreaming. I can’t be dreaming. Everything here looks so real, like the sandy beaches of the Philippines. I can feel the wet sand between my toes. But yet, this plant life looks so out of place, like it is primitive. Those birds flying in the sky look so strange. The seashells look so strange. Ouch! It hurts to step on that sharp stone on the beach. I’ll need to find something to protect my feet from them.”

“What is that thing crawling on the beach? Why does it look like something out of a textbook of some prehistoric time?” I follow it into the sea. Then. I notice something very odd. “This sea, it stretches to the horizon.” I taste the water. “How can this seawater be fresh? Only the waters of a freshwater sea the size of the Great Lakes can be fresh. Yet, there are palm trees growing here. I can see snow capped mountains in the distance beyond what looks like a giant forest of redwood trees. There is smoke coming from a volcano near them. None of that can be seen from the shores of Vietnam. Just what is that strange thing in the distance floating in the sky, some UFO?”

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a shout from down the beach. “Bob, is that you?” shouts Dave as we start to run towards each other.

“How did you end up here?” I ask Dave as we hug each other.

“I don’t know,” he answers. “We must be in the land of the would be dead. We have to be dead. I saw you get hit in the head by shrapnel when those 500 lbs bombs starting dropping all around us. The last thing that I remember was flying through the air into a tree as my eardrums were ruptured and I was set on fire.”

“Do you think that we got mortared?” I ask Dave.

“No,” Dave answers. “Those explosions were way too big for mortars. Before I killed General Lang, I noticed that one of his aids had one of our location transmitters we had planted on the trail a day ago. I wouldn’t be surprised that Command called in an Arc Light on top of it when they detected that it was moving South.”

“I see some more of our patrol showing up on the beach,” I tell Dave.

Tom, Denny, and Henry are the next individuals that join up with the two of us followed by Paul and Fred from the other direction. Larry, Our medic Scott, Eddie, Mike, and Sargent Thomas soon join us. As we gather together, it seems that our entire Special Forces Patrol has been wiped out by a B-52 bombing raid that had targeted our moving beacon.

During the discussion of what just happened to us, Paul asks Sargent Thomas the following question, “Sarge, do you think that it is possible that the NVA, that were killed in that bombing raid, could show up here with us?”

“I don’t know,” Sargent Thomas answers. “They should have showed up here with us already. It’s still possible that they could show up by us at any time. Now would be a good time to make use of our knowledge of survival training. Form up in teams of three. Start gathering materials to craft up some clothing and weapons. Stay as close as you can to where we first got together. Lets meet back here at this crumbling stone building at the cliff base before sundown. Doc, Eddie, you’re with me. I want to check out those ruins to see if we can use them for an overnight shelter.”

Tom, Denny, and I team up to start scouring the beach for some basic shaped stones that we can use to create some primitive tools. We find some flint like rock that we soon hammer into a useful pick head that is then lashed into a wood bamboo handle to make a pick and hatchet. We use the primitive hatchet to sharpen points on some long bamboo poles to make primitive spears we can use to catch fish along the shore of the sea for food. They become useful when we run into a small pack of curious chicken sized lizard that decide that we might make them a nice snack. We dispatch them with the bamboo spears, then skin them up for hide to make some primitive moccasins for our feet and hang up the raw meat to dry on several bamboo skewer.

I have found that the long leaves on some of the bushes near the palm trees can be split into long fibers. They are easily woven into mats that are shaped into some primitive clothes. “This is excellent,” I tell the others. “We now have the ability to make up some clothes to protect us from the sun and create thatch structures for a shelter for the night.”

We also have spotted what looks like Dodo Birds that are feeding on the various colored berries of the bushes near the edge of the cliff by the beach. “Interesting,” Denny tells me as he observes the berry types they are eating. “It looks like they are eating the colored berries but not the black or white ones.”

“As nothing here is familiar to us, lets be careful what we eat until we know for sure that it won’t make us sick,” I tell him. “The black and white ones must not be safe to eat if the Dodos are avoiding them.”

“Didn’t the Dodo go extinct when they were discovered on some remote Pacific islands by European Explorers in the 1700s?” asks Tom.

“Yes they did,” I answer him. “According to a textbook I read in High School, it was because they were not afraid of those explorers who hunted them into extinction. They had no natural enemies on the islands where they were discovered. They don’t seem to be afraid of us in this place either.”

“Well, it looks like they have natural enemies here,” warns Denny as a small flock of Dodos go running past us squawking in a panic with a lizard the size of a small pony chasing them.

“Spears!” I yell, as the lizard later known to be a Dilo, spits a green slime at Tom’s face and rushes in to bite him. With a screech, this attacking creature gets three spears into it’s body to die from it’s injuries.

“What was that thing?” ask Tom after he has washed the green spit off of his face as we start to butcher and skin it.

“That looked like a Dilopasaur,” I tell him. “Those things went extinct million of years ago.”

“How did we end up in the land of the dinosaurs?” asks Tom.

“I don’t know,” I tell him as I point to a Bronto grazing on the jungle in the distance way down the beach. “Damn, if we are indeed in the land of the dinosaurs, does that means that we could run into predatory creatures far bigger then this dilo, maybe even a T-Rex?”

“That’s not good if we actually run into a T-Rex,” comments Denny. “We would be just become a tasty snack for it. What can we do about it?”

“Lets asks Sargent Thomas about it when we are all back together this evening,” I answer. “In the meantime, lets see if we can make some slingshots from some forked sticks and this hide. Then carry this meat back to the stone ruins, build a fire, start cooking it up, and get a shelter built before the sun goes down.”

As we reach the location of the stone ruins, we find that Sargent Thomas, Doc, and Eddie, have already started to construct a punji stake style barrier around their campsite. He shows us a predator that they have stabbed to death with bamboo pike poles when it attacked them. “There were three of them,” he tells us. “The other two ran off when we killed their pack leader.”

“It’s what I was afraid of,” I tell Sargent Thomas. “We are indeed in the land of the dinosaurs. That is a Utah Raptor that you just killed. The description in the textbooks describes them as pack hunters. There will surely be predators far larger then this raptor that you killed. WHOA! Why is there a spitter hanging around in the camp acting like a pet dog?”

“We tamed it,” answers Eddie. “We actually managed to tame it. Crazy as it sounds, we found a note in an old ammo can, written by an Australian Biologist named Helena, describing the various creatures found on this island and how they can be tamed. Like a watch dog, Lassie already has acted to protect us. She spit in that raptor’s face when it attacked Doc blinding it. When we took it out with these bamboo pike poles the other two raptors fled back into the jungle as she went chasing after them.”

“Interesting that the Dodos in the camp are not afraid of your spitter,” I tell Eddie. “We ran into one that was hunting them and killed it when it spat into Tom’s face.”

“Strangely enough, when tamed, the predators won’t harm tamed herbivores such as these Dodos.” answers Eddie. “In fact, they will protect them from the other predators, even from their own kind.”

“Kind of like the sheepdogs protecting the flock from wolves and coyotes.” I tell him.

“You mention that the note says we are on an island. Can you tell us more about this?”

“The note says that we are on a large island of about 40 clicks in diameter. It has several distinct biomes of which several of them can be seen in the distance. Apparently, we are in an artificial environment considered to be an Ark, a sort of lifeboat from a future Earth. A sanctuary for the various extinct species from Earth’s past, a giant terrarium in orbit around a dead planet. That is all Helena has written in her diary about this place.

“Interesting,” I answer. “Doc, what can you tell us about the berries we are finding in the bushes?”

“I have found that the white ones act like a stimulant. They can give you a burst of energy, like when the enemy gets wired up on Marijuana before launching a human wave attack. However, they can leave you badly dehydrated if you abuse them.”

“The black ones have amazing healing properties when used as a disinfectant. However, they will knock you out for a while if you eat too many of them.”

“Interesting,” I tell Doc. “Now, I know why the Dodos don’t eat the black or white ones.”

“The rest are safe to eat,” Doc tells us. “The the purple ones are like candy to the herbivores. That’s how we got these Dodos to stay with us. They are even better egg layers then the chickens were on my farm.”

“Unlike a lot of our extended patrols, where we have to live off of the land, it looks like that we are going to have plenty of food for our needs,” reports Eddie. “We now have dried meat jerky, fish, berries, and if we want to start a garden, veggies from these seeds and wild plants I am finding.”

“So much better then those awful C-Rats,” I answer.

Henry, Dave, and Paul are the next ones back to the now growing campsite for the night. Most interesting is that Dave is riding bareback on a Parasaur. “As a kid, I always dreamed of actually riding on a dinosaur,” admits Dave as he rides it into the camp. “Never in my life did I ever believe that I would be riding on one for real.”

“You should try to ride on a T-Rex,” kids Henry.

“Perhaps, we should wait until we can safely tame one,” warns Sargent Thomas. “After all, they can be far more dangerous then these raptors that came after us.”

“I’m certain that you are right,” I answer as I am reading through Helena’s notes. “It looks like that it can be done but we must knock it out first before attempting to tame one. It’s going to take a ton of narcoberries to do so assuming that we can find a way to feed those to it. Lets pray that we don’t have to confront one until we are ready to tame it.”

The work has continue on building a spike fence around the stone ruins where we are planning to stay for the night. A couple of campfires are going where we are cooking slices of raptor steak over the flames. Dave’s Parasaur is proving to be quite useful as he can carry the spiked logs and larger diameter bamboo poles in his forearms back to where the spike wall is being constructed. He is soon carrying poles back for the fence to Sargent Thomas without anyone guiding him.

“Amazing,” Sargent Thomas tells Dave. “I wouldn’t think that it was possible to train one so quickly to do that. He’s been such a great help in getting this fence built.”

“Oh my gosh!” comments Dave in astonishment. “Look what Fred Larry and Mike are coming back with.”

“Is that those two raptors Lassie chased off?” asks Sargent Thomas.

“It sure looks like it,” answers Dave. “Fred and Larry are riding on the raptors like horses. What is Mike riding on? Is that a Trike? Fred, How did you manage to tame these dinosaurs?”

“We got the two raptors when they came running from your direction.” answers Fred. “We stopped them by using our bolas to tangle up their legs. Mike had just tamed the trike with those purple berries who was pawing the ground and was aiming his horns to charge them. Mike told him to stand down so we could see if we could tame them per the instructions from a note we found written by a Chinese Warrior that called herself the ‘Beast Queen.’ Following her instructions for taming such dangerous predators, we were able to win their loyalty. Between those two and the trike, we were able to take out a carno that surprised us by hiding behind a boulder waiting in ambush. These primitive bows we were able to make from the saplings were a great help in blinding the carno’s eyes with stone arrows.”

“What else did you find during your exploration?” asks Sargent Thomas.

“Well, we certainly don’t want to head inland along this inlet.” reports Fred. “After killing the Carno that ambushed us, we spotted a T-Rex killing a Parasaur. I just hopes that it stays down there. I’m not sure that our trike and raptors can defend us from it.”

“Help us get our spike wall finished for the night,” orders Sargent Thomas. “Then, we should see if we can move to a safer location with our prehistoric friends. Perhaps that small island may be free of the more dangerous predators. I’ll have a team craft up a canoe to sail over there to check it out. If it is safe, we’ll move over there with our tames and make it our base of operations.”

[rpicardi1]

Chapter 3, Herbivore Island.

 

With the spike fence finished along with a reinforced gate, the patrol prepares for the upcoming night. Wood has been stacked for the fire, having been gathered from the driftwood and dead palms along the shore. Torches have been crafted. They are being fueled with a strange substance crafted from ground stones and flint nicknamed Sparkpowder. A debate has been going on among the patrol about if it is wise to have lit torches and fires once it gets dark due to the uncertainty of attracting any NVA solders that may have been reborn into the Land of the Would Be Dead. That argument is soon settled by the sounds of some unfortunate creature they hear screaming in pain followed by a loud roar, then a dreadful silence. It makes Dave’s Parasaur quite nervous with the raptors and trike equally becoming restless. The Dodos are scurrying about in a panic as if they are being chased by wild Dilos. Tom and I round them up locking them inside a straw hut to keep them quiet. “I hope that smaller island is safe to move to,” comments Sargent Thomas as a watch is organized for the night. “Our tames are already alerting us that this place is going to be extremely dangerous during the night.”

Darkness arrives as suddenly as it does in the Jungles of Southeast Asia as the clouds roll in from a tropical storm. It makes it difficult for the first watch to hear what is out there in this miserable stormy weather. Several sets of beady glowing eyes are seen scurrying about in the glare from the torches which thankfully have stayed lit in spite of the wind driven downpour. I hear a screech of pain as one of them runs into a punji stake. Several other pairs of eyes soon descends upon the unfortunate creature which soon disappears with the sounds of it being ripped to pieces.

“We were wise to construct this spiked fence for the night,” reports Sargent Thomas who is finding it hard to get any sleep this first night in this land of the Would Be Dead. “Any ideas what those things running around our fence are?”

“Helena’s notes describe them as Troodons,” I tell the group. “They travel in hunting packs at night. Fortunately, they don’t like the light from our fires and torches. They will run away from that light. They hunt by taking a bite out of a larger creature, wait until it passes out, then eat it alive at their leisure. We better get some more torches along the fence to keep them out”.

“I wonder if they are related to the Komodo Dragons,” asks Doc as we put out several additional standing torches along the fence. “Those reptiles would take a bite out of their victims, then wait for them to get sick from the resulting infection before eating them like those Troodons.”

“I don’t know,” I answer. “The Compys we cooked up tasted like chicken. They, the spitters, and Dave’s Parasaur look like they have chicken feet as well.”

“NOW WHAT?”

Daves Parasaur has suddenly gone into a panic as he tries to hide in the thatch hut knocking it down and scattering the Dodos inside. A red marker is glowing outside of the fence in the direction of the inlet. Mike’s Trike is pawing the ground as his head starts to get a red glow around it. The two raptors and the spitter are growling in warning. Anyone still sleeping is suddenly grabbing spears and bows as a huge roar is heard just outside of the spike fence when a section of it goes flying in pieces in all directions.

“Aim for the eyes and it’s open mouth!” Orders Sargent Thomas in a panic as the huge predator smashes it’s way into the compound.

In the light of the torches that are still standing, several arrows find their mark into the glowing eyes of this huge predator thus blinding it. The spitter ends up crushed in the huge jaws of the monster as it rushes it to spit in it’s face. The two raptors jump onto it’s shoulders and start clawing at it’s neck. Blood and pieces of hide are flying everywhere. The trike charges the tiny forearms two legged monster burying it’s horns into it’s belly thus knocking it down onto it’s side. A spear jammed into the roof of it’s huge tooth filled mouth finishes the job.

“Anybody hurt?” shouts Doc as the battle has ended.

“Other then crapping our pants, I think that we are OK,” answers Sargent Thomas. “Lets get that fence back up, calm down our tames, and check them for injuries.”

As the fence gets placed back up, the storm starts to clear away. With a full moon now shining on the campsite and the lit torches, it has made it much easier to see what needs to be done. The rain has washed away most of the blood that was splashed on us and our tames. That has made it easier to check them for injuries. Dave has managed to calm down his Parasaur which finally comes over with him to confirm that the threat is over.

“We got lucky on this one,” reports Doc after the camp has been secured and everyone and the tames checked for injuries. “Other then losing Lassie, there are only scrapes and bruises on us and our tames which the Narcoberries easily took care of. Just what in this world happened to hit us?”

“That was the T-Rex I saw hunting in the interior,” answers Fred. “It may have had some friends further down the inlet.”

“Soon as it is daylight, I want to send a team over to that island to check it out.” order Sargent Thomas. “If it is safe to go over there, we are going to abandon this place as quickly as possible. Bob, Tom, and Denny, that will be your job in the morning. The rest of us will butcher this T-Rex, see how much of this meat we can preserve, and clean up this mess.”

Early that following morning, the three of us lash together a couple of logs to form a primitive raft. With a giant shark present in the area, it would not be a wise idea to make the long swim. Thankfully, that shark ignores us as we use makeshift wood paddles and a hide sail to reach the island.

Upon reaching the island, we pull the raft up on the sandy beech inside of a small bay bordered by a pair of sandbars with rocky outcroppings. The beach is quiet with only a Parasaur, a Trike, some Stegos, and Ankylos living there. “Excellent,” I tell the others as we finish exploring the interior plateau. “I don’t see anything threatening here, not even those annoying compys.”

During the exploration of this island, Denny has found another note hidden in a coffee tin written by Helena. “According to this note, The Pteradons are not a threat. They are only interested in catching the fish in the bay. They can be tamed to ride on them using a saddle. We just have to be careful that we travel light as they don’t have the ability to carry a lot of weight.”

“Lets get back to camp and give the rest of our patrol the good news,” I tell the others.

Back at the cliffside camp, I file my report to Sargent Thomas. “We have a safe location for setting up camp,” I tell the others. “There are no dangerous carnivores anywhere on the island, or, at least, nothing like what attacked us last night. We did find a couple of large herbivores living there. The Pteradons are no threat as they are eating fish from out of the bay. Denny walked up to one and touched it on it’s neck. The shark didn’t bother us so long as we were on our raft.”

“Excellent,” answers Sargent Thomas. “Get a detail to help you build a raft big enough to take our supplies and tames over there.”

Having cut down a bunch of the bigger trees to use for a reinforced fence, the logs are dragged into the water using Mike’s Trike. Dave’s Parasaur has carried the smaller poles which are then use to lash the big logs together and to form a deck. While the tames could have swam across, the presence of the big shark would have made it too dangerous to do so. With the primitive raft built, the Trike is loaded on board along with Mike, Fred, and Larry to paddle the raft across. Mike’s Trike stays in the center of the raft which is able to handle his weight as the six of us paddle him across.

Beaching the raft on the sandbar, Mike gets on the Trike and rides him off. We unload the first batch of supplies as Mike volunteers to stay there and start work on a shelter for the night. “At least, I won’t need to build a spike fence,” Mike comments as we leave.

Returning to camp, we load up Perry the Parasaur and the dodos. We have to place them in a pen so they don’t fall into the water and attract the shark. More supplies are loaded on, then we sail off with Dave joining us. We tie the exploration raft behind us so we have something for exploration later.

The trip doesn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked with a nervous Parasaur on board. As we get close to shore where the water gets shallow, he jumps off the raft nearly tipping it over. Wondering where he has disappeared to after we recover several crates of supplies and four Dodo Birds floating in the water, Dave spots him over by another Parasaur. “That should keep him busy for a while,” I tell Dave. “Why don’t you stay here with Mike while we go after the rest of our patrol. Maybe, you two will have two additional tames to help us build our new base of operations when we come back.”

The final trip has the two raptors, the rest of the patrol, and everything not tied down, loaded on the raft or attached with a rope floating behind. The late afternoon wind has made it easier for the ten of us to paddle that load across. Two Lystros and a Moschop has joined the tames in the group. Dave’s new Parasaur gets quite nervous at the site of the two Raptors on the raft until she is assured by Perry and the presence of the new tames that they are not on the menu.

Mike has also tamed the female Trike that is living on the island. We use the both of them to pull the salvaged fence sections out of the water.

We get a temporary thatch shelter built for the night as Fred and Larry go spear fishing for food to feed their Raptors. The two raptors stay close to them as they are wading in the bay. The Coe in the water seem to be curious about the activity as they are up in the seaweed looking for the food that the two men have tossed into the water as bait. One of the Raptors manages to catch a large Coe that wanders too close to the shore looking for a free meal. He shares it with his mate. “Good, it looks like they prefer to eat the fish rather then the raw meat we have been using for bait from killing the Rex,” comments Fred. “So long as they like the fish, we shouldn’t have to worry about them trying to go after the herbivores living on this island.”

This second night in The Land of the Would Be Dead becomes quite a contrast to the terror of that first night. Even though we have seen no threats on what we are calling Herbivore Island, a fire with several torches is maintained by the watch all night. All of the tames are resting comfortably next to the members of this Special Forces Patrol. The moon is shining brightly in the tropical sky as two of the giant floating objects in the distance, one red, the second green, can be seen with it’s strange fog like lightning in that strange colored beam of light soaring into space. Other strange colored beams can be seen in the distance on what is considered the mainland. “We will need to investigate what those objects are once we can safely do so,” comments Sargent Thomas as I discuss with him what they could be before we turn in for the night.

Everyone is able to get a good night’s sleep.